#i say this as i sit curled up under a blanket at 3pm

[darkshrimpemotions]

And another thing! If you have any issues that make it hard to get out of bed--depression, chronic pain, anything--one of the nicest things you can do for yourself when you're feeling okay is start to keep a bottle of water and some kind of non-perishable easy-to-consume snack by your bed for that day when you wake up and can't move. You don't deserve hunger pangs and headaches! You do deserve to be fed and hydrated!

And if you've dealt with these issues for years this is old news to you, but it bears repeating for anyone newly dealing with these issues. Because it took me so long. SO LONG. To stop expecting to care for myself exactly the way I did before I was sick. And to stop shaming and punishing and needlessly hurting myself for it.

[alovelyfox]

Chapter 5: Truthfully

You can’t quite find the words to describe how mad you are right now. You keep muttering obscenities directed towards Stan and his entire bloodline while you check the apartment for any sign of Wendy. Confirming she had left for work, you go to the door to let Stan in. But your hand hesitates while reaching for the doorknob. You aren’t sure if it’s the best idea to let him inside. You had pegged him as sort of a dorky lover boy who wanted help getting his soulmate back, but him showing up here like this without your consent makes you think twice. Plus, it would probably be a major violation of Wendy’s trust to let her potentially psycho ex-boyfriend into your home. Deciding it’s best to talk outside, you open the door and firmly close it behind you. Stan looks confused and says something, but your eyes are firmly trained on what’s leaning against the wall behind him. Your previously thought lost pink bike.

“What the hell is this doing here?” You ask, walking over and checking the handle bar to confirm it’s really yours. Sure enough, the carving you made when you first got it at 13 is still there, staring back at you.

“Oh, Kyle dropped it off,” Stan explains, and your heart drops. “Yeah, he just left, without saying anything either. He asked if I was here to see you, then walked away.”

“Kyle was here?”

Stan nods, and a hundred different scenarios as to why he left go through your head. You had told him you were meeting your date from last night here, so he comes with your bike and finds… Stan. Fuck.

You sprint down the stairs, the only thought in your mind is to talk to him before he gets the wrong idea. But it’s too late, you run outside and find no sight of him. You slowly trudge up the stairs, walking until you come face to face with Stan. The sadness of not being able to catch up and explain everything to Kyle couples with the stress of Stan showing up unannounced, and you explode.

“Why the fuck are you here Stan? I made it very clear, I would only help you if you gave both Wendy and I space, yet not even 24 hours after, you show up at our apartment!” Stan opens his mouth to say something, but you’re too angry to let him get a word in. “Don’t fucking tell me you’re here because you love her, or because you’re desperate. Because right now, all I see is a selfish, pathetic excuse of a man who’s relying on two women to fix all his problems. And now you’ve gone ahead and fucked up my life since of course you can’t be the only miserable one. You have to drag down everyone else with you. But if your life sucks, you don’t go and screw it up for others.”

You push past him and open the door. Stepping inside, you remember one last thing that you hope gets stuck in his thick skull.

“Oh, and if I ever see you within twenty feet of this apartment again, I’ll pepper spray your ass and call the cops while you’re on the floor crying for your mommy.”

And with that, you slam the door in his bewildered face and fall onto the couch. You need this day to be over with, so after leaving a voicemail to Sam saying that you won’t be in for the rest of the day, you curl up and float into a dreamless nap.

…

You awake with the time on your phone reading 11:03pm. Your inbox is filled with messages from Stan, and you groan. You had meant to sleep until morning and let him be your future problem, but the pillow squished under your head and the heavy blanket on top of you reminds you that Wendy’s too nice for you to carry on lying to her.

You get up, grab two beers from the fridge, then walk over to her room. She’s sitting on her bed watching some Netflix show, which she pauses after inviting you in.

“Hey, thanks for making it comfortable enough for me to sleep on the couch, you were the only thing standing between me and a really bad neck sprain,” you tell Wendy as you open the drinks and hand one to her.

“No worries. You said you might have to work late this evening, so seeing you crashing on our couch at 3pm kinda made me think something happened that made you need a nap.”

You avoid eye contact and sip the beer. It tastes bitter in your mouth, so you sigh and set it down.

“Guy troubles.”

“Oh yeah, I had a couple of those in the past. Actually just the one.” She takes a sip and you figure you’re not gonna get a better opportunity than this.

“Do you mind telling me about him? Sorry if it’s kinda invasive, but I think hearing about someone else’s experience might make me feel better about mine.” You take a deep breath, hoping she’ll open up.

“Sure. I mean, it happened so long ago. My first boyfriend was a guy called Stan. He was from my hometown in Colorado; really cute, and super in love with me. In fact, he used to throw up every time he talked to me, he was that nervous,” she says, growing quiet with a sort of dreamy eyed look crossing her face. You have to clear your throat to get her to continue.

“Oh right. We started dating in middle school, and we were kinda on and off from then until high-school. Even though he was sometimes emotionally distant and I dated other guys, I truly loved him. I thought we might go the distance, but during our senior year, he got exceedingly more and more depressed. And instead of turning to the people who cared about him, he turned to alcohol. He was scared about his future, and to cope, drank himself within an inch of his life. Interventions, detoxes, rehab, I tried everything to get him to quit… But you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”

Her eyes go glassy, so you reach over and give her some tissues laying on her nightstand, but she shakes her head and she carries on.

“I stuck with him until our graduation. By then, everyone else had left, deemed him a lost cause. They were right, and as much as I loved him, I couldn’t stay with a man trying to kill himself. I broke up with him at his house after the ceremony, which he hadn’t bothered to attend despite the fact I’d made valedictorian. I told him I was leaving for the city, and that I hope when he gets the help he so desperately needs, that he’ll call me. And considering I haven’t heard from him since, I assume he’s still in South Park, staring at the bottom of an empty bottle.”

She takes a long look at her drink before setting it down, and you mentally kick yourself for bringing beer to a conversation about an alcoholic. And when there’s perfectly good ice-cream in the freezer! But you digress, and summon enough courage to ask the question that’ll determine your entire future with Stan.

“But if he did get the help he needed, and got better, would you still wanna be with him?”

You hold your breath, and after a couple moments, she replies.

“I have no idea. He was such a train wreck when I left, and was so adamant to refuse any help. But… I suppose if he was truly better, and had truly changed… Then I would at least be willing to see him. But if we were to date again, he needs to be completely sober and have his entire life together. I can’t go through what I did with him when I was 18 and in love all over again. But I don’t think I ever truly stopped loving him, so I don’t know. I might be willing to give our relationship another chance.”

You smile, and thank her for telling you. She tells you she hopes everything works out for you, yet still looks sadly at her abandoned beer bottle. You take it along with your own and walk out of her room, dumping them both in the trash before pulling out your phone. You step out onto your small balcony, breathing in the fresh air, and call Stan back.

…

He picks up on the first ring.

“Hello? Y/N, is that you? Look, if it is, I am so sorry for showing up at the apartment, and you have every right to be mad at me. So yell, scream, cuss me out and call me every name in the book. And if you think Wendy’s life is better without me in it, and that she doesn’t feel for me what I feel for her, so be it. But I want you to know that I genuinely feel better about my life after the advice you gave me, and I want more of your help.”

You sigh. If helping him is what’s gonna make Wendy happy, you’ll do it. But first, you need assurance that he’s mentally and financially stable enough to be let back into her life.

“Dr. Grossbard. He’s a therapist I know who specializes in helping recovering addicts. I’ll send you his address, and you can reply by sending me a copy of your resume. I’ll see if there’s anyone hiring an errand boy and if we can get you a job.”

“Thank you Y/N. Oh thank you so much. I’ll get right on that.”

You almost cut the call, but decide to say one last thing.

“Oh, and Stan? Wendy feels more closely than you think.” He starts to say something, but you hang up. The air has turned cold around you and you start to feel sleepy again, but before you go inside, you send off a text to Kyle.

Y/N - thank you so so much for dropping off my bike ♥️♥️

Y/N - where’d you find it?

Read at 12:03am

…

The next day at work you try to ignore the nagging feeling that Kyle left you on read because he’s mad at you. Or maybe it’s all in your head, and in reality he just forgot to reply. Guess I’ll find out today. You sit down at your brand new desk which was delivered before you got here, and inspect the thick manila folder lying on it. Inside is information about Gemma Langford, who’s boss Lenny Ying failed to provide sufficient maternity leave when she was pregnant with twins, for which she is now suing as a human rights violation. It seems pretty simple, but what surprises you is that the prosecutor's name on the case matches your own. You realize what it means and can’t stop smiling. Your first case! You wonder if Kyle’s the one who assigned it to you, being your superior, and you decide to go ask him.

Walking into his office, the air seems cold, despite the morning sun shining through the unopened windows. Kyle is working diligently at his desk, not pausing to look up when you enter. You ask him whether it was him who gave you the case in your hands, but he doesn’t reply, his eyes glued to the computer screen in front of him. You think he didn’t hear you and asks again, yet he still doesn’t say any response.

So he IS mad at me, you discover, and sigh before walking out and closing the door behind you. He probably needs a little space, god knows why . You return to your desk and decide it’s best to just focus on your work. It’s what best distracts your mind from other thoughts, and you feel yourself getting lost in gathering all the information you need to help Gemma.

Sam comes to your desk around 12 and gives you some lunch he picked up from the deli nearby. You express your gratitude by thanking him, and it’s around this time Kyle also ventures out of his room to grab some coffee. Watching as he moves around the kitchen, you not so subtly stare at how fast he looks like he’s trying to get out of there. Sam calls his name so he turns around and accidentally makes eye contact with you. You smile, but he averts his eyes and walks back to his office post-haste.

Definitely mad. Shit.

…

It’s around 4:30 when you hit a snag with your work. The timing for when Gemma asked Lenny for maternity leave is weeks prior to when he officially filed a request, and you wonder if this is something you can use against him in the case. And even though he’s trying to avoid you, the only person who would know the answer to this is Kyle. In fact, he’s your senior, the person who should be by your side during this entire thing, helping you along. Deciding enough is enough, you march over to his office and knock.

“Come i-,” he starts to say as you open the door, but his voice abruptly stops upon seeing it’s you and he returns his gaze back to his computer.

“Kyle? I need your help with finding something about this case, if you don’t mind?”

“We have an extremely talented research team if you need help.”

“Yes, but I think it’s something you’d know, so I thought to ask you.”

“Try them first.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” You walk over to his desk and unplug the computer, yet even then it takes a couple seconds for him to turn his chair to face and for his eyes to flicker up to yours.

“I wanna know why the hell you’re being so weird and distant today, no more of this passive-aggressive bullshit. Just tell me what’s bothering you,” you say exasperated, but he remains silent.

“Is it something I did? Something I said? Or is it about who you saw at my apartment yesterday?”

His jaw tightens slightly at the mention of Stan, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh.

“Oh my fucking god, this is about him? The guy I told you I went on a date with like two days ago? Why do you care so much about my dating life?”

“I don’t,” he says, standing up to match your height. “You can date any guy you want, just.. not him. Not Stan.”

“I never said we were dating. And I also never told you his name was Stan. What, do you know him personally or something?”

“As a matter of fact, yeah. I spent my entire childhood being his best friend, so if you’re involved with him, I think I have a right to know. So tell me Y/N, are you two dating or not?” He asks, his fiery gaze only accentuated by curls of red hair falling down onto his face.

“No,” you say, your voice strong and clear. His stare relaxes faintly, but upon realizing you aren’t gonna give him anymore information, he sighs and collapses back down onto his chair. You also find somewhere to sit in the room, and the both of you remain silent for a moment.

“Look. I didn’t mean to get angry like that. It just felt…weird to find out that Stan was your date.”

“Listen. We’re not dating, but chances are I’m gonna be seeing a lot more of him now. So if you have some sort of shitty relationship with him because he’s a bad guy, I’d rather know now than later.”

Kyle sighs and leans back. “No, he’s a good guy. Or I don’t know, he was when we were kids. Our friend group was always getting into trouble, but Stan had my back through it all. He helped make my middle school life bearable, especially when there were other guys who were hell-bent on ruining it. But I still blame myself for what happened during senior year. I was too focused on having good enough grades to get out of that shithole town that I neglected our friendship, and Stan turned to alcohol to deal. I only realized how bad it had gotten when I graduated, but by then it was too little too late. I tried to keep in touch with him after I moved, but yesterday at your apartment was the first time I’d seen him in almost seven years. He never told me he’s in town, and the last place I’d have expected him to be was there. Probably why I left without saying anything.”

You pick up your chair and place it right next to his, plug back in his computer, then grab the file and open it up.

“Oh yeah, thanks again for finding my bike and dropping it back at my place. It really means a lot.”

He mumbles a ‘no worries’, then leans in closer to get a look at the information in the folder. He leans so close, in fact, that you can smell faint traces of the coconut shampoo he probably used this morning while washing his hair. A soft smile falls on your lips, and you listen eagerly as he explains to you the best way of attacking the case.

…

Time goes by quickly with the both of you working on the case in Kyle’s office, and before you know it the clock reads 6:30 pm. He notices it first, and looks at his watch to double check.

“Oh fuck, we’ve been working for 2 straight hours,” he says, as he starts to gather up all your papers spilled across his desk. “I have a couple things I still have to do so I’ll likely be here until around 9… But you should get going, it’s pretty late.”

“It’s okay, I wanna finish what I’m working on. Plus, my bike’s got a flat tire and I had to get my roommate to drop me off today, so if we leave at the same time you can drop me back! I’ll just keep you company until then,” you say, and his eyebrows knit in confusion.

“You don’t mind?” He asks, and when you shoot him an enthusiastic smile he turns away to hide his blush.

“Alright, I’ll go get us some dinner,” he says before leaving the office.

You fire off a quick text to Wendy saying you’ll be home late tonight, and grin softly as you look around the room. After an eventful couple of days, everything in your life seems to have fallen into place, and you hope you’ll always feel this happy.

[witch-and-a-half]

a few too many

eek my first fic in over a month i’m so sorry !! i’m not sure if i love it but it’s made me want to write again so hopefully more is coming soon :)

this is for @weasleysflowr‘s 300 follower writing challenge and the prompt was “I might have had a few shots” <3 i had a lot of fun writing it and, when you’re done, you should go check out ayli’s work and the other fics from the challenge !!!

notes: fred x reader, fluff, mentions of alcohol and intoxication, after hogwarts, weasleys’ wizard wheezes!!!

words: 2k

- - -

The door to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes let out a chime as you strode in. A vibrant red “Grand Opening” banner fluttered over the counter where George Weasley stood, brows furrowed as he looked up from the parchment in his hand.

“[y/n]! You’ve beat the rush!” His face relaxed into a grin, but the accompanying chuckle was tinged with nervousness.

“I should hope so!” [y/n] said as George came to pull her into a tight hug. When she pulled back, she noticed the way George's teeth toyed with his lips, a telltale sign that he was anxious. So she grabbed his forearms and looked up at him sternly, “Georgie, it’s not even 9am. I don’t doubt that it’ll be packed in here by 3pm.”

“Merlin, we’ve missed our levelheaded [y/n],” Fred called, coming down the stairs with a box in his arms. George rolled his eyes as his twin joined them. Fred shifted the box under one of his arms so he could ruffle [y/n]’s hair. The gesture reminded [y/n] fondly of when she had accompanied the twins around Hogwarts, and the way she scrunched her nose as she tried to fix her hair reminded Fred of the same memories.

[y/n] look around the store curiously, “You two have outdone yourselves, huh? I feel like I’m peering into your minds…” Her hands traced absentmindedly along the shelves, picking up funny-shaped packages as she went.

“Oh, I don’t know…” George drawled teasingly, “Anything on your mind that's not in our shop Freddie?”

[y/n] turned in time to see Fred’s stern glare towards his brother quickly turn to a smart smirk. “Actually George… I think all my favorite things have made their way into the store in one way or another.”

Rolling her eyes at the familiar feeling of being out of the twin’s loop, [y/n] set down the glass bottle of shimmery liquid she’d been studying. “I should really be heading to work. But I’m glad I got to see the store before it gets too busy for me to get a proper look around.”

The twins led [y/n] out, and George reached above her head to hold the door open.

“You’ll be back later, right?” Fred asked, hands in the pocket of his waistcoat.

“Might be a little late, but you know I would never miss a special-invite Weasley afterparty.” [y/n] grinned heartily at the redheads before apparating to the Ministry for work.

~ ~ ~

That evening, [y/n] arrived outside Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes—its colorful lights in the window illuminating the otherwise dark street. She was later than she’d hoped to be, and that became more apparent when she entered the store.

Clear cups of firewhiskey were abandoned on surfaces throughout the store. She spotted classmates she hadn’t thought about in months. Groups were scattered about, chatting quietly with intermittent bursts of laughter.

“[y/n]!” George called from behind her, his words loose from intoxication, “I knew you’d make it! Fred was less sure... but I knew you’d come.” [y/n] couldn’t help but laugh at George’s sloppy gesticulations.

“She’s here Freddie!” George called over his shoulder, but there was no one behind him. He gave [y/n] a bewildered look before it was replaced with realization, “How rude of me! Let me fix you a drink.”

By the time [y/n] had drunk enough to catch up with the party, it was starting to die down. She’d chatted herself out and was now perched at the top of a flight of stairs far from the rest of the party. The haze of alcohol settled over her peacefully as she rested her head in her hand and tried to commit the ambiance of the shop to memory. [y/n] was shook from her daze as she felt someone sit beside her.

“Fred…” She smiled softly at her friend. He placed his feet beside [y/n]’s on the step below where they were sat; his knees folded to his chest and his arms wrapped around them, his head resting atop his knees. The childlike pose made [y/n] forget for a moment that they weren’t sixteen and giggling in the Gryffindor Common Room. He turned his head to give [y/n] a drunken smile, “Hello my dear.”

[y/n] rolled her eyes and scooched instinctively closer to him, “I haven’t seen you all evening. What have you been up to?”

Fred shrugged and thought for a moment before he spoke again.

“I might have had a few shots…” Fred watched [y/n]’s eyebrows raise humorously, “A few too many… mhm.” His voice trailed off and he looked thoughtful despite his drunken stupor.

[y/n] was still smiling. She hadn’t even known shots were out that evening, “Hm…”

“You know how I know I had too much?” Fred’s eyes widened playfully but his lips were pressed together seriously.

“How Freddie?”

“Because I feel like I want to tell you a secret. And I’m not supposed to.”

[y/n] stiffened a bit, “And what’s that?”

Fred just shook his head in response. It was as though his sober self had suddenly clamped its hand over his intoxicated lips. [y/n] narrowed her brows, but the pleading look in Fred’s eyes as he shook his head again made her drop the subject.

After a moment of silence, [y/n] felt the day’s exhaustion sweep over her suddenly. She rested her head on Fred’s shoulder and sleepily murmured, “How did the Grand Opening go?”

“Oh, it was so great. Lots of customers… the family came in too… 'so proud' Mum said… I helped this third year... enough products to get out of class for a year…”

[y/n] couldn’t tell if Fred’s voice was fading in and out because she was losing consciousness or if it was his drunken slurring. Eventually, though, she could no longer hear him at all.

“Oi! Fred! Where’ve you gone?” George’s voice echoed through the building and [y/n] jolted awake. As she blinked and tried to recall where she was, Fred rubbed her back and stood to join his brother downstairs. The three of them seemed to be the only ones left in the building.

[y/n] headed down a minute later. As she reached the front of the store, she could hear the twins bickering quietly.

“I think I’ll suggest it. Is that alright?” Fred was wiping down a counter.

“Obviously. She’s my mate too you know.” George said as he waved his wand to summon all the cups strewn throughout the store.

“I think I almost-” but Fred was cut off by [y/n]’s approaching footsteps.

“I had a lovely night and I’m so proud of you two. But I should probably go.” Her voice was still heavy with sleep and remnants of firewhiskey.

Fred gave George a look that [y/n] was too tired to even begin to decipher. “It’s nearly 3am, [y/n]. You should just stay here for the night.” George said gently.

[y/n] shook her head sheepishly, “It’s okay, I-” but Fred spoke before she could finish, “No. We insist.”

~ ~ ~

Less than an hour later, [y/n] was laid out on Fred and George’s couch wearing one twin’s shirt and the other’s sweatpants. She was curled under a blanket in the dark, but she was unfortunately starkly awake. As [y/n]’s mind traced over the evening, trying to remember who she’d talked to about what, she heard footsteps in the kitchen behind the couch. When the dim kitchen light illuminated the living room, she sat up slightly to see Fred quietly pouring himself a glass of water.

He turned and noticed her eyes peering back at him. “Sorry… I forgot…”

“No, it’s alright. I wasn’t asleep.”

“Oh,” Fred stood, glass in hand, unsure of what to say.

Maybe it was the hour or the darkness, but [y/n] suddenly felt bold enough to ask the question she’d been mulling over, “What secret did you want to tell me earlier?”

The way Fred’s face contorted into a shocked grimace made [y/n]’s heart swoop. What if he doesn't remember?

But Fred proved her wrong by shaking his head as he had before, “I can’t.” She shifted to see him better.

“Is it about the Order?”

“No, but-”

“George?”

“No, not George but-”

“Then what is it? We’ve told each other everything since we were fourteen, Fred. What’s going on?” [y/n] was growing worried.

Fred raised his voice in frustration, “Merlin, I can’t-”

“Fine then! Don’t tell me.” [y/n] matched his tone, but her voice cracked slightly. Fred was rarely angry, so [y/n] was a bit rattled. Before anything else could be said, she dropped herself back onto the couch so Fred could no longer see her.

“You don’t want to know.” Fred’s voice was soft this time, gentle and nervous. And he was closer now; [y/n] turned so he couldn’t see her face.

“You don’t know that.” [y/n] whispered just loud enough for Fred to hear.

“Merlin, you are so stubborn.” Any trace of anger in Fred’s voice was gone, it had been replaced with soft humor. He sat gingerly on the floor in front of the couch, parallel to [y/n], who was still facing the back of the couch so he couldn’t see her.

“I just don’t see why you can’t tell me. Or tell me why you can't tell me.” [y/n] grumbled. She couldn’t stay mad at Fred, but she’d never had this hard of a time getting him to fess up to anything. The day he and George had decided to leave school early, she’d managed to get Fred to spill the beans with barely more than a stern look.

Fred exhaled, “Okay, fine then.” and [y/n] turned to face him. It was too dark to see him clearly, but she knew Fred was looking in her eyes.

“I think I’m in love with you.” Fred’s voice was softer than [y/n] knew he was capable of, and there was a tremble to it that made her stomach flutter.

“Oh…” She whispered, but Fred continued before she could fully process what he’d said.

“I reckon I have for a while now. Didn’t realize it until after George and I left school. Seems he’d known longer than I had too, right git. I thought I could ignore it but when you came in this morning… it all came back.” Fred’s worried rambling slowed but he continued, “And when you were late this evening… I thought you weren’t coming. I think that’s why I drank as much as I did, and took those shots when no one was looking. And then you came and I don’t know why but I had to avoid you. I didn’t want to tell you. Didn’t want to wreck our friendship or make you uncomfortable or… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

A beat skipped and [y/n] struggled to find words. She’d always felt differently about Fred. His smile had warmed her heart for years and only now did she realize why.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to say anything.” Fred mustered up enough humor to chuckle but the sadness in his voice was unmistakable, “S’pose it’s your fault for wanting to know so bad isn’t it?”

Fred started to stand to leave, but [y/n] sat up and grabbed his arm before he was on his feet, and Fred froze.

“No, c’mere.” was all she could say before pulling Fred’s lips to hers. The two melted into the kiss for a few moments before Fred pulled away.

“Are you sure?” he asked breathlessly.

