#i wish i could remember which radio it was but i still just think about that one jyushi radio where he was able to share hitoya’s pastimes

[akkivee]

ok now I'm imagining kuukou hosting Hot Ones interviews with the rest of the hpmi cast

for reference, Hot Ones is a celebrity interview show where the guest has to answer questions while eating progressively hotter and hotter sauces on wings. It catches them off their gaurd a little bit and they respond more earnestly because their PR brain is off and all they can focus is on dying of spice and answering questions

Imagining him doing this to Jakurai in particular 🤣

KUUKOU WOULD HAVE A BLAST BEING THE HOT ONES HOST HE GETS TO EAT EXTREME FOOD AND LEARN ABOUT THE OTHERS WITHOUT SHARING SHIT ABOUT HIMSELF THATS HIS BRAND LOL

[sunny44]

Lights out and together we go

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Girlfriend (or future wife)! reader

Warnings: max and reader getting deunk, mentions of sex and another stuffs

Summary: Where Max and y/n think it's a good idea to get married drunk in Vegas.

Y/n and I arrived in Vegas a day earlier than planned; she had never been there and wanted to explore the city. We were in the paddock now, and I was finishing adjusting my racing suit to get ready for the race. As I closed it, I felt someone hugging me from behind, and I knew it was my girlfriend.

"Hi, love," she whispered, and I smiled.

"Hi, love. Everything okay?" I turned around, and she smiled.

“Yes, just came to wish you good luck."

"Good thing you didn't forget." I smiled, bending down to her level. She smiled in the middle of the kiss.

"Good luck, and take care." She ran her hand through my hair and gave me another quick kiss before going to the spot where she would watch the race.

On the track, I got into the car and prepared for what could be the best or worst race of the year.

"MAX VERSTAPPEN, YOU ARE THE FIRST WINNER OF THE LAS VEGAS GRAND PRIX," my engineer shouted on the radio, and I celebrated.

I stopped the car in the first position and got out, seeing the team and my girlfriend among them. She was much smaller than everyone, so she was hidden among the mechanics.

"You won," she said excitedly, hugging me.

"Yeah, after almost dying a few times." She slapped my arm, and I laughed, kissing her and then weighing in before heading to the podium.

...

Now, we were in a club celebrating the victory with the team. Y/n was chatting animatedly with Kika about something I wasn't paying attention to, and I had my arm around her waist as she stood in front of me.

"Do you wanna dance?" She asked in my ear, and even though I'm not a big fan, I knew how much she enjoyed it, so I agreed.

As the hours passed, we were more than drunk, still dancing together and completely sweaty.

"You know," she said, and I knew something crazy was coming. "There's a chapel nearby."

"You want to get married in Vegas?"

"Don't you?"

"Married to you, yes, but I never thought you'd want to do it here." I held her tighter and kissed her neck. "But I would never refuse to marry you, so..."

"Shall we?" I laughed and agreed.

[…]

I woke up with a throbbing headache and a persistent ringing in my ears. I opened my eyes, looked around and saw the ridiculous decoration of the hotel room that wasn't ours.

I looked at Y/n lying next to me, and under the red sheet, we were both naked. I searched for my phone and saw it lying on the floor with a cracked screen.

When I unlocked it, I noticed several missed calls from Christian and messages from Daniel. I replied to them and put it aside again.

I got up to go to the bathroom and laughed seeing that the bed was heart-shaped. I entered the bathroom and saw marks on my neck and back, and some flashes of the previous night came back as I smiled, remembering a bit.

"What the hell happened last night?" I murmured to myself. After going to the bathroom, I returned to the room, and my girlfriend was sitting on the bed with wide eyes, staring at the floor.

"What happened?" She didn't say anything, and I approached her, touching her shoulder, which brought her out of the trance. "Is everything okay?"

"We have a problem." She said, and I waited for her to continue. "Two problems, actually."

"What are they?"

"We're married." She said, and I widened my eyes.

"What?"

"We're married, Max." She lifted her hand, showing the ring.

It was the ring I had bought a while ago to propose, but I hadn't had the chance to do it, at least not in the way I felt was ideal.

I approached her and took her hand, looking at the ring that I was preparing to use for a proposal. It was now on her finger after apparently getting married drunk in Vegas.

"But that doesn't mean anything." I said nervously.

"What do you mean nothing? There's a ring on my finger, Max, it can only mean one thing." She said, raising only in her panties and grabbing my shirt from the floor.

"It could mean that we're just engaged." I said quickly, and she looked at me.

"And where did this ring come from then?"

"It's mine." I said, and she widened her eyes. "It's yours, actually. I bought it a few months ago because I had plans to propose to you, but I hadn't felt there was an ideal moment yet. Apparently, my drunk self thought it was the right time."

I felt on the bed completely outraged by my stupidity in ruining something important.

"Maxie," she said affectionately, and I felt her hand on my face as she sat on my lap. "You know I don't care about these big things."

"I know, but I wanted it to be something special, not us drunk and sweaty in Vegas." She smiled and gave me a peck. "Is everything okay?"

"It's okay." She kissed my forehead and hugged me. After a few minutes, she got up and grabbed her phone. "Max."

"Yeah?"

"You didn't propose to me."

"What?"

"We're already married." She showed several pictures of us in the chapel set up in the paddock, both clearly drunk, being married by an Elvis.

"We're crazy." I said seriously, and she started laughing. "What are you laughing at?"

"Why are we making such a drama?"

"What do you mean?"

"We were happy; you already planned to propose to me, and I would have accepted." She said calmly. "I love you, and I would marry you any way, no matter where or how."

"Really?" She nodded, and I hugged her.

"Really." I gave her a peck, and we hugged.

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and I'm very happy to be your husband, Mrs. Verstappen."

"And I'm also very happy to be your wife, Mr. Verstappen."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Maxie."

[…]

Since the race was on the Saturday night, today at Sunday night, we have dinner with all the drivers, organized by Charles to celebrate our first Vegas race. I was sitting on the bed looking at the photos of our "wedding," laughing at our pictures.

"How do I look?" She came out of the bathroom and ran her hands over her dress.

She was wearing a red strapless dress with glitter, and her hair was pulled back.

"WOW, you look beautiful." I said, getting up and going to her.

"Thank you, so do you." She said, adjusting the collar of my shirt.

"Can we go?" She agreed, and we went to the private room that Charles had rented. When we entered, everyone was already there.

"Good evening, everyone." She smiled and started greeting everyone. I went to where Charles, Carlos, and Lando were.

"I have a serious question." Lando said coming near me. "Look I get why you’re with her, I mean I have a soft spot for brunettes too. What I don’t get is why she likes you? I mean look at her."

"Haha very funny. But now you can stop fangirling my wife."

"Wait did you say wife?" Charles asked, and I cursed myself and my big mouth.

"Fuck." I said. "Look, Y/n and I agreed to keep this a secret so just pretend I didn’t tell you guys."

"Okay but tell us the story." Carlos asked.

"Well, we got drunk after celebrating my win, and then apparently we got married in the F1 chapel by some guy dressed as Elvis." They started laughing. "It’s not funny; I was pretending to propose to her the way she deserved and not just marrying in Vegas and fuck her after and not remembering later."

"Okay stop right now, we don’t need all the details of your night."

"Well, if you look at my back, you will imagine how it went." I said, showing them.

"Oh wow, now I’m interested.”

"Max." She said coming to me. "Hi, boys."

"Hello, Mrs. Ver..." I widened my eyes at Lando. "Actually, now that I've noticed, your eyes are blue."

"They are."

"They are beautiful." He said.

"You know I'm committed, right?" She said confused by his behavior.

"I know." He said nervously. "I'm going to get a drink."

"Is he okay?" She wondered turning to me.

"You know how he is, not used to drinking."

"Neither are we." She said laughing.

...

It's Monday and we're leaving Vegas after a hectic and crazy weekend. We're going to Abu Dhabi for the last race of the year.

"Did you see the news this morning?"

"That our marriage was revealed." She nodded. "Yes, I saw, I'm sorry."

"No need to feel sorry; I'm not ashamed that people know I married the love of my life," she said, giving me a kiss. "It's okay, don't worry."

"Okay." I said, kissing her forehead, and remembered something she said that morning.

"Remember you said we had two problems but got distracted by the marriage thing? What was the other one?"

"Oh my God, I had forgotten." She said nervously. "It's that we had sex without protection, and I'm in my fertile period."

"What? Is that serious?"

"Yes."

"My God, we're going to have a baby."

"Not necessarily, it doesn't mean I'll get pregnant."

"But what if you do?"

"We'll have a mini Verstappen in a few months."

"Okay, we won't come to Vegas ever again." She laughed, and we boarded the jet heading to Abu Dhabi.

Bonus scene!

Y/nverstappen Instagram stories

“Yes I’ve changed my user and now I’m Mrs. Verstappen”

[jgracie]

HEY BLONDIE — LEO + DAUGHTER OF POSEIDON

masterlist | rules

♡ dedicated to covey @hopelesslyromanticshark the blueprint for the poseidon girlie x leo trope 😇 lovey > caleo 4eva (even the ship name is cuter!)

❝ daughter of poseidon x leo valdez!!!!! ❞ — anon

in which leo dates a daughter of poseidon

pairing leo valdez x poseidon!reader

warnings percys a bit of an ass in this lowk sorry guys (he didn't mean it i promise!!!), they have tech, andddd i lowk hate this but i haven’t posted in three days so 🙁 maybe i’ll rewrite it someday!!

on the radio . . . hey blondie (dominic fike)

an i’ve been DYING for someone to request this combo i love it sm …. also OGs remember when my bio was hey blondie 🫡 reader isn’t blonde dw (i’m not even blonde myself) !! also reader is a year younger than percy (making her the same age as leo)

Leo didn’t know Percy had a sister. Maybe he was living under a rock (he was - Leo spent the majority of his days at Bunker 9), but he just hadn’t considered the possibility of it, with Percy being a child of the big three and all

If Leo had known of your existence sooner, he would’ve burnt down Bunker 9 himself and spent the rest of his days glued to your side. He had met many people, but none as perfect and charming as you

You see, the boy was simply going to pass by Cabin 3 to show Percy this new gadget he’d made for him and see if he wanted to hang out sometime, since Leo hadn’t seen Percy in a while, when he met you - Y/N, Percy’s younger half-sister

“Hello, may I help you?” You asked, opening the front door of your cabin and being met with a boy with curly brown hair and big brown eyes. Immediately, you felt the heat radiating off of him increase and all of a sudden his brown curls were on fire

As a child of Poseidon, naturally, you’ve never been fond of fire, so this freaked you out. Knowing the water fountain was right behind you, you controlled the water with your hands and shot it at Leo, putting out the fire and drenching him in the process

Leo didn’t care, though. You could drown him for Hephaestus’ sake and he’d still come crawling back - okay, maybe that was a little much. He took in your worried expression and a wave of guilt washed over him as he realised how afraid you were

“I’m sorry, I have a hard time controlling my fire powers sometimes… Where’s Percy?” He asked, not even bothering to question your Godly heritage. You were very clearly a daughter of Poseidon

After that, things calmed down between you two. You let him in and although you were wary of Leo (and sat as far away from him as possible without being labelled as rude), patiently listened as he explained why he was looking for your brother

He then showed you the gadget he made and when Leo saw the way your eyes lit up at its mechanisms, he knew his life would no longer be complete if you weren’t in it

You gushed over the thing, pressing the buttons over and over again (which Leo didn’t have the heart to tell you would wear them down) and showering him in compliments - something that has never happened to Leo before

A grin made its way onto his lips. Sure, people have praised his creations before, but none of them did it the way you did, nearly bursting with excitement as you tried to handle it with utmost care

Part of Leo wished Percy would never come back to cabin 3 ever again, but speak (in this case, think) of the devil and he shall appear. That was his unfortunate cue to leave

He quickly showed Percy how to handle the device and was about to leave when you stopped him. Leo almost couldn’t believe his ears and almost leaped for joy when he heard you ask if you could pass by his cabin sometime, since you really wanted to see more of his stuff

That was the beginning of the most iconic friendship in Camp Half-Blood history

You quickly discovered you had a lot in common and so, you became attached at the hip. It was so bad that whenever someone was asked where one of you were, they’d give the location of the other since they knew there was an incredibly high possibility of you being together

Leo taught you how to use a screwdriver and weld and I can’t think of a third thing people who make machines do but you get the gist! And in return, you taught him how to swim

His ability to swim (or lack thereof) was something which was brought up your very first time hanging out together at bunker nine. After many attempts, you finally successfully hammered a nail into a piece of metal (fyi I’m a daughter of Demeter I know absolutely nothing about this subject) and in your enthusiastic state insisted you go to the beach together

At your suggestion, Leo got awfully quiet and began shyly playing with a stray piece of metal. Your eyebrows furrowed, confused for a second about the shift in his behaviour, when it finally clicked

“Oh my Gods, Leo, do you not know how to swim?” You asked, hesitant - you didn’t want to embarrass the poor guy. He looked up at you and nodded, pouting at the way your lips wobbled as you tried not to giggle. You weren’t laughing at him, of course, you just thought it was really cute

Grabbing him by the arm, you began to drag him to your cabin and said, “c’mon, I’ll teach you! It’ll be like me repaying you for teaching me how to do all the fancy things you do with metal!”

You guys started going to the beach more often after that. At first, you were just teaching Leo how to be in a body of water and not drown, but once he got the hang of it you started having swimming competitions and introducing him to all your fish friends!