“Oh absolutely.” [y/n] grinned back at him before giving him another peck on the lips and scooting over so he could join her on the couch. They laid close together, with [y/n]’s head pressed to Fred’s chest. “We’re idiots, huh?” [y/n] whispered and Fred’s chest rumbled with a silent chuckle in response. “Oh absolutely.” He echoed her words back to her before placing a kiss on the top of her head and drifting off to sleep.

~ ~ ~

[y/n] woke slowly the next morning. She was almost fully on top of Fred on his couch and his arms were wrapped around her so tightly that she couldn’t move even if she’d wanted to. She nuzzled her face into his chest, letting his warm soothing scent lull her back to sleep.

She held onto consciousness just long enough to hear footsteps approaching and George grumble, “About damn time.”

[catofulthar000]

"ii requiire maiintenance."

Scully's voice is soft from the doorway, so quiet Tavros might not have even heard him approach. He hasn't been looking too hot, lately; sagging loose skin and sunken eyes, working his jaw back and forth like a grinding hinge as he feels one bony hand along the wall.

List of things you wouldn't wanna see standing over your bed at 3PM on Alternia: he looks like a daywalker at this point.

Tavros perks up immediately, pushing back from his desk and looking over him with gentle concern.

"Hey Scully, Uhh, What do you need?" He asks, biting his lip.

He'd really been trying, feeding him and cleaning him, giving him games to play or tasks to complete. Any time he wasn't out getting food or occasionally visiting with people he spent watching over or caring for Scully. He still had hope, that he would get better. He had to get better.... Right?

"Uhm.... Do you want something else to eat before bed? Or.... Are you tired?"

Scully has been following him like a shadow, quieter and quieter as the cycles went on, glued to Tavros's side whenever he wasn't working. He stands now, half-hunched over and gaunt, peeking out from under his overgrown hair and clinging to the doorframe.

(He's been having a lot of trouble getting around. Bumping into more things, having to feel along the wall as the ambient buzz of his psionics becomes less and less. Voidrot is a bitch.)

"food, ii thiink. ii'm experiienciing 2ome abdomiinal tor2iion."

He stands without hesitation, smiling soft even if he can't see it, it carry's into his tone. "Alright, Uh, I have some more of that grain and broth soup I can heat up for you. That should be pretty gentle" he humms.

He crosses over to him to take him to his computer chair, still warm from where he'd been sitting, and helping him into it. "It'll just be a minute."

He fishes a half full container of soup from his mini fridge and pops it in the microwave, grabbing a spoon and making sure it's clean.

"You went and sat with the bees earlier? They were happy to see you..." They were also worried, but so was he. They were all worried about Scully, but it'd be okay...

He takes out the container, checking it's not too hot to hold, or eat, before handing it over to him, taking his hands and guiding them around it before placing the spoon in.

"Thank-you."

Scully follows--he doesn't even swing his arms when he walks, which is ... weird, maybe--and hovers at his elbow, staring blankly off to the side rather than straight ahead. His brow knits, momentarily, but he turns his attention to the soup as soon as his hands are nestled around it.

It's ... probably hard to watch, sometimes. His hands shake so much now that most of the soup doesn't even make it out of the bowl, and what does make it to his mouth stays there for a moment with the stilted, shuddering motion of his adam's-apple (he called it his rumblesphere, weird biology) as he struggled to swallow.

Most of it goes down half-chewed. Thankfully, it's Soup™️. He can't manage more than soup these days; poor guy bit into a slice of an apple, the other day, and a crumbled chunk of one of his teeth came with it.

He manages about a half a cup, though, sagging slightly with his head resting on Tavros's shoulder for balance.

"ha2 DK contacted you?"

Tav tries a little to steady his hand without being too invasive about it, a warm, steady palm resting over his as he kneels next to his computer chair.

The soft mush of broth soaked rice doesn't need any real chewing, and Tav watches him eat quietly. He reaches up once to brush some of his hair back from his face, it's getting so long, but he doesn't seem to care to cut it, but at least he was keeping it clean for him....

He takes the container when he stops eating, setting it on the desk and putting an arm around him as he rests his head on his shoulder.

"Uhm.... Not yet.... You want to get in bed?"

"ye2 plea2e," he murmurs. He never seems to mind Tav's hands--sometimes when they're on his face he even leans into it, a twitch at a time--but this time he halts, his knees stuttering. That uncut hair hangs in his face as he slouches forward a little, with a shaking inhale.

"Tavro2,” he says, his shoulders hunching forward slightly as he tucks a hand over the seam of his own lips, "ii'm about two rumiinate."

He pauses as he's helping him up, almost anticipating it and changing direction once he confirms.

"Oop, Okay, Hold on." He mumbles, gently lifting him, (he's so light) and taking him just around the corner into the ablution block, steadying him over a basin.

"We're here." He confirms quietly, quickly pulling all his hair back and away from his face, gently rubbing his back with his other hand.

Scully is barely draped over the lip of the sink when he loses the contents of his gastric-sack. It's sparse, and it's thin, and this is probably the third or forth time there's been blood in it. His knees shake a little--Tavros's hands on him are just about the only reason he's upright, pitiful as he may be.

He nods, gasping, and feels until he finds the faucet to wash out his mouth. It's routine, now.

"2orry," he says, like he says every time.

"S'okay." He mumbles back, grabbing the glass by the basin to fill with cold water "Wanna try drinking a tiny bit before you lay down?" He asks, hand still slowly stroking his back as he stands behind him.

Mischief, the worm off the string peeks in the ablution block, sniffing Scully's ankle with a soft whine.

He nods, and when Mischief comes snuffling in, he nudges it gently with his foot in greeting. He likes Mischief a lot--more than once, Scully has been found curled up in it like a feather boa, sound asleep.

"thank-you," Scully murmurs, out of the sudden silence. His bony hand dangles around Mischief's snout, letting the baby Snuffle About with his fingers, "ii'm 2orry ii wa2n't your friiend."

The long blue beast fondly licks at his fingers with a golden tongue before pressing it's muzzle against his palm.

Tav smiles a little at the interaction before pausing when Scully appologieses.

"Oh.... Uhm.. It's okay Scully. It is not like everyone is always going to be friends with everyone...." He reasons as he stoops to gently pick Scully up, cradling him in his arms as he carrys him to the bed. "And, We are maybe kind of friends now.... Right?" He adds tentatively as Mischief follows.

He lays him down on the soft blanket he tucks him in with every night, waiting for Mischief to jump up on the bed and nestle under his head and around his neck, fluffy and warm, like an extra pillow.

Scully is silent, carefully feeling along it's muzzle, cradling it as he stares into space.

"ii treated you pretty poorly, though. you diidn't de2erve iit."

Tavros scoops him up, and he curls himself a little smaller. He's always fucking freezing now. It makes sense--he lost a lot of weight very quickly, and the heat leeches from him as easily as if he were standing outside in winter. We love a heat-sink king.

"ii don't thiink ii can be your friiend," he admits, with a whisper of something that might even be regret--just a smidgen, barely-there, "iit'2 not wiithiin my current functiional parameter2. ii would have, though."

Mischief nuzzles up, and Scully hesitates for a moment as he struggles to lift his head, so Mischief can nestle in with him. He buries his face in it's fur, and a little of the tension looses from his jaw. Better. Safe.

"Oh...... Well, That's okay.... You're still my friend, I think...." He humms as he tucks the blankets warm around him, making sure he's in a comfortable position before stepping away for a moment.

The two fluff bugs crawl over the blankets to curl up against him, and are soon joined by a pufftapod and a nugget, all gathering around to help keep him warm. Even Tink flutters down to nestle by his neck, licking his ear a couple times before settling down.

Tavros opens a shaded window to let some of the warm, morning air in, smiling as a few pairs of bees buzz into the room. "Uhm, Anyway, If you think you would have, Then that still sort of counts."

He comes back around to the other side of the bed, carefully crawling over to lay down beside him, pillow propping up his head a bit as he lowers himself face down, reaching out to let the warm weight of his arm rest over Scully.

One by one, everything Warm in the room curls up around him. Maybe they know, maybe they don't. Maybe they just know he's cold and he shouldn't be. The fluffbugs settle around his feet, the pufftapod at the small of his back. He tilts his head for Tink without thinking, a little more tension melting off of his face.

He thinks he might miss his lusus, sometimes. He doesn't know if it's a biological function or a sentimental one.

He shakily lifts one rail-thin arm from the nest of covers for the bees to alight on, eyes fluttering a little as Tavros settles in.

It may have been harder to notice before, but Scully is so ... fragile. Smaller than ever now that his skin clings to him like paper. He was 4'11 to begin with, and under Tav's arm he probably feels like a ragdoll, chilly and gangle-edged.

Scully nestles up to his arm with a sound that might have been exertion, might have been a weak little trill. The bees bumble over his wrist, between his fingers as he curls himself up small against Tav's side.

His eyes crack open, and he tilts his head suddenly, towards the blank ceiling as if staring at something.

They know something, in the way beasts do. Tavros should probably know too, but.... they're just worried. He's worried too. He shifts closer to help share his own warmth, arm curling around him to pull him in when he strains, returning a quiet trill.

They all settle in, safe and warm and still, a half a dozen beating hearts, breathing slow. Scully looking up so suddenly rouses Tavros from drifting off. His eyes flutter open as he peeks over at him, humming a curious noise, soft and sleepy.

"Hmmm.... Scully?"

"Hm?"

His head twitches towards Tavros, but his eyes stay glued to the ceiling, silent. One of his hands scritches idly atop the worm-on-string's head. He sags with exhaustion, but his eyes remain open, fixed above them even in his drowsiness.

"You okay....?" He mumbles. He can't turn his head to see what he's looking at, but he shifts his arm slightly, his hand resting over his on top of Mischief's head.

"yeah."

Scully nods against his arm, nestling a little closer. His voice rests at a murmur. Peaceful, unhurried as he dozes.

"ii wa2 ju2t watchiing the 2tar2."

Tav smiles sleepily, gently squeezing his hand as he settles back down. He assumes he means the fairylights hung around the ceiling, forgetting for the moment that he's blind.

"Hope they're pretty...." He sighs, nuzzling back into his pillow to drift off to the sound of buzzing bees and ambient city noise playing on his palmhusk.

He always liked the city noise better.

Scully curls in on himself, nuzzles against Tavros--safe, and warm, and more cared-for than he has been since before Dart disappeared--and Sleeps.

(When the cool light of the moon washes in, and the room starts the take on a little chill, and the animals start to whine, Tavros can find him. Still curled up so, so small, so cold he must have been lying there for hours, eyes still half-lidded open, staring up at the Stars.)

It's the soft, sad mooing of his lusus that wakes him first, then the slight chill that rouses him. His hand still rests over cold, stuff fingers, and he pushes himself up as he starts to realize just how cold they are.

He stares down at him, slowly tuning into the beasts' emotions, Mischief squirmed out from under him to lay on his unmoving chest, Tink nosing sadly at his ear with mournful lows. He doesn't have to check, he knows through them, but still he gently squeezes his hand, murmurs "Scully?" before his breathing starts to catch and hiccup, before tears start streaming down his cheeks.

His face scrunches up, eyes squeezing tight as he starts to cry, shaking with open sobs as he leans over him, one hand holding his tight as the other gently brushes over his hair. The falling tears burst instantly into bright red flowers with black and white centers, greenery stretching from under them to slowly weave a carpet of tiny blue flowers beneath them.

He doesn't know how long he cries, but it's long enough that by the time he opens his sore eyes, his entire room has been carpeted in flowers of grief, coating the floor and climbing up the walls, tangling through his bookcase and out the window, and encircling Scully's still body in a bower of red and blue and black and white...

He... has to get out of here. He needs to get away, from this, from anything, everything. He shakily let's go of his hand, climbing off of the bed and stumbling a little to catch himself on his desk. He can't just leave him here though, can he?

He fumbles on the surface for his palmhusk, brushing away forget me nots and pushing at the screen with leaden fingers and bleary eyes. Ringleader was Scully's other caretaker. He could take care of this, because Tavros, just

Couldn't.

A brief message, and he shoves the device into his pocket, more out of habit than anything, Before stumbling his way out of the room. He stretches his wings out in the cool moonlight and flys away from it all without a second thought.

[leafs-lover]

I wish you were here

A/N: This was requested. I thought about making this a fluff piece, but had a change of heart and re-wrote half of it. I just have a thing for Freddie, and not going to apologize for it ;)

Also I am really bad at coming up with titles

Summary: After a stressful couple of weeks apart Fred surprises you.

Warnings: Smut, swearing, NSFW

“Hey babe” you mumble into the phone. You look to your clock on your bedside table 4:17 is illuminated on the screen.

“Hey how’s it going?” he asks as you rub your eyes open.

“Good, just lying in bed” you say yawning.

“You sound tired” he says through the phone.

“Yeah most people are at 4am” you joke.

“Oh shoot. I’m sorry babe I didn’t even realize. Why did you answer?”

“We have been pretty busy, haven’t had much time to chat” you explain.

Fred returned to Denmark almost 8 weeks ago and you weren’t able to go with him due to the pandemic. You don’t have enough vacation days left; you would only have a couple days in Denmark.

You had only started dating in January, and when the NHL paused in March Fred tried to return to Denmark but the borders had closed prior to the pause. When Auston offered for Fred to quarantine in Arizona, Fred asked your thoughts on it.

If he stayed you would have to quarantine together otherwise you wouldn’t get to see him at all. That would have meant after only being together for 7 weeks you would temporarily move into his condo, and spend every second together for who knew how long. Neither of you really wanted to do that, it would be a lot of pressure on a new relationship so he opted to go to Arizona.

You hadn’t talked about labels, and didn’t know what to expect. While he was gone Fred would facetime with you once or twice a week, and you exchanged texts almost daily. He constantly complained about Auston’s terrible taste in TV shows, you complained about your roommate’s terrible attempt at baking.

You didn’t anticipate being in contact with Fred that much, but he always carved time to talk with you, he even sent you flowers a couple times and ordered you dinner from your favourite restaurant. Neither of you thought it would be almost 3 months before Fred would return to Canada.

But when he finally did, you were the first person he saw. You had just over 3 weeks together before he had to enter the bubble, and you spent much of that time together. It was so nice to have Fred back, cuddled up on the couch relaxing with him. When you finally saw him you melted into his touch, and your relationship felt like it had been catapulted forward instead of back even with the time apart.

When he went into the bubble, you didn’t expect to see him again until September, you wanted to see him but you hoped it would be three months, but it ended up being less than three weeks. He carried so much of the strain of that loss on himself, and you tried to tell him it was a team effort. The weight isn’t his alone, but the media and a lot of the fans had a different opinion. Everyone was calling for him to be traded, if the disappointing end to the season wasn’t enough that didn’t help.

He spent a couple weeks back in Toronto, but you could tell he was defeated and needed to get out. He needed to get away from the media, the rumours and spend time relaxing with his family. Fred tried to fight you on it, he wanted to stay and spend time with you. Obviously you did too, but you knew he needed this.

When he left the NHL had hoped on a December start to the season, meaning Fred would be coming back in October or early November. But as the date for the season got pushed so did his return date. You had some late nights at work, and with the time change it made it hard to talk all the time, so when you had the opportunity you took it. Leading you to this 4am phone call on a Saturday morning.

“Go back to bed skat, we can talk later” Fred says into the phone.

“No Freddie, we barely talked this week. Now that I have you on the phone I don’t want to hang up” you whine causing Fred to laugh.

“Okay, but if you get too tired Kære let me know. I don’t have any plans today so we can talk later.”

”I’m just going to make some coffee” you say getting out of bed and heading to your kitchen. ”I only planned on getting some groceries later so I can take a nap later if i want.” You start scooping the beans into the coffee maker, opting for a large pot due to the time.

”Wish I was there for your nap” Fred says to you.

”Mmm same. You are perfect for napping with” you respond.

”Oh yeah, why’s that?”

”Because you are perfect for cuddling with. I just fit perfectly in your arms, and you are like a pillow and a blanket in one.”

Fred laughs into the phone “you just use me for my body eh?”

“Well can you blame me?” you joke walking back to your bed with your mug in hand. “No I don’t actually, I mean it’s definitely nice –“

“Nice? My body is nice? That’s what you use to describe a haircut” he jokes.

“Obviously it’s much better than nice. I just meant it’s nice that you have that body, but I wouldn’t care if you didn’t. That’s not why I’m with you though.”

“Obviously not if you just think it’s nice” he mumbles jokingly. “How was your week?”

“It was so long, I had to stay late almost every night, and there was 3 nights I didn’t leave until after 9. My boss actually wanted me to work today but I had to say no. I felt like I was getting sick from lack of sleep, so it’s nice to have the weekend off.”

“You work so hard you deserve the time off” he says to you.

“Yeah, I have a couple vacation days left, maybe I’ll take a long weekend or something.”

“Yeah you should do that, don’t want to get run down working so much” Fred replies.

“But what would I do? I wouldn’t have enough days to fly to another province. And parts of Ontario are shutting down” you explain.

“Have a staycation, I’m sure a couple days doing nothing would be nice” he replies.

“Yeah I guess” you say.

“So how are my plants doing, kill them yet?”

“Nope, they are still alive, but I should get over there today to water them” you respond.

“When you say alive, do you mean alive and thriving or clinging to life?”

“Uhh, somewhere in the middle” you say causing Fred to laugh.

You continue to talk for another hour; you curl up in your bed wrapped tightly under your duvet. You can feel your eyes getting heavy, but you try to stay awake to talk to him. You are unsuccessful and end up dozing off.

When you return to work on Monday you talked to your boss who approved for you to take Friday and Monday off work, giving you a four day weekend. You are excited for your days off, but you have to get to end of day Thursday. Your week is filled with multiple zoom calls and long days, you are actually surprised your boss is okay with you taking time off.

When Wednesday comes you are completely drained. You had multiple meetings, angry clients and have to finish a project before you take off for the weekend. You were so busy you didn’t even notice you hadn’t had lunch until it was almost 3.

It’s almost 9pm when you walk through your door with some papers and dinner in hand when you hear your phone ring. Your apartment is dark and empty, your roommate away at her parents. You drop everything on your table, answering your phone as you head to your room to change.

“Hello?” you say not even looking at the caller-id, turning on your bedside lamp.

“Hi min kære, how are you?”

“Hey Freddie” you put him on speaker phone to change out of your work clothes. “I’m good, got home not too long ago.”

“Another late day eh?” he asks.

“Yeah I was trying to get my project done before my holidays tomorrow” you explain.

“Finish it?” he asks as you move to the kitchen to start eating dinner.

“Almost, should only take a couple hours tomorrow.” You look to your stove and see the time 9:09 illuminated on the screen. “Fred why are you calling so late; it’s like 3am there.”

“We haven’t talked since the weekend, and you haven’t sent many texts the past couple days” he says lightly.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ve just been so busy with work. I’ve been having late days and have basically gone straight to bed. I also didn’t want to call you so late, I know you had a golfing trip one day” you begin to explain.

“Oh I know babe, you don’t have to explain. I just thought you could use a pick me up” Fred says to you.

“Honestly I would love one. My week has been brutal and it’s only Wednesday. Can’t wait for tomorrow” you say sitting at your table. You didn’t realize how stressed you had been until you sat down and thought about the week. The angry clients and long hours have really taken a toll on you. Stopping to think about things brings a lump to your throat, as you feel your eyes begin to well up.

“(Y/N) you there?” you hear through the phone. You zoned out trying to not cry, you thought you could wait until you got off the phone with Fred to break down. You were wrong, and now you are trying to stifle your tears so Fred doesn’t hear you, but are unsuccessful.

“Skat, what’s wrong?” he asks hearing your quiet sobs through the phone.

“I don’t know” you cry into the phone. “I don’t think I realized how stressed I am, and tired. Just everything. It’s a lot.”

You move to your bed and crawl under your duvet, wrapping yourself tightly into a cocoon. Fred stays on the other end; he doesn’t say anything for a while, letting you cry in silence. After a couple minutes your eyes begin to get heavy, as your sobs have stopped.

“I wish you were here” you say lightly.

“Me too kære” he says. He stays on the line while you lay in bed, not hanging up until he hears your soft breaths through the phone.        

“You should go” your boss says poking her head in your office at 3pm. “Start your weekend a couple hours earlier” she says smiling at you.

“You sure? I don’t want –“

“(Y/N) this place won’t fall apart without you, enjoy your time off.” With that your boss walks away, you shut down your computer and grab your jacket. You reach to grab your phone and see the blinking light. You unlock it to a text from Freddie.

F: Don’t forget to water my plants

Y/N: I watered them Monday…

F: That’s 3 days, you trying to kill them? ;)

You laugh at his message. Instead of responding you decide to go to his condo and send him a picture of you watering his plants. You jump in your car and head to his place. You park in the underground lot and make your way to the elevator. You walk down his hall and unlock his door when you hear music playing in the kitchen.

You don’t remember even listening to music when you were last here. Did someone break in? But who breaks in and plays music? You set your bag down and look around not noticing that anything missing or broken.  You walk through the living room and hear clattering in the kitchen and panic sets in someone is in here.

If you weren’t so panicked you would have noticed the bag in the living room, and the pair of shoes by the front door. You hear footsteps in the kitchen and turn around to run and hide when you feel hands on your hips.

They spin you around and pull you in tight to their chest and wrap their arms around your back. You go to push yourself off the person when you smell the familiar cologne.

“You’re off early” he mumbles kissing your head.

“Fred?” you whisper in disbelief, looking up at the person in front of you.

Your eyes meet his golden brown eyes, and red hair. You bring your hands up and stroke his beard “what are you doing here?”

Instead of answering you he smiles and kisses you. Your hand tangles into his hair when he pulls back slightly “I missed you” he mumbles against your lips.

“I missed you too” you say smiling. Without warning you jump, Fred catches you and carries you into the kitchen setting you on the counter.

“Can’t believe you’re here” you say pulling him to you for a kiss.

“I know, I didn’t know when I was going to come back but after last night I knew I had to come see you. Hearing you cry broke my heart, but the worst part was not being able to do anything about it.” He brushes a piece of your hair behind you ear “I booked a flight right after you fell asleep.”

He leans in to place a soft kiss on your lips, you snake your hands into his hair, stroking his beard on the way. You pull him closer, locking him in for a passionate kiss. You don’t want to ever be apart from him again, and you groan slightly when Fred pulls away from you.

“I wasn’t expecting you for a little bit longer. I wanted to have dinner ready when you got here to try and salvage the life from my plants” Fred jokes looking over at his wilting plant on his table.

You laugh “yeah sorry about that. I was doing a good job at it, then work got crazy and I didn’t get over here as often as I’d like” you explain to him.

Fred kisses your neck “its fine, I didn’t expect them to be alive” he mumbles.

“Rude” you say turning your neck to allow him more access as he peppers kisses. Fred laughs before walking away from you. He walks over to the cupboard and pulls out two wine glasses and pours you each a glass.

He walks back and hands you a glass, he puts his other hand beside you on the counter.

“When did you get in?” you ask.

“About 2 hours ago” he replies kissing your cheek. “8 weeks is too long to be away from you.” You take a sip from your wine and turn your neck to allow him more access.

Fred runs a hand up your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. “We’ve gone longer than that Fred” you whisper.

“Yeah because the border was closed” he whispers kissing your collarbone.

“Wait it’s still closed, how did you get in?” you ask pulling away to look at him.

“I have a Visa to play on the Leafs, it allowed me back in. Should have come back sooner” he mumbles kissing down your neck again. His hands lift your legs; he places his hands under them pulling you closer to him.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask running your hand up and down his biceps as Fred sucks on your neck.

“I’m a stupid man” he mumbles his hands stroking up and down your thighs, nipping on your neck. You moan lightly, placing your wine glass on the counter. Fred moves his hands to the back of your thigh and hoists you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you down the hall to his bedroom.

He kicks his bedroom door open and reaches to the wall to turn on the light. He gently places you on the bed, his mouth attaches to yours as he hovers over top of you. Your hands gently rake through his beard, as his tongue swirls in your mouth. His hand slides up your shirt gently, his thumb pressing circles onto the skin of your stomach.

Fred grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head; he sits up on his knees and removes your pants from you leaving you in your underwear.

“This is nice” Fred says taking in your matching red set, his finger lightly grazes the fabric.

“It’s new” you respond “thought of you when I bought it.”

Fred grins, stroking a finger over your clothed core. He quirks an eyebrow at you when he feels the wetness that has accumulated “it’s been a while” you say smiling at him.

“Let me fix that” he says pulling your underwear down your legs. He lies on his stomach, hooking your legs over his shoulders. He stares into your glistening pussy for a minute; his beard rubs against your thighs his breath makes you quiver.

He finally attaches his tongue to you, licking up your juices. You moan at the contact, his tongue is still dancing outside your folds. He groans at the taste of you, before he pushes his tongue inside you. You throw your head back into the pillow as his tongue slips inside your walls.

He brings his hand up to your clit and begins to press circles into it, as his tongue slowly licks the inside of your walls. Your hands slide down to his shoulder and you squeeze them firmly as he keeps fucking his tongue in and out of you.

“Freddie” you moan as his tongue continues to press deep inside you.

You grip his shoulder and attempt to pull him up to you. You feel Fred chuckle against you, but he doesn’t stop, pressing his thumb harder into your clit.

“Babe” you groan pulling harder on his shirt “I need you.”

Fred pulls back slightly staring at you with eyes dark from lust “you have me smuk” he chuckles. He attaches his lips to your clit and sucks on it, a fuck falls from your lips. Your legs begin to squirm slightly at the feeling.

“Fred…Fred…Fuck…I” you can’t form a coherent thought as he slips two fingers inside you, sucking on your sensitive bud.

His fingers begin to pump in and out of you as he pulls his mouth from you and begins sucking on your hip. He alternates between sucking and biting on your hip. Your hip arches off the bed as he continues to pump his fingers inside you.

“This what you want babe” he asks bringing his other hand to your bra, massaging your breast.

You bring a hand down to his wrist and clamp it. He stops moving his wrist and looks into your eyes.

“I need you Fred, I can’t wait” you say panting. Fred grins and slips his fingers out of you, and quickly pulls his shirt over his head. You reach up and grip his neck pulling him down to you. You lock lips with him, your hand slides up and down his firm bicep. Fred slides a hand under your back and unclasps your bra, freeing your breasts.

His firm shirtless body is pressed against you; you can feel his erection straining through the fabric of his clothes. You palm over his pants lightly before sliding your hand around to his back. His mouth leaves you and slides down to your breast and begins sucking on it, he brings a hand up and starts rolling your other nipple through his fingers, pinching it slightly. Your hands slide down his back and reach his sweat pants; you begin to push them down his large thighs.

Fred pulls away and pushes his pants and boxers down his legs and onto the floor. He falls on top of you and returns his mouth to yours; you roll and push him onto his back. You straddle him and begin grinding against his hard cock, desperate to have him inside you.

You hear Fred mumble in Danish as you continue to rock your hips against him. You fall forward kissing Fred, his hand tangles into your hair locking you in a passionate kiss. You reach over to the side table and pull a condom out.

You pull back and tear the foil, sliding it onto his hard member. You give him a few strokes before you rise up and line him up with your entrance. Fred brings his hands to your hips; you slowly start to drop down on him.

“Fuck” you mumble at the feeling of Fred inside of you, your hand goes onto his abs and you brace yourself. Fred is longer than any man you have been with, you had started to get used to his size but then he left to go to Denmark. You know Fred will hit areas nobody has ever hit before, but you just need to adjust.

“You okay smuk?” Fred asks looking up at you.

You keep dropping yourself down on him “yeah” you whine “just been a bit.”

He chuckles pulling your head down to his. You moan at the change of angle before Fred kisses you lightly.

“Don’t worry, take your time. I’m going to get you used to it soon” he smirks kissing you.

You haven’t taken all of him but you rise up and drop down on him. You moan into the kiss, Fred’s hand holding you to him, his other hand rests on your hip. You pull away from the kiss, Fred sucks on your bottom lip as you rise up and drop back down. Fred bottoms out in you, your ass hits against his thighs as you thrust on him.

“Ahh” you moan feeling him hit the deep spot inside you. Fred is still under you allowing you time to set the pace and get comfortable with him. You continue slowly thrusting on him, pushing yourself up. Your hand returns to his abs as you increase the pace.

Fred snaps his hips and pushes in you, as you drop onto him. His hands are on your hip, gripping you tightly as he helps guide you, keeping the slow pace. Your head falls back as you thrust on him; Fred slowly increases the pace under you.

You push into his stomach as your pace increases, rocking your hips against him. You bounce on top of Fred, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. He brings a hand up to your breast, cupping it as you ride him. He rolls your nipple through his fingers, as your nails dig into his firm stomach muscles. Your hand slides down his treasure line, pressing hard into his groin as you feel your high approaching.

“You gonna cum baby?” Fred asks noticing you are chasing your high. He squeezes your breast hard, pinching your nipple in the process. You hum in response unable to form words. Fred releases your breast and slides his hand down to your clit to press circles into it.

“Yeah, cum on me baby. I want to feel you, feel you’re cum drip down me” he says pressing harder into your sensitive bud. His hips snap and the pace is fast, you are a mess on top of him. Sweat is dripping down Fred’s stomach; you can feel it under your hand.

“Fuck Fred” you scream out, your orgasm is close. With every thrust Fred his your g-spot, your skin flapping has filled the room, followed by occasional curse words. You notice Fred becoming erratic under you as you continue bouncing on him.

Your orgasm crashes over you, the most intense one you have had in a while. You clench around him, your walls tighten, and you feel it in your stomach. Your eyes roll back into your head as Fred continues to thrust inside of you. Your juices dripping down his cock.

He strains to keep going, allowing you to finish your orgasm. As you finally come around you feel Fred still under you. You collapse onto his chest, his arms wrap around you. You lie on him, both your breaths slowly return to normal.

A couple minutes later Fred rolls to be on top of you, he kisses you briefly before heading to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. He pulls on his boxers and throws a t-shirt to you. You smile and pull it over your head; Fred climbs into bed and pulls you into his arms.

“I was going to make you dinner, but I think I’m too tired now” Fred jokes, stroking up and down your arm. “You okay with ordering in?”

You look up and into his golden brown eyes “sounds perfect” you respond. Fred leans down and kisses you, wrapping you tightly into his arms.

“So you should spend your long weekend here with me” Fred mumbles against your lips.

You smile and stroke his beard “I don’t plan on leaving; I want to spend as much time with you as possible. When are you heading back to Denmark?” you ask lightly, not really wanting to know the answer.

“I’m not” Fred replies. You look directly into his eyes “not unless you come with me” he says lightly kissing you again.   

[notveryglittery]

we could fall through december

summary: winter made everything so slow. roman didn’t think it fair.  ship: romantic roceit (roman/deceit) / wc: 1,600 warnings: sympathetic deceit, self-doubt/hatred, seasonal affective disorder, emotional outburst. let me know if i need to add anything. a/n: first fic of 2020 and it’s a gift!! feels good, feels organic. hope you like this, @rusted-but-golden <3 

read on ao3 | @fandersfic-roceit​

—  —  —  —  —  —  —  —  —  —  — 

Roman wondered what it was keeping him from getting out of bed.

Was it the “loss of interest?” Maybe it was the “sleep deprivation.” It just as well could have been the “lack of concentration.” Knowing his luck, it was all of the above. It was every symptom Google had listed, the apathy and the mood swings and the fatigue. He had so many things to do. There was plenty of time to do them. It was barely even noon yet which meant he had the entire day to finish the projects he’d started…

The clock flashed mockingly at him, reading 3:27. The projects he’d started had been ages ago. He couldn’t remember the last time he had picked them up. He wasn’t even sure what the date was.

Roman rolled over, burying his face into his pillow. It made breathing unnecessarily difficult. Kind of like how everything else was unnecessarily difficult. Like, why couldn’t he just kick the blankets off and get his feet on the ground? He was a prince! He was a knight! He was tough, self-assured, resilient! He had faced monsters larger than this. He faced blows to his ego like this daily.

Why did the lack of sunshine make so much of a difference?

Besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t have plenty of sunshine in his life already! Patton himself might as well have counted as one’s regular dose of vitamin D. Sometimes, Roman was lucky enough to be on the receiving end of Virgil’s smile or to hear a rare but treasured laugh from Logan. Those alone ought to have been enough to combat any gloomy day.

Finally lifting his head, Roman narrowed his eyes, squinting out the window. Not to mention, Thomas lived in Florida! The Mindscape should have reflected that. They barely had winter! It was more like extended fall. It didn’t even snow or rain (save for their consistent 3pm storm that lasted no more than an hour every day). Sure, the sun was obscured often by cloud cover but… well, it was still there! He had no excuse to be all mopey and sluggish just because the temperature had dropped.

…

Maybe he ought to just take a nap. Roman blinked, hard, and released a frustrated groan. With more effort than he’d care to admit, he lifted his arm and scrubbed the heel of his palm against his eyes, which had, quite rudely, begun to burn suddenly with tears. This was so stupid! Forcing himself to sit up felt like a herculean task, but he shoved the covers away and reached blindly for his bedside table. Instead of grabbing a tissue, though, his uncoordinated movements instead just knocked the box of Kleenex to the floor.

“Oh, come on!” He snapped, choking back a sob.

A knock sounded at the door.

“I’m busy,” he called back, without hesitation.

“You’re lying,” responded the visitor.

Roman muttered a curse under his breath. Any other day, he’d be delighted to see his beloved. As it were, he’d been avoiding Deceit just as much as he’d been avoiding everyone else. Was it a good idea to isolate himself when there was a figurative (might as well have been literal) storm cloud hovering over his head? Of course not. Not like he ever had any good ideas to begin with, anyway.

“Roman,” Deceit purred from the other side of the door.

“Fine, fine,” Roman sighed, unlocking the door with a halfhearted snap of his fingers. “Come in, then.”

At least Deceit’s arrival had distracted him from crying any more. Running a hand through his hair to try and tame his bedhead, Roman watched as Deceit let himself in. He closed the door gently behind him. He looked as exquisite as always, not a hair or thread out of place. He was carrying two containers.

“Move over,” Deceit said, seating himself on the mattress without waiting.

He set the tupperware down and turned to Roman. His eyes scanned over Roman’s face. A lot of good his poker face did him when Roman was intimately aware of every one of Deceit’s expressions and facial tics by now.

“Hi,” Deceit said softly.

“Hey,” Roman replied, muted.

Roman shifted, pulling the sheets more tightly around his waist. God, he hated winter. It was so cold. He didn’t even have the energy to conjure a space heater or electric blankets.

“Brought you lunch,” Deceit offered, picking one of the meals up and prying the lid off.

The container was full of grilled cheese sandwiches, cut into hearts. Roman looked at Deceit, unable to resist grinning a little bit.

“Patton insisted on helping,” Deceit grumbled.

Roman reached for the other and found it filled with tomato bisque. It was warm in his hands. Without a care in the world, he lifted the bowl to his mouth and drank the soup straight from it. His arms ached doing so but damn if it didn’t taste good.

“There are spoons, you know!” Deceit said, scowling.

Roman licked his lips. “Sorry.”

They ate in relative silence after that. Sometimes they took turns dipping the grilled cheeses into the soup. At one point, Roman shyly held up one of his half-eaten heart shaped sandwiches and Deceit rolled his eyes as he held his own half up against Roman’s. Deceit would talk occasionally; about Virgil and Patton taking up the living room for a blanket fort that no one else was allowed in; about Thomas and Joan’s latest additions to Reasons to Smile; about the debate he and Logan had recently regarding whether or not Pluto was a planet.

“Did he end it with viva la Pluto, fuck you?” Roman asked, reaching forward to… His fingers twitched and he pulled back, looking away.

“Of course he did,” Deceit answered. He waved a hand and the containers disappeared. A heated blanket appeared in their place. “Come here, then.”

Roman hesitated. Deceit twirled a finger in the air, changing into comfy loungewear. The next movement was directed at Roman, whose pajamas were replaced with clean ones that smelled just slightly of lavender. Deceit shoved the blanket into Roman’s lap.

God, again with the stupid tears—

“Shh,” Deceit hushed him, hands coming up to cradle Roman’s face gently. “I know. It’s okay.”

“It isn’t,” Roman croaked, allowing himself to curl his fingers around one of Deceit’s wrists. “I’m supposed to be str… stronger than this.”

“Is Patton weak when he has his Days?”

“Of course not,” Roman defended, vehemently.

“Surely, Virgil is when he panics over the tiniest of things.”

“He isn't!”

“Then why, Roman, would you think yourself weak for this?”

“It’s just a lack of sunlight,” Roman scoffed, dropping his hand to his lap, where he proceeded to pick at his chipped nail polish. He tried to turn away, tried to break their locked gaze. He was pathetic enough without having to see Deceit’s pitying expression.

“Ro,” Deceit interrupted those thoughts, tone scolding. He let Roman go, knowing better than to keep his hold when it wasn’t wanted. “Logan’s with Thomas right now but don’t think for a second that I won’t call him here if that’s what it takes.”

“We’re not going to bother him with this—”

“Bother?”

“You know what I mean!”

“Actually, I don’t,” Deceit disagreed, sneering. He hated when it came to that. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”

“The first result for "things people also ask" when you search for seasonal affective disorder is whether or not it’s real,” Roman snapped. “And I’m not real, not technically, so how can something like seasonal fucking depression affect me!”

Roman gestured towards the floor to ceiling windows that comprised one wall of his room. The sky was bright blue. “Even if it did, I have complete control over the Fantasy Realm. I could just pop in for a few hours of basking in the sunshine and I’d be all better! I can’t even do that, though!”

“Dearheart, you know vitamin D in the Fantasy Realm would work just as well as hugs and food do.” Deceit tried not to think about the last time Roman had forgotten this. It’d been… frightening, to say the least.

“They literally have lamps that do the same thing but go off I guess.”

“Alright.” Deceit said abruptly.

He grabbed the heated blanket and draped it over Roman’s shoulders. Then, with perhaps more force than necessary, he pushed Roman back down onto the pillows.

“Hey!” Roman shouted, not appreciating being manhandled, thank you very much.

Deceit didn’t answer and instead just sprawled himself on top of Roman’s chest. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but whenever you start to talk bad about yourself, one of the reasons is because you’re touch-starved.”

“I am not—!” Roman would have finished his sentence if Deceit hadn’t buried a hand into his hair and scraped his nails along his scalp. Goosebumps erupted on his arms and at the back of his neck. “That…” Roman’s eyes slid shut. “That is cheating.”

“We’re not done talking about this,” Deceit promised, carding his fingers through Roman’s locks. “Right now, though, I think you could just use some physical affection and a nap.”

“I’m…” Roman sighed, melting under Deceit’s gentle touches.

“Hmm?” Deceit hummed, shifting so that he was a bit more comfortable and so that Roman could still breathe easily. “What is it, my articulate amor?”

“M’sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Deceit insisted, leaning up just close enough to press a kiss to Roman’s jaw. He tucked his face into the crook of Roman’s neck.

“... Okay,” Roman agreed haltingly. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you, your highness. Rest now.”

Whatever Roman had wanted to say was overtaken by a huge yawn. He shuffled as best he could further under the blankets, warmth wrapped around his shoulders and laid reassuringly on top of him. The idea of returning to this discussion scared him more than he thought it ought to but… He supposed he could work through it if he had someone so secure and patient like Deceit to help him.

[reeesea]

Something Sweet: Part Two

~sweet lotus~

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

pairing: minsung, jisung/minho

warning: mentions of alcohol I guess...

words: 5k ish

summary: Jisung gets side tracked and ends up following Minho into a host club/bar. That's it really :)

a/n: I’m cross posting this on ao3 but don't know how links work so I hope you enjoy if you do happen to stumble upon this. <3

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

Jisung’s been busy. Well, kind of. 

Jisung, along with the other two sleep deprived zombies that make up 3racha, have once again barricaded themselves in their shared apartment. The trio has been working nonstop to prepare for their next performance. Their recently hired manager, Sana, had notified them that the venue that they were playing was actually twice as large as their last. The boys had been trying to flesh out a few new songs/covers to play and hopefully win over the crowd.

Busy wouldn’t really describe the boys. Yes, they were working hard producing more and more, but the lulls of writer’s block and exhaustion would set in eventually. Each time would leave them to fend for themselves by staring mindlessly at the ceiling, or collapsing into an unplanned 4 hour nap, or just plain gorging themselves on the various carry outs of the day. 

Changbin, who surprisingly was able to work remotely for his producing job at JJP Ent., was juggling his work for them and his work for 3racha. Bin would sneak out of his studio/bedroom whenever the lull in creativity set in, or the anticipation of their Friday night show started creeping up on him. Almost every time this led to Chan or Jisung playing some of what they were working on and then the realization that the third rapper had joined them, neglecting his paid work, would set in commencing the throwing of shoes and a chorus of animated yells from all parties to arise. One way or another, always returning a reluctant Changbin back to his, as Jisung put it, “big boy work” and the other two back to their respective laptops and keyboards. 

Chan was probably the most focused of the three. His ability to juggle multiple projects at the same time was practically god-like and occasionally left the other two producers completely clueless as to which project he was actually working on. When the exhaustion had finally caught up with him, Chan could be found by the other boys asleep sitting in front of his laptop. Changbin and Jisung had worked out a little system to keep the older in check, taking turns moving an unconscious Bang Chan to the couch and making sure he had eaten before returning to their own assignments. The leader would wake up a few hours later feeling confused, but thankful for the other two's efforts to keep him on his feet. 

Jisung, the ever all-rounder of the group, usually was the one busy writing, composing, producing, and doing anything he could get his hands on. But this time, the main reason Jisung never quite felt busy was because no matter how hard he tried, sometimes he just couldn't quite find the words for his verses. The new addition to their set list actually didn't take much time to make, production wise, but writing his verse always turns out to be a challenge when the writer’s block sets in. Even with days straight of thinking about what he wanted to say on his part, no progress meant no work had been done, which to Jisung meant he had not been busy. It was a slippery slope that all of them had experienced before, but this time Jisung’s descent down that slope came in the form of trashing pages of lyrics and stanzas immediately after spending hours on them, and distracting himself in piles of blankets while scrolling forums, SNS, and internet videos for inspiration. From which the cycle continued. The concept of just freestyling it completely on Friday was starting to sound better and better.

Sana would occasionally come by (daily? None of them really knew what day it was, only that it wasn’t Friday yet), opening up the black-out curtains that lined the floor to ceiling windows of the apartment, always followed by at least one audible groan from one of the members. During one of the many occasions of Jisung staring blankly at the ceiling in the dark, Sana had entered the apartment and practically tripped over Jisung from where he was curled up on the floor in a blanket chimichanga, “Jisung-ssi, why are you on the floor, again. Its literally 3pm.”

Jisung liked to call them chimichangas, mostly because he really liked that it was a four syllable word, but it also described him best when he was in a blanket burrito feeling especially fried from exhaustion.

After tripping over Jisung for maybe the third time that week, Sana had left the apartment telling them to be sure to be ready for their performance tomorrow at five pm, when she would meet them at the venue. Although Jisung was the one currently rolled up on the floor, the other boys had somehow looked even more exhausted on the couch with emptied coffee cups in their hands and obvious dark circles under their eyes. They had finished in the early morning as always, trying their best to prepare for their performance, that apparently was tomorrow. That was news to Jisung, and still nothing written for his verse.

“You guys look so dead, how are you even awake right now” Jisung mused from his bundle on the floor. 

“I honestly don't know. Do you think I could just go to sleep until our performance tomorrow?” Chan chuckled at the realization that their call time wasn't more than 17 hrs away. 

“Honestly you need it, with how much you got done this week. You finished almost all the tracks for the album, right?” Changbin asked from his spot on the couch. Chan nods vaguely at the question . 

“Yeah out of the songs we chose, I was able to brush them up, and fixed the beat on a few. We can look at them closer after Friday.”

“This week didn't seem real. The last thing I remember was dragging Chan’s unconscious body down the hallway after we got back from Menu 98.” Jisung was gesturing wildly beneath the blanket he was under, but the other two didn't have to even look at him to know he was being dramatic. “Bin-hyung it took you like 3 whole minutes to put the right key in the door. I'm glad your attempts with the bottle opener didn’t end up damaging the lock.” 

That one earned Jisung a pillow to the face. 

“Well hopefully this Friday we won't end up in the same condition. Wine hangovers are the fucking worst,” Changbin held his head in remembrance of the pain but a smile was starting to sneak out on to his face. “But guys, since we’re finally officially signed with a company, I wouldn't mind getting to celebrate again this weekend.” 

His smile only grew as the other two joined in the grinning from their respective spots in the living room. It was true, they finally signed with a company. JJP Entertainment had reached out to them after having seen them perform one of their shows. Changbin had submitted a producer application to the company earlier that year, and seemingly as soon as they had seen the three in action all of them were accepted and got to sign with the agency. Changbin had begun working as a producer about a month ago while the other two had just recently been officially signed into the company as group members. To all of them it still seemed like it was too good to be true, but a week into it they were all just excited to be calling themselves recording artists and to have consistent pay for their professional work. 

Their manager Sana was a result of the company beginning to help promote 3racha as a group. Chan had mentioned that they weren’t going to be officially announced as a part of the company until they could properly debut with their album. Jisung wasn't going to complain though, he was just happy to feel like the dreams they’ve had since their underground highschool rapper days were finally being realized. 

All three of them, grinning wildly, were already feeling antsy to be on stage again. The hours until they could step onstage couldn't move fast enough.  

---

Minho had a busy fucking week.

 He had picked up two extra closing shifts that he usually would have days off on, but the reward of a bigger paycheck pulled his leg into accepting to take them. The bright side, he supposed, was that his coworker had taken his Friday shift and he was able to have a night off. His original plan to spend the entire night in the studio was pretty much shattered when his annoyingly loving roommates had scolded him when he had told them his plans. During morning rehearsal the group was able to get a lot done, and had polished their performance piece they had planned for a showcase in the coming week.

Minho told himself that he would have still stayed after practice if it wasn't for Hyunjin’s nagging to visit him at work that night, but he was packing his bag just as soon as the others once they were finished.The truth being that going to Hyunjin’s work almost always included free drinks and good company, and Minho felt like it would be the perfect way to relax his nerves after the week of productive practice, and painful working shifts. 

Hyunjin worked at the host club and bar a couple streets away from their apartment. The establishment was mostly known for the beautiful and handsome hosts and hostesses that worked there who served up drinks and polite conversation. In the more recent years, the place was becoming popularly known as being just a normal service bar that just had beautiful servers and bartenders. Many tourists and locals came to the bar in hopes of seeing and meeting these beautiful people, while also obtaining their weekend quota of alcohol. Of course as Hyunjin could attest to the host club wasnt without clients, as his boss asked him multiple times if he wanted to switch positions from bartender to host due to all the patrons asking if he was available.

“Come on Hyung! You can come and meet my new coworkers. Also you promised to visit Momo-noona last time and she’s still pissed you haven’t been back in like a month. Honestly at this point she wont stop worrying that you aren’t coming back to see her, and keeps asking me like-” 

“Okay, okay Hyunjin I’ll come with you, just stop rambling,” Minho giggled at the younger antics and his tendency to ramble to himself aloud, while in a conversation. It was reasons like this that made Minho glad the boy was only a bartender and not a host. Although, he would probably pay himself just to see the young 21-year-old try and make coherent conversation with a client. Hyunjin was beyond just beautiful, but when it came to conversing with strangers past their drink order, he was quite a bit less than suave. 