They’re always telling you to hurry up and confess because it's so obvious that you like Leo and you keeping it to yourself isn’t doing you any favours but you can’t. Why? Because you don’t think Leo likes you back

Meanwhile Leo’s sitting on the sand next to you admiring the way you seem to gain life by being near a body of water, having to push his fire powers down whenever you’d pull him closer to you, the only thing filling the space between you being the water of the ocean

You are quite literally Mr and Mrs Oblivious. Everyone can tell you like each other but yourselves

It’s actually really funny because you run in the same circles so you tend to complain to the same people about how the other can’t tell you like them and they’re just sitting there trying SO hard not to facepalm

Most of the time you two go to Annabeth, simply because she’s the only one you believe can keep a secret as big as your crushes. Unfortunately for you she and Percy come as a packaged duo, which means Percy’s aware

She didn’t mean to tell him but one time after a heated discussion with you where you analysed Leo’s every move it was still fresh on her mind and she let it slip

Ever since then, Percy’s been eyeing Leo, who’s definitely noticed the behaviour switch. It’s not like Percy had anything against you dating - you were only a year younger than him, after all, and you never tried to stop him and Annabeth from dating - but he couldn’t help but feel a little protective

An extra year of life still made you his baby sister! He’d insist to Annabeth that it doesn’t bother him and Leo is a good guy and his friend so he’s happy that the two of you reciprocate each other’s feelings then turn and give the poor boy a glare so terrifying it’d make a hellhound cower in fear

While all of this is happening, Leo’s freaking out. He’s absolutely losing his mind because all of a sudden Percy no longer likes him which means he’s probably noticed he likes you and disapproves of your potential relationship

All these thoughts cause him to spiral and eventually distance himself from you. It was just occasionally rejecting plans but then it turned into him somehow always being busy, and it broke your heart

Percy, being the kind and loving brother he is, asked you what was wrong on one of those days and you had to fight the urge to burst into tears as you told him about how you thought you did something to hurt Leo

You see, Leo was your first real friend at camp. Sure, you had other friends, but they were all just casual acquaintances you’d talk to whenever you happened to see them. Leo was your first best friend, which meant a lot

In that moment, Percy knew what he had to do

“Hey, why’re you avoiding Y/N?” Percy asked, barging into bunker nine, his arms crossed as he stared down Leo, who was busy making something (as usual)

Leo, who hadn’t been fully listening, looked up to find none other than Percy Jackson standing in front of him, “what?” He asked, his eyes widening

“I said, why are you avoiding my sister?” He repeated, the scowl on his face deepening. Percy was usually a pretty nice guy, but that could change really quickly if anyone ever even thinks of hurting his loved ones (loyalty is his fatal flaw after all)

Putting his tools down, Leo stood up, suddenly defensive. Why was Percy putting the blame on him? He was the reason Leo decided to talk to you less in the first place. Doing that to you really hurt Leo, but he wasn’t going to let himself get close to you just to end up heartbroken and without two friends in the end

“Do you hate her all of a sudden, is that it? Because if that’s the case, you should at least be kind enough to voice those thoughts so she can find new friends–”

“Dude, I love Y/N. Who put that in your head?” Leo interrupted, “I’m avoiding Y/N because I’ve seen the way you look at me, Percy. I get it, you’re not happy that I like her, and I don’t want to bother you or put a strain in your relationship, so I’ve distanced myself.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He avoided you because he loved you, because he didn’t want there to be any trouble between you and your brother because of him, and yet somehow here he was being accused of hating you?

You’re the first person Leo truly felt love for ever since his own mother. How could he hate you

“Tell her,” Percy said. He felt immensely guilty as the realisation that he was the reason why you’d almost lost your crush and best friend hit him. He never meant for it to go this far, and honestly, the glances weren’t even purposeful - he just couldn’t help it

“She likes you too, literally everyone at camp knows it, you’ll be fine. And Leo, I’m really sorry I made you feel that way. I didn’t mean to, honestly, I just really care about Y/N and don’t want her to get hurt. But I know you won’t hurt her, so… I approve.”

When I say Leo ran so fast to your cabin that he left a whole trail of fire behind him, I’m not exaggerating. He passed by Flowers and Vines (Demeter + Dionysus kid flower shop/fruits market iykyk) and set their crops on fire, quickly making himself their mortal enemy

He couldn’t care less though. You liked him back! In a few moments, he’d confess and you’d agree to date him and you’d finally be his

And confess he did <3 you were a little mad at Percy at first for unintentionally separating the two of you but after three days’ worth of grovelling you were fine

You couldn’t be too mad, after all, since you now had your fireboy

(The crowd cheers!!!! After 5 pages of backstory you get actual dating hcs)

Okay so I just want to start by saying that Leo is literally like a raven or a cat or whatever animal it is. He’s constantly finding the randomest trinkets and just giving them you for no reason

He goes to the beach a lot on his own whenever he misses you because the salty air smells just like the crook of your neck and often comes back with a bunch of seashells, randomly shaped rocks and one time an actually alive sand dollar

You spent so long teaching him how to spot one that’s alive and one that’s dead so when he saw a sand dollar he got really excited at the idea of you being proud of him remembering the difference that he’d forgotten it

His favourite things are the seashells though. Why? Well, because he can turn them into cute jewellery for you, duh!

It started off as a silly little idea. He found a cute seashell and thought ‘what if I strung a piece of thread through this and made it a necklace for my beautiful hot gorgeous pretty siren mermaid cutie pie Y/N?’

He ended up doing it and you loved it so much he decided he’d make you a whole collection of seashell jewellery

The second time around, he made an actual chain for the necklace because you’re deserving of more than some lousy thread!!!

Then he began making bracelets and rings and earrings and all sorts of other things for you. Somehow, despite making so many of them, Leo managed to make them all unique in their own way. Your favourite, however, was the seashell locket he made you for one of your anniversaries

Inside of the locket is a picture you took together on the beach. It was from back when you were just friends, but you looked so gorgeous in it Leo couldn’t help but choose it for the necklace

Also, you guys are LITERALLY fireboy and watergirl

You’d had an epiphany one day whilst lying your head on his chest and the gasp you let out had Leo worried you were dying for a second

When you told him this, Leo was confused. Being in the foster care system at a young age then sent to wilderness school then doing demigod things left very little room for him to discover modern things other people his age liked

You immediately took him to the little computer you shared with Percy and opened up fireboy and watergirl (the OG game of course, not one of the newer editions) and taught him how to play

Honestly, Leo’s really bad at it. Like at first you thought he just needed to get the hang of it but then you reached the one year anniversary of when you first showed him FB & WG and he was STILL awful at it (also yes you know what day that is. You and Leo have anniversaries for everything)

“Leo!” You exclaimed, unable to watch as the try again prompt popped up on the screen. After about 50 times doing this level (which you had completed on your own before just fine), you’d finally gotten to the last hurdle when, of course, fireboy had to fall into the green slime

Leo pouted, once again prepared to fight his case, “Fireboy’s an idiot! It’s not my fault you get to control the smarter one out of the two!”

“Nuh, uh! Fireboy’s so much easier to control! He has the arrows, watergirl has WASD, which is way harder!”

“Fine, you control him, since he’s so easy to use!”

“But I’m Watergirl! I can’t have you killing me too!”

You’d have this conversation almost every single time you played the game. It got so bad one time Percy had to block the fireboy and watergirl website from the computer

Which was stupid because Leo’s literally a son of Hephaestus so all he had to do was touch the computer and it quickly became unbanned!

Also I think all children of Poseidon have an obscene amount of fish/sea animal merch. Specifically plushies

Leo stayed the night at your cabin once thinking ‘oh my Gods I’m gonna be sleeping with Y/N for the first time WTF WTF WTF!!!’ only to end up sleeping with Chelsea the starfish instead

He teased you a little at first but you’d refused to talk to him after that so he accepted them into the L/N-Valdez family (despite them hogging the bed 😒)

Now, he also defends the plushies like his life depends on it. If someone even DARES to utter a word against Haley the seahorse its ON SIGHT fr

He also keeps a mental note of all the names of your plushies to see if he can figure out a theme with the kinds of names you like for when you name your future baby but that’s a story for another day!

[fraugwinska]

Hello beautiful! Not only I just discovered your writing and binds read your entire master list … could I request a part 2 from the eye of the storm?

Maybe something like where the reader is worried about Alastor at night and she goes to comfort him. He asks her to tell him a story while she lays beside him but as he falls asleep he ends cuddling? Tysm and please take all the time you need💕💕💕

Your wishes are my command - I strayed a little from your idea, but I hope you'll like it nonetheless! It's angst and fluff, and a little sweet at the end! And of course, it leaves room for a possible (Spicy) Part 3? ;> Who knows?

This is the second part of a Mini-Series. Part 1: The Eye of the Storm is right over here.

Two weeks had passed since the night Alastor's nightmare almost tore the hotel apart. Your wounds, caused by the sharp claws of the demonic form of Alastor, had healed pretty well and were barely noticeable anymore, thanks to dutiful tending of Charlie and Niffty, except for the scar on your hip, still pink and sore. You didn't mind, though. It was a physical memento of a sacrifice made for someone you deeply cared about.

In fact, you had a hard time forgetting that night, because every time you looked at the scar, the image of the Radio Demon, hunched and sobbing on his bed, flashed through your head, and you felt your heart clench. He hadn't spoken much to you since then. He hadn't spoken much to anyone in the hotel, really. You tried to approach him, but he always seemed to find an excuse to get out of a conversation, or leave the room you entered. When you asked him if he was alright, he laughed it off and waved his hand, telling you it was not worth worrying about. You knew him enough by now to know it wasn't true. You also knew him enough to know that if you tried to push him, he'd retreat further.

So, you just observed him from a distance, the way his smile looked tired when he thought no one was looking, the way his laugh seemed hollow, his eyes dim and exhausted. Sometimes you'd catch him blankly staring at the wall or ceiling or a painting on the wall for minutes, before snapping back and continuing whatever task he was supposed to do.

"I'm worried about him, too."

Charlie was sitting beside you on the lounge set in the foyer, both of you nursing a cup of hot cocoa, while Alastor was preparing dinner in the kitchen, humming some melancholic tune that traveled through the closed door. "But I don't know how to help him. He doesn't seem like he's interested in opening up to me or the others, or talk about what happened. It's as if he's just... shut off."

You sighed, sipping from the drink. "Yeah. He's been getting slimmer too, and always looks so... tired."

Charlie nodded, and you exchanged a glance. "Is there any chance that... maybe he would open up to you? You seemed to have a connection to him more than we were ever able to have with him. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I can't help but think he'd feel more comfortable around you."

"I tried, Charlie - he just... vanishes, before I can even finish a sentence... he avoids me. It's like he's running from me."

Charlie looked into the bottom of her mug, turning the now empty dish in her hands. "...Well, in times like this, we don't want the help. Especially if our pride is involved." she smiled warmly at you, her usual determination now back in her eyes. "But I know someone who would stop at nothing to help him."

Your footsteps sounded much louder in the silence of the night as you climbed the stairs up to Alastors suite. You glanced at the lights, remembering the green sheen and how the swirling shadows in the dimness had made your skin crawl. But the staircase was dipped in the usual golden light, nothing amiss, nothing scary. There was only a faint sound, almost like a static, hanging in the air. Alastors own wards and spell protecting his space, you were sure. Which left the possibility of him already knowing you were on your way. For a moment you hesitated - was it of use to go to him when he'd possibly already fled to evade you? A few nights ago you might've retreated. But after two weeks of watching your friend suffer, your determination prevailed, and you knocked, firmly and resolutely.

A second of silence. Then another one. You raised your hand to knock again when the door swung open - And Alastor stood before you, his grin in place, yet there was a sense of exhaustion seeping through his mask. He seemed taken off guard, obviously he wasn't expecting someone to come visit him late at night, so your prediction had been proven wrong. It was very rare to see the radio demon in anything else than his usual attire. But he was standing before you now, in a scandalously casual ensemble: A crimson robe over an open collared black pajama shirt showing some of his usually hidden, taupe fur, the silk tie loosely knotted at the waist, black matching trousers and without shoes.

"It's mighty late for a visit, dear." His voice held a sharpness and rough edge. But the tired, dull expression behind the grin was already crumbling when he gazed into your face.

"I wanted to see you. I'd noticed you weren't... doing so good after what happened."

He cast his glance everywhere but to you, avoiding your concerned stare. "I've told you before, your concern is absolutely unnecessary dear, I'm fi-" "Alastor, please." you interrupted, gently taking his wrist into your palm to halt his hand from waving his way out of the conversation. You looked at him, and he tried not to look at you, but slowly, oh so slowly, his gaze slipped back to your face, and his composure visibly started to crumble, his grip on his tactical expression slipping like sand through fingers. "I'm not here to judge you. Or to berate you. I'm worried."

He chuckled bitterly, closing the distance between you as his whole stance now seemed to curl. "Worrying is not necess-" "Probably." you shrugged, your hand sliding from his wrist to his cold fingers. "But friends worry, when they see the person they care about suffer." "Friends are a bother." his eyes flickered. "That's true. And yet they care."

He let his head bow forward, and suddenly he reminded you so much of that dark, trembling creature you found on his bed two weeks ago. You never thought the powerful Radio Demon would allow himself to appear like this in front of someone consciously. But maybe you weren't just someone... to him. The thought made your pulse flutter.

"I find myself unable..." Alastor started, his eyes staring at your intertwined hands. "...to find rest these days. I don't feel the need to sleep as frequently as your fellow residents, but... the incident, the dream, what happened - it seems it has rattled me more than I care to admit. What you did for me and what I did to you in return..." He chuckled, but it sounded much weaker, lacking his usually cheerful mockery as his free hand hovered over the side of your waist where the fresh scar sat under your clothes. "The thought of it being repeated feels unbearable."

"That's why I'm here." You squeezed his hand. "I've seen you at your worst and still came back, because I wanted to tell you that I'm neither weary nor scared. And that you don't have to bear this burden alone, Alastor. Please... let me help you."