Hyunjin cheered as he skipped out the studio doors, joining arms with Felix as they made their way toward their shared apartment. 

---

Jisung left their flat early in hopes of being able to find the venue on his own, but still allow himself time to properly get lost. Surprisingly enough he was able to find the venue on the other side of town without much trouble and with Google Maps opened on his phone. One of the  reasons why it was so easy to find, was that the venue was huge. Among the lavish entrance, and its multicolored lighting, it had a large marquee with “3racha” shown in bold as the night's act. It was still the early evening and the district’s businesses were just starting to show signs of preparation for the night's patrons and customers. There were food stalls setting up, readily pre-cooking the batches of street food for those who would be passing by throughout the night. Clubs were just beginning to open their doors and prepare for the crowd that always came to dance away the start of the weekend. The bars were beginning to gather their additional servers and bartenders, from the looks of the various uniformed strangers on the street entering their respective places of employment. There were a few barhopping adults and students littering the streets with excited chatter and giggles of anticipation. 

Jisung can’t say he ever went out with friends much other than when the group would perform at bars and clubs right out of high school. He never had experienced the “wild night out with your friends” trope that he secretly loved watching in dramas and tv shows. There was just something watching a group of friends all going and enjoying a night together that made Jisung’s heart smile. Looking around again and escaping his thoughts, he spots a familiar face in the distance. 

In front of him is his cute server from last week, Minho, walking down the street not even 50ft away. Granted Jisung had honestly forgotten about the man after that night, as the dull ache of a hangover had occupied his mind the morning after. Jisung never thought he would actually see the man again outside the confines of the restaurant that he worked at. And maybe because this coincidence felt more like fate, and maybe because Jisung is the kind of guy to believe in fate, or maybe because Minho had smiled and from 50 ft away it still took Jisung’s breath away, Jisung found himself stumbling forward to follow the man into the bar he had just entered. 

--- 

Minho had walked into the familiar establishment and immediately went and found his place on a barstool. 

“You didn't have to come this early.” Hyunjin was all dressed up in his collared shirt and vest, with his name tag reflecting the dim lights from above his heart. The completed uniform of all the bartenders and servers at Sweet Lotus, of course, made Hyunjin look even more like a prince than usual. 

It was barely 15 minutes after the bar had opened for the night when Minho’s leather pants and silk shirt wearing ass had entered. 

“Well, it's not like I had any other plans tonight. Felix had left for work and it was too lonely in the apartment to wait for the bar hopping crowd to pass through, so I thought I would just beat them instead.” 

“I knew you missed me.” Hyunjin made a kissy face toward Minho that was met with a gentle face slap by the hand of the older. 

“Please, I only came to get an early start on the night. Maybe try and beat the in house record for free drinks.”

“Oh please you already know you still hold the record, don't act cocky” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, and earned a giggle from the other. There was a running competition between the off duty servers and hosts of who could get the most free drinks from strangers in a night. It was a vanity competition as much as it was a ploy for the employees to boost the bar's sales when off shift. 

Minho thrived off of it, when he had worked as a host for the club. He had been in the highest demand on and off duty, gathering a total 19 drinks paid for by strangers within a single night. Even after Minho had left the club, his record still held. Hyunjin would sometimes come home updating Minho on how close some of his new coworkers had gotten to the record, well aware of how much the title inflated the man’s ego. 

Before Minho had the chance to respond a tuft of brown hair tripped into the bar entrance. A familiar looking boy with big shining eyes, searched the room until making eye contact with Minho. The determined look in the boy’s eyes was completely contrasted by the soft smile starting to appear on his lips as he approached the bar. 

Recognition flooded his memory as Minho looked back at the cute boy that had given him his number on a receipt the previous weekend. The boy struggled slightly at getting atop the stool next to Minho, earning him a slight snicker from the bartender as he watched the scenario play out in front of him. Hyunjin just watched his cocky ass roommate be made speechless by the entrance of a cute high school looking kid dressed in street clothes, there was no way he wasn't going to hound Minho when they got home. 

“Hi.” The younger looking boy smiled again fully creating a heart with his lips, and Minho couldn't help but smile back. That seemed to only make the younger grin wider if that was possible and his eyes sparkled with content. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I met you last week, I mean kind of. You were my server on Friday night, and you recommended a drink and a dish for me, and I’m pretty sure it was the best thing I had ever tasted before. And now that may seem like a completely crazy reason to low key follow you into a bar after seeing you on the street, but for some reason I feel indebted to you for giving me the best thing I’ve ever tasted also I’m pretty sure I was embarrass-”

“Hi Jisung,” Minho didn't know anyone else could ramble even more than Hyunjin, but here he was, Han Jisung, the cute boy in the pink hoodie who had given him his number and a tip that was quite a bit more than his 20% usual. In full honestly Minho had found the receipt a few times during the week in his work pants pocket, but had always returned it before considering actually dialling the number scrawled on it. 

“You don’t have to feel indebted to me, that’s all apart of my job…” A wave of guilt weighed on Minho as he made eye contact with Jisung again. “Also I apologize for never messaging you. I know you left me your number on Friday, and I usually don’t pay too much mind when customers give me their numbers, but for some reason I still kept yours.” Jisung’s eyes widened at that and his expression looked as if he had just realized something. 

Minho just continued, “To be completely honest, I didn't think I would see you again, especially outside of my work.” 

“I didn’t either,” Jisung quickly interjected. “And to also be totally honest, I completely forgot that I gave you my number. Tipsy me can be a little more bold than I thought.” He chuckled inwardly at himself. Looking at Minho now, Jisung had no idea how even tipsy he had found the balls to do something like that. In casual clothes, Minho looked god-like to Jisung, and something about the change in atmosphere made Customer Service Minho almost non-existent. Being able to look at Minho, his glittering sharp eyes, his perfectly styled hair, and breathtaking smile without any filters, and something about it made Jisung’s heart beat even louder. There was a slight pause as Jisung had stopped speaking and had got distracted with staring at all of Minho’s features. “Uh..um… anyway damn now I feel bad. Can I like buy you a drink or something to make up for it?” Jisung barely managed to stutter that out. 

“Hey Min-hyung, that's your first for the night, and it's not even five yet. Damn maybe you will break your record,” Jisung looked over to the voice's owner and seemed to have just acknowledged the presence of the bartender after entering.

“Shut up Jinnie, I don’t wanna make him pay for my drink, the sun’s not even set” 

“That hasn't stopped you before” 

“No I really mean it, I'll pay for your drink if you'll let me. Not really sure what you two are discussing but I don't have a problem paying, even just to mend my consciousness” Jisung pleaded. 

“You sure talk a lot with your wallet there, Han.” Hearing Minho using his last name to address him wasn't lost on Jisung. If anything Jisung was starting to take it as a challenge. 

“Well, let me buy you a drink and we can talk now because we didn't get the chance over the phone.” Jisung really wasn’t sure where that confidence came from but it diminished quickly as he held his breath waiting for Minho to respond.

Minho smirked and nodded agreement, ordering his drink. “What about for you?” the bartender asked Jisung as he was taking out his card to pay for said drink. 

“Oh nothing for me I have to get ready for a show soon,” squinting to read the man’s name tag “Hyunjin-ssi.” 

Minho's curiosities from the previous weekends returned, and he found himself jumping on the opportunity to learn more about the boy. They were just curiosities. Han Jisung was just a curiosity. “What is it you do exactly?” 

“Oh I’m a rapper in a group, with the two other guys you saw. Together were super cool rap trio 3racha~” Jisung put an emphasis on the name with excessive hand gestures. Minho thought they were cute. “And we're actually playing at the venue not too far from here. We’re on at 9 if you want to come watch.” Jisung smiles widely at that, cocking an eyebrow as if that was persuasion enough to get Minho to come. 

It was. “Maybe I’ll stop by then. I can’t say I’m not curious.” Minho tries his best to feign disinterest, but his roommate’s smirk from across the bar meant that he wasn’t completely successful. 

Minho glares at the bartender while Jisung continues the conversation. “So what was it that you were talking about? The record and all that, did I miss something?”

Hyunjin giggles at the question and puts on a dramatic voice, “Well, here at the Sweet Lotus even our employees will come on their off days and breaks to enjoy the bar and club as patrons, but of course flirting with coworkers is generally frowned upon, so we made up a fun little competition.” Hyunjin continues to explain what the casual competition entitles. Minho shifts to watching Jisung instead. Seeing the boy again had been somewhat of a shock, and now actually looking at him, something about Jisung made Minho’s heartbeat a little quicker. Probably just the beginning effects of the sip of alcohol he had yet to consume. Or it could be the way Minho kept thinking about how soft the boy looked, his cheeks, his hair, his smile. Jisung was cute. A cute curiosity

“So what’s the record then? The highest number of free drinks?” Jisung was asking both of them but had turned toward MInho to meet his eyes. They were full of stars, even when the rest of the place was dimly lit. 

“19 drinks in a single night, held by our very own Lee Minho. Making him the hottest guy to ever grace our establishment, at least by the objective body count” Hyunjin dramatically bows to him. 

“Hey I got 17 once” yelled the other bartender from further down the bar. 

“I better keep coming back then, so you can’t take my spot San-ah.” Minho responded and sent him a cheeky smirk. The other bartender responded with a pouty face and a groan, before turning back to another customer. “But technically I’m not an employee anymore, so I think that takes me out of the running,” Minho continues.

“Still, I don’t think you’d ever lose that title… n-no offense to any of the other employees. I mean I only just got here and have only seen a few of you, but you are all respectively very attractive, and-” 

“Jisung stop rambling.” Minho giggled at seeing how flustered he could make the other. “Plus I doubt I’d lose my spot if you have anything to do with it, Mr. rich boy rapstar.” Minho takes a sip of his drink as the other sputters once again into a bumbling mess, blushing even harder. 

“What noooo! Not me pshhhhhh. I am but a lowly underground rapper. Please my heart’s too fragile to handle being called a rapstar by you this early in the night, also I swear I’m not a rich boy! Not yet at least, I haven't even gotten my first paycheck, paycheck, you know?”

“Your tipping habits say otherwise” 

Jisung grumbles under his breath something that sounds like ‘damn it drunk jisungie you did it again’

Before the conversation could continue, Jisung's phone rings from his jacket pocket. “Hello?... AH Sana-noona please don't yell.... Yes I know what time it is. It is-” Jisung checks the clock on his phone “Five-Thirty! Fuck, I’m on the way” Jisung looks apologetically at Minho and Hyunjin and does a few hand gestures that indicate he has to go. “I'll be there in like 30 seconds, I swear!!!” 

Jisung hangs up and hops off his stool, “As you can see I am being forcefully summoned by my manager, I do hope you’ll come to the show later? Thanks for uh- I don’t know, why am I thanking you. But uh..Thanks anyway though, and I-uh hope we can do this again sometime… yeah, bye Minho.” Jisung smiles wide again and scurries out the door, almost at a full sprint. 

Minho really likes his cute smile, and tries to commit the heart shape to memory.

“Hyung, he’s sooo your type it practically hurts.” Hyunjin forms a cheeky look on his face.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Minho retorts, taking another sip of the drink Jisung bought him. 

“Come on, cute, low-key a mess, big eyes, whipped as soon as he saw you. Don't even lie, you love the ones that just fall for you as soon as you smile at them. Practically all your clients were like that, and they all followed you to the restaurant” 

“That’s not true,” Minho denied. 

“It's true our numbers dropped when you left. We had to hire three new guys to make up the loss,” San added, now suddenly a part of the conversation.

“Well now I feel bad,” he did kind of, but it also was a huge ego boost for Minho.

“Don't. You know Momo would let you pick up a shift if you ever needed” San now joining Hyunjin in leaning on the counter. 

“Maybe I don’t know, I'll just boost her drink sales tonight insead to make up for it.” They laugh, and Minho’s cocky smirk returns as more patrons enter the bar, and the two bartenders return to their positions for the night 

-----

Jisung sprinted right into hair and makeup, finding his group mates already being dressed and powdered when he got there. He was able to just barely avoid a scolding from Sana as he ducked into a changing room instead. Switching from his streetwear into something that made him look more like his stage personality ‘J.One’.

By the time it was up for them to perform all three of them shared knowing glances and charged on the stage as their loud and overpowering bass beats flooded the speakers and the entire venue. The venue itself held a couple hundred people and the cheers and energy from the crowd only fueled the rappers as they began their opening song. For the three of them being on stage was like getting a high. 

Jisung felt like he had taken 3 shots at the bar before the performance. He felt drunk on the adrenaline and his ad libs and verses all came out even more powerful than usual. Chan and Changbin took his energetic aura in stride and fed off him to energize their own performances for the whole show. 

When their new track finally starts playing, the verse that Jisung had been agonizing all week appeared in his head as if it had always been there, and he knew that this verse was going to go down as one of his best freestyles yet. Jisung closed out the song with an electric verse that flowed and hit the rhythm in ways he had never thought he could before, and after the last beat echoed throughout the room, the entire venue filled with cheers and screams from the audience. 

Minho watched from the back of the venue witnessing the three boys on stage completely dominate the stage and steal every heart from the audience. He never thought that the big eyed clutz from a few hours ago would be the man he saw on stage. On stage, Jisung practically oozed with charisma, demanding the attention of all those who would listen. At the end of the show the last verse he spit out was so intensely captivating, that it guaranteed that everyone in the audience was now in love with Han Jisung. There was no way anyone would be able to deny it. Not even Minho, even though he would definitely try. 

“I’m CB97” “This has been SpearB” “and I’ve been J.One” 

“and together we are 3racha! See you next time”

---

That night as soon as Minho got home he searched his closet for the only connection he had with the supposed rapstar. Digging into the pockets of his work pants, he pulls out the paper with the boys number and immediately adds in to his contacts before texting him:

[Rich Boy Han Jisung]

This is Lee Minho  

I saw your performance 

at least I think that was you

If it wasn't some rapstar named J.One may be your twin 

Im sure hear you this all the time

But your performance was amazing. Good job Han :)

---

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

[chilling-seavey]

Anything But Mine (d.s.) - Chapter Thirty-One

A/N what do you think Daniel should do?

Thursday, August 20th, 2020

Summer was coming to an end and the new school year was approaching quickly. Even in the dwindling last days of August, the weather was hot and sunny, making a perfect opportunity for a beach trip. Of course, it was Aidan’s idea, filling backpacks with coolers and bags of chips at some time before noon. His housemates woke to find him almost ready to leave and he ushered them upstairs to get themselves dressed and ready.

Callum had convinced Florence to join them; the concept of Callum and Aidan back to conversing still almost foreign to her. But, she would do anything for her brother and his happiness, so she got her daughters dressed and out the door with too many bags on her arm. Florence was surprisingly happy to hear that both Grayson and Emilio wanted to join their group to the beach for the day. Things had been sort of awkward since the meeting with the doctor three weeks prior but they still tried to assure her – and themselves – that were still allowed to be friendly despite the circumstances.

They were to all meet at the boys’ house by the university first, making sure they had enough supplies to last the day and were all accounted for. Clementine was beaming, bouncing on her toes with excitement in the living room, running around her mother’s legs. Callum had greeted Aidan with a quick hug, the action making Florence smirk to herself. It still felt so normal.

The boys had started to come back downstairs, dressed in their swim trunks, t-shirts, sunglasses, and flip flops, towels draped over their shoulders. Corbyn approached the newly arrived group first, taking the newborn from the stroller and held her close, cooing a little ‘good morning’ to her.

It wasn’t long until the front door opened, and Cayleigh was walking in, dressed in a bikini and oversized t-shirt, her long brown hair tied back with a scrunchie. She greeted everyone loudly, before she pressed a kiss to Daniel’s smiling face. Florence didn’t even bother herself with looking at them, her heart still aching with the fact that Daniel wasn’t speaking to her.

“If we’re all here, let’s go!” Aidan clapped his hands once, making his way to the door.

Loaded with coolers, canned beer, a few pop cans, and enough chips to survive a zombie apocalypse, the group made their way to the city bus. Their group was excessively large, especially with Florence and the stroller and Daniel with his guitar, and strangers offered them rude glances throughout their trek to the lake.

Since it was a Thursday, the beach wasn’t too busy, allowing them excess space to set up, laying out a bunch of blankets and an umbrella. Florence set up Penelope in the shade of the umbrella, both her girls layered in sunscreen. Clementine was eager to get in the water, trying to squirm away from her mother trying to apply sunscreen to her cheeks.

“Come on, baby orange!” Jack beamed, taking her hand and running with her towards the lake, Clementine’s little coral flouncy bathing suit rippling as she ran messily across the sand.

“Always have a hand on her, Jack!” Florence shouted after them.

Most of the group had gone to the water right away, the pile of the boys’ shirts and their shoes sitting on the large towel beside Florence as she sat with the newborn and watched. It was too early post-partum to go swimming, so she was stuck on dry land all day. She didn’t mind, she always loved to spend one on one time with baby Penelope. And watching Clementine have fun.

Between Grayson and Jack, Clementine was having the time of her life, splashing happily in a foot of water, the grown men needing to sit on the bottom to be comfortable to play with her. Grayson earned himself a splash in the face by the toddler, making her shriek with laughter.

Most of the group was deep in the water, Zach dumping a pail of water on Cayleigh’s head who screamed and tripped over Emilio, the two of them falling messily with a huge splash. Callum and Aidan were farther down, their close proximity and clear enjoyment making Florence smile warmly. It was a reality she didn’t know she missed.

In her thoughts, she didn’t notice Jonah walking up the beach until he sat down next to her.

“What are you doing?” Florence chuckled.

“Keeping you company.” He shrugged, draping a damp arm around her clothed shoulder.

“You like the boring squad better or something?” Florence teased, pushing him away from her.

“Definitely.” Jonah nodded, unzipping one of the backpacks and pulled out a cooler. They fell into a momentary silence. “How about Callum and Aidan?” Jonah finally spoke, taking a long sip from his drink.

“Finally. That’s all I can say.” Florence shook her head through a smile. “I know they’re still figuring things out but…finally.”

“I’m really happy for them.” Jonah agreed, propping one hand behind him on the towel. Florence glanced over at him, a gentle smile plastered on her face. It made her happy to see her brother so supported. It was a vast difference from high school, and it was so refreshing.

“How about you?” Jonah asked, returning her stare. “Are you happy?”

Florence’s smile didn’t falter but she turned to her left where Penelope was asleep on the towel under the shade of the large umbrella. She looked back to Jonah. “I’m fine.”

“Just fine?” Jonah questioned.

“Oh, my God!” Cayleigh shrieked, running up the beach towards them. “I need a drink!” she fell onto the towel with a huff, yanking over a backpack to pull a drink from. Most of their group followed after her.

Florence looked back to Jonah and pulled a tight smile, hoping it was believable. “Perfectly fine.”

The day went by quickly; most of the drinks and snacks disappearing by dinner time. Clementine was having the time of her life and crashed in her mother’s lap in the shade around 3pm. Florence busied herself with a novel, finishing it by the time the pizza was ordered. The group were sat in a circle around the multiple open boxes of pizza, Daniel playing his guitar lazily with Cayleigh curled up next to him. Clementine had claimed a spot between Zach and Jack across the circle, blabbering on to them excitedly, her energy resorted after her hour-long nap. Emilio had claimed the recently awoken newborn, talking to her quietly as she stared up at him from his arms. Of course, Cayleigh was the loudest, going on about the day with a can of beer in hand, and Daniel was absolutely beaming at her, hanging onto every word she said. Now the boys themselves were getting tired of hearing her talk so much.

“What are we going to do for dessert?” Florence finally jumped in when Cayleigh took a second to breathe. She couldn’t help but notice how Daniel’s smile fell into an expressionless stare the moment she opened her mouth. He acted like that question was an insult to his entire family. Florence couldn’t hold back her confused and disgusted glare.

Clementine yelled out for ice cream, oblivious to the awkwardness that had started to grow amongst the group.

“I can take you for some ice cream.” Daniel offered a gentle smile to the toddler, acting as if Florence wasn’t even there. But that wasn’t new.

Clementine merely sat silent and stared back, her eyes flicking between him and Cayleigh who was still wrapped up in his arms. Clementine looked up to Jack who sat beside her and then to Zach who was on her other side, both waiting for her answer. Her response was simple, her little hands wiggling into their hands, whispering a barely audible, “No thank you” to Daniel.

Jack kept his composure the best he could as he got to his feet, but Zach couldn’t hold in his laughter, trying to smother it with his free hand as the toddler led the two of them down the beach towards the ice cream shop. Daniel was left in a state of surprise. Since when did Clementine not want to be with him?

The remainder of the group erupted into fits of laughter, Daniel, Cayleigh, and Florence being the only ones not laughing.

“Bro, you just got rejected!” Corbyn said. “Brutal!”

“What did I do?” Daniel frowned.

“I don’t know but you got beat by Zach.” Aidan snorted. Laughter rose again. Florence couldn’t help but crack a smile herself, the absolute ruthlessness of her daughter making her day.

“She hasn’t gone near me all day and she hardly looks at me now.” Daniel mumbled sadly.

Florence couldn’t hold back her eye roll at how familiar that sounded to her. The hypocrisy was unmatched.

But even still, the evening progressed, Daniel playing a few songs on his guitar as the sun set. It was the perfect summer weather and the light breeze kept the humidity bearable. Florence found herself distracted, though, her mood falling fast and all she wanted to do was go home. Maybe it was the tiring day or the stress on her mind or the fact that Daniel was still avoiding her like the plague but still found it in his heart to sing the song Clementine, the song that meant way too much to her and had way too many memories attached to it. Whatever it was, Florence could feel herself start to tear up. Emilio noticed her change from beside her and he set a hand on her thigh, leaning in to quietly ask if she was okay. The gentle shake of her head was enough and he slowly got to his feet and helped her up.

“Where are you going?” Jonah asked quietly.

“Home.” Florence whispered, her voice shaking as she tried to keep her emotions calm. Grayson stood up and joined them who had Clementine asleep in his arms. The toddler still had chocolate ice cream smeared across her face and down her shirt.

Daniel still played on, not even looking up, reaching the chorus of the old folk song that he used to sing to Clementine when she was a baby. The song that was her namesake.

Callum got up as well, as if preparing to leave with her, but Florence sopped him. “Stay here with Aidan.”

“I…I don’t have to. I can come home with you.” Callum mumbled.

“Stay. Please.” Florence assured him, giving him a gentle nudge back to Aidan who was watching them with concern etched in his features. Callum simply nodded and sat back down. The boys and Cayleigh said their goodbyes, all except for Daniel who’s consistent singing was much quieter but still going. He was focussed on the sand, his fingers plucking away at the strings of his guitar, filling the warm air with pitch perfect notes. Florence took one last look at him before they headed off.

Grayson was the only one who had driven to the beach and he carried sleeping Clementine across the sand towards the parking lot, Florence and Emilio following behind him with the stroller and their bags. They were silent as the sleeping children were buckled in and Emilio squished between them to give Florence the passenger seat. She tried to keep her mind busy as Grayson drove towards the highway, staring out the window as the city lights zoomed past. Daniel’s gentle voice played in her mind, thinking back to the first few weeks of being a new mom when Matt would be out partying and Daniel would come over with his guitar to help get the baby to sleep. It brought her back to late nights in the last month of pregnancy, how every time she couldn’t sleep or was worried about the future, Daniel would be there with her, singing softly to relax her. The song Clementine. Her daughter’s namesake, and as such, the song that at one time pushed the two best friends closer than ever. She simply felt so alone.