The Radio Demon stood still, and for a moment you thought he'd retreat again, but then his shoulders relaxed, and the grin melted into a small, tired smile. His hand tightened on yours and he sighed. "Well then, come inside."

As you stepped into the familiar room, you noticed the difference immediately. The curtains were drawn, the lamps were on and the record player was playing quietly, a melancholic jazz piece filling the silence. Alastor had done his best to keep the memory of that night away by repairing the walls and furniture and replacing the shredded bedding and mattress of his bed with brand new ones. So new in fact, they looked like they were never touched.

"Please, take a seat." he gestured to one of the two wing chairs by his fireplace, now burning in warm oranges and scarlets rather than the eerie green you remembered, and as you settled down he joined you in the other opposite to you. The silence hung between you for a moment, neither of you really knowing what to say next. He was intently watching the flames dancing on the scorched wood, and you studied his profile, the soft, dark fur of his ears, his thin, elegant nose and the deep crease between his eyebrows. You had never seen him lower his guard this much. Well, that wasn't quite true - once, in this very room, although under much different circumstances. You could see his hand, resting on the arm of the chair, twitch as if it were fighting an impulse.

"It's funny, isn't it?" he started, his voice a bit too light. "I'm a powerful entity in hell, able to rip and tear and destroy. A feared, powerful, dangerous overlord. And yet I seem to be rendered helpless by my own mind. Laughable, really."

"I'm not laughing." you said quietly, and his head turned towards you, a raised eyebrow and a hint of amusement in his expression.

"Indeed you are not."

"And I think you are far from helpless." You continued, a small smile appearing on your face as you watched a little flame wind itself from a knothole, gaining volume and fizzing strongly. "I've never met a demon as strong-willed and determined as you, Alastor. I think the reason it has been affecting you so badly, is because you have power over everything else. But when it comes to the things happening inside your own head - when you are asleep - you aren't in control, and that can be terrifying."

His gaze was fixed on your face, the crimson of his irises shimmering and flickering. He looked... intrigued. And, something else. Something softer, that made your heartbeat a little faster.

"You are... a fascinating thing." he hummed, and his fingers started to drum on the armrest, his other hand fidgeting, still fighting that strange, hidden urge. "You seem to... calm me. With your mere presence, it feels... soothing. The thoughts of that night don't vanish, but they lose their grip. Like the tempest in me is being tamed." "Is that a bad thing?" you asked, a bit puzzled, and a bit amused.

"Yes and No." He answered, quickly and without hesitation. "I don't depend on others. It's unreliable. Too many factors are involved, and when you care about someone, it means you leave them with the ability to hurt you." His hand was tapping faster. "That sounds like a lonely existence." "Loneliness is the most reliable thing of them all. But..." he sighs and follows your gaze back to his fireplace. The small flame grew into a strong blaze, swishing and crackling loudly now. "...It is also the most draining. And I have to admit that I'm thoroughly exhausted, dearest."

"I'll stay with you tonight." You whispered, leaning forward and reaching out to take his restless hand. The motion surprised him, his eyes snapping back to you. "If you want to." He stared at your hand on his, the fire reflecting on his ruby eyes, and slowly, the twitching and drumming subsided, and his fingers curled around yours, a small squeeze.

"I believe I'd be glad for the company." he uttered.

For the next half an hour or so, you sat with Alastor in comfortable silence, both of your eyes on the flames and hands still intertwined as the jazz faded into blues, slow, melancholic and calm until the fire died down. Sometimes, his thumb drew little circles on the side of your hand, and you took it as an encouragement. His face was back to its tired state, though he didn't seem quite as guarded and withdrawn anymore. When there was nothing more than faintly glowing logs in the ember bed, you shifted your weight and gave his hand a careful tug. "Do you think it's time?"

He swallowed audibly and his eyes closed. "I suppose so." he smiled tightly, rising and pulling you up with him, and you both walked over to his gigantic bed, draped with fresh crimson sheets and matching duvets, untouched, spotless, pristine. He stopped before the side of the bed and for a few moments - he stared down, his grip on your hand almost painfully tight now. You tilted your head, giving him a reassuring smile.

"If you're uncomfortable about sharing the bed I can pull over one of the chairs, I don't mind..."

"Absolutely not." he turned his head, and you could see how flustered his expression was now. "Ah - I mean... no, dear, that's alright."

You left his side and rounded the bed, lifting the duvet without looking at him as you shuffled out of your slippers. If you were honest, you felt just as awkward as Alastor looked, not to mention nervous and anxious and a lot of other complicated things. But you'd be damned to show that now, and risk him retreating. So you settled in, slipping your legs under the heavy covers. They felt just as comfortable as they looked.

You noticed him hesitating on his side of the bed, unmoving, his hands halted at the knot of his robe. You adamantly looked away from him, overly interested in the obscure knick-knacks that were scattered in the cupboards on the opposite wall - it was clear he was struggling to shed his clothes in front of you, even if it was only an overcoat. You heard an airy, quiet chuckle and fabric rustling, felt the duvet lifting again and then a weight dipped the mattress next to you. You could feel Alastor shifting and settling, could hear the shallow, anxious breaths and were aware that his eyes were burning on the side of your head, and you realized that he, too, was doing a valiant job at keeping his composure. You leaned back into the pillows, then he snapped his fingers and there was silence. And darkness.

At the lack of light in your vision, your senses heightened and you took everything in much more intently. His body heat close, his breathing next to you, his faint scent of smoke and herbs surrounding you. How small the space between your bodies was, the last remaining inch a gaping ravine in your mind. The mattress dipped as his body turned, facing yours and now his eyes were right there, glimmering and deep red in the pitch black darkness, following your every movement as you shifted too. You felt your heart hammering loudly and you could almost hear the blood rushing through your body. And you knew Alastor could hear that. Hear your quickened breathing. Feel the warmth of you just as you felt his.

There was a tense, terrifying moment, stretched endlessly until your eyelids fluttered shut - you heard, as much as you felt, the bed dipping under his shifting body weight, and suddenly, the ravine was filled by him and he was all around you, pulling you in sort of a protective embrace as you were surrounded by his warmth. Your head fell against the base of his throat as he tucked your face into the crook of his neck, a shaky sigh leaving him as he wrapped his limbs around you. The sudden proximity caught you entirely off-guard - you knew Alastor had a deep aversion against close physical contact. The hand holding had been a huge success for you, a sign that his trust for you went beyond the ordinary. You had been fully prepared to honor a discreet distance between you and him as to not make him feel more uncomfortable, but to pull you so close like this, voluntarily at that, initiated by him, made you go rigid in nervousness at how to react to it. You could already feel him retreat, that awkwardness from before already flooding back between you as he felt your body stiffen.

"Aah... my apologies, dear, I didn't mean to get so..."

Your reaction was instant, almost instinctively, body already knowing what your mind still was figuring out. Your hands slid around his slender waist as you pulled yourself closer to him, since you believed actions spoke louder than words to soothe the conflict he was battling. One leg came to rest between his, you felt his hips brushing against yours, and your palm came to rest in between his shoulder blades and you buried your face into the warm fur of his throat, and all tension left him, as another, heavier, long-drawn sigh rumbled through him, and he curled his form back around your smaller frame.

"If I'll return to the dreams that caused such havoc..." he mumbled quietly, his tone unusually wavering. "Then I'll get you out again and help Niffty clean up the mess." "Silly girl, absolutely ridiculous." his breath tickled against your ear, but he sounded lighter already. More like his usual self.

His leg entangled between yours, the limb as muscular as his chest and shoulders had always hinted at. His hand was tracing shapes and unknown symbols onto your back, and you wondered if it was a form of spellcasting to keep you safe while sleeping. But whether it was, or just unconscious movements, the gesture alone was making your heart flutter. The fact that it was his very real, very physical, very touchable chest and hands that were pressed onto your barely clothed skin, providing the soft massaging, and the warm, comforting sensation of his body heat against your own - it was exhilarating and overwhelmingly, absurdly, beautifully intimate.

Friends.

You wondered if that word could describe you and the radio demon. There was something... so much more, at least in your head. So much deeper. He meant something different to you than the others, Vaggie, Charlie - something special. A deep emotional pull, an urge to always seek and - absurdly, knowing he was who he was - to protect, the need to understand. To care and to comfort and to feel his presence at your side. An inevitable, chaotic and maybe even borderline obsessive attraction you couldn't and didn't want to escape. It had already become evident to you, especially in these past two weeks, that you felt something deeper for the demon everyone in the hotel was so wary about. He was special to you, yes, an anchor in a world that could throw any horrible thing at you at any given time, a world that wasn't trustworthy nor consistent. But in a weird twist of fate, he was. To you, he was calmness, security, trust, consistency... happiness.

"...Alastor?" You murmured quietly into the darkness, feeling his cheek come to a rest on the side of your head.

"Yes?" he breathed back, voice laced with drowsiness. His hand kept its rhythmic circling motions on your back, and you realized there was a good chance for you both to drift into a blissfully undisturbed slumber like this, which would make waking up in each other's arms so much easier than the alternative.

"I... You're..." But as soon as you wanted to tell him, to say it out loud, words eluded you. Every sound, every combination of syllables suddenly seemed wrong, sounded stupid, like a horrendous mistake. Your heartbeat quickened and you felt a lump in your throat, your feeble courage battling with your cowardice as the idea of giving this whole idea up, putting those dangerous feelings aside and trying to suppress and pretend they never existed for the sake of preserving your one true friendship, fought back with everything it could muster.

It was such a terrifying leap. And wouldn't it be selfish? To burden him with your feelings, to most likely ruin the bond you had with him right now, which made both your lives better with a companionship so rare. Such an utterly idiotic, thoughtless move.

"Darling..."

You could feel a finger push your chin up and his lips were suddenly a hair's breadth from your own, his nose brushing yours and his warm breath ghosted over your skin. How easy would it be to close the gap now, fill that tiny remainder of space with your mouth and he would finally know what you were about to say. The mere thought made your stomach tingle and your breath tremble, you were aching for any form of confirmation that it would be okay, okay to have feelings for him. You'd accept anything he'd give you, even if it wasn't everything you yearned for - you'd take anything he was ready to offer.

"... isn't your principle that actions speak louder than words?"

A blink in the darkness. A gasp into the silence. And then he was finally closing the space between your faces.

Lips - soft and pliable, moving against yours. Tender, soft, firm pressure. A kiss that said everything words would never manage to convey. Your fingers clawed into the silky fabric of his shirt, your nose pressed against his jaw, tears brimming and stinging behind your eyes as you sighed deeply, relief crashing over you and bliss taking hold. It could've lasted for eternity and still would've ended too soon as he gently pulled away, leaving one more short, lingering touch to the corner of your lips.

"Now let's rest. We shall continue this discussion in the morning." he murmured tiredly as his hand resumed its massaging, this time brushing underneath the hem of your shirt as he settled back into his initial embrace. You laid in his arms for minutes with your heart still racing, but now you could hear and feel his too, drumming in his chest. Two rhythms, beating in wonderful, chaotic harmony.

"Sweet dreams." you managed to whisper, sleepily and content as his breathing flattened, his static quieted and his hands came to rest unmoving at the curve of your back.

And with a long, final sigh, the Radio Demon drifted into deep, calm, undisturbed sleep.

[yuri-is-online]

Criminally Smooth (Floyd Leech x Yuu)

Floyd might have a concussion, but that doesn't mean he can't recognize true love when he sees it, and that halo the bisexual lighting of this cop car is giving you makes him think he might have a chance.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, based off a meme I saw and the song Bonnie and Clyde by Dutch Melrose. Vaguely modern au, hints of a mafia au? Yuu and Floyd are implied to be adults and full of bad decisions. More fic can be found on my masterlist.

“Hey baby, what's your name?” Floyd's teeth are sharp and his smile is weirdly wide, like he's trying to display his mouth for you. “You come here often? I swear I've seen ya somewhere before…” You take a deep breath trying to ground yourself, the metal of the handcuffs should be painful enough to do the trick but the ridiculousness of Floyd asking that question when you're both going to jail is overriding the discomfort.

“We've met before, yeah.” You grumble trying to shift to get a bit more comfortable as Floyd's eyes get wide as saucers in a way that would be cute if that meeting hadn't been him shaking you down for “interfering” with Azul’s business model.

“Really?” He sounds so happy, and tries to move his hands to do who knows what but gets stopped by the cuffs, which wipes away the facade of kindness as he glares down at them. “Well I must have introduced myself-”

“You did yeah.” You try to cut off whatever it is he has to say and try not to die of embarrassment when it doesn't stop him from babbling.

“I've got your number then right?” Floyd begins wiggling to reach for his back pocket and glares when Officer Clover tells him to knock it off. “You're just so fucking pretty please tell me that wasn't just a dream and I got your number.” Are you even talking to the same person?

“I don't think so?” He whines, whines! When you say that and looks up at you like a kicked puppy. “We uh. We weren't. Didn't get much of a chance to talk.” You shouldn't be flustered by this. Shouldn't be thinking that it's sort of cute how he presses up against the bars separating you in the back of the cruiser to try and get as close to you as possible.

“Aww well let me do it again please?” You nod and try not to fluster when he brings back the dreamy smile places his cuffed hands against the bars. “I'm Floyd, sorry I totaled your car, baby.” It wasn't your car but you know better to say that in something rigged for audio. “You free this Saturday? I wanna make it up to you and I know a real great place-”

“I don't think either of you are going to be free this weekend,” Officer Clover isn't even hiding how much he's enjoying this you really wish you could get away with punching him “sorry Floyd.”

“Ignore Sea Turtle, oh hey I don't know your name do I?” Surprisingly Floyd isn't annoyed at all, he's still keeping his mouth wide and gets even more excited when you begin to subconsciously mimic him. “C'mon what's your name pretty?”

“It's Yuu but you kept calling me-”

“LITTLE SHRIMPY!!!” He shouts so loud Officer Clover slams on the brakes out of shock, Floyd laughs as he tumbles around and you try to brace against the wall. “Dawww ya should have just led with that baby, I wouldn't have rammed ya. Not with a car anyway.” The police cruiser lurches again as you feel the tires hit something, slamming Floyd against the door and tumbling you towards the floor. He bites down on the metal of his cuffs making sure to keep eye contact with you as he chews through the metal, winking like he's putting on some sort of show and not at all surprised or afraid that your ride is spiraling out of control. “Remember, Saturday ok? And don't worry about dressing nice I'll take care of it ♡” His door flies open as Officer Clover scrambles for his radio and Floyd jumps out of the tank into an awaiting vehicle laughing the entire time, yelling a few choice expletives at the police commissioner as he goes. You curl yourself into a tiny ball and chew on the inside of your cheek as you try to process what just happened over the angry squaking you hear on the radio.

There's no way a judge is letting you make bail after this.

[steddiealltheway]

It’s basically canon that Steve gets migraines from the number of times he’s gotten concussions/beat up. Adding on to this…

Everyone has their way of helping Steve.

Robin lays next to him on the floor, holding his hand which he squeezes whenever the pain is too overwhelming.

Dustin - as he puts it - shuts the fuck up for once in his life.

El has found that the tiniest amount of radio static helps clear his head while not causing nausea.

Nancy makes him some sort of fancy chamomile tea.

Eddie… well, he hasn’t been around for one of Steve’s infamous migraines. In fact, he’s only heard about them from the others who say Steve tries to play it off as just a headache - often times leaving to suffer on his own.

Luckily, Steve doesn’t hang out alone with Eddie, so he’s determined his migraine solution would be to leave him with someone else and get out of his way. There’s no way Steve would want him around for that. And there would be nothing he could do to help.

Eddie briefly thinks back to those thoughts when, for the first time, he and Steve hang out alone. Granted, the other kids were there before, but they had all left once it got to be curfew time.

Steve had been acting… strange. More irritable than usual, going as far as snapping at Dustin when he started screaming about something. And really, that should’ve been the first sign for Eddie.

But he had just moved past that, fired up some random movie and let Steve sprawl out next to him on his couch, hands over his eyes, taking deep breaths in and out.

“Steve…?” Eddie questions gently.

He gets a quiet groan in response as Steve slowly drags his hands down his face. His eyes are slightly glossy, and he looks absolutely miserable.

“Steve,” Eddie says more firmly this time.

“I’m gonna head back,” Steve says with a wince. As soon as he stands up, he sways. Eddie steadies him and forces him to sit back down.

He desperately tries to remember what everyone else told him works, but he can’t recall anything.

“What should I do?” Eddie asks.

“No Lights. No Noise. Please,” Steve bites out gripping his head.

Eddie nods and immediately turns the television off. He scrambles to get all the lights off but there’s still a glow from the window which doesn’t have any curtains on it. Eddie looks around for a blanket or anything nearby to shield Steve’s eyes from the lights.

He’s struck with a sudden idea. Eddie sits next to Steve, leans his head forward, and presses it against Steve’s. His hair forms a curtain around them, blocking out the light.

“What are you doing?” Steve asks, breath ghosting over Eddie’s lips.

Oh. Yeah, this is all kinds of invading Steve’s personal space. Shit. “Using my hair as a curtain,” Eddie replies nonchalantly.

Steve does something strange. He smiles. “It oddly helps. Thank you.”

Eddie wishes he had access to his hair so he could use it to cover his smile in response.

It’s nice - sitting so close to Steve, listening and feeling his breathing. But after a few minutes, Eddie’s back starts to cramp up from the awkward twisted position.

Steve must feel the same way because he’s suddenly laying back and pulling Eddie towards him. Eddie scrambles to keep his forehead against Steve’s and ends up laying on top of him.

Shit shit shit. There’s no way Steve is okay with this.

But then Eddie feels Steve’s fingertips tracing circles on his back, as if Steve’s the one soothing Eddie. Maybe he is.

Eddie’s hand comes up to Steve’s arm, trailing his fingers up and down in thanks.

After a while, Steve’s hand stills on Eddie’s back and his breath evens out. When Eddie’s sure that Steve’s asleep, he lifts his head up and shifts it to nestle into Steve’s neck.

A few hours later, Eddie is woken up by the squeak of the front door opening and someone awkwardly clearing their throat. Eddie finds himself to still be mostly on top of Steve who has his arms tightly wrapped around him, still asleep.

Eddie’s heart skips a beat, happy to see him so at peace after last night’s events.

“So… who’s this?” Uncle Wayne says, voice low as to not wake him.

“Steve. I was helping him with his migraine.”

Wayne’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” He teases.

Eddie flushes red unsure if he wants to remove himself from Steve and wake him up in the process, remembering how Nancy had said the migraine episodes could be triggered by a lack of sleep.

“Go back to sleep, Ed. Just… make sure to introduce him to me when he wakes up.”

“It’s not like that…” Eddie argues.

Wayne gives him a look, eyes flickering to where Steve’s arms are wrapped tightly around him, and shakes his head in disbelief. “I give it until morning,” he says with a smile on his face as he goes to his room.

“You’re wrong!” Eddie yells loud enough that he’s scared he’s woken Steve up. He looks back at Steve who softly snores, somehow still asleep. Eddie cuddles back against his side and closes his eyes, praying that his uncle is right.

He’s woken up later either by the hand running through his hair or the dull, quick sound of thudding against his ear. Eddie cracks an eye open, realizing it’s Steve’s hand in his hair and his heart that’s forming the fast rhythm.

“Hey,” Steve says with a small smile.

“Good morning,” Eddie replies immediately closing his eyes and tucking his head back into Steve’s neck to block out the sunlight.

Steve laughs. “Is that how I looked last night behind your hair?”

“Much better actually,” Eddie flirts without thinking.

Steve swallows. “Thank you for that by the way. I’ve never actually been able to sleep after…” he trails off.

His friends were right when they said Steve didn’t talk about it. Eddie squeezes Steve’s arm.

“Anytime,” Eddie says, slightly muffled, but just as sincere.

“Maybe sometime soon?” Steve suggests.

Eddie looks up. “Without you being in excruciating pain?”

Steve nods looking slightly anxious as to what Eddie’s response to the confirmation will be.

Eddie smiles wide and has to hide his face in Steve’s neck again to muffle his excited giggles. Steve joins in on the laughter.

Eddie suddenly feels Steve’s body tense up and his laughter stops.

“Glad to see you awake, would’ve been awkward meeting you while you weren’t conscious,” Wayne says.

Eddie sits up with a groan, swinging his legs over Steve’s and leaning back against the couch. Steve shoots up, trying to look presentable while his legs are trapped straight out in front of him.

“Wayne, this is Steve. Steve, this is my uncle, Wayne.”

Steve holds out his hand and firmly shakes his uncle’s hand. Eddie tries not to laugh at the interaction.

Wayne invites Steve to stay for breakfast, and he does.

After Steve leaves, giving Eddie a quick spontaneous hug, Wayne asks Eddie, “What do I always say?”

Eddie sighs, “The ‘W’ in Wayne doesn’t stand for ‘wrong.’” And thank goodness for that.

“I like him,” Wayne states casually.

“I do, too,” Eddie says with a soft smile.

“Next time, offer him an ice pack, too. That always used to help my migraines.”

Eddie’s smiles grows. Even Uncle Wayne has a migraine solution for Steve.

[scuttling]

Flicker in the Dark - Jacob Black/Reader

Fandom: Twilight Saga Pairings: Jacob Black/Female Reader Word Count: 12,598 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Pining, Unprotected sex, Slightly aged up (Jacob is 20), Fix it fic Summary: My take on New Moon, if all of the characters were a bit more mature and Jacob got his girl. A/N: This is a third-person story that pairs Jacob with a girl who isn't Bella but who fills her role in the story; Bella doesn't exist in this universe because I find she's not as interesting to write as an original character, for me personally. The character has no name and no physical description, so treat her as an OC or a "reader," your choice there. :)

Keep reading below or link to AO3!

Bringing the idea of fixing the bikes to Jacob was the best thing she’s ever done: the best, and one of the dumbest, by far. 

They both have adult obligations now—she has class, and a part-time job, which are thankfully both online, and Jake works full time—so when the stars align and they’re free at the same time, they spend every moment in his garage like a couple of bored kids. They listen to music on his dad’s old radio, eat pizza and tacos standing up much more often than they should; Jacob isn’t twenty-one just yet, but they’re on the rez, so they sip beers sometimes, especially on the rare warm days where the sun shines into the garage and sweat prickles at their hairlines. 

He’s taller at twenty than he was when he was younger, broader and more filled out, like he’d said back on her birthday; she notices, sometimes, things like the tightness of his t-shirts stretched across his back, the way his jeans fit just, extraordinarily well. Those kinds of things you can’t help but notice, even if you’re emotionally, physically, and mentally unavailable, the way she is. 

He pokes fun at her age—forever a sore spot, especially when Edward is and will be twenty-two forever—but she catches him noticing her, too, sometimes, so she’s not a total embarrassment at least.

It doesn’t happen right away, like magic or anything, but hanging out in his garage does make her feel better; he makes her feel better, if she’s being honest with herself. He quiets the chatter in her brain, the anxiety, the self-doubt, and she smiles more when she’s with him, laughs more, gets out of her own head. She’s happier when she’s with him, too, bikes or no bikes—though the roar of the restored motorcycle engine certainly doesn’t hurt—and he’s good for her, there’s no denying that.

She remembers her dad’s advice, even more meaningful now that she’s moved out of his house and living on her own—sometimes, you gotta learn to love what’s good for you—and she even thinks she could, some days. 

That’s easy enough to say to herself, but so, so much harder in practice. She can tell Jacob is… interested, when they go to the movies, with the way he lays his hand on the armrest, palm up, in case she wants to hold it. Part of her wants to, really wants to; part just thinks about Edward and she clams up, can’t do it. She feels guilty, like she’s doing something wrong, even though he left her and not the other way around. 

She still loves him, will always love him, but Edward made his choice; she just wishes she felt free enough to make her own.

She feels guilty when they ride, too, because the one thing he’d asked of her was not to be reckless, and now she goes out of her way to find a rush wherever she can. Anything legal, be it motorcycles, rock climbing, running, skydiving, really, really big roller coasters—you name it, she’s done it, and though none of it ever worked as well as she’d hoped it would, she never stops trying. 

She knows better than to give herself over to things like drugs or binge drinking or meaningless one-night stands, but aside from that the limits to what she will try are almost non-existent. She loves the thrill of it all, loves feeling brave, feeling strong; In the end, she may wind up with a few cuts and bruises, but as long as she’s hurting no one but herself, she doesn’t feel too bad.

When she hurts Jacob, she feels awful, terrible, and she does hurt him—he’s so hurt for a while that he doesn’t want to see her, doesn’t even return her calls. She feels weak for the first time in a long time, like if she’d just been able to be what he wanted, to hold his hand, to kiss him, to get over herself, they both would have been happier. Now she just feels sad, and selfish, hurting the one person who has always been there for her, who’s always eased her pain.

She wants to respect his space, can’t bear the thought of hurting him more than she already has, but her anxiety gets the better of her; no amount of kickboxing or rock climbing has been able to take her mind off of him since that night at the movies, when he left in such a hurry. Even Edward has shifted to the back of her mind, though she has no idea when exactly that happened.

So she goes to him. Against his wishes. In the pouring rain. 

She’s so, so stupid.

He’s so, so shredded, even more so than usual; it’s the first thing she notices only because he’s soaking wet and shirtless and that makes it pretty obvious. The second thing she notices is his hair, no longer long and pulled back with a cord of leather, but cropped short, though inky black as always. The third thing she notices is the tattoo, a large, tribal design on his shoulder that looks well-healed even though she saw him less than a week ago.

She catalogs all of that, and then she remembers he’s avoiding her and that she’s here to ask for forgiveness (she’s willing to beg, but it’s sort of a last resort.)

She calls his name, but he doesn’t turn around at first, not until she’s right in front of him, fists balled angrily at her sides.  

“Jacob, I’m sorry… I’m sorry about the movie. Can we talk about it?” He huffs an unamused laugh, takes half a step closer; that kind of thing used to be playful, but now it seems almost menacing, between the muscles and the tattoo and the deepening frown on his face. 

“This isn’t about that. You–you need to leave. Now.” The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument… but then again, that’s never stopped her before. She steps closer too, more of a challenge than anything.

“Well if it’s not about that, what is it? What happened?” He turns away as if to leave and she reaches for him, fingers latching onto his wrist. She knows right away that when she tugs, and he turns, it’s because he let it happen; there’s no way anyone could force him to do anything now, not with how big he is, how strong, how solid beneath her hand. “Is it Sam? Did he get to you too?” 

“I was wrong about Sam. He’s helping me through it—just like he helped the others,” he says, but it sounds odd to her ears. If something was wrong, if he’d needed help, he would have come to her… right? “I can’t do this right now—you have to go. Please go.” 

Before, he was stern, but this time he’s pleading for her to leave, and that’s just not Jacob—they’d hash it out before he cut her off without so much as a word, instead of ghosting her and making his father lie for him and keeping secrets with Sam Uley.

“Jake,” she pleads too, but instead of tightening her grip on his wrist she brings her hand up to the nape of his neck, to brush through the short hair that lays there, drenched in rainwater. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

He closes his eyes like it pains him, and it very well might; she knows the similarities to the night Edward left are becoming almost too much for her to bear. 