The small sob that fell from her trembling lips surprised her and Florence pressed a hand to her mouth to quiet herself down. Emilio leaned forward and set a comforting hand on her arm, glancing at Grayson’s concerned expression through the rear-view mirror.

“It’s okay.” Emilio whispered, running his thumb in little circles over he exposed skin.

Florence simply shook her head, holding her face in her hands as she cried.

“What’s going on, Flora?” Grayson asked quietly, his right hand falling to her thigh.

“That song.” Florence sniffled. “He…He fucking sang it on purpose. That was my song.”

“Clementine?” Emilio questioned. 

Florence nodded, wiping her cheeks with the side of her hand. “He knows how much that song means to me and what it holds and he just…he just had to sing that.”

“I don’t think he did it on purpose.” Grayson said slowly, not wanting to say the wrong thing.

“If he can’t even look at me, then he can’t sing my daughter’s song. My song.” Florence pressed a finger against her chest to make her point. 

“I’m sorry.” Emilio breathed, his heart aching at constantly seeing how much she was going through in so many aspects of her life.

“Things were looking better between us. I don’t know what I did wrong.” Florence cried.

Grayson and Emilio glanced at each other again and sighed quietly almost in unison. They knew since the truth came to the surface that Daniel would find a way to screw everything up.

[dothwrites]

spn advent calendar--advent wreath

Established Dean/Castiel, Castiel & Gabriel friendship

{Read on Ao3}

It’s been a long day. It was a long day at 9am when his students came into class, it was a long day at 11am when students started to trickle into his office hours, complaining of misunderstandings and mishaps and begging for extensions for final papers. By 3pm, it was an excruciatingly long day, and now, at 6pm, it’s an unbearably long day. All Castiel wants is to lie down on his couch, put his feet up, and pass out for the next 12 hours. 

That’s his plan as his key turns in the lock. That’s his plan when he opens the door.

His plan changes when he takes two steps into his living room. 

Problem #1--There is a light on. He, being the environmentally responsible citizen that he is, turned all lights off this morning before he left. 

Problem #2--His entire living room reeks of whiskey. Not the cheap stuff either. This is the good, thirty year stuff that he shares with Dean on special occasions, or when he really, really wants to get lucky. 

Problem #3--His stereo system is currently playing godawful Christmas pop at a decibel level that’s not quite deafening but certainly isn’t quiet either. 

Problem #4--The biggest problem of all, and most likely the cause of all the other, lesser problems, sits on his couch. 

Well, sits is a generous verb. The problem is more slumped on his couch. Maybe poured into his couch. 

“Gabriel?” Cas asks, blinking hard just in case this is a nightmare. When he opens his eyes again, Gabriel is still there. Still on his couch. Still listening to Christmas music. Still drinking his expensive whiskey. Still in his house. 

“Castiel,” Gabriel slurs. His hazy eyes focus on Castiel with a form of manic glee. “You’re home.”

“Yes,” Castiel says, gingerly setting his bag down. “Yes I am. The question remains, however, as to why you’re in my house.” He pauses to consider what he should have considered before. “Did you break in?” 

Gabriel pushes himself up into something resembling a seated position. “You keep your spare key in a fake rock outside your house. I’m surprised that you’re not robbed every weekend.” 

Now for the million dollar question--”Why are you here?” 

Gabriel slumps back into the couch. “Man can’t visit his favorite cousin?”

“Not generally speaking, no.” Castiel leans against the wall and folds his arms. “Considering that we speak about twice a year.” 

Gabriel goes even more boneless. If he tried a little bit harder, he could possibly become one with the couch. “Kali broke up with me.” He says the latter with depressing finality. 

“I thought she did that two years ago.” 

“That wasn’t for real.”

“Then how do you know that this one is? Maybe if you give her some time then she’ll do the same this time.” 

“No, this time she’s serious.” Gabriel buries his face into the arm of the couch. “She packed up all my stuff. She threw away all of my food. She gave me back my pendant.” He produces a small, shining red pendant and holds it in front of Castiel like a talisman. 

“Is that the one that has your blood in it?” Castiel’s nose wrinkles in disgust. “Your girlfriend is weird.” 

“Ex-girlfriend,” Gabriel moans, tucking the pendant close to his chest. “I’m homeless, helpless. I have no one else to turn to.” 

“You have three vacation houses. Didn’t you used to own a yacht?”

“It’s all meaningless. None of it’s worth anything without her. Life is pointless if you don’t have someone to share it with.” Gabriel lurches up, hands flailing towards Castiel. He manages to latch onto Castiel’s wrist and tugs him close enough that his boozy breath hits Castiel like an alcoholic slap to the face. Gabriel asks his question with world-ending intensity; his eyes locked onto Castiel’s.“You’re still with Dean, right?”

Castiel nods and Gabriel sags in relief. “Don’t ever let him go,” Gabriel says, slumping forward into a weird embrace. 

Castiel thinks about Dean’s delight at their shopping yesterday and the meatballs that he made when they got back home. He thinks about how, after they’d finished washing the dishes, he and Dean curled up together on the couch, tucked under one of Dean’s blankets, Dean’s fingers rubbing at the tense spots on the back of his neck. He remembers the soft kiss Dean pressed to his temple and the soft whisper of I love you murmured into his hair. 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Castiel answers. 

A gentle push sends Gabriel sprawling back on his couch. Gabriel moans and throws his arm up over his eyes. “So can I call you a cab? Maybe your driver? Get them to take you back to one of your multiple residences?”

Gabriel yanks his arm away from his face. His expression is a mixture of offended and horrified. “Castiel, how can you say such a thing? Christmas is for family. I’m spending the holidays with you.”

Castiel searches Gabriel’s face for any hint of a joke. He finds none. Gabriel is dead serious and Castiel knows, from harsh experience, that once Gabriel’s mind is set on something, it’s easier to change the position of the stars. 

“You and me all through the holidays!” Gabriel fishes under his butt and comes out with a rumpled looking wreath and four candles, one of which is broken. “I brought you an advent wreath.”

Castiel takes the fake plastic evergreen and tries to bend it back into shape. “I’m not even Catholic,” he murmurs. He looks up just in time to see Gabriel fall asleep.

Castiel waits a moment before he hooks the wreath around his elbow and fishes his phone out from his back pocket. He glances at Gabriel, who is attractively drooling onto his upholstery. 

We have a problem, he sends to Dean. 

---

Tagging: @screamatthescreen @queenvee08 @dizzypinwheel @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @homeriics. If you want to be added or removed, just shout at me! <3

[harryandmolly]

i could write it better than you ever felt it - four

summary: fuck growing up. this is freedom, this is life, this is youth – 2007 Warped Tour style.

warnings: Language, Shawn as a Pained Puppy, a challenge

word count: 2.7k

Shawn wakes up hard.

This isn’t, like, new or anything. He’s 19. It doesn’t take much.

But he wakes up hard because he’s pretty sure he was dreaming about her.

He keeps his eyes shut, fighting to revel in it a little longer. He doesn’t remember the dream, just the feeling it gave him. She was so… warm. And smelled so nice. And her cunt felt so fucking good.

It takes him a good few minutes to remember that she was there when he fell asleep. She should be there, lying against his chest, smelling like citrus. But he runs his hands down his chest and realizes all of a sudden he’s a little cold.

He goes to sit up and whacks his head on the roof of the van. He whimpers and scrunches his nose, shaking out his curls. He looks around. A dense, cool blue fog surrounds the bus. It’s early morning. They’ll be leaving for Mountain View soon.

There’s no trace of her.

Shawn ducks his head shyly, though no one’s watching him. He’s in a van with half a dozen other men, but he feels startlingly alone.

He sniffs and tries to run through the facts in his hungover head. They were both really drunk. He’s actually struggling to come up with any details of their encounter. Maybe she’s embarrassed. Bus call is probably soon. Maybe she happened to wake up and left without wanting to wake him. Maybe she’s going to text him.

Shawn pulls his blanket out from under the bench and drapes it over him, trying to reconcile. He also tries to remember as much as he can muster about her. It feels a little cruel to have a memory like this, like her, taken away by cheap liquor. He swallows the dryness in his throat and slams his eyes shut, willing himself to imagine what it must’ve been like to make drunken love to Val Moreno.

+

What a fucking disaster.

Val wakes up again after 9am with tears of frustration in her eyes. She waves them off as a product of shitty sleep. She rucks her blanket up her chest and scrunches her hands in it, squeezing her eyes shut.

Flashes of the night before stomp through her mind, unwarranted, unwelcome. She heaves a sigh and sits up carefully, maneuvering out of her bunk. She wobbles, groans, and goes in search of coffee.

Greg and Tommy, Streets’ bassist and lead guitar (respectively), men she’s known since she was a teenager, watch her suspiciously as she spills out of the bunk area.

“There she is,” Greg coos, sickly sweet. She sneers.

“Fuck off.”

“You did that last night,” Tommy hums, reaching his hand out to Greg for a fist bump. She flips them both the bird and turns to the coffee maker, sweeping her hair over one shoulder as she prepares a fresh pot.

“Oh, Val,” Greg chuckles. His sincerity startles her. She looks up.

“What?”

“Your neck, dude. He mauled you.”

Val’s eyes go wide. She clamps a hand around her neck while the boys look away. She scrambles to the bathroom and throws the door open to inspect herself in the mirror.

Horror.

She expected her eyeliner would be runny and her hair would be greasy. She thought maybe she had a hickey on her neck from the way the boys looked at her.

It’s not… a hickey. It’s several hickeys. On both sides of her neck. Jesus Christ. He really did maul her.

She plants her hands on either side of the sink and slumps forward, shaking her head at her reflection. The marks portray an experience Val didn’t really have. They make it look like she was fucked well and thoroughly by someone who knew his way around.

She wasn’t.

Val licks her lips and reaches for her toothbrush. As she scrubs, she lets herself reflect.

It doesn’t actually really shock her that Shawn wasn’t any good in bed. Boys like that don’t have to be.

He’s a lead singer. Forefront might not mean much yet but they got onto Warped which means they have a good few fans, which means they have groupies. Plus, he’s tall and wildly good looking. He never had to be good to get girls to keep coming back.

Not that she knows he’s like that. She knows as well as anyone that despite her assumptions, there are plenty of front men on Warped that are secretly not very well experienced. Perhaps Shawn is one of those. That’s more forgivable to Val. That has potential. A man who’s slept around a lot and never bothered to learn… that’s another matter.

Val spits into the sink. The truth is, she doesn’t know which category Shawn falls into and she finds that… it bothers her. A piece of her she hasn’t seen in a while wants there to be a good reason he couldn’t get her off. She’s not well acquainted with this piece anymore. She shoves it off and spits again, willing herself to stop thinking about it.

Mountain View is beautiful but hot, much like the rest of California. Val roasts underneath the merch tent, handing off cheap tees to teenage girls and big burly twenty-something men who she wouldn’t want to meet in a wall of death. She’s hit a lull and is fanning herself with a folded up paper fan made of a Glamour Kills tent flyer when she cues into a conversation happening nearby.

“… and you’re talking about him like he’s some dude at school. He’s a lead singer, Cass. You’re not gonna fuck Shawn Mendes.”

Val perks up. She leans back in her lawn chair, listening to the crowing of the valley girls behind her.

“He might as well be. You know I heard from that girl Tasha on MySpace that he fucked two of her friends when they were on the Greener Pastures Tour last summer. And then Emily from The Hustler Club message board says she sent him nudes. He’s not, like, an angel. Plus, I’ve been laying ground work. This is our third day in a row coming to their set. And we totally locked eyes yesterday when he was singing “Not Your Story.””

Val sits forward as the girls’ voices fade out. She sips at her Diet Coke and nods to herself. Well that answers that.

+

Shawn has a plan.

He’s not going to go seek her out, cause that’s, like, weird. But Warped isn’t that big a tour. He can put himself in her way without too much trouble.

For one thing, the way the tents are arranged today, the Smartpunk stage is directly across from the Streets merch tent. When they go on at 3pm, he and his band will be playing to approximately 19 people and her.

But to hedge his bets, he’s been… around. Conspicuous, even.

He went and grabbed a water when she did. He was hanging around talking to the Set Your Goals guys when she walked past to get lunch. He even went to go talk to Bea in the hopes of catching her around the NFG merch tent, which he did. And that was when he saw her make a beeline for the NFG bus like it was the save point in a video game he didn’t know they were playing.

That was admittedly disheartening. Not that he was feeling great about the way things went. He had been hoping for a text or a drop in at the van or something to explain. But she really is just… avoiding him.

He kinda hates that.

He thinks about it more at the barbecue that night. He thinks about the way he sang his songs to her earlier that afternoon, staring at her, waiting for her to look up and acknowledge him. She may as well have been wearing noise cancelling headphones for all the attention she paid him. So he drinks beer and sits with his friends on old metal bleachers and thinks about Val Moreno, again wishing he had more pieces of her in his memory from their night together. He doesn’t think he’s going to get any more.

Val is by the coolers, searching on her hands and knees for a Corona buried beneath all the Bud Light. She swears she saw some. She’s padding around in the dirt when a very large pair of all black leather high top Chucks stop by her right hand. She inhales sharply. She looks up.

He looks as much like a kicked puppy as a 6’2” 19-year-old man boy can look. She winces.

“Hi, Shawn.”

“Hi, Val,” he replies. His voice is dry. He’s a little tipsy.

She tips back off her hands and brushes them off on the legs of her jeans. He reaches down, offers her a hand. With a resigned sigh, she takes it and lets him help her stand.

She regards him suspiciously and with wandering, guilty eyes. He just stares at her like he’s waiting for her to say something.

Finally, when she’s silent for a few too many seconds, he huffs. “I didn’t—I didn’t realize you were going to leave.”

Ouch.

Val’s jaw drops open. “I…”

“I mean,” he interrupts, his voice a little too loud, his hand stroking the back of his neck as he looks over her head, “I mean, like, whatever, I guess you don’t owe me shit. I just thought… I dunno… the other night was fun. The night we were kissing. I didn’t… I didn’t realize you were just going to leave.”

Val internally groans and stomps her feet, desperate to get out of this somehow. “Shawn, listen, I just… it was just one night, right?”

“That’s the thing!” he croaks, his eyes bright as he looks into hers, “It wasn’t. It wasn’t just the one night. And you weren’t… I dunno, you weren’t acting like it was the kinda thing you were just gonna leave in the morning. I know we were drunk, was that it? Are you upset because we were wasted?”

“No,” Val sighs.

“No,” Shawn repeats with a nod. He looks thoughtful, “Well, were you trying to get back for bus call then?”

Val opens her mouth, hesitates, and shuts it. Shawn flattens his lips, looking like a disappointed babysitter. She feels a little indignant for a moment. Then she remembers how hurt he’s looked all day when she pretended not to notice him putting himself in her path.

Shawn licks his lips. “Guess you just wanted an orgasm then. That’s fine. You got what you came for.”

He turns and starts to walk away, still rubbing the back of his neck. Val’s lips purse. Without her consent, she hears herself speak.

“I didn’t actually.”

What. The. Fuck.

He turns and lifts his eyebrows. He walks back over to her, hands in his pockets, ready to listen.

“You didn’t what?”

The words hurt coming out. “I didn’t orgasm.”

Shawn’s entire demeanor changes. He hunches a little, looking shorter. His cheeks get pinker, his eyes get lighter. If she thought he looked like a kicked puppy before, he looks like a betrayed cherub now. He blinks quickly, trying to understand.

“What—what do you mean?”

“I faked it,” she whispers, crossing an arm over her stomach and sucking on her top row of teeth, head hung in shame. When she dares to look up at him, he looks like he’d rather melt into the floor.

“Oh… I didn’t… I mean… oh.”

Val knows which category he belongs in now. No asshole loser pleasure-ignoring lead singer type would react this way if faced with the idea that he didn’t make someone come. No. This is inexperience. It’s written all over him.

“I’m… sorry,” Shawn murmurs. Val’s heart aches.

“It’s ok. I mean, it wasn’t… like, we were drunk, it wasn’t a big deal,” she reasons.

He doesn’t seem to see it that way. He shakes his head, like he’s going through his mental rolodex of women he’s slept with and trying to riddle out how many of them have lied to him.

“Shawn, it’s ok,” she tries, stepping forward a little. He looks at her, pained and embarrassed.

“Maybe it is because we were drunk,” she suggests, sounding hopeful. Shawn sniffs and nods at his shoes. After a moment, he looks up again. There’s something different in his eyes.

“Can I try again?”

Val is dumbstruck. “What?”

“If you’re up for it, I’d like to try again. I want to make you come.”

The noise in Val’s throat is totally involuntary and makes his lips twitch into a smile. It gives her away. She also feels a rush of wetness in the crotch of her panties, so her body certainly knows what it wants.

Val swallows. “I… really?”

Shawn looks almost annoyed. She blinks.

“Yes. Please. I want to.”

Val groans from the back of her throat. “I mean… ok. Yeah. I guess.”

Her agreement isn’t exactly filled with enthusiasm. Shawn doesn’t take it personally. He dips his head, chuckles and kicks a shoe at a patch of grass below him. He looks up at her from under his eyelashes and she sighs.

“Are you seducing me, Mendes?”

He shrugs one big, powerful shoulder. “Is it working?” He smirks.

Yep.

Her lips twitch. “It’s inappropriate for me to make a joke now about you needing to work a little harder.”

Shawn’s jaw drops. Val smiles. She takes a step into his imposing form and presses a hand to his lower back, lifting onto her toes so when she speaks, her lips graze his earlobe.

“You ready for round 3?”

Taglist: @smallerinfinities @the-claire-bitch-project @stillinskislydia @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn​ @alone-in-madness​ @alone-in-madness @singanddreamanyway @accioalena @randi-eve @shawnitsmutual

[purplerain85]

I Love You

PAIRING: Alex Skarsgård x You (Reader)

WORDS: 3997

WARNINGS: Swearing, Hateful comments (not sure how to explain that part), Smut.

SUMMARY: Dating Alex and you two have a date night and the paps photograph you two, and some of his “fans” make some hate full comments about your weight and you have a whole day of self doubt and your worth to Alex.

A/N: I got this idea from an ask that @rae-of-sinshine (I hope you don’t mind that I wrote this) All typos are my mistakes.

 @rae-of-sinshine @ohh-la-la-leto @laketaj24 @loey-bae @evenwhen-ihadnothing @sideeffectsofyou @thosekidswhohuntmonsters @kyber-hearts-and-stardust-souls @just-another-fangirl-94 @sploodgebucketlu

Alex and you had been dating for just over two years, you two were introduced by mutual friend Anna, when she was talking about you to Alex he had said he wanted to meet you, Anna had than mentioned that if she did and you two hit it off, that he had to promise not to toy around with you as you don’t date much since you had your daughter 3 years ago, and you didn’t want guys coming and going.  He promised that he would not play games with you as long as you didn’t either.

When you finally agreed to go on a date with him, you two were inseparable and you made him wait 6 months before you introduced him to your daughter Ursula, you wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to run off, although when you had decided to introduced them you didn’t know for 100% that he wouldn’t but you had a pretty good idea that he wouldn’t.  The night that they finally met, you invited Alex over for dinner, the two of them hit off just the much as you two did, things had gone so well that night that it was the first time that Alex had stayed the night which was also the first time you two had sex and also the same time you realized that you Loved Alex.

Two years later you and your daughter were living with Alex, and some how you two managed to keep your daughter out of the lime light let alone let the world know that you had a child from a previous relationship, you enjoyed the fact that no-one other than his family and close friends knew about her.  It wasn’t that you didn’t want his fans to know about her, but she was your daughter and you and Alex had discussed it and you two agreed and decided to keep her protected as long as you could.  Although it still surprised you that no-one had found out about her.

Tonight, was date night for Alex and you, Alex’s dad and step mom had taken Ursula for the night, which was great which meant they would pick her up right after school, so you didn’t have to rush from work to her school to home and than to Stellan’s .  It also meant that you two could be as loud as you could and not worry about waking her up…… although you tried not to be loud, sex with Alex was like nothing you ever experienced with ex-boyfriends, he always left you satisfied.

Alex had taken you to a place that taught people how to cook different things (not that either of you couldn’t cook) and once you were done you got to cook what you had made which you thought was great and you two had so much fun. Than you two walked around Central Park for a little bit until about 9, then he took you to another park that showed old Black and White movies and he knew how much you loved Black and White movies and tonight’s movie was The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, which you had told him you saw for the first time when you were 13 and it made you fall in love with B&W movies.  You two had a great evening and were so caught up in each other that neither noticed that some people were taking your photos….. But you did the next day.

The following morning was Saturday and you had the day off you didn’t to pick Ursula up tell tomorrow afternoon as Stellan and his wife took the kids out of the City for the weekend.  Alex had to do some filming for the day, so you had the whole day to yourself.  You slept in tell about 9:30 and when you woke up you had a couple emails and about 15 text messages from Anna, which was unusual as the last time you got that many texts from her was when it was discovered that you and Alex were dating, you two had been photographed so much since than that you didn’t even care anymore.

Her first text at 7:00 told you to call her, her next one at 7:15 said do not go on the internet until you call me! Please!, you didn’t even read the rest, you did the exact opposite of what she said because your fear was that someone had photographed Ursula, what you found was worse so much worse, that having her photographed would have been nothing compared to what you read.  

”ALEX SKARSGÅRD AND FAT GIRLFRIEND: Y/N was seen last night out with Alex for what seemed to be a date night, the 34 yr. old bookkeeper and the 44yr old actor have been dating for about 2 years but it seems like Y/N has decided to let herself go and put on weight, she has never been as small as Alex is but it seems like he can have any woman in the world why choose to date someone who doesn’t want to watch her weight.”

You could not believe what you were reading l mean sure you struggled with your weight since you had your daughter 5 years ago, Ursula was 2 when you found out that you had a thyroid problem and had to be put on medication and yeah you yoyoed with your weight but Alex had never complained in fact he seemed to love the “love handles” that you had and never said anything about your weight…. Not that he ever would as you knew he was raised better than that and he really didn’t have death wish.

You sat there in bed for couple minutes reading and re-reading the article, thinking that you were not fat God you were between a size 10-12, then you made the mistake of reading the comments.

-I cannot believe Alex is dating someone so fat! I mean come on, lose some weight or go back t the sea.

-Man, he has to be dating her for her personality, or she has a golden pussy, because he is clearly not dating her for her body or for her beauty (which she is not)

-As a long time, Fan of Alex, and as a fan l am telling you to dump her fat ass and date someone who is better than her.

-Seriously what does this Amazing specimen of man see in this beluga of a woman.

You ended up shutting your phone off because you could not handle reading anymore comments, you curled up into a ball and cried for what seemed like hours, you couldn’t understand why his fans where making such hatful comments, you knew some of them weren’t happy he was dating someone, but they had never been rude to you nor have they made such hurtful comments you eventual fell asleep again, and woke up around 3pm Alex wouldn’t be home for at least another 3 hours.  You managed to get out of bed and wanted something to eat but could only bring yourself to make two slices of peanut butter toast, even that you had to force yourself to eat, even though you were starving all you could think of was the hurtful comments.  You decided to take a hot shower as you stood under the hot water tears started to form in your eyes again, you thought to yourself “maybe l am fat?” “maybe Alex does deserve to be with someone who is not as big as me?” “maybe l should lose some weight” all these thoughts just seemed to make you feel crazy and very, very self-conscious.  When the water got ice cold you decided it was time to get out of the shower you found some of the baggiest clothes you could find, one of Alex’s over-sized hoodies and a pair of baggy pj bottoms that you hadn’t worn in years and wrapped yourself in a huge blanket.