Maybe that’s why she came here, after all, because she could, because at least she still knew where she could find him. Because even if he didn’t want to talk to her, at least she’d know he was okay. 

“I’m not doing this to you, I’m doing it for you. I’m not who you thought I was, I’m not good for you. You can’t be around me anymore.” 

Fuck that, she thinks immediately, because she is so absolutely tired of people telling her what she can and can’t do, what she’s strong enough for, what’s safe. 

She doesn’t want safe. All she wants is Jacob. 

“I decide what’s good for me; I decide,” she says, voice raised and rough, jabbing a finger in his direction, and he grabs both of her forearms and holds them between them. He looks like he wants to shake her, he’s so frustrated, but his grip isn’t tight. “You think you’re going to hurt me, or something? Because look at us, Jake.” Her gaze moves to his hands on her, holding her still but doing it gently, carefully. “It’s okay. You won’t hurt me, I know it.” 

He drops her arms like she’s burned him, like he didn’t even realize he was holding them, and takes two steps back, away from her.

“You’re right, I won’t—because you can’t ever come here again.” 

He turns and runs to Sam and the other guys, leaving her standing in the rain, soaked and alone, her stomach in knots. The chatter is back, the self-doubt, louder than ever now; if they could both do this, both leave her so easily, would she ever be enough for anyone?

She’s not sitting around her house moping about this, not again. She did that with Edward and it got her absolutely nowhere, so this time she resolves to just skip to the front of the line. She packs a bag for the trail and goes hiking, plans to take a long path deep into the woods, away from the bear attacks or whatever’s going on out there. Her dad would have her head if she walked headfirst into danger, and she knows better, anyway, isn’t going to actually risk her life just to get Rocky Mountain high. 

She hadn’t planned on risking her life, anyway, but how was she to know the formerly peaceful Laurent was back in Forks, red eyes and all, and that he was working with Victoria? That wasn’t on her supernatural drama bingo card, that’s for damn sure. 

She listens to him do the villain rambling for a moment, but irritation wins out over fear and she loses her temper, slips up and says that Edward is gone and he’s not coming back, and if he wants to kill her, well no one’s stopping him! 

He looks amused by her outburst, but the smile melts off of his face when an enormous black wolf steps out of the trees, followed by several others of all shades, shapes, sizes. She doesn’t get a chance to count them, just runs like hell in the other direction, but when she risks a look back they are going after Laurent with a precision she wouldn’t expect from wild animals just looking for dinner. 

She tells no one about the wolves—who would believe her anyway?—just runs back to her truck until she’s breathless, goes home and takes a steaming hot shower to rinse away the cold clamminess of his touch. She makes a cup of tea and changes into a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, then parks herself on the couch with her laptop for the rest of the night. 

Until the knock at the door that comes around 1 AM. 

It’s Jacob, and she’s so happy to see him that she forgets all about her day up until that point and wraps her arms around him, hugs him where he stands in the doorway. He hugs back, thank god, his embrace tight and warm and comforting, and then she ushers him in, offers to make more tea while they talk. 

“About the other day,” she begins, filling the electric kettle with water and plugging it in, but he cuts her off, panicked. 

“I wish I could explain,” he says, and he’s almost got those puppy dog eyes that always get him his way; he doesn’t even do it on purpose, just looks like that, and it’s incredibly hard to resist. “But I literally can’t.” 

“No, I know, I… I mean, I think I know.” She has a box of tea in her hand and she’s gesturing a bit wildly with it, so she sets it on the counter, walks closer to him, so there’s about a foot of space between them. “First rule of fight club is you can’t talk about fight club—wait, it’s not an actual fight club, right? Because you’d dominate.” 

He laughs, a real one, with his head thrown back, and she all but grins. There he is. Her Jacob. 

“No, it’s not a fight club, but you’re right. I can’t talk about it, I can’t tell you anything.” His tone of voice hurts her, because it’s clear this is something he wants, needs to share; she moves closer, eyes on his.

“And what if I guess? Is that against the rules?” He shakes his head fervently, rests his palm on the counter beside him.

“No, no—in fact, that’s exactly what I need you to do. Sam can’t stop you, and I know you, you’re smart, won’t stop until you figure it out.”  He reaches out with his other hand, tentatively, and links their fingers together like he did at the movies; when he brings their hands up to his chest, this time, she doesn’t pull away. “It would be so much easier if you knew.”

His face is so soft but so serious, his brow furrowed, and she squeezes his hand.

“I’m going to feel really silly if I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am. I’ve been working on it all night.” With her free hand, she pulls her phone out of her pocket, shows him the same screen she has up on her laptop in the other room. It’s a list of all the facts she has, her own speculation, and finally, in size 42 font, one very important eight-letter word. “You said before that Sam was collecting disciples—a pack of them, Jacob, right?” 

“Yes. Fuck,” he breathes, and though she’s heard him say it in the garage many times, this one is special because it means she’s right. He slides down to a seat on the tile floor, looks so relieved it makes her chest feel tight, and she kneels in front of him, hands on his bare shoulders. 

“You’re a werewolf, Jake, just like the legend—your tribe is descended from wolves. Tell me I’m wrong.” 

He doesn’t say a word, and at first she’s afraid she is incorrect, but then he reaches out and pulls her close, crushes her to his body. He breathes hard into her hair, holds her tightly, and she can’t help it, she cries, hot tears leaving tracks down her cheeks.

He brings his hands there after a moment, wipes the tears away with his thumbs, then holds her face like she’s something precious, lips turning up into a half-smile.

“Thank you. I knew you could do it.” He tips forward, presses their foreheads together, moves his hands to her waist. “You don’t know how badly I wanted you to know.”

“Oh, Jake. I’m sorry—I should have caught on faster. It’s obvious, when you put everything together, when you… You know. When you’ve seen what I’ve seen.” He nods his head and swallows, presses his fingertips into her side. She shifts closer, or he does, maybe they both do, so their breath mixes between them, soft and warm.

“It’s okay, you’re here now. You’re here, it's okay,” he repeats, and she pushes fingers through his hair, softer now that it’s dry. 

“I’m here, and I don’t have to stay away.”

They don’t quite kiss, because she’s still nervous, maybe even more so now—they were so close to being separated, and now that he’s back in her life, in her house, she doesn’t want to risk breaking this delicate, fragile thing between them. His mouth just brushes over hers, more a swipe than a press of lips, and she turns her head so the rest of it catches her cheek instead. 

He sighs, but he’s not upset, and he lifts a hand to smooth through her hair before dropping it altogether. 

“I should go,” he says, but she can’t bear the thought of losing him again already. She stands when he does, takes his hand the way he did before. 

“Can you stay the night? Please?” She squeezes his fingers, tries her hand at her own version of those sad puppy eyes. “I understand if you can’t, but I’d feel… I want you to,” she’s clear to say, and eventually, he nods. 

She makes up a bed for him on the sofa, intends to head upstairs when he’s comfortable; she doesn’t know what stops her, but she stretches out on the other end of the couch instead and they put on a movie, something black and white, volume low. She couldn’t say for sure who’s the first to fall asleep.

She’s the first to wake up, so she takes a quick shower, does some work, brews some coffee. He’ll probably head out the moment his feet hit the floor, so she prepares herself for that—she just hopes that the rest of his pack knows he’s there, that they aren’t worried, or frantically searching the preserve for signs of him like she would be. 

She asks him that when he pads into the kitchen an hour later, eyes sleepy, bedhead evident, and he pours a cup of coffee and sits across from her at the table. 

“Nah, they knew I was coming,” he assures with a sip. “They know by now that if they can’t find me, I’m probably here with you.” That makes her smile, though she looks down into her mug and tries not to show it. He takes a few more quick gulps despite the temperature and sets down his empty cup with a smack of his lips. “Speaking of the pack, I think you should meet them. We gather at Emily’s—that’s Sam’s fiancee—sometimes, and they’ll be there today.”

“Will they be angry that I figured it out?” she asks, genuinely curious. She wants to meet them, wants to know more about the group of guys Jacob is now supernaturally entangled with, but she’s not so sure a house of angry werewolves is somewhere she’s ready to be so soon after her last brush with death. He breathes a laugh and shakes his head. 

“They won’t be angry. They’ll probably be irritated with me, because I couldn’t just let you go…” Their eyes meet, and she thinks of reaching out to touch his hand across the table, though she doesn’t in the end. “But as for you, they’ll probably just be impressed.”

The pack is both impressed by her and slightly irritated with Jacob, but stern glances and eye rolls quickly turn to laughter and playful shoving, as they pile into Emily’s small but cozy kitchen and make introductions around a batch of fresh muffins.

She gets official confirmation on things she’d only read about—like their ability to hear each other’s thoughts when shifted, the accelerated healing, their speed, their power—right from the wolves' mouths, and they learn from her too, everything she knows about vampires like Laurent and Victoria. She doesn’t talk much about the Cullens, mostly because their secrets are not hers to tell, but she can see Jacob’s brain working as she mentions Victoria’s vendetta, as she shows the group the pale, silvery bite mark on her arm. 

“If she’s here, she’s here for me,” she tells them, and Jake tenses, his jaw tight, veins visible, shoots Sam a look that conveys they have a lot to talk about when she’s not around. 

Later, she suggests to Jacob that he take a walk with her, because she can tell how all of those stories have put him on edge. Together they amble slowly toward the beach, close but not touching, and this time she does take his hand, leans in so their forearms brush. 

“It’ll be okay,” she murmurs, tilting her head to look up at him. “You guys are strong, fast. You took down Laurent—I have no doubts you’ll get her too.” 

“Before she hurts you?” he says, staring ahead, voice rough because he’s been mostly silent all day, listening closely to her and taking everything in. “Because if she does…” 

“She won’t. The others are watching her,” she says, hoping like hell that’s still true, “and even if she finds me… I trust you to protect me.” He stops there, on the wet sand, and she turns toward him so she can see his expression, to get a better idea of what’s on his mind. 

“If they come back, I’m not allowed to fight on their land—I’d be breaking the treaty,” he says with a pained look. She understands the words he’s not saying: if they come back, I wouldn’t be able to protect you in your own home.

“They’re not coming back,” she whispers, because she can’t say the words any louder than that, even though they’re true.  “He made his choice, and that’s—that’s okay.” 

“Is it?” Jacob asks, leaning in, and she gets it, gets why; she hasn’t exactly been positive about Edward’s departure, how his choice affected her, took his family away from her too, and now suddenly she’s okay with it?

It isn’t sudden, though, not really. It’s been a gradual acceptance, something she’s been coming to terms with since the day he left. She knows Edward’s decision wasn’t made easily; she knows he didn’t leave because he didn’t love her, but because he loved her so much he put aside his feelings for her and did what he thought was right. 

He went about it all the wrong way, removing every trace of himself from her life, banning his family from communicating with her, taking her choices away, but in the end his heart was in the right place, and she’s found a way to respect that, despite everything. 

Maybe it’s just Jacob. He brought her out of her post-breakup shell, made her smile again, laugh again, feel important and wanted and cared for. Maybe he filled in the cracks of her broken heart so she could use it again, without the need for exhilaration and adrenaline to cover up the pain of what she’s lost; maybe it’s just Jacob, bright like the sun they so seldom see, special and rare and wild. 

“It’s okay,” she assures him, voice steady with her conviction. She raises their conjoined hands and presses her lips to his knuckles, just briefly, before dropping them back to her side. 

Jake nods, accepts her answer, and they walk further along the beach until the sun goes down in a hazy blend of blue and orange and red.

He offers to drive her home, and even though it’s impractical, and she’d usually put up a fight, she wants that extra time with him. Wants to be that close to him. She sits in the middle of the bench seat, neither up against him nor really on the passenger’s side, but close enough for Jake to throw an arm across her shoulders, and they listen to the radio and talk about his pack while cruising down the road. 

“I better go,” he murmurs before she can even unlock her front door, and she tries not to let her face fall; she’d been hoping he’d stay over again, or come inside for a little bit, at least. 

She must fail at controlling her expression, because Jacob smiles softly, like he’s pleased with himself, and leans in, brushing his fingers over the line of her jaw. 

“We’re patrolling tonight—got a vampire to kill. But I’ll call you tomorrow?” 

She nods beneath his touch, and he pulls back and turns to leave, jogging down the street and toward the forest that’ll lead him back to La Push.

He does call the next day, but it’s brief; Victoria’s back, just as Sam expected, so they’re running all night, all day, trying to catch her off guard, taking breaks only to eat and sleep when they absolutely have to. Jacob promises to check in when he can, but after three days with no contact—and a voicemail from her father about locals spotting wolves in the woods—she’s on edge again, less concerned for her own safety, more worried about Jake’s. 

She’s an absolute idiot for doing it—going to the beach, to the tall cliffs that loom over it—but she needs the rush again, doesn’t feel right when it’s just her own troubled voice in her head. She needs to hear the purr of an engine, the hum of a plane, the crashing of pure, white water against rocks… or maybe Jacob’s heartbeat. But the cliffs are the simple option at the moment, and all she can think about until she’s actually there, looking out over the ocean, the gritty scents of sand and salt in her nose. 

She takes several deep, long breaths. That’s the key to these things that bring her so much excitement—using all of her senses, so she’s not just herself but everything around her too. She needs to see the sun on the horizon, taste the spray of seawater and clean, crisp air. She needs to smell the damp earth, touch the frothy bubbles that lap at the shore, hear…

She hears a wolf, actually, howling solemnly in the distance, but doesn’t register the sound until after she’s already jumped. 

The waves are choppier than they’d appeared when she was looking down at them, and it knocks the breath out of her lungs when they crash into her body, pulling her down into the dark vastness of the icy sea. Her arms and legs move instinctively, fighting to bring her back to the surface, but the water is deep and heavy and she’s already so tired of trying. 