Alex arrived at home and you were sitting in the livingroom when he came in and asked you why you never responded to any of his or Anna’s text messages, you said bluntly “I turned my phone off hours ago”, which made him look at you and that was when he realized that your eyes were swollen, which made him panic as he thought something happened to Ursula or something, he leaned down and looked at you and asked what was wrong?  You “we were photographed last night, and the published the photos this morning and l look ugly and fat!” Alex “You are not Ugly nor are you Fat!” You “well your so-called Fucking fans think that l am fat as a whale and fucking ugly! And they also think that you can do better than me!”

before Alex could say anything else you got up from the couch and stormed off to the bedroom, you hadn’t even realized that Alex was right behind you tell he said “I don’t give two fucks what these “fans” have to say about you! I love you for you, I think you are gorgeous, I think your body is fucking amazing and it also did an amazing thing by bring Ursula into this world, I have seen pictures of you before you got pregnant and to be honest l love this body that you have hidden under this blanket more than how it was! I love your caring heart and how you treat everyone you met with so much respect, I love you for how you interact with my fans and how you raise your daughter and l love your big personality, l love how most of the time you like your body and the confidence that you have about yourself and l love You! For You!” and l am going show you tonight and every night that l am home how much l love your body and you!”

Alex had your face between his hands while he was talking to you and telling you what he loved about you, and you started to cry again (although you weren’t sure where or how you were able to still form tears. He went to kiss you and you pulled away and told him you where not good enough for him.  But he wouldn’t take no for an answer “if anyone is not good enough it’s me who is not good enough for you, I am gone a lot and l hate seeing you like this” before you could respond to him he kissed you.

The moment his lips touched yours you melted into him, he gradually moved his hands from your jaw, down your neck to wear the start of the blanket and he slowly pulled it from your body, just that little bit of movement you felt your arousal starting between your legs, Alex moved his hand slowly down your arms and moved to your hips where he gripped them and pulled you closer to him as he deepend the kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck and placed one hand at his hair line and gently ran your fingers up and down, which made Alex moan into the kiss and his grip get tighter which cause your to moan. You pulled away from the kiss first and you two placed your foreheads together and breathed together.

Alex moved his hands under the hoodie you had on and softly said “l Love you, Y/N! I would move heaven and earth to make the pain you are feeling about yourself go away!  But l will settle for showing you how much l love you and tell you everything l love about your body” his hands moved up your body as he was talking to you, when he got to your shoulder blades he got you to raise your arms and he took the sweater off and kissed you again, and he took your breasts in his hands and messaged them and ran his hands over your nipples and slightly pulled away from the kiss and said l love how these amazing breasts just fit perfectly into my hands, they are perfect size, he kisses you again, and moves to your special part of your neck right where your jaw and bottom of your ear meet and he sucked, you moan “Alex”.

He moved you one to the bed and kissed your collarbone down to your breasts and took your right nipple into his mouth and nipped and sucked and swirled his tongue around the harden nipple while his left hand gripped and pinched your left nipple, and as he was moving to the left nipple he said “l love how your nipples react to my touch, and how l can feel them harden even more on my tongue” all you could do was moan in response.  He then kissed your navel and sat up on his knees and looked at you as his fingers went into the top of your pj bottoms, he could see the lust in your eye and the love you had for him and you could see the same in his eyes, as he pulled you bottoms off.

Alex lifted your left leg and kissed and nipped at your calf up to you knee and than pulled up your right leg and did the same and when he got to you thighs he told you that he loved how thick your thighs were and how amazing they felt around his head when his head was buried between them and wrapped around his waist and how great they felt when you rode him into ecstasy, than he kissed and licked each of your stretch marks and said he loved the feel of them. You responded to him “Please Alex, l get that you love my body, just please!”  he told you “No, l told you l would show you what l love about your body and l am going to do just that!” than he ran his stubble chin over your folds and it made you jump and cry out in pleasure.

Alex kissed your left hip and bit it and then licked across to your right hip and bit it as well and than he kissed up your stomach and said “love your stomach and l love these three little tiger marks right here, and l love these lovely love handles of yours, l love that l can grab hold of you and l can hold onto you when you ride my like your life depends on it, God l love it when you ride me!” Alex continued to kiss you your body back up to your mouth and kissed you and grinded his jean covered hard-on against your wet core. Again, you moaned “Alex please, l need to feel you”.

Alex moved his weight to his right arm as his left hand made it way down to your wet pussy and he slipped one finger between your fold and gathered some of your juices on his finger and ran his finger over your clit, you moaned and as he continued to kiss you he said how he loved how your pussy felt he then slipped two fingers into you and slowly moved them in and out of you and rubbed his thumb over your clit every now and then he would curl his fingers and hit your G-Spot just right and you would hum against his mouth gradually he speed up his fingers to the point he was thrusting his fingers out at a fast pace and kept them curled and pulled away so he could watch come to your first orgasm of the night, you had a tight grip on his right arm and the back of his neck, when you orgasmed you called out “Oh God Alex!”

Alex pulled his fingers from you and was about to put his fingers in his mouth when you grabbed his wrist and look him in the face as you moaned around his fingers and sucked them clean which cause Alex to close his eyes and moaned, when he pulled his fingers from your mouth his kissed you hard and thrusted his tongue into your mouth and moaned at the taste you. He got up from the bed and removed his clothes and your mouth watered at the sight of his erection and you wanted to taste him so bad and suck him Alex saw the look in your eyes and said “not tonight darling its all about you and my pleasure will come when l make you cum for the last time around my cock” Alex kissed your thigh again and made his way to your pussy and your know that you had at least two more orgasms coming, and just as you were think at the joy of what you were going to have you felt his tongue slip between your folds as he swirled his tongue around your opening and which made you grind your hips against his face, he placed his right hand over your hips to keep them still. He looked at you and said l love how sweet you taste, and l could be buried between your legs for the rest of my life and die a happy man.

He brought his mouth back to your pussy and brought his tongue to your clit, and than brought his left hand to pull back your hood so he could have better access to your bundle of nerves, you were moaning so loud and basically cry out Alex’s name as you were still coming down from your last orgasm, you had one hand in his hair and pulling his hair, you other hand had a death grip on the rails of the headboard. Alex ran his teeth lightly over clit and you cried out “Fuck! Please do that again” and he obliged.

Alex than let go of your hips and put two fingers into you and moved them and a decent pace and kept working his tongue on you exposed bundle of nerves, you were so turned on you that you had to let go of Alex hair and move to the headboard with your other hand you were so sensitive that you were seconds from cumming again and then you felt it, it felt like you had you urinate and all you could get out to warn Alex was “OH Fuck! Alex l’m gon…. And then your squirted all over his fingers and wrist he pulled his head back enough to watch as he continued thrust his fingers in and out of you and he excitedly said “Fuck, Yes! Babe, good l love when you squirt all over my fingers.”  You had to pull away from him as you were so sensitive and told him you need a second. You took your second and pulled Alex into a hardened kiss you went to get him to lay down, so you could repay him for the two orgasms, but he knew what you were going to do, and pushed you back on to the bed and grinded against you.

Alex asked you if you were ready for him and you looked him in the eyes and pleaded with him to fuck you, he lined himself up and slowly pushed himself into your warmth and he had to take a minute to get adjusted to your tightness and let you get adjusted to him, you begged him to move, he pulled out slowly tell just the tip was in and slowly pushed back in and that was the pace he kept for a while as much as you loved love making with Alex, you want no you needed him to be rougher, you asked him to go faster but he just kept the same pace, and when you needed him to go faster, you tried to get him to flip over, but he grabbed your right leg and put it on his shoulder than he grabbed your left leg at the knee and pushed it into the bed and began to thrust faster and harder into you grabbed hold of his arms and begged him not to stop.

You moaned “God Alex you feel so good, and l can feel you everywhere! And you are hitting me in all the right spots” Alex “You feel so good wrapped around my cock babe, l love how you feel around me and how great you feel when you clench around me” You “Please, Alex let me ride you! Please!!!” You thought he was going to say no, but to your surprise he kissed you and let go of your legs and put one arm around your waist and one hand at the back of your neck, and rolled over on to his back, without even pulling out of you.  He put his hands on your hips and you sat up and grinded your hips back and forth and put your hands on his chest to keep your balance. *Before you started dating Alex, you were never big on riding a guy, only because they always wanted to be in charge and that meant that you were on you back or your hands and knees, which got boring even for you.*

You bounced up and down on Alex as you were coming down his length Alex would snap his hips up and you could feel him so much deeper, your fingers would scratch down his pecks and he winched in pain and pleasure. You could feel your third orgasm of the night was coming and you knew by the grip that Alex had on your hips and groans he was getting close to his end as well you began to ride him hard and faster and rolling your hips.  Alex looked you with hooded eyes “Y/N fuck you ride me so good, God l am going to cum!” he took his left hand off your hip and dipped his thumb down to your between your folds and gathered some of your juices and brought it up to you clit and rubbed tight circles and said “Babe cum for me! You need to cum all over my cock right now!” and just like that you felt Alex release in you and could feel him coat your walls, you came for the third and final time that night, you collapsed on Alex.

As you two came down from your highs you felt him wrap his arms around you and rubbing your back, you felt Alex softening inside you, but neither of you could bring yourselves to move. Eventually you brought your head up to look at him with a goofy little smile on your face and lightly kissed his lips, you pulled yourself off of him and got off of him and laid next to him and had your arm around his waste and he had his arms wrapped around you.  Alex “How are feeling now? Now do you understand that no matter what anyone says about you, l think you are the most beautiful woman ever!” You “Yes, l feel, better and l understand what you mean, and l am Thankful for everything that you do for me and Ursula. I Love you so much?” Alex “I love you too”

[trickshxt]

Carries, bridal style. 

SMACK! CRASH!

“You’re nearly as bad as I was!”

He barely hears Rich over the laughing the other’s doing. Pine needles prick his face, pressed up under his helmet somehow and he sneezes. Then sneezes again as he attempts to free his leg from a particularly wicked split branch. “Thanks for that, firefly, thanks…”

Moments later a hand frees his foot and he’s facing the world right side up. Rich just GRINS at him, brushing a pine branch from his shoulder. “I mean, I know I give you morning wood -”

Barney groans, flicking a pine needle at Rich’s nose. It hits with satisfying accuracy. “Absolutely not.”

“Awwww, c’mon, you love my sexy jokes!”

“Lemme know when you get one that’s good OR sexy.”

Rich staggers back with a hand over his heart. “Wounded. WOUNDED. The love of my life, stabbin’ me in the back like that? How could you?”

With all the drama of every free Shakespearean park production Barney’s seen in his life (and there’s been a good many of them) Rich turns with a flourish, wheezing something that Barney suspects is supposed to be a sob. It’s all drama, badly put on.

Barney barks a laugh anyway. “All right, all right! Best dick joke I’ve heard all morning.” When Rich sniffs, loudly, he amends, “Day? Week? Fine, month.”

That gets Rich turning, laughing, and Barney finds himself pulled in for a kiss. Or, well, a near kiss. Their helmets clang and Barney steps back with a groan. His consolation is seeing Rich do the same.

“Right, forgot about that,” Rich mutters. Barney snorts. (He couldn’t be more fond of a headache than he was then.) Rich just glances up at him, eyes bright. “Go again?” When Barney raises an eyebrow, Rich points to the air.

“Again,” he agrees

The sun lowers in the sky and then has lowered further still by the time they stop. He’s breathless from the effort. Endorphins high at the fact he can start and stop now - tree free since 3pm - and can accelerate enough to join Rich on a rocky ledge halfway up a mountain to watch the sunset. Their feet swing as the sky blushes to red. The helmet in his lap is starting to feel comfortable. (Something he never thought he’d say, considering what it represents.) The boots no longer as foreign and he kicks a foot to watch the yellow flash in the sun.

Rich watches from the side of his eyes and Barney catches the tell tale crinkles in them even if he misses seeing the look himself. “Gonna be a great flyer yet.”

“Eh,” he says with a click of his tongue. His shoulder bumps Rich’s though, pleased. “Gotta good teacher.” He pauses. “When he ain’t laughing at me.”

Rich’s laugh bounces. “C’mon, babe, you can’t hold that against me!”

Barney knows he never could. “Too late, holdin’ it against ya.” His arm slips around Rich’s waist and feels that heavy warmth in his chest that he’s missed. “Gonna have to make it up to me.”

A scoff meets that. “What’d’ya think all this is?”

“Investin’ in future laughing rights?” He teases. Rich snorts, though says nothing, and Barney leans in to give his neck a long, slow kiss. Tries again. “Indulgence?”

Rich is quiet for a long enough moment that Barney wonders if he’s said something wrong. Before he can ask, though, Rich turns his head and catches his mouth in a kiss. “Indulging isn’t that bad, right?”

Barney snorts. “Naw.” And kisses him again. “Not when we both like it.”

He almost wants to ask about the pause. But Rich takes his hand in his and squeezes hard. So he lets the topic drop, squeezing back. By the time the Little Dipper is high in the sky they’re both red lipped and sheepish at the over enthusiasm apparent on their skin.

***

It’s still chilly for camping, but when your better half spends most of their time away in the stars you make do with a few extra blankets. The air may sting their lungs, but Barney’s known how to build fires for decades now.

“Shoulda known my Heathfire knows how to build one,” Rich teased.

He’d laughed. “Your Heathfire knows a thing or two about survivin’.” He’d meant it as a joke, but the ping in Rich’s face reminds him of just how non-linear grief can be. He’d thrown the lighter fluid can at the Nova then, unsurprised when he’d caught it, and had grinned. “Wanna make a fireball?”

The soreness from the pine tree landing is finally fading a little as they luxuriate in the heat, stomachs full of charred hot dogs and s’mores still sticky in their mouths. He watches, eyes lidded, as Rich cackles at a mallow mound bursts into flames on a stick.

“And thus, the mallow kingdom fell,” intones Rich quite seriously.

It makes Barney smile, seeing the boyish glee in those gray eyes and the content flicker of a gold glow around a carefree form. He wishes, so badly wishes, he could capture the moment forever. Something all stardust and magic and smoky fire. He savors it here and now in a languid look from across the way, meeting Rich’s eyes with a fondness he won’t put to words.

Rich’s smile softens at him, before the marshmallow falls to a true firey end. Rich blinks and Barney laughs. “Think it got scared. Felt the gravity of it all.”

The groan that comes from Rich’s chest is absolutely worth getting jabbed with a marshmallow covered stick. “That was BAD, babe.”

“An’ yet you’re still here,” he retorts, attempting to wipe sticky sweets from his sleeve.

There’s that funny little silence again, Rich’s hands stilling with a curl of his fingers, and Barney wonders if the man even knows he’s doing it. Pausing in such dramatic fashion. He’s hesitant to point it out, considering the circumstances (his shirts are just now finally fitting Rich again). So he waits for a moment, giving him space to think.

“You-”

“I got you somethin’.”

That surprises him. He blinks, sitting up a bit as Rich scrambles to his feet and dives for their bags as if whatever he’d managed to sneak along will grow wings and take off. (For all Barney knows, it could.) He’d done most of the packing, yet somehow he hadn’t seen the jaw dropping STACK of papers that Rich is pulling from the bag now. He sits up a bit, brow furrowed, jaw dropped, as Rich brandishes the stack with a smile so pleased it’s nearly feral.

“Here!” Rich holds it out, excitement curling around his features, a clear and present thing that’s so infectious Barney finds himself smiling just beholding it.

He takes the paper with a small OOF and looks down at the first page. His brow knits. “What is it?”

Rich plops down unceremoniously behind him, arms wrapping around his chest. He can practically feel the man vibrating. “It’s Xandarian.” Rich’s chin finds his shoulder, resting there. “Xandarian’s got some of the BEST poetry in the galaxy. Like, some of the greatest lines you’ll ever read. Only problem is they don’t translate well into English and it’d take even Worldmind awhile to figure out a good translation so…I figured you could just read ‘em yourself.”

The thought put into it curls around his heart, finding the cracks left from so long ago and filling them in with gold dust and stars. His shoulders hitch in a huff and he thumbs the black ink with a softness he forgets he has sometimes. “Is this what you disappeared in the library for?”

Rich gives a satisfied giggle.

“Is this what caused the copier to explode?”

Rich winces at that. “I, uh, have no comment on that incident.” He adds quickly, “Neither does Worldmind so shut up.”

“Uh-huh.” Barney may not be able to go back to the library for a bit, but the packet in his hand is a testament of thought and care that he cherishes more than can be said for most points of his life.

With a practiced finger, he turns the page and blinks a bit. The words may be foreign but he knows poetry well. And this isn’t it. It looks more like…

Rich’s arms squeeze him, delighted. “Gonna have to learn the language first before ya read in it.”

He stares at the language spread before him. Something powerful and promising in their foreign nature. It’s less the challenge that excites him and more the fact that what he can do with it, what he will be able to understand someday that has him shivering despite the radiating warmth from the fire.

His breath comes out shaky. “I…how did ya know?”

Rich kisses his cheek, vibrating again. “Just had a feelin’.”

Barney turns then to catch him in a proper kiss, feeling Rich laugh in his mouth. The papers press between them as a hand caresses Rich’s cheek. He won’t admit to his eyes being wet, and if Rich notices he says nothing. (He’s not sure what he can ever give the man that is equal to the thought spared for him in these moments. He can only hope his actions say ‘I love you’ as much as Rich’s gifts do.)

Excitement flares in him, spreading through him like wildfire. It doesn’t dissipate, rather, it collects until he is pressing himself against Rich’s chest, hunched down with his knees up enough to cradle the thick stack of pages.

Rich’s arms settle around him, Nova Force pressing down like a weighted blanket, glowing with what Barney now knows is contentment.

“What’s this?” He asks, pointing.

“The alphabet.”

“Teach me?”

Rich’s lips smile against the back of his head. He does. They get through a few pages, hitting general phrases until ‘get up’ inspires something else entirely to do just that. And with a laugh, Rich lifts him in a bridal carry, Barney too caught up in a laugh and a gasp to do anything more then let him parade them to the tent.

They spend their last few waking hours with their hands and mouths full of other things.

***

The drive home is filled with bad country music and more pit stops then they can count. They’re dragging their feet to get back to the city and doing so by belting Jolene at the top of their lungs as they take every scenic overview drive off they find. The cab of the truck is filled with laughter. He would say it feels like old times, but it feels so distinct from that old nostalgia. Like it’s something all its own. Treasured for what it is in this moment and always will be in his memory; without compare.

They’ve hit a long stretch of open road when the radio dies and though Worldmind tries not suitable alternative is found. Rich hits the knob with a huff. “What’s the point of havin’ ya if you can’t even find some tunes?”

Barney snickers at the look that passes over Rich’s face and he feels a silent, thought high five for whatever Worldmind said is warranted.

“Only got a bit before we hit civilization again anyway,” Barney consoles. Rich just huffs. “Could stop at another truck station if ya want a refill on pop.” Rich just gives him a sideways glance and pops his lips. Barney scowls at the joke and swats at him with a hand. “Shuddup.”

They go quiet after that, pleasantly so. He whistles a bit of Jolene, the song an earworm for the next few days he’s sure. A glance in the mirror catches sight of Rich, however, looking out and looking so very far away.

It’s so similar to the moments of silence he saw this trip. With no distractions comes no excuses, and he clears his throat. “Everythin’ all right, firefly?”

Rich startles a bit, a hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly after a moment. “Oh, uh, yeah. Just thinkin’ I guess.”

Barney raises an eyebrow, hums, “Yeah?”

They’ve never pushed each other when it wasn’t necessary. Some thoughts can’t be shared, can’t be uttered into the air just then. It’s an unsaid boundary they’ve respected from the beginning, and Barney is ready to respect it now should the topic be dropped.

He admits, he’s a little surprised when Richard speaks, “I gotta go back, eventually.”

His heart drops, though the fact remains they’ve both known since Rich fell to the streets of New York. No matter what space does - will do - to the man, Nova Prime always, always responds. “I know.”

(He misses him already, just thinking about it. Another two years is worth the wait, but oh the weight it does add.)

Rich gives him a sad smile, a hand reaching over to squeeze his thigh. “Gonna try not to make it another two years before I’m back.”

Barney appreciates the reassurance, even if there’s no promise there. (He wouldn’t ask for one, wouldn’t make the man give a promise he can’t keep.) “I know.” He wets his lips and glances over. “It’s all right, Richie, I get it. You know that?” He can’t quite keep the question from that.

Fortunately, Rich catches it and gives him a knowing smile. “To paraphrase a guy I know: I know.”

That breaks the tension, a laugh escaping from Barney’s throat. (He can’t remember when he’s laughed this much in years. Since before Rich came into his life with a sly, smug smile that he’s come to associate with tightness in his chest.) “Jackass.”

“Learned from the best!”

“Like you weren’t one before ya met me!”

When they pull over at the last scenic outlook before the road home, Barney beats Rich out and to his door, waiting to pull him into a dip and a kiss. The surprise on Rich’s face is worth it, particularly when he pulls back and smirks, ( passable Xandarian - hi there cutie ).

Rich’s smile is brilliant, dazzling. Charmed enough to make Barney’s toes curl. “You’re gonna be fluent before I even know what to do with ya!”

Barney presses kisses to his cheek. “That a challenge?”

“Sure,” Rich says, eyes hooded and mischievous. “You get through enough of that book before I get back next time and I’ll bring ya something special.”

Barney rolls his eyes. “Don’t need the promise of somethin’ to do that.”

Rich pauses, just enough for Barney to straighten them both. “But what if I want to?”

He remembers indulgences versus investments then and raises an eyebrow. “You been thinkin’ about somethin’, haven’t ya? You keep gettin’ these little, pauses, an’ goin’ distant.”

Caught, Rich shrugs a bit and turns away. Barney almost wonders if he shouldn’t have said anything at all. “Just…doin’ some thinking.” Barney’s breath must catch or Worldmind must say something because Rich turns back around, wide eyed and hands up. “Not that kind of thinking! Blessed One, not THAT.”

Rich catches one of Barney’s hands and traces the knuckles, careful and slow. Eyes down. Barney can practically hear the gears whirring. The Nova Force thrums. “Just…I love you. A lot. I like being with you. And…”

Rich trails, but Barney is patient, used to working without words. He watches Rich shift, consider, and finally break with a squeeze of Barney’s hand to his arm. “I want you to see where I go, meet my friends, see all the places I keep telling you about.”

He’s offered this before, asked subtly and not so discreetly. It was a while ago, when things were still new and shaky between them, and he remembers laughing it off. Barney Barton in space. Again. It hadn’t had a plausibility to it that seems far less implausible now.

Barney thinks. “What were you gonna bring back, luggage?”

At that Rich laughs. “Think about it?”

Barney nods. “I will.” And he’s careful to keep eye contact when he says that. Though he can’t help but add, “Really though, luggage?”

Rich shrugs, cheeks pink, tilting his head a bit in the way he sometimes does when Worldmind is speaking to him. Barney doesn’t ask. (If Rich wants to share he will.) But he does move in to give the Nova another kiss, teasing his lower lip with his teeth.

“Fucking luggage.”

“Hey, whatever you’re into-”

Barney shuts him up with another kiss. He won’t tell him his mind is decided for a few days yet; not until an end is closer in sight. But from the way his hand slides to Rich’s lower back, the other smoothing over borrowed shirt to curl around his neck possessively, he likes to think that Rich perhaps has an idea what the answer will be.

It can wait though.

For now, they kiss. Look at the view. Sing along to country songs they don’t know and drink bizarre pop they find stuffed in the back of a display at the gas station. And if there are any more pauses it’s the kind filled with soft looks and blissful enjoyment of company well kept.

[untilwearestarsinthesky]

Ice Skating

So I’m back! I had to take some time out, but I’m finally getting back into writing. This is for @lovelynemesis christmas writing challenge. It’s a Bucky/Reader fic, and I hope you enjoy it!