She’s so cold all she can feel is cold, her teeth chattering, so even when she hits her head on a boulder and it starts to bleed, she doesn’t realize what’s happened until everything turns black.

She’s warmer, suddenly, that’s all she knows, though the ground beneath her back is rocky and wet, uncomfortable. She thinks maybe it’s a blanket that feels so warm, but quickly realizes it’s Jacob above her, soaked to his bones, a sigh of relief passing his lips. 

“Oh thank god. Can you hear me?” He cradles the back of her head in his palm and helps her sit up, then presses his fingers tenderly to the sore bump beneath her hair. “Your head’s not that bad, but I bet it hurts.” 

“Hmm. Hurts,” she mumbles, her throat raw, temples throbbing. She’s cold and tired and thirsty, but ashamed above all else; maybe she really does need someone making the decisions for her, if this is the kind of stupidity she gets up to when she’s alone. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he answers quickly, and he runs his hands over her arms and legs, her neck, her face, checking for further injury. “I’m just glad you’re alright. The waves are bad today; you could have been swept away.” 

“I didn’t realize that until it was too late,” she admits sheepishly, and when he brings her closer she rests her cheek against his chest, feels tears stinging her already tired eyes. “I’m sorry, Jacob.” 

“It’s okay, I’m here. It’s okay.” His voice is as soft as his hands as they curve around her, holding her against him, and they sit like that for a couple minutes, until Sam runs over and tells him to get her home. 

He drives again, but this time she’s even more grateful, because there’s no way she could have done it herself. She feels so much at once—dumb and scared and childish, but also brave and calm, while somehow her mind races with thoughts of the wolves howling and Jacob’s hands in her hair. Her focus is shot, and even though she’s wrapped in one of Jake’s thick, fleece lined hoodies, she trembles, heavy and cold, as she peers out the passenger side window, watching the trees go by.

“Hundred and eight degrees over here,” Jacob says eventually, with a half smile, and she blinks for a moment before giving in; with a sigh, she scoots closer, wraps an arm around his waist. She can feel the heat of his body even through the layers they wear, and she shivers involuntarily at the pleasant but abrupt change in temperature.

“You still want me this close? Not afraid the bad decisions will rub off onto you?” It’s a joke, a self-deprecating one, and an apology all bundled together. “What I did was stupid, I know. I could have gotten really hurt, and you should have been out there with the pack, with Harry, not saving me.” 

He tilts his head, leans closer so his cheek rests against her hair.

“Well it wasn’t smart, but we all have our moments. And you couldn’t have known about Harry—don’t be too hard on yourself.” A long beat of silence passes, and she turns toward him, pressing her icy nose to his neck with another sigh.

“Mmm. You’re so warm. It must be nice, never getting cold.” 

“It’s a wolf thing,” he says with a shrug, but it’s not, not really, and she can’t let that stand. 

“Maybe, but trust me, it’s a Jacob thing too. You’ve always been warm.” She just sits there, breathes him in, lets him warm her hands and nose, so content she almost doesn’t notice when he pulls up in front of her house.

“This is better. Now that you know about me,” he says, tipping his face down, after he turns off the truck. She pulls back just enough to look into his eyes, to try to gauge his intent.

“But?” He swallows hard, looks away for a moment before returning to her face.

“You saw what happened to Emily. Sam got angry, lost it for a split second, and Em was standing too close. He’ll never be able to take that back.” He shakes his head, as if imagining the two of them in the same situation. What he could do to her. What she would think of him. “What if I get mad and I hurt you?” 

“You’re new to this—even if you are a natural,” she says, remembering a comment Embry had made when they’d last spoken. “You’ll learn how to control it, how to read the warning signs, and you’ll either stop yourself from turning or get somewhere safe. We’ll be okay,” she promises, resting her hand soothingly against his neck, and he sighs softly.

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m gonna disappear. Like one day it will be all wolf and no Jake.” He leans in, close enough that their noses just barely brush, and the way he looks down at her is something like… 

Yearning, she thinks to herself after a beat. It’s a powerful emotion, but she’s never seen it look quite so beautiful before. 

“You’re not going to lose yourself. I won’t let that happen.” 

“How?” he asks, bringing a hand up to cover hers, and she wets her lips, shakes her head to clear it; it’s swimming again, in this small space, so very close to him—especially when he’s looking at her like that.

“I’ll tell you all the time… how special you are to me.” She looks up, feels like she’s showing her soul to him, like this incident has stripped her down to bare bones and she’s letting him see her, once and for all. He stares into her eyes for a long moment, then leans in slowly, tentatively, and this time she doesn’t stop herself from meeting him in the middle, from pressing her mouth to his. 

She can actually feel the relief wash over him when she doesn’t reject his kiss, like he’s been tightly coiled and tense and can finally relax because she wants the same things, feels the same way.

She expects his lips to be warm, soft, but he is scorching against her skin, even more so when he moves his hand to her cheek in a gentle caress. With the palm against his hip, she pushes up his t-shirt, gets her fingers on his body, and they both gasp softly into the kiss, deepen it. 

“Jacob,” she sighs when they part for air; he seems okay, if a little shaky, but she feels flushed, eager, almost vibrating with the need to keep kissing him. She wants more, even though her throat burns like the last time his lips touched hers, when he forced the water out of her lungs and saved her life. 

That’s what he does best, her Jacob—like a flicker in the dark, he always pulls her away from the dangers of her own making and brings her back into the light.

“Is this real?” he asks, his breath a ghost on her lips; his other hand, on her lower back, pulls her closer to his body, and she turns her head and kisses the palm resting on her cheek. 

They kiss again, hands a bit less careful, hers sliding up his back, his weaving into her hair to control the tilt of her head. She gives in to it all, lets him set the pace, gripping him like a life preserver and letting his heat warm her from the inside out. She feels like she can’t get possibly close enough, wants to be pressed skin to skin, but she settles for sliding into his lap, ducking her head so she doesn’t hit it on the metal roof of the truck. 

He groans as she twists fingers into his hair, as she pulls him into her and feels the long, hard line of his body against hers. She kisses faster, harder, and he matches her fervor, wraps an arm around her waist and catches her chin with tight fingers. 

They kiss for a long time, and the cabin heats, windows fogging up as they share breath and saliva, as they murmur each other’s names like prayer. Her lips are red and raw when she finally needs to pause, and she rests her head against his chest and listens to the thunderous, wild beating of his heart. 

“Will you stay the night? Please?” she asks, voice a little broken—rough with need, and soreness from nearly drowning, and breathlessness caused by the most intense kiss of her entire life. 

Jacob nods, and he sets her carefully back on the seat, removes the keys from the ignition and climbs out of the truck. She slides out behind him, and he closes the door, takes her hand in his just like she did on the beach.

He locks the front door behind them when they’re finally inside—as if that will stop anyone we need to worry about, she teases with a soft laugh—and she takes the lead, walks up the stairs toward her bedroom with Jacob trailing behind. 

Despite his surreal body heat and the thick, warm sweatshirt he’d given her to wear, she’s still cold down to her bones, and wet like a drowned rat, so she pulls off her shoes and socks and sets them down by the radiator. Jacob watches her every move from a couple steps away, eyes lingering as she shrugs out of his hoodie, then pulls her damp sweater over her head. 

There’s nothing sexy or seductive about it, it’s not a striptease by any means, but he doesn’t look away when she’s down to her bra, and she doesn’t want him to. He bends down to take off his boots, to line them up next to hers, then bridges the distance between them and leans in for a deep, slow kiss. 

It’s not long before they both sink down onto the bed, and her fingers slip open the button of her jeans, then hesitate, wait at the button of his. She looks up at him, and the confirmation is all but written there, in the darkness of his eyes, the swipe of his tongue over his lips, but she needs to be sure. 

“I want you, all of you,” she murmurs, and then she brushes a hand through his hair, leans in to just rest her mouth against his. It’s delicate like the first time, but full of meaning, and he presses up into her kiss. “Do you want this?” 

“I want this. You. All—all of you.” He nods, licks his lips again, eyes softer but no less hungry, and she flicks open the button and kisses him like she did in the truck: hands on his body, in his hair, her breath all his. 

They don’t part, not really, just fall back against the pillows and tug at clothing, pressing kisses to throats and palms. His t-shirt drops to the bedroom floor, then her jeans and underwear, his, and the room is quiet except for the sounds of eager, wet kisses and soft, needy moans. 

She sits up, reaches back to unclasp her bra, and Jacob drags the strap down her shoulder, helps her take it off, leaving it somewhere in the bed; his mouth moves to hers, then down her neck, over her collarbone, and finally caresses each nipple with a gentle reverence that makes her ache all over.  

“You’re still sure?” he asks when she is shaking beneath his touch, strong arms wrapped around her back, and she nods and shifts up into his lap. 

When their lips meet, the kiss is hard, and she curls an arm around his shoulders, weaving a hand into his hair. They’re both panting when she leans up, guides him inside her, and when she sinks down it’s like a flash of tingling heat takes over her entire body. 

Jacob groans, holding her securely, thrusting up as she works her thighs above him. They kiss, deep and messy, graceless but passionate, her fingers tugging, his pressing hard into her skin. 

It’s not at all how she’d expected her first time to be; she’d imagined it would be with Edward, of course, and slow, but she can’t get enough of Jacob and it seems like he can’t get enough of her either. She’d imagined a cool, pale body above her, but it’s Jacob’s deep, rich, hot skin she presses her lips to, her fingernails against. She’d expected Edward’s hard, marble arms around her, and while Jacob is strong and firm he’s still soft, skin slick with sweat as they move together. 

“Jake,” she murmurs, the taste of him on her lips, his scent in her nose, woodsy, clean. “Jacob.” Her body trembles and he holds her tighter, presses his face into her neck. 

“I’ve got you.” She sighs happily at that, grabs his hair more roughly, rides him faster. 

“You’ve got me. You’ve always got me.” 

Jacob looks up at her, eyes fiery, liquid, then pulls her in with a hand on the back of her neck and kisses her like the first time—soft, nervous, sweet. The juxtaposition of that gentle kiss and his possessive grip makes her dizzy, and when he pulls back his face is all she can see, all she wants to see, all she needs.

“I’ve always got you,” he promises, his gaze tender, unflinching. “Always.”

He’s got her when he comes, holding her tightly with one thick forearm and dragging his free hand over her breasts, then lower, to rub her clit as she bounces herself to climax in his grasp. “Oh, god,” she breathes, voice like a shiver, and her fingernails dig half-moons into his biceps as they both slow, slow, slow, then stop altogether.

He eases them both down against the bed, arms around her, their legs entwined, and they catch their breath, just look at each other until the exhaustion of the day catches up to her. Her eyes flutter closed, and pressed so close to him, so warm, all she can do is sleep.

When she wakes, it’s still mostly dark, and she desperately needs to clean up in the bathroom and get a glass of water. Jacob’s t-shirt is the first piece of clothing she sees—or the first she wants to see—and she pulls it over her head and pads to the bathroom for a human moment—a very human moment indeed. 

She pauses, while washing her hands, to look over her reflection in the mirror. Rationally, she knows nothing has really changed, but at the same time everything has. 

The bathroom water is never cold enough to drink, so she treads down the stairs, across the kitchen, turns on the tap and lets it run until the water is icy and crisp. She fills a glass, takes a couple of sips, then almost drops it when a cool hand is suddenly pressed to her shoulder. 

It’s Alice, and she uses her other hand to catch the glass before it can hit the floor and shatter. 

“Relax. It’s just me.” Her eyes are soft, and it’s clear she is happy to see her, but there’s something else in her expression, something inquisitive. “You’re alright.”

“I’m fine. I’m… good, actually.” She shrugs, which bares her shoulder, in the large t-shirt she wears, that she’d forgotten she was wearing. She freezes—she knows how she must smell to Alice, like Jacob and like… Jacob—but her friend just shakes her head. 

“I couldn’t see you; well, I saw you jump off a cliff, and then you were gone. I thought you died.” 

“Alive and well,” she says with a tone that’s hoping for lighthearted, but… 

She has no regrets about being with Jacob, not one—she just hadn’t expected to be confronted with a vampire she once considered a sister almost immediately after. She doesn’t know what to say right now, how to act. Who to be.

“I was cliff jumping, recreationally. It was fun... for a minute.” Alice rolls her eyes, but it’s clear she’s happy she’s unharmed—though perhaps irritated by her tendency toward life-threatening idiocy.

“That doesn’t explain why I couldn’t see you, why your whole future went black.” Her golden eyes stare seriously, unblinking for a moment, and then she looks away. “Though maybe I owe that to the wolf in your bed.” 

Of all the nights for Alice to come back to Forks, she thinks, a suddenly uncomfortable pit in her stomach. Then she hears footsteps on the stairs.

“Not in her bed anymore,” Jacob says, voice low, from the doorway to the kitchen; he takes half a step forward, an aborted move, like he wants to put himself in between them. 

“This is Alice, Edward’s sister. Alice, this is Jacob,” she explains, trying not to focus on his shirtless torso, or the pained expression on his face. She blows out a deep breath. “It’s okay. She won’t hurt me.” 

“She’s hurt you before,” he counters, no doubt remembering every heartbroken, aching expression she’d worn in the months prior. He takes a step closer, so he is next to her, his forearm grazing hers, and Alice takes a step back. “I’d like to stick around, if it’s all the same to you.” 

He’s posturing, that much is clear, but she can't find it in herself to be irritated, because at least he’s giving her the option, letting her choose.

“I thought you couldn’t protect me here,” she says, turning her face up to look at him, and Jacob’s response makes heat pool low in her belly, just like the night before. 

“There is nowhere in this world I won’t protect you—treaty or no treaty.” 