You were sitting in the living room, snuggled up under a blanket, happily watching christmas films. You had a big bowl of popcorn, Love Actually was playing, and the tower was quiet. Everyone was out shopping, or visiting family and friends. At least it was quiet, until Bucky and Steve came barrelling through the door. ‘She said yes, Buck, what the hell am I gonna do?’ Steve said, throwing his hands in the air. ‘Language,’ you said automatically, stuffing popcorn in your mouth, and laughing at the tv. Steve rolled his eyes, but Bucky let out a small chuckle. He made his way over to you, and snagged some popcorn, laughing at your outraged face. You smacked his hand away as he reached out for more, and he pouted, puppy dog eyes turned full blast, making your cheeks go pink as you blushed and looked down, unable to look him in the eye. You had a serious thing for Bucky, though he didn’t know. Steve suspected, but he hadn’t said anything to you yet. You gently proffered the bowl of popcorn, and Bucky grinned, taking a handful. ‘You’re the best, doll,’ he said, settling down next to you on the couch, his attention drawn to the tv. ‘What’s going on Steve?’ You asked, biting your lip and trying to distract yourself from Bucky. ‘I asked Sharon out and-’ ‘Finally!’ You said, clapping your hands in delight. Bucky nudged you, and leaned down to whisper in your ear, making you shiver, ‘that’s what I said!’ You giggled softly, and turned your eyes back to Steve, who was looking annoyed. ‘So, she said yes I take it?’ You asked, munching on more popcorn. ‘She did. But Y/N I need help! Where can we go? I don’t really know anywhere to take her, and I want this to be special.’ Steve asked, his cheeks tinged with pink. You smiled. ‘You know where you should take her? Ice skating! It’s always magical this time of year, and so much fun! And afterwards you can grab coffee to warm up, so it’s kind of two dates in one.’ You suggested, a smile on your face. You loved ice skating, you were pretty good too, even if you said so yourself. ‘Huh, haven’t done that since we were kids, have we bud?’ Bucky said, looking at you and then Steve. ‘Yeah, I don’t know how good I’ll be,’ Steve said, nervously rubbing the back of his head. ‘Well that’s kinda the point. It doesn’t matter, as long as you both have a good time. It’s not a competition. It’s a date, so you should have fun, flirt a little, and relax. Okay, say you fall over, what’s the worst that will happen? Sharon will laugh? Isn’t that a good thing? And who knows, Sharon could be awful too.’ You said, trying to ignore Bucky who was staring at you. Your cheeks had gone pink again, and you ducked your head trying to hide them. ‘Maybe you’re right, Y/N.’ Steve said. ‘You know any places round here?’ Bucky asked you. You nodded. ‘A few, ones an outdoor place, and it has a christmas market, and a cute little cafe, Sharon will love it. I’ll write it down for you,’ You said, handing Bucky the popcorn, and jumping up. You walked over to the kitchen, where there were post it notes and pens, and began writing down the address. Unbeknownst to you, Bucky and Steve were having a whispered argument behind your back. ‘Ask her!’ ‘Can you please just ask her for me?’ ‘Why, you were always good with the ladies?’ ‘Steve!’ You turned around, post it in hand, and Steve cleared his throat. ‘Uh, would you mind, Y/N, if you came along with Bucky? Just for the ice skating?’ Steve said hurriedly. ‘So that if it’s going terrible, I can get your advice?’ You stared at Steve. That seemed- Well, on one hand, you got to go ice skating with Bucky. On the other hand, Steve was up to something. You nodded slowly. ‘Sure. Are you gonna pick Sharon up, or do you want the address to text her?’ ‘Uh, I don’t know. What do you think?’ ‘Pick her up, it’s more gentlemanly.’ ‘Ok, so I said this Saturday, that good for you?’ ‘Uh sure, 3pm okay?’ Steve nodded. ‘Thanks, Y/N. This means a lot,’ he enveloped you in a quick hug, and you smiled. ‘No problem, Cap. Anything for a friend.’

Saturday rolled around, and you were showered, wearing a robe and staring desperately in your closet, trying to find something to wear. Sighing, you finally texted Wanda asking for help. A few seconds later, there was a knock at the door, and Wanda poked her head in. ‘You ok? You said you needed help?’ You nodded desperately. Quickly You explained the situation to her. ‘Ok, let me see what you’ve got.’ Wanda said, walking to your closet and rifling through it. ‘Ooh, this is pretty!’ Wanda held out a long sleeved red and black dress, with a roll neck collar. ‘That with tights and boots! Go, get changed!’ You took your dress from her, and grabbed some tights from your dresser. You quickly changed in your bathroom, before coming out and showing Wanda. ‘What do you think?’ You asked, nervously biting your lip. ‘Perfect, and I found these to match!’ Wanda held up a pair of knee length black boots, with a small stocky heel. You sighed in relief. Whilst heels would look good, they were not good for snow. You quickly did your make up, settling on something neutral but pretty, luckily you’d already curled your hair so it hung down your back in soft curls. You put some pretty diamond style studs in, and turned for Wanda to see. Only Wanda wasn’t alone. You jumped, exclaiming ‘Vision!’ Wanda’s eyes widened, and she turned to find Vision standing next to her. She smacked his arm gently. ‘Vis! We talked about this! Announce yourself!’ ‘Um, how should I do that?’ ‘Just cough or something! Jeez, you’ll give a girl a heart attack!’ You said, as you sat to pull on your boots. Wanda clapped her hands, and squealed. ‘You look perfect!’ ‘Miss Y/N you do look lovely, but Mr Barnes is currently pacing in the kitchen, and he looks rather nervous, as does Captain Rogers. Captain Rogers sent me to ask if you would be much longer?’ Vision said. You smiled, and gave him a quick hug. ‘I’m ready now,’ you said, pulling on your coat, and a black hat and gloves. You grabbed your bag before making your way to the kitchen. Wanda linked arms with you and whispered in your ear, ‘Bucky isn’t gonna be able to breathe when he sees you, you look beautiful!’ You smiled, and patted her hand.

‘Ok, boys, I’m ready now,’ You said, as you entered the kitchen. Both Bucky and Steve turned to look at you, and just stopped. You blushed as they stared. ‘What? Do I have something on my face,’ you asked self consciously. Both men shook their heads slowly. ‘Well that’s a relief,’ you said, smiling gently. Steve wore jeans and a dark grey flannel. ‘You clean up well, Rogers,’ you said, nudging him. Bucky though, well Bucky took your breath away. He wore dark jeans, boots, a plain black t shirt and a red flannel, left unbuttoned. He’d combed his hair, and it framed his face, falling down in dark waves, you blushed and looked down as you realised you were staring. Bucky cleared his throat, and you looked up, realising that he’d moved closer to you. ‘You look beautiful doll,’ he said, his hand moving to take yours in his warm large one. You smiled up at him, blushing furiously. ‘Thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself,’ ‘We should get going if we’re gonna pick Sharon up on time.’ Steve said. Bucky nodded, and threaded your arm through his. ‘Your carriage awaits, my lady,’ Bucky said, motioning to the door. You giggled, and followed him down to the parking garage.  

You were right, the ice rink looked magical this time of year. As you lined up to get your skates, you and Bucky chatted about what you were doing for the holidays, how much you both loved christmas dinner, and whether you’d gotten all your christmas shopping done yet. You made your way over to the ice rink, your boots laced up tight. Stepping onto the ice, you began to skate, picking up your speed, you span around, arms out, a smile on your face. Bucky hadn’t even stepped on the ice yet, he was too busy watching you. As you turned you caught his eye, blushing, you waved him over. Bucky skated over to you, a little unsteady at first. You smiled, your hands outstretched, and Bucky took hold of your hand, leading you around the ring. ‘Isn’t this magical?’ You asked. It was snowing lightly, and with the lights, and the smell of cinnamon in the air, it was like something out of a christmas film. Bucky watched you, a small smile on his face. You spent some time skating, and discreetly watching Sharon and Steve as they skated. Steve turned out to be okay, though he did fall and bring Sharon down with him at one point. You and Bucky had to skate away quickly, before Steve caught you both laughing your heads off. You and Bucky were now walking through the market, arm in arm, each with a hot chocolate. You were perusing the market stalls, as Bucky talked about his childhood christmases, and the time he and Steve had had a snowball fight indoors, because it was too cold for Steve to go out. ‘So we brought the snow indoors instead. I thought for sure we were dead when our ma’s found us. Snow everywhere, dripping wet, and pale as ice. Course we found it hilarious, our ma’s, not so much.’ You giggled, smiling up at Bucky as he finished his tale. You walked past a florist’s stall, winter roses, and christmas wreaths hanging up. Bucky stopped you, and went over to the stall holder. He had quick conversation, handed over a few bills, and the florist gave him something in return. Bucky made his way back to you, one arm behind his back. ‘Close your eyes doll,’ he instructed. You looked up at him confused. ‘Why?’ ‘Please? Can you please close your eyes, doll? For me?’ Bucky gave you a dazzling smile, and you blushed and closed your eyes. ‘Ok, hold your hand out.’ Bucky placed something in your hands, it was light, but that was all you could tell about it. ‘You can open your eyes now.’ You did, noticing Bucky looked nervous. You looked down at your hand, and your mouth dropped open in surprise. There, in your palm, was a winter rose. ‘A beautiful flower for a beautiful girl,’ Bucky said, not meeting your eyes. ‘Bucky,’ you nudged his arm gently, ‘that’s the nicest things a guy has ever done for me. Thank you.’ Bucky looked up, his cheeks were a little pink, but a small smile had made its way onto his face. ‘You like it?’ He asked. You nodded, and using a safety pin from your bag, you pinned the flower to your coat. ‘It’s beautiful thank you.’ ‘Just like you,’ Bucky said, his hand touching your cheek gently. Before you could speak, Bucky leant down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. You leaned in and kissed him back gently. ‘I’ve been waiting a long time to do that,’ Bucky said softly. ‘Well,’ you said, smiling up at him, ‘I’m glad you finally did.’ Bucky returned your smile, and cupped your cheeks with his hands, kissing you again. ‘Can I take you out for dinner? Just us?’ Bucky asked. You leaned up on your tiptoes, and kissed him again. ‘Definitely.’

Hope you like it! 

Tags: @iamskyefox @lovelynemesis

[truthofherdreams]

Of baseball bats and psychic powers (#4)

The sheets on his bed are too clean, the mattress too soft, everything too quiet. Kali can’t remember the last time she slept in a proper bed, in a proper bedroom, not some old and broken mattress thrown on the floor and only a small blanket as cover, shivering all through the night and holding her jacket close to her nose. She turns and turns in bed, unable to fall asleep when everything is too comfortable to her liking. She knows not to get used to such luxury, knows that it will be taken away from her in the morning. No way goodie-two-shoes will agree to let her crash in his bed for more than one night, and no way she is begging the policeman for shelter. Back to the van it will be, then. As always.

She grabs the Zippo on the bedside table, switches it on. It casts golden shadows on the room, stretching across the floor and on the walls. She only stares at the flame, until her eyes go blurry and her mind empty. That’s when she notices she’s not alone, not anymore. A smile stretches her lips when Jane sits next to her on the bed, her legs tucked under her. Her hair falls in wild curls around her face, her grown body dwarfed by the oversized Star Wars t-shirt she wears to sleep. She looks nothing like the girl who found Kali in a deserted warehouse, and Kali longs for the little farm girl who tilted her world upside down.

“Evening,” she says, sitting up. She snatches the Zippo close, but keeps it in her hand.

Jane smiles, that beautiful smile of hers that goes all the way up to her eyes. “Evening, sister,” she whispers. “Max is staying for the night, so I can’t be loud.”

Kali wonders who Max is. She can’t remember if Max was part of the stories Jane told her, or even if Max is a boy or a girl. Jesus, Kali hopes it’s the little redhead girl, and not one of the boys. “Sure, don’t worry,” is all she replies instead, because she has no right playing the overprotective older sister now.

Jane remains silence for long minutes after that, lost in her own thoughts. It reminds Kali of that one night they spent together in the warehouse, how small and lost she was, how silent. Just like she was silent in the laboratory, barely able to say more than two words despite Kali’s best attempts at teaching her to talk properly.

“He’s really dead?” is what she settles on after a while.

Not that it surprises Kali in the least. It is, after all, the reason why she came to Hawkins in the first place -- to let Jane know they are freed from him at last, that they will never have to look above their shoulder in dread, that he’s but a nightmare from the past. Brenner is dead, and so is Kali’s thirst for revenge and blood. “He is. I killed him myself.”

Jane licks her lips. And then, “Show me.”

No surprise there either, but Kali hesitates. Jane has seen the ugliest part of her, but still. Kali doesn’t want her sister to see her with blood on her hands, no matter how satisfying it was. She doesn’t want Jane’s opinion of her to change, or for her to look at her a different way. Still, Jane needs proof. And proof she will get.

Kali closes her eyes, focuses on the memory of that day, three weeks ago. She paints the picture as vividly as possible. A badly lit office in an old building, neon lights flickering. The sun setting on a nameless city outside the window. The cup of cold coffee on top of a stack of papers, a folder opened on a desk. The old couch in a corner, the shelves full with books on the walls. And him, behind the desk. Barely surprised to see her. Not even afraid. Just his damn fucking smirk, like she was a prey and he’s finally caught her in his trap. How wrong he had been. How stupid too, to underestimate her.

She had grabbed the cup of coffee, smashed it against the side of his head before he could even offer her a snarky greeting. Cold drops splashing her face, pieces of porcelain dropping on the floor. Him, falling out of his chair under the strength of her attack.

Her, standing over him, one foot on his chest.

“Fancy meeting you here, asshole,” she’d snarled.

“You don’t want to do this,” he’d replied.

Like he knew her better than herself. There was a time when he’d been right, when he’d almost brainwashed her into forgetting her family -- the real one, the one waiting for her in London -- and had her believe she was insane. A time when he wanted her to believe she was a bad influence on 011, and that was why they were keeping them separated now. A time when he had tracked her down the country like an animal, after weeks of planning how to escape this dreadful place.

But not anymore. “You don’t know shit about what I want,” she’d replied, her heel against his breastbone until the air escaped him in a small whimper. A sound so satisfying it’d made her smile.

“How does it feel, Brenner? To know you’ve lost. To know Jane and I will never help you with your bullshit? That we’re free to live our life, instead of being your lab rats?” He’d made for an answer, but she had just added more pressure with her heel, and grinned. “Fuck you. Fuck everything you stand for. You made our lives a living hell, but it’s over now. You’re over.”

His death had been a long, painful one. But Jane doesn’t need to see that. Instead, Kali jumps forward in time, to the moment he exhaled his last breath. She can hear Jane gasp by her side, and that is when Kali decides to stop it here, to erase everything around them until only remains the off-white walls of goodie-two-shoes’ bedroom.

“He’s dead,” Jane says.

“He’s dead,” Kali echoes. “He can’t hurt us anymore.”

Jane is shivering, her skinny arms wrapped around her waist, so Kali shifts on the bed. At first she doesn’t know if the mental connection will allow for physical contact, but Jane’s shoulder is solid against her fingers, and soon she wraps her sister in a tight hug, holds her as Jane’s tears damp her neck. Happiness and relief and sadness all at once, as her little sister crumbles in her arms. Kali pets her hair, caresses her back, whispers words of comfort. Her body is stiff against Jane’s, not used to intimacy, but she knows better than to complain. Especially when her sister needs her.

It is a long while before Jane’s frail body no longer shakes with sobs, before she sits up and rubs her eyes with the back of her hand. Her eyes are red, her nose wet, but she holds her chin high when she demands, “Show me again.”

Kali swallows with difficulty, but still she obliges.

 …

 Kali isn’t sure when she finally falls asleep, but when she opens her eyes again the sun is high in the sky and the flat is empty and silent. A drop of blood has dried under her nose, and she rubs it before she shrugs on her sweater. Goodie-two-shoes is nowhere to be found when she leaves the bedroom, which makes sense as the kitchen clocks reads way past eleven. She slept in. That’s a first.

There is a plate on the coffee table, with a dry waffle and slightly burnt bacon, a fried egg that has seen better days. Still. He got her some breakfast. Kali refuses to feel anything about it, or about the note next to it that reads ‘I’ll be back at 3pm. Don’t burn down the place.’

There is lukewarm coffee in the pot and, when she digs deep enough, Kali finds a bottle of whiskey to spike it, which helps with chewing the eggs and swallowing whatever feelings are stuck in her throat. She didn’t expect this trip to be a never-ending game of “when was the last time it happened to you?” but here is is. Wondering when was the last time anyone ever cooked breakfast to her, and coming up empty.

She finishes her book by the time her stomach starts protesting again, and finds some leftovers in the fridge that she shamelessly steals from him. He will be back in an hour, but she is already bored out of her mind, and so Kali snoops around without a care in the world.

She starts with the pictures on the fridge, smiles at Jane’s adorable grinning face in them. The same boy is by her side in each one of them, one arm thrown around her shoulders or his hand holding hers; Mike, Kali deduces. The puppy love boy, apparently turned boyfriend. The normalcy of it takes her by surprise once more. The other kids she recognises from last night. One pictures is of goodie-two-shoes with a smiling couple, a pretty brunette and a long-haired boy, both wearing graduation gowns. The ex-girlfriend, without a doubt.

Kali keeps collecting and storing pieces of information as she goes -- the almost empty fridge, the barely there furniture, the high school diploma she finds hidden behind old bills and useless papers. The hairspray in the bathroom, along with some cologne. The ratty basketball shirts in his drawers. The impressive collection of vinyls he keeps in the living room.

Nothing to her taste, mind you, but she’s still going through it by the time the front door opens. Kali purposefully doesn’t raise her head when he enters the room, but he doesn’t comment or anything and, when she finally looks up, it’s to find him leaning against the doorframe, legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded on his chest, smile on his lips. Amused.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” he tells her.

She shrugs, shameless. “I was bored.”

He shrugs too, as if accepting it as a perfectly valid excuse as to why she’s been snooping around in his stuff when he wasn’t there. Then he goes and grabs two beers, handing one to her before he opens the other and sits in the couch with a sigh. He’s ridiculous in his police uniform, the blue making him look like a moron. She doesn’t comment on it, though.

“Hopper told me to tell you…” he starts, then wrinkles his nose a little bit, as if not entirely pleased to be used that way by his boss, “than you are welcomed for diner tonight. Which means I’ll have to drive you around so. Thanks.”

“I have the van,” she replies. She doesn’t need a guy to be her driver, like she’s some kind of rich lady who can’t be bothered to do menial tasks on her own, thank you very much.

He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “So you can find the cabin again on your own?”

She opens her mouth. Thinks. Closes it. Opens it again. “Okay, fine,” she pouts.

His smile looks a little too victorious for its own good, so she makes him picture spiders crawling up his arms. He startles, and glares at her, and she smirks.

“Not funny.”

“I beg to differ.”

[gguksgalaxy]

Hot Chocolate Kisses pt. 8

Masterpost

<– Part 7 | Part 9 –> Genre: Fluff/Angst Pairing: Jongdae x Reader Wordcount: 4864 Warnings: Family issues, weight issues, swearing, cuteness overload Notes for update: 25 A/N: soft soft soft softing, this series is so nice to write but hard at the same time. i feel like i'm super repetitive and idk...

Jongdae pov

He rubbed his eyes and chuckled at how small your voice sounded. “Did Annabelle come and get you in your sleep?”

“Yah! It’s not funny.” You whined.

He looked up at you from the floor. “Listen the doll scares me I can’t protect you.” Something soft hit him in the shoulder and he jumped in the dark. “Did you just hit me with your pillow?”

You didn’t answer him. “I had a bad dream okay.”

Jongdae sat up, looking at you on the bed in the dark. The only light came from the window where the curtains weren’t fully drawn. You looked at him, big eyes and dishevelled hair. Under the blankets he could see you were curled up, maybe cold in the room. “Do you want something to drink?”

You shook your head and he sighed. He saw you shiver, and pull the covers closer, you looked cute.  

“Are you cold?” He slipped his hand under the covers where he saw yours was, finding your skin cold. “You’re cold, I’m turning up the heater.” Jongdae pulled the covers off his lap and stood up. But before he could walk away he found your fingers tightly gripping the hem of his shirt.

“Don’t.” You whispered, voice wavering.

“I’m going 5 feet away, here.” He reached around the corner to turn on the lighting, you blinked, furrowing your brow at the harshness. “You should’ve told me if you were cold.” He mumbled, as he shuffled over to the heater and turned it up a notch. When he turned around you were sitting up on the bed, his shirt slipping off one shoulder, showing your skin. Your collarbone stood out, maybe more than it should, but he wanted to touch you. Feel your skin against his, maybe press his lips there against the crook of your neck.

“Jongdae?” your soft voice pulled him our of his thoughts. “You’re staring at me.”

He blinked, watching you pull the sweater back up. “Sorry.”

“Oh, no it’s fine.” You chuckled, rubbing your eyes sleepily. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

Jongdae sat on the edge of the bed next to you, slipping his hand to yours and lacing your fingers together. “You feel a bit better?”

You nodded. “I just got really spooked by the dream, I think it was scarier than the stupid movie.” There was a soft pout on your lips as you mumbled and it made him smile.

He lent over to press his lips to your forehead. “Do you want to stay up for a bit?” he looked at the clock on the microwave, seeing it was 4am. You still seemed a little shaken, and he might’ve felt your hand tremble.

“I’m not sure if I can just sleep again.” You whispered.

“You know it’s your own fault, you made fun of me for being scared earlier.”

You stuck out your tongue and pushes him with your foot. Which he didn’t expect so he actually half tumbled of the bed, making you laugh. He glared up at you, rubbing his hip. You smiled widely and he was glad for it. Not because you were scared really, that’d pass, but because of your whole home situation. He was always happy to know he could make you smile and feel comfortable and safe around him. “Do you move a lot when you sleep?” he asked.

You frowned. “No, I actually don’t. Why?”

“Scoot.” He said, motioning for you to move over.

You shot him a look and opened your mouth. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m not going to bite you or something.” He stated

She frowned, and looked at him. “I’m…I don’t…are you-“

He shook his head. “I wasn’t insinuating anything, I’m sorry. I’ll go back to the matt.” He kinda did feel like he overstepped. Being in the same bed as you, not per say sleeping there, seemed fine to him. But to you of course it didn’t. Before he could lay down though, you pulled at his shirt again. He looked at you confused as to what you wanted, and found you scooting back towards the wall to make room for him. Something in him wanted to ask, if you were just not doing it to not upset him, but he chose against it. Maybe just taking up the offer was better. God did he worry so much when it came to you. You seemed fragile, but other times you didn’t, and he was so afraid of pushing your boundaries too far.

He climbed on, laying down opposite of you after pulling the second pillow from the ground. “What do you want to do tomorrow?”

You pursed your lips, looking at him, he felt your legs move and you scrunched your nose up in what was probably pain. “Not sure, what can we do?”

Jongdae thought about it, and it would be totally fine for him to just stay in bed all day and laze around. With your leg and all the snow it would probably be better to stay in. “I think, but I’m not sure, that I have ingredients for cookies. If not, I’ll bother Minseok to see if he has something I need.”

You nodded with a smile, “I’ve never baked cookies before.”

“There’s so much you’re missing out on.” Jongdae whispered, tone dropping. It seemed like you never had the chance to be a kid and enjoy things. Things like the zoo, or candy stores, hot chocolate and cookies. Home-made, family dinners and cozy nights under blankets with everyone watching movies.

The smile dropped from your face, and he immediately regretted his comment. Until you spoke up again. “That’s what I have you for now.”

Your comment surprised him, it made his heart reach out for you and as if he was a little school girl he almost got butterflies in his stomach.

“To make up for lost time.”