She wants so badly to kiss him, but Alice is there, Alice, right in front of her after all this time, and she’s conflicted. Torn. He can tell, she knows, but he doesn’t take it personally, just reaches up to scratch his head, sighs. 

“So are more of you coming? Is–is he…?” 

“I came alone. And no,” Alice replies after a moment, but she’s looking at her instead, probably knows that he’s just saying what she’s too worried to ask. “He only calls in once every few months. Says he wants to be alone.” Jacob scoffs.

“Great. He wants to be alone, so you all leave her behind, unprotected? That red headed vampire is after her because of him.” 

That gets a reaction out of Alice, whose eyes darken protectively.

“Who, Victoria? I haven’t seen her.” She stares off into the distance, like she’s searching for memories, visions, sifting through what she’s seen and trying to piece together what she hasn’t. “Just like I didn’t see you get pulled out of the water. There’s a lot I haven’t seen, apparently,” she adds under her breath, and the other girl presses her lips together, sighs. 

Not the time or place for this discussion, and they both know it, but that doesn’t mean it’s avoidable for long. 

“So you can’t see around Jacob. The wolves,” she guesses. “I’ve been with them a lot lately.”

“With him a lot lately,” Alice corrects. Jacob huffs, but it’s not untrue, so she lets her think what she wants. Her silence must speak volumes, because Alice takes a deep, wholly unnecessary breath, and gestures toward the door. “Should I go?” 

“Please don’t,” she says quickly, nearly begging. It’s the first she’s seen of Alice in almost a year and she cannot let her leave as abruptly as she’d shown up. “If you could just give us a minute…” 

“Take two,” the vampire says, and it’s with a half-smile that turns into a smirk. “I’ll go Febreze the living room while I wait: it smells like wet dog.” She turns to leave, a bounce in her step that the other girl can’t help laughing at, shaking her head. 

She sobers up when Jacob turns toward her, takes a step that moves the both of them, so her back is pressed up against the kitchen counter. He looks so serious, and her heart beats for him everywhere. 

“Do you believe her? When she says she came alone?” he asks, and she tilts her head, nods softly. 

“Of course I believe her. She just had to make sure I was okay, that’s all. There’s… there’s nothing for them here.” 

Even as she says the words, she hopes they’re not true—hopes that, even if they really aren’t meant to be together, that she and Edward, she and the Cullens, can still be… Friends isn’t really a strong enough word, but she wants them in her life, potential bloody accidents be damned. 

“So if he came back,” Jacob says, leaning in closer, his lips hovering over hers, “you wouldn’t go to him?” His tone is light, but she understands the weight of his question, takes a moment to find the right words to answer it. 

“If he came back, I’d want to see him. Just like I want to see Alice.” She reaches out to touch him, his warm, bare skin, places her palm over his thumping heart. “But I wouldn’t go to him. Not like this.” 

It’s true, and she wants to say more, to promise him, reassure him, but just after she says it, the landline rings. Jacob sighs, his breath on her cheek, and reaches out a hand to answer it. “Hello?” The person on the other end speaks in a low tone she can’t make out, but she can see the tick in Jacob’s jaw, a hard set to his eyes. “He isn’t here right now, but that’s not who you really want, is it?” 

There’s another moment of conversation she can’t hear, and Alice walks into the room looking stunned; Jacob hands the other girl the receiver, and she looks from him to Alice and then speaks into the phone. “Hello?” 

“You’re alright.” 

It’s Edward, his voice cool and smooth but thick with emotion. It makes butterflies flutter around in her stomach, just like it used to. 

“I’m alright.” She doesn’t give him more than he asks for, doesn’t take more than he offers. She’s aware of two sets of eyes on her, feels more nervous than before, in her oversized t-shirt and sleep-mussed hair.

She’s glad he can’t see her and wonders exactly what that means.

“Good. Rosalie said Alice had a vision…” He trails off, but they both know what he’s not saying: everyone thought she’d given up and killed herself. She crosses her arms.

“The vision was incomplete. I’m fine. Stupid, but fine.” Edward huffs a laugh down the line, and she can imagine the exact cant of his mouth, the glimmer in his eye that always seemed to be reserved for her.

“You are many things, but stupid is not one of them.” There’s more he wants to say, she can tell; as a man of few words, many of their conversations were punctuated with heavy, meaningful silence. Part of her wishes she could see his face, at least. That always helped. “Who answered the phone? Jacob?”

She looks up at him involuntarily, notes the tightness of his mouth, his arms folded in front of his bare chest. 

“Yes, Jacob. He’s the one who pulled me out of the water, the one Alice didn’t see.” 

“Hmm. He still doesn’t seem to like me much.” Her lips turn up at that—understatement of the century—and she wonders if Jake can hear him too. Based on the stoic expression he wears, he either can’t, or he’s not paying attention. 

“No he does not.” A beat passes, then two. “You should call your family more often, go see them. They miss you.” 

“It’s difficult,” he says, swallowing, and she nods at no one. 

“I know, but don’t punish them. Please.” She knows how it feels, to be totally cut off from people she loves, to constantly wonder, always fear the worst; she doesn’t say it because she knows he knows.

“I’ll consider it, if you don’t go jumping off those cliffs any time soon.” She laughs softly, surprised at his humor; this was not how she would have ever anticipated a call like this to go, but she likes it. Likes them, like this. 

“Deal. Alice is looking at me like she’s going to steal the phone any moment,” she warns, which is putting it mildly. “So I’m going to put her on. You can call when it’s not life or death, you know,” she adds quietly. “It would be nice to hear from you. If you ever want to talk.” 

She doesn’t know if he responds, because Alice takes the receiver, winds the cord around her arm, and scolds her brother with love in the way only a sister can manage. 

While they talk, she walks toward Jacob, then past him, toward the staircase, but she takes hold of his hand as she goes, and he follows just like the night before. This time, he closes the bedroom door behind them. 

“I’m sorry this happened like this,” she says, sitting down on the bed, one leg beneath her and the other hanging over the edge. “I’m not sorry Alice is here, but I’m sorry that’s what you woke up to. If you were… worried.” Jacob takes the space next to her atop the rumpled duvet. 

“I was worried when I smelled a bloodsu- vampire,” he corrects quickly, “and you weren’t beside me.”

“I’m sorry,” she says again, this time leaning closer. “But thank you for giving me the phone, letting me talk to him. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.” He shrugs, like it was no big deal, even though she remembers how angry he’d looked at the sound of Edward’s voice. 

“I almost didn’t. I mean, technically, he didn’t ask for you.” She rolls her eyes—definitely guy logic—then stands up, scoops his jeans off the floor and hands them over to him. Her face heats at the memory of removing them in the first place, but she snaps out of that for her own sake and grabs fresh clothes, steps into the bathroom to make herself presentable.

When she’s done, she heads back to her bedroom, where Jacob is now clad in jeans and boots, sitting shirtless on her bed. She deposits the borrowed t-shirt onto his lap, and when he thinks she’s not looking he brings it to his nose, inhales long and slow, before pulling it over his head.

That action does things to her, and she wishes for a moment that she had his senses, so she could smell the two of them the same way he does, their scents deeply saturated and blended together.

They head downstairs when they’re both dressed, and while he rummages in the refrigerator for something to make them for breakfast, she treads into the living room and sits down next to Alice on the couch. 

“So,” Alice says, and then she gestures to a cup of tea. The other girl picks up the mug and thanks her, brings it to her lips. “How long has that been going on?” 

She feels her cheeks heat, and she hides behind another sip of tea. 

“Really? I haven’t seen you in almost a year and that’s what you want to talk about?” 

“Oh, forgive me for being curious about what it’s like to date a werewolf when last I saw you were grieving the loss of my brother.” Alice’s tone is more playful than it would seem, and her eyes smile even if her lips don’t. 

She always knew that Edward wasn’t telling the truth when he said he didn’t want her. He just couldn’t bear it, knowing that being with him put her in so much danger, caused her so much pain. She knew it was worth it, but if he didn’t… there’s nothing she could have done to change his mind, she knows that now. She can’t feel guilty for moving on when it’s exactly what he’d wanted her to do in the first place. 

“Okay, you’re right. Let’s talk about how I’m going to comb the woods, find Victoria, and rip her into confetti for threatening to hurt you.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Jacob says, walking into the room with… a cup of tea. He looks over at the mug in her hand, then sets the one he brought her down on the table without a word. “The pack’s got it covered.” 

“All due respect, but if the pack had it covered, she wouldn’t be a threat anymore, would she?” Alice tosses over her shoulder. The other girl sets her tea down and sighs. 

“Alright, can we not do this? The age-old vampires versus werewolves thing? Especially if I’m in the middle of it. Maybe you guys could work together for a change; Alice can’t protect this part of the territory all by herself.” She picks up her drink—a drink, the one Jacob made, this time—and takes a long sip, looks up at them over the rim of the mug. 

“The pack could help, if you give us the authority to amend the treaty,” Jacob says to Alice, though he’s kind of looking at the ceiling, his arms crossed. “But wherever she is, I’ll be.” 

“You can’t be with her every second,” Alice counters, and her exasperation makes it  sound like an argument she’s had before. “It’s not good for either of you and could put her in danger; if Victoria picks up on it, she’ll be able to use your scent to track her anywhere. Trust me, yours is a lot stronger than hers is, and it’s all over her.” 

She thinks Jacob makes some kind of noise, like a low growl in the very back of his throat, but it’s hard to hear. Alice raises her eyebrows like she’s trying not to roll her eyes. 

The three of them discuss potential ways to coordinate with the pack, and Alice mentions calling in Emmett and Jasper to see if they could help with the search; the sooner Victoria is gone, the better, is the general consensus, and Jacob thinks he can get Sam on board with that as well, even if it means more Cullens coming back to town. 

She finishes both cups of tea, then a plate of eggs and toast Jacob put together from the bare-bones contents of her kitchen—she reminds herself to make a shopping list, then absently wonders if she’ll have a grand escort to Trader Joe’s. 

“I’ll make some calls while you’re gone,” Alice says as she is taking her last bite; she looks up from her plate, confused, and Alice waves a hand. “I saw a glimpse of you at the grocery store, but then it went dark; I assume that means he’s going with you.”

“I thought about it for a split second, as a joke,” she clarifies with a huff of laughter. “I don’t think I need a bodyguard in the produce aisle at eight AM.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Alice and Jacob say, at the same time, and her lips twitch in amusement. 

Looks like they’re not so different, in the end.

She gives in and allows Jacob to drive her to the supermarket, though not without a long look from Alice as he walks her to the truck with his hand on the small of her back. 

They breeze through the store thanks to the list in her head—she buys a little more than she usually would, because it seems like Jacob plans to be around. She likes the thought of that even more than she’d expected, likes choosing things solely because she knows he’ll enjoy them.

“I think we should talk about last night,” Jacob says, voice low, when they’re nearly back to her house. She cringes internally, because that’s never a sentence a girl wants to hear after a night like that, and he clears his throat. “I know cliff jumping ended up being kind of traumatic for you, and it didn’t feel like it last night, but if I took advantage…”

He looks over at her, his expression pained, and she shifts closer and wraps her hand around his forearm.

“God, no, Jake—that’s not what happened.” He brings the truck to a stop in her driveway, puts it in park, and she presses her palm to his cheek so he’ll focus on her instead of fixing his gaze out the window. “I wanted everything, every moment. I still want it,” she murmurs, and he looks over her face like he’s still not quite sure he believes it.

“You do? Even after… after you spoke to him, and everything?” It’s a fair question, and again, one she answers very carefully.

“I think we needed to talk, he and I, but it didn’t change anything. You’re the one who changed everything,” she admits softly, tentatively, wetting her lips. She hopes her eyes convey the certainty her voice can’t seem to. “Do you want to kiss me?” she breathes, leaning closer, her fingers winding a path through his hair, and he nods his head and presses his mouth to hers. 

She gets up on her knees so she can be closer to him, but she doesn’t climb into his lap like before—she does have some self-restraint, despite what it may seem. She curls one arm around the muscles of his back, pulls him in for more contact with the hand in his hair, and it’s a few minutes later when she remembers they’ve got bags of perishable groceries in the back and a vampire with excellent acoustic abilities just inside her home. 

She pulls back, smiles a little at the soft, unfocused look on his face, then runs her hand down his chest before lifting it away entirely.

“I know we’re kind of at DEFCON 1 right now, but more of that a little later would be nice.” 

“Hmm. Very nice,” he agrees with a nod, his voice slightly rough, and he turns off the ignition and carries all of her groceries into the kitchen with one strong arm. 

Emmett and Jasper do come back, with Rosalie and Esme, to her delight and Jacob’s discomfort. Between the pack, who comes to get the vampires’ scents so there’s no friendly fire, and the family, who split time between her house and the one they left behind, the place is a revolving door of the supernatural for the next few days. 

All of them take turns watching over her house at night, while the others patrol the woods. She catches up with everyone she’s been separated from—even Jasper gives her a crushing hug, so at least the time away was good for something—and it’s wonderful, but it means there’s not much time to be with Jacob aside from planning sessions and the occasional quick check in. The most time she spends with him is when they attend Harry’s funeral, something somber and intimate, with ethereal music and a glowing campfire and endless stories about the Clearwater line. 

She is introduced to Leah and Seth, Harry’s children, and while Seth seems welcoming and friendly his sister is cold, standoffish—though not without reason, she soon learns from the pack. 

“She’s not always like that… mostly just when she’s around Sam,” Embry says where they stand on the edge of the forest, away from the thick smoke that burns her very human eyes. She looks over at the pack leader at the mention of his name. “Now that she’s part of the pack, we have to live the Leah/Sam/Emily painfest all over again.” 

She turns back to him, to Quil, who’s standing beside him, and tilts her head, curious.

“I don’t think I follow—Sam left Leah for Emily?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not what you think. He hates himself for hurting her, but he couldn’t help it. Emily was ‘the one.’” Quil says it almost sarcastically, with air quotes for emphasis, and she frowns.

“The one?” She doesn’t mean to sound skeptical, but these days she’s not as big a fan of providence and destiny as she used to be.

“Sam imprinted on Emily. It’s kind of like… soulmates, but bigger. Cosmic. They were literally meant to be together.”

“Like fate,” she says, filling in that blank, and then a large, warm hand is splayed across her back, fingertips pressing into the fabric of her dress. 

“We make our own fate around here,” Jacob says tightly, and she looks up, regards him curiously. He’s not just upset about Harry, or Victoria… there’s got to be something else making his jaw tense, his eyes hard. “And I think that’s more than enough of the pack soap opera for tonight. Are you ready to go home?” 

He turns his gaze to her, and it softens, for which she is grateful; he is her guardian on duty tonight, and despite the solemn evening—or maybe because of it—she wants to spend the night as close to him as she possibly can.

She nods, and after they say their goodbyes he walks her to the truck, opens the door for her, closing it carefully when she’s safely inside. He takes the spot behind the driver’s seat—his usual, now—but doesn’t drive straight to her house like she expects. 

“Ice cream?” she asks when he turns off the engine outside of a mom and pop shop selling sundaes, cones, and shakes. She exits the car at his indication, and the two of them walk hand in hand up to the illuminated window that says Order Here. An older couple is ahead of them, pointing at the chalk menu board, and Jacob leans in to speak in a hushed tone. 

“This place was Harry’s favorite. You like chocolate, right?” 

“Has anyone ever answered ‘no’ to that question?” she asks softly, playfully, and it works as intended, lightens the mood just enough to bring a brilliant smile to his painfully beautiful face. “I think this is a wonderful way to remember him, Jake.” She wraps a comforting arm around his, and Jacob nods, lips pressed together, eyes sad.

“Just kind of feels right.” 

He orders for them when it’s their turn, two waffle cones with two scoops of chocolate ice cream each, and they sit at a picnic table on the side of the building, eating their tributes with heavy hearts and looking up at the stars.

The ride home is quiet, contemplative, at least for her; by the time they arrive she has been running through thoughts of mortality, finality, how short life is and how very precious. 

These are all normal thoughts for a person to have, and certainly after a celebration of life like the one on the reservation tonight, but she thinks seriously for the first time about Jacob and his desperate need to protect her, the way he puts himself in danger—stupidly, recklessly, completely—every day to keep her safe.

When they’ve made it inside, she exhales deeply, looks up into earnest, curious eyes, and wraps her arms around him, presses close so she can bury her nose in his clothing.

She breathes him in long and slow, his usual scent of crisp air and rain and oak dulled by the smoke of the bonfire, and then his hands are in her hair, tipping her face up for a decadent, passionate kiss. 

God, how is he so good at this? she thinks as he sips at her lips, glides his own down the tender line of her throat. She sighs and grabs for his arms, something to ground her as her desire threatens to take over, to leave her a whimpering, begging mess beneath his hands. 

Jacob turns them so she’s got her back to the kitchen table, sets her on top of it, and she parts her knees for him, pulls him closer. Her fingers itch with the need to touch his skin, so she tugs at the hem of his shirt and gets her hands beneath it, skims them over the taut muscles of his bare back. 

“I can take it off,” he murmurs against her neck, and she nods breathlessly and helps him pull it over his head. His hands bracket her hips, palms flat on the table, and her arms curve up around his back, bringing him closer; she kisses him eagerly anywhere she can reach—his throat, shoulders, face, everywhere.

She whispers his name into his own skin, presses her lips to his biceps, scrapes her teeth over the lobe of his ear, and he shudders at her touch, tilts his head to look up at her, his eyes dark and almost… dangerous.

What does it say about her, that she finds that look so goddamn attractive?

“I’m sorry, I—I need a minute,” he says, panting through gritted teeth, and she lets her hands fall away, leaning back a little to give him space to breathe.

“Take all the time you need,” she assures him calmly, patiently. It’s the first time she’s ever seen his wolf so close to the surface, and she’s completely unafraid, would hold him and help him ride out the tension in his body if she thought he would let her. “It’s just us, Jake, just me and you.” 

“Just us,” he repeats, his fists clenching and unclenching, taking a long breath with his eyes closed. She breathes with him, has always found that helpful when she herself is overwhelmed, and after a few moments he presses closer and she runs a soothing hand over his chest. “I’m okay,” he says eventually, leaning in slowly for a kiss as though he’s afraid it will be rejected. She brings her hands to his face, deepens it, so it’s still soft and easy but with enough meaning behind it to convey her thoughts. 

“I know,” she murmurs, just to be certain he believes her. “You did so good; so good, Jake.” He nods, pulls back a little so he can look into her eyes. 

“It’s not that I can’t control it, I can, but…” He looks away for a moment, swipes his tongue over his lips. “The instincts are so strong and I don’t always want to fight them. Sometimes when I’m with you, I want to let the wolf win.” He says it like he’s ashamed, and she puts her arm around his shoulders and brings him down for another kiss, this one just a gentle press of mouths.

“I understand that more than you think I do.” His breath on her lips makes her crave more of his heat, but she knows it has to be slow now, or he’ll get too in his head and never let himself enjoy their night together. “I may not be supernaturally inclined, but sometimes making decisions with my body is all I want to do. Especially with you,” she adds, just a sigh between them, then touches their foreheads together. 

They stay like that for a moment, embracing in their own way, until he initiates a kiss that is so thorough it makes her toes curl. She brings her hands to his waist, guides him closer, and he rests a broad palm at the base of her throat and kisses her, again, and again, and again. 

Her arms curl around his body the second they separate for air, and he lifts her from the table, carries her up the stairs with an ease that makes her long for more frequent displays of his strength. 

Getting his clothes off is quick enough, since he’s already shirtless, and his hands are tender and gentle as he sweeps her hair away from her neck, pulls down the zipper of her dress, slides it off her bare shoulders. 

Neither of them bother to pull back the covers, simply lay back on the bed, her knees apart again, Jacob hovering between them and letting his eyes move over her like he’s committing her body to memory. It makes a wave of heat rush through her, and since tonight is less hurried she does the same, lingers over every curve of muscle, every sharp line of bone. He leans in, lays an arm behind her head, glides his lips over her jaw, her cheek, her mouth.

“I was right, before,” she says after another satisfying kiss, letting her fingers press into the flesh of his hips. He looks into her eyes, tilts his head curiously, and she smiles a little, can’t help herself. “You really are beautiful.” 

Jake breathes a laugh, even blushes a little, then kisses her until they’re both panting; her fingertips press harder when he pushes inside, then glide up his back to keep him close while the two of them move together. 

Jacob feels so different this way, is so much deeper, filling her in a way that makes it so she really can’t tell where she ends and he begins. He is heavy on top of her, but not uncomfortably so, and when her body shifts up the bed with every thrust it’s thrilling, incredible—she’s never felt so much in her life.

His face is serious, eyes focused, and she weaves her fingers into his hair and catches his lips in a kiss, moans into the end of it when he finds a spot inside of her that takes her breath away. 

“Oh, god, Jake.” He leans in for another kiss, deep and wet, nods against her lips. 

“You’re perfect—so perfect,” he huffs, breathless; he moves his hand to her hip, runs it over her stomach, then presses his palms to the bed and repeats his previous motion, over and over, her body coiling tight with pleasure. “Can’t believe I get this.” 

“We get this,” she corrects in a whisper, won’t let him think for one second that she’s not as completely in awe of him as he seems to be of her. She skims her nails over his lower back, his ass, tightens her thighs on either side of him and tips her head back just as he makes her come. “Don’t stop, Jake, please,” she whines, shaking, holding him so tightly with her entire body—she never wants it to end, never wants to be separated from him again, and he agrees, if the way his body presses down on hers is any indication. 

“Can’t stop… need you,” he groans, pushing her leg up further, so he feels almost impossibly thick and deep. Her arms wrap around his back, pulling him closer, holding him there as he ruts into her, scorching flesh pressed against flesh. 

“Yes, oh—”

Before she knows it she’s quaking again, gasping when he brings his teeth to her throat, scrapes them over her throbbing pulse. He growls in her ear, a deep, low, animalistic rumble she can feel in her stomach, then comes inside, claiming her with a broken, raspy, “mine.”

He lays half on top of her, half on the bed, after, their skin soft and damp with cooling sweat. She can’t stop looking at his face, his dark eyes, sharp jaw, and he cups her cheek with a gentle palm and gazes just as intently at her. 

“Come here,” she murmurs, a soft smile on her lips, and he kisses her slowly, makes her sigh with a pleasure so complete—mentally, physically, spiritually—it feels like she’ll never be the same. 

He gets up after a moment, comes back with a glass of water and a towel, and helps her clean up well enough to hold her over until she’s ready to get out of bed. She pulls the covers back while he’s gone, slides in between the cool sheets, and he follows her lead, pressing close to her beneath them.

“Are you upset you didn’t imprint on me?” she asks carefully, propping herself up on her elbow and using the other hand to run fingers through his hair. “I noticed that when the guys were talking about it, you got kind of tense.” He shrugs slightly before shaking his head.

“No, not upset… I was just so sure you were meant for me; I really thought it would happen sooner or later.” She understands that, can picture him wishing and waiting for something that would never come to pass. So patient, her Jacob.

“Do you wish it had? Do you think it would make this more real?” Her hand moves from his hair to his collarbone, down his chest, over his stomach, so very low. “Because when I’m touching you like this… nothing has ever felt so real.” 

He presses her against the bed, hovers over her, kisses her breathless, and it goes without saying that he agrees with every word she says. She softens beneath him, tired and pleased, and he shifts into a more comfortable position, laying behind her, that she knows means sleep for the both of them. He drapes an arm over her, and she draws circles into his skin with her fingertips, feels his warm breath on her neck, closes her eyes and revels in the weight of him at her back.

“Anyway,” she whispers, one last thought on her mind before she succumbs to sleep, “I almost think it’s better like this, that we have to fight for each other. No help from fate—just your will and mine.”

A/N: I got my start in fandom spaces by writing Twilight fanfic fifteen years ago, but I never posted it because it was... bad. Last week was a crummy week for me, so I found comfort in watching New Moon, and I literally couldn't help myself from re-writing it in Jacob's favor. There's no Edward hate here, and he'll play a bigger role in the next part I have planned, but Jake took hold of me in this one and didn't let go.

[shoot-the-oneshot]

SUGAR DADDY

MODERN WARFARE MASTERLIST

Simon Ghost Riley x reader I can’t explain it but he just screams sugar daddy vibes you just know he doesn’t spend his money on himself why not spend it on you? Warnings NSFW minors dni this is my first time writing smut so be warned.

Despite practically living his life on the battlefield Ghost was more up to date on things than the 141 would expect, but this however he had no idea about until he overheard two privates that were sharing a plane with them that he heard about sugar babies for the first time.

“It's great all I have to do is buy a little gift and take her to dinner to keep her happy she never asks where I’m going or when ill be back it's perfect, especially for this job.” That was exactly what he needed and he knew just where to look.

“It’s just to pay my rent, I know most girls expect big gifts and vacations, but I don’t.” You stressed your point to the man over the phone, being your first time being a sugar baby you didn't know if that was normal or not. But having heard about how busy most of the men are that do this kind of thing you didn't think twice about the arrangement.

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, we're both getting something out of this right, just be there when I call and we have a deal.” His deep voice soothed you as much as it excited you, that was one of his terms, you never call him just wait for him too, which you didn’t mind.

For months that’s how it went, he’d call and direct deposit your rent at the beginning of each month, it was easy money. Then slowly things changed he’d call late at night, voice straining as if he was in pain as he practically begged you to talk about anything to distract him from the war you didn’t know he was fighting.

It would span from a song you heard on the radio you liked to embarrassing stories from your youth.

“I don’t believe you.” His gruff voice sounded almost playful through the obvious tiredness you could hear.

Laying back against your pillows ignoring how unbothered you were at him interrupting your sleep. “No seriously I’ve never had a real boyfriend.”

“You’re too beautiful for a man to not even try to make you his.” He spoke as if he knew it as a fact. The compliment made your breath hitch hearing it come from him. Shaking your head at how ridiculous you sounded, you’ve never even seen him.

“How do you know I’m beautiful?” Your question made him speechless, he’d forgotten you weren’t supposed to know he’d seen you. Luckily for him, your sweet, innocent little laugh saved him from answering.

“But no, no flowers no one to open my door or make me my favorite meal after a rough day.”

“One day, one day you will princess.” His deep timber voice washed over you settling his spoken promise into your bones.

Over the next few months, you had almost daily calls when he was free with some weeks of radio silence with only the occasional flowers and takeout from your favorite restaurants to remember him by.

You’d even call him your friend if only you didn’t imagine how good his voice would sound calling you his good girl as you begged him to make you cum wishing it was his fingers inside your drenched pussy instead of yours.

Moaning out his name as you circled your clit, hips raising off the bed chasing the pleasure, biting your lip hard enough you tasted blood trying not to scream out as you came, your fingers not losing their rhythm as you pretended he was easing you through your release.

Your shivered coming down from your high, your phone ringing made you jump as you rushed to answer it not noticing the name through your haze until the same voice you had imagined only minutes before met your ears.

“Simon!”

“You alright love, sound out of breath?”

Slapping your hand over your mouth not realizing you were still panting you swallowed the sudden lump in your throat. “Yeah just went for a run.”

The next day there were flowers on your doorstep crystal vase sitting next to a new set of curtains.

“Oh my god are those all Vivian Westwoods?!?!” Your friend shouted as you sat down for the weekly girls' night. Grabbing your hands, she examined the gold rings