Jongdae didn’t smile, the feeling he got from this was…different and he wanted to bottle it up and store it somewhere safe. So he slipped his arm under the covers and found your waist, pulling you closer and making you gasp. You weren’t against him, but you were close enough to be in his embrace. Close enough for his to kiss your lips and see your expression is the muted dark. You were beautiful, in every which way, and he never wanted to loose you.

***

The two of you didn’t wake up until it was close to 11, meaning you didn’t have that much time left together. Yixing would be here to pick you up at 3pm, and he was already sad you had to go. Before you opened your eyes up at him from your position with your hand fisted into the material of his shirt.

He’d whispered a good morning and you had lazily smiled before yawning and stretching out comfortably. You were warm, and smelled nice, flowery, probably your shampoo or a perfume.

Both of you had slipped from the warm confines of the covers, sun streaming through the curtains. You’d shuffled into the bathroom, washing your face, taking turns taking a shower. He’d returned while drying his hair to find you sniffing the perfume bottle he’d somehow left in his closet. You scrunched up your nose and he laughed. “You don’t like the way that smells?”

You put it back down carefully. “It’s really, strong?”

“Yeah true.”

“You don’t…usually smell like that…” you mumbled under you breath and he couldn’t leave that unnoticed.

“You sniff me?” he cocked an eyebrow and you sent him a glare. “Ahh no,” Jongdae pulled your arm, hugging you and pressing his nose to your hair that was up in a bun. “You can sniff me.”

You chuckled. “You smell nice.”

Jongdae had lent you a vest to wear, something soft and warm that was way too big on you so he had to roll the sleeves. You kind of drowned in the thing but he loved it. “You really are tiny.”

You shot him an angry look, that was improving by the day, and pushed him. “I’m legit only like 4 inches shorter than you. Stop.”

“Still tiny.” He hugged you from behind and stood on his tippy toes a little to lean his chin on top of your head, swaying you from side to side. “Tiny~~.”

You suddenly swerved around to what he expected was smack him across the head but you tripped over your own leg, and he had to catch you by the wait. There was a pained look on your face, and he was instantly worried. He made you look at him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

There was a nod from you, as you stood up on your own again. “Sometimes I forget.”

He looked at you with concern, not really letting you go until he was sure you were okay. Then, you’d found something to eat from his way to empty fridge, sitting on the bed with your legs under the blankets. You pointed something out after you’d gone halfway through your little bowl of grapes. “Is that a hat?”

Jongdae turned around to look behind him. On top of his closet was a hat, not a snapback, or a baseball cap, no an actual hat. “Yes.” He said, unsure of whether you were going to like it or not.

“You wear that?”

“Yes.”

“Are you kidding me?” you chuckled, and got up from the bed, hobbling over to the accessory and taking it in your hands. “This thing is huge? You wear this? Out in public?”

He pouted. “Stop making fun of my fashion sense.”

You laughed. “I’m sorry it’s just a bit…i don’t know if it would suit you.”

Jongdae took it from you and put it back, a bit mock offended. “It was back when I used to wear my hair differently.” He put his hands in his hand and smoothed it out to the sides, creating a very effective middle part.

He watched you look at him, cocking your head to the side. “No.” You said, reaching up and ruffling his hair to get it to fall back over his forehead. “I like this better.” Jongdae watched you as you stood close to him, one of his hands on your waist to support you as you smoothed his hair out. Your fingers slid through his bangs and he felt your fingertips lightly ghost over his skin. When you were satisfied with your work you smiled and sat back on the bed, eating the last few of your grapes.

Jongdae looked at himself in the mirror, seeing you’d done a good job at fixing his hair. “So are you ready to bake something?” he asked, moving into the kitchen and opening the cupboards. “I think…i have everything?” He pulled out jars of flour and baking powder, and a small book. “These are my mom’s recipes.”

You stumbled up beside him. “So you can’t cook, but you can bake?”

He nodded. “My mom bakes a lot, but my dad’s the cook at home. I guess I was with my mom more in the early mornings when she’d make raisin breads, or sand cookies.” Jongdae took notice of how you were kind of awkwardly standing on one leg and he pulled you close to his side, arm around your waist. “Let’s see, I don’t have fruit so that’s out of the question, but I have a jar of chocolate chips somewhere. And I have peanut butter, or cinnamon. So whichever.”

With car you took the small book out of his hands and flipped it open, he mentally wanted to slap himself because his handwriting was terrible. So you probably couldn’t really read it. But you did go through the pages, seemingly fine with it.

You settled on something, actually really simple. Sand cookies. “Are these like…the crumbly sugary ones you see for christmas. But they’re also a little salty?”

He frowned, thinking of the taste of them. It’d been a while since he’d eaten any. “Yeah I think so. But we can always add more salt if you like that.”

“Well I remember eating them at Taemin’s house once like years ago at a Christmas party. So that’s why I associate them with christmas I think.”

Jongdae smiled, and leant over to kiss your temple. “Let’s get started then. Come here.” He moved you to turn, and lifted you up by your waist to set you down on the counter. You were now a little taller than him, and he leant up to kiss your lips, once, twice, till you giggled and pushed him with your feet.

It was an easy back and forward play, him handing you things to measure on the scale next to you, or having you pour milk in the measuring cup. He mixed everything, kneaded the dough on the counter while you stole a few chocolate chips from the jar.

That’s when he felt you slap his shoulder, laughing like a little kid. “What did you-?” he looked at his black shirt, now perfectly stained white with your handprint in flower. “You little.”

There was nowhere you could go, since you were on the counter, and he took the opportunity to tickle you. His fingers ghosted over your sides and you squealed, trying to push his hands away while laughing. “Stop.” You wheezed. “Yah!” But he had no mercy, until you suddenly winced in pain.

He abruptly stopped, staring at your face that was scrunched up in pain. Then he realised, his right hand had found it’s way to your leg, holding it down. He was too stunned at the sound you’d made to move until your hand wrapped around his wrist. Jongdae let you go, briefly noting how easily his hand fit over your leg since it was so thin, seemingly thinner than the left. “Shit, y/n, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, through gritted teeth you mumbled that it was okay, but he knew he’d hurt you.

“Here, wait.” He knelt down by the fridge and opened it, pulling a bag of frozen whatever out of there and wrapping it in a towel. With the most care he could give he pressed it against your leg, on the side where he knew your scar was. He though about it, how many months it had been now since it happened, and you were still in so much pain. The realisation dawned on him then, that you might indeed never walk normally again. You’d never skate again, he’d never get to see the magic that was you gliding across the ice again. He stared at his hand over the towel, afraid to look up at you.

Why couldn’t he just be careful? He should’ve thought about this, before he went and squeezed your leg like that. God your leg felt so tiny, and maybe even weak. Why’d he done that.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by you cupping his face into your small and warm hands. Your thumbs brushed his cheekbones as you pulled his face up to look at you. For a second he didn’t breath, until you leant down to press your lips against his. “It’s okay.” You whispered against his lips. He shivered, unsure of what to do. “Jongdae, it’s okay.”

You brushed a hand through his hair and looked at him. He saw the tears in the corner of your eyes, but also the soft smile and he convinced himself he should listen to you. “Sorry.”

“You didn’t mean to, it’s fine. Just…please try to watch out.”

“I will, I really will.”

“Let’s cut the cookies.” You said.

He found himself flicking his fingers into the other flour can and dusting it over your nose.

“Hey!” you called, kicking his but with your good foot.

He stuck out his tongue while he started to roll the dough into a bar to cut it. You watched him, munching on a few more chocolates. This was comfortable and nice, and he enjoyed being with you. It was easy, even though he messed up sometimes. Your presence calmed him in a way, made him feel at ease. He wish you could be here more often, and he really did miss you when you were gone. For a moment he’d thought he’d never speak to you again and everything would all be one big what if. He’d been left with that one single kiss you’d shared and the nice afternoons.

“Jongdae?”

“Hmm?” he looked up at you while grabbing for the sugar beside you.

“I’m unsure of how to do this?”

He frowned. “Cut cookies?”

“No, us, being a thing. With my parents and all, I don’t know.” You mumbled, putting down the icepack beside you.

Jongdae sprinkled the sugar over the counter and rolled the dough through it. “I think that’s something we’ll have time to figure out. I don’t want to force you to sneak around your parents. So if you don’t want to you can tell me and we don’t  have to do this. But I-“ he wanted to say he loved you, it was there on the tip of his tongue but he felt it was way too soon. “I really like you. And you know that in the end you are an adult and your parents can’t control you right?”

You sighed, and he looked at you. You seemed so defeated about the whole situation with your parents, and really as a 22 year old you shouldn’t. But you were and he wanted to do something for you but he couldn’t. He wondered if Jongin experienced it the same as you did. “Have you talked to your brother about it?”

There wasn’t really a fast answer, so he waited and cut the dough in small slices. He ended up with 15 of them, placing them on a sheet of baking paper on a oven tray.

“I have, but they’re much less harsh on him. But he knows what I’m going through and sometimes, like at the cafe, he helps me. He tries to either divert my mom’s attention or talk sense into her. It’s just…been a bit worse since the accident. Maybe she just wants to protect me, I guess she loves me and knows what’s good for me.”

He sighed, moving beside you to put the dish in the oven, setting it to 22 minutes. “I understand what you mean, but what she does is not okay. She’s taking all the things you should enjoy away from you. You should be able to live your life how you want.”

You pulled at his arm to between your legs and hugged him, pressing your face into his shoulder. “I guess I just don’t know any better.”

Jongdae understood that, because you really didn’t. And with him, he knew you were seeing things differently now. He tried to show you all the good things, and he was even considering asking you to come over for christmas, since it was in 2 weeks already. But he was unsure about it, and didn’t really know how to ask you. It was probably too soon for you to meet his family right? He should text Minseok.

He lifted you up from the counter after washing his hands, carrying you to the bed kissing you softly. When he sat you down he took place beside you, looking as you shifted to face him. “It smells nice.” You said.

“They’ll taste best when they’re warm.” He said, brushing your hair out of your face. You yawned at it made him chuckle, which made you blush. “Are you tired?”

You nodded, pulling his vest closer around you, pushing your socked feet under the covers. Jongdae slid his arm under your head, pulling you a bit closer to him. “Close your eyes for a bit.” You were warm, as you softly rested your head on his arm, both of your hands resting between you. He took one of them in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles. All together, he just wanted to see you happy, but he understood he couldn’t just fix this. But he could be here for you even if that created more problems.

Your breath evened out and he smiled at your sleeping form. There was a mole underneath your left eye, and he’d noticed another one yesterday, by your collarbone on the right side. You didn’t have as many as he did though.

***

Your pov

When you woke up it was to the sound of the oven. Jongdae didn’t really move though so you did, pulling away and stretching your back. Which caused you to accidentally arch your chest into him and you blushed lightly. He just chuckled, kissed your cheek, and climbed over you to open the oven and pull the cookies out. You couldn’t have slept more than 15 minutes and you wanted to sleep more.

Jongdae was warm and to your surprise sleeping with him next to you was nice and…not invading. You always thought sleeping with a guy immediately meant more, with exceptions of your bother of course. But it must’ve just been something your mom made you think, or society. Jongdae though, made no moves of touching you or looking at you that made you uncomfortable.

“Did they turn out well?” you asked, rubbing your eyes, finding smudges of make-up on your hand. Stupid mascara, wouldn’t even come off in the shower this morning.

“Yeah, but they’re a little too hot to eat right now.” He turned to face you. “You have mascara under your eyes.”

“Ha. I know.” You said, getting up and jumping on one leg to the bathroom where you remembered you saw make-up remover. “Can I borrow this?” you asked.

He poked his head inside, “oh yeah sure.”

“Wait.” You frowned, picking up some other things. “You own make-up?”

Jongdae chuckled. “Yeah, I do.”

“I never see you wear it.” You stated, putting some of the cleaning water on a cotton pad.

He shook his head. “I actually don’t wear it a lot at all, only when I go out. Which I used to do more a couple of years ago, but not anymore. I guess it’s something that rubbed off on me from Baekhyun and Minseok.”

You wiped under your eyes, removing the slight dark stains from your skin and the residue from your eyelashes. Then you looked at him, thinking of how he’d look with eyeliner or eyeshadow. You were kinda of unsure about that. He always looks so casual but dressed well, but his clean face was kind of part of that.

Jongdae turned around to check the cookies and you noticed that his shirt was still dirty. So you moved over and started brushing away the flour. “You went into your bed like this?”

He shrugged. “I’ll wash the sheets. I’m not that clean.”

You scrunched up your nose at that. “Ew, what other foods did I sleep with?”

It made him laugh and he turned to point a finger at you. “I’m also not that dirty. But if I’m honest there’s probably bread or chips crumbs in there.”

With a snort you slapped his hand away and went to check on your little cookies. They’d turned out nice golden on the edges and a little lighter in the middle. You poked one in the centre, feeling it was a little soft and warm still. “Aren’t they supposed to be hard?”

Jongdae wrapped his arms around your waist from behind resting his chin on your shoulder. “If you leave them to cool they’ll turn crumbly, but they’re nice and soft when they’re warm.” He gently rocked your from side to side and you felt him press his lips to the corner of your jaw, then to the junction of your neck and shoulders, making you shiver. Then he nuzzled his face close, pressing your back against his chest.

“What are you doing?” you giggled, rocking with him.

“Comfy.” He mumbled, hands placed on your stomach.

You found yourself leaning into him, closing your eyes for a second.

“If I’m every overstepping my boundaries.” He suddenly said. “Please do tell me okay.”

Why he said that, you weren’t sure but you nodded at him. You loved spending time with him so much, and he already meant more to you than seemingly most people ever had. However, there was that constant elephant in the room or bump you had to cross concerning your family. And it was not per say awkward but it wasn’t good.

That’s when your phone rang. You untangled him from your, finding it on the bedside table. Yixing. You sighed in defeat and picked it up. “Hey.”

“Hey, I’m on my way there right now. You coming downstairs?” your trainer asked from the car. You could hear the sound of the engine loud and clear, you must be on speaker.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Yeah.” You smiled shyly, even though he couldn’t see.

“See you.” He hung up, and you looked at Jongdae with a pout.

“Was that Yixing?” he asked.

You nodded. “I have to go.”

Jongdae pouted just like you, and came over, taking your hand and dragging you back to the kitchen. “You have to eat cookies though.” He took one from the tray and handed it to you. It was still warm, and when you broke it in half it was soft and crumbly. They tasted like…christmas, sugary but a little salty, a very plain cookie but they were so good. “I can see from your face that you like it.”

You weren’t sure what he was talking about but you blushed and covered your mouth. “Wha?” you said with your mouth full.

He laughed, and fished a little box out of the cupboard below. “Here, take some home.” You munched on your cookie while he put a few in the box and handed it to you. “For when you miss me.” He stuck out his tongue.

You rolled your eyes and took it, staring at the little box. Something in you said you shouldn’t, you’d worked hard to loose al the weight you had and this wasn’t going to help you. Neither was the food you’d had yesterday. “I…”

“Share them with your brother, the staff, I don’t care, but take them okay?” he said, kissing the top of your head and helping you get your crutches to go and leave. He walked you all the way to the door, carrying your phone and the box, as you pulled yourself along with the crutches. In the elevator he spoke up again. “When do I see you again?”

You thought about it, your families schedule, Christmas was coming up and you knew what it meant. Christmas eve at Taemin’s house, then the second day definitely nothing really. Jongin and your dad probably had to get things ready for the Olympics since they left two days after New Year’s. “Uhm…With finals coming up I don’t think I have time before Christmas.”

He tried to hide it but you saw the disappointment in his face. It made you feel your stomach drop. “That’s okay. I have to study too. I haven’t given you my number again but text Baekhyun, he’ll give it. We can text, or call, whenever you’re alone. I’ll miss you.” He whispered the last part, and you couldn’t help but pull him into a kiss when you exited the elevator.

He smiled against your lips, arms wrapping around your waist, slowly kissing you. Parting his lips with yours, tongues gently touching in a way that made your toes curl. You skin tingled when you parted, and he grinned and rubbed his nose against yours. “I’ll see you.”

“Yeah you will.” You kissed his cheek one more time before you stepped outside, where the snow was deep now.

Yixing was waiting there, with a way too big smile plastered on his face. You realised he must’ve seen you and you blushed at the idea. Jongdae waved at him, and Yixing nodded. When you opened the door he spoke up. “So you’re the boyfriend?”

Jongdae obviously beat you to it. “Yep, that’s me. You’re the trainer?”

Yixing laughed in the way only he could, and nodded. “Yeah.”

Your boyfriend helped you inside, and handed you the box and your phone. “Bye.”

“Bye.” You waved at him as you drove off, watching him stand in the cold.

“I want one of those.”

“Huh?” you said, pulled out of your thoughts by his voice.

He pointed at the box on your lap. “Cookies, I can smell them, I want one.”

You glared. “Why would I give you.”

“Oh, someone’s gotten snappy when she was away. Is he teaching you to be sassy now?” he joked. “I want a cookie, as payment for doing this for you.”

Not that you weren’t going to give him any but you feigned mock hurt when you opened the box, holding it out to him. “Here, have one.”

@oh-beyond @yixings10 @xiubaek13 @yeollieollie @nunchiwrites @minseok-baozi @fairyyeols @kimjongdaely

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Poor, poor Levi

Since falling asleep at the morgue, that was all Eren seemed to want to do. When Levi hadn't returned to work for the autopsy he was scheduled to perform at 3pm, Erwin had come looking for him. It had taken some very careful manhandling to get Eren off of him without waking the teen, and once the teen was repositioned on the sofa and covered with a blanket, Levi noticed just how exhausted Eren really was. Dark bags hung under Eren's eyes as if the kid hadn't slept in a month, his lips were dry and cracked, and the kids normally bright tanned skin seemed pale, as if the boy had spent excessive time inside. Sighing softly, Levi had left Eren sleeping, half expecting to find the teen awake when he returned. Instead Eren had slept right through until he clocked off work, and he'd been forced to carry the omega from his office and down to his car.

It was now the next morning and Eren was still fast asleep. Curled around his omega, Levi sighed softly as he pressed another kiss to Eren's shoulder. It seemed cruel to wake him up and send him to school, but he also didn't want Eren missing even more school if he could help it. Closing his eyes, the world had barely turned black before his alarm was beeping at him to get up. Forcing his eyes open again, he held his breath as Eren wriggled in his hold before rolling over and throwing a leg over him

"Eren?"

"Mmmm... morning Levi"

Without opening his eyes, Eren leant in for a kiss so Levi obliged him, pressing a soft kiss to his omegas plump lips

"Mmmm... how long was I asleep?"

"You feel asleep about 1:30 yesterday afternoon and you've slept right through"

"No wonder I feel so refreshed. Going through a heat and then to school... I'm an idiot"

Eren had gone through his heat? Without him? No... the more important question was why?... or it would have been if his alpha didn't feel like it'd just been slapped in the face

"You had your heat?"

Yawning as he nodded, Eren reached out and snaked an arm around Levi's waist

"I love you. I'm sorry for falling asleep"

As if to intentionally tease him, Eren rolled himself to straddle Levi's lap momentarily, before climbing off and then off the bed

"Eren, wait. We need to talk"

Nodding through another yawn, Eren turned back to him, silently asking what this was all about

"When you say you went through your heat..."

"I... I've decided to stop taking my suppressants now I have your bond. I don't want to hide that I love you"

Levi was momentarily flattered, before the pieces fell into place and he realised it was more than likely Eren was making the public declaration to keep Armin away from him

"Eren, you should have talked to me first"

"Maybe, but I just... I needed space and I needed to know how I felt without them in my system. Besides, I've got such a sexy alpha, you can't blame me for feeling possessive"

This had to be some kind of dream. Eren had been crying his eyes out yesterday and now he was acting so cock-sure that Levi's brain couldn't keep up. Perhaps because he was yet to make a move, Eren climbed back onto the bed and moved to sit next to him

"Are you ok Levi?"

"I... Eren, please tell me you didn't do all this because we had sex, or you felt jealous, or even obligated to"

"If this is because of yesterday, I'm sorry. My heat only just ended on Sunday afternoon, and Armin... Armin was being a total arsehole... but I did tell Mikasa about it, she didn't even freak out. You should totally meet her"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Levi was trying to process, but Eren kept talking as if making up for lost time

"I lost it at Armin yesterday, but you should have seen him Levi. He was like throwing himself at everyone who gave him the slightest bit of attention and it was so not like him. And then he got my on my case about me being jealous, and I am, because you're my alpha and I don't want to share you, and..."

"Alright. Enough. I get it. Go take a shower"

Eren frowned at him

"I was only trying to talk to you"

"You were talking at me, not to me. I love you brat, but right now I'm still trying to process what you said"

"So you're mad at me?"

Levi groaned. How the fuck had Eren got that from him telling him he needed time to process

"I didn't say I was mad at you"

"Fine. Forget I said anything. It must seem really stupid for me to be jealous. Don't bother about driving me, I'll catch the bus"

Climbing off the bed, Eren left the room, slamming the door as he went. If he was right about it all, first the teen had been flirty. Then happy. Then sad. Then angry and now he was... something... and all of that had happened on less than 5 minutes. No sane person could keep up with so many mood swings, let alone him, and let alone him without his morning tea in his system.

By the time Levi was showered and somewhat more functional, Eren was sitting down to breakfast. The teen practically inhaling his cereal

"Eren, can we talk about what happened?"

"Nothing to talk about. I made you mad"

"You didn't make me mad. Just... confused. Why didn't you tell me about your heat? Or going off suppressants?"

"Because I forgot them, so the time seemed right"

"And this had nothing to do with Armin?"

"God! Stop saying his name! You're supposed to love me"

"And I do love you. That's why I'm so worried about why you went of your meds"

"Because it's my body! So what if Armin triggered all of this! You're not supposed to care about that"

"You told me to care"

"And you can conveniently stop! He's fine! He doesn't care I'm hurt, he doesn't even know!"

"Did you try to talk to him about it?"

"And say what? I know you jerked off over my alpha's scent, but it's ok because you might end up being his omega and replacing me! Also, Levi and I fucked because your pheromones made us. It already sounds like he's pretty much moved in and accepted your bonding mark"

Eren ended his rant with a pout and a huff, and despite all the kid had put him through, Levi was struggling to accept how sooky Eren was being. The low blows the kid was already swinging deserved a low blow in return

"Eren. How would you feel if Armin was my other omega?"

The spoon fell from Eren's hand as the teen pushed his chair back

"How can you ask that?!"

"I'm being serious. How would you feel if Armin was my other omega?"

"Disgusted!"

"At who?"

"You. Him. Me. It's wrong Levi"

"So you don't want me with anyone else?"

"Haven't I just been saying that?!"

"Good. Now shut the fuck up about this. If you're disgusted, imagine how I feel. I love you. I gave you my mark, and you keep rubbing what happened in my face! I don't want Armin and I'm tired of reliving what happened. Now, if you can't accept that, then you can get out"

Eren opened and closed his mouth, before the teen's mood snapped again and Levi was sent stumbling backwards as Eren threw himself on him, and aggressively nuzzled his neck

"I want you. I want only you. I don't want to share... so love me more Levi. Love me so I know you won't get rid of me!"

Did the kid hear the crappy lines coming from his own mouth? Or was he just... mental? Maybe suffering from a kind of post-heat insanity? If this was Eren medication free, he had no idea how to handle him

"I can't love you anymore than I already do. You're my omega"

"Then why were you so mean?"

"Because you wouldn't listen. Now finish your breakfast and I'll take you to school"

"Fine... but I don't want to go to school. I don't want to see Armin"

Levi groaned. He honestly wished he'd untangled himself from Eren before his alarm went off, and that he'd left the kid sleeping. His head was already throbbing and it was only just after 7:30. How the hell was he supposed to survive the next hour or so, until Eren was at school and he could finally catch a break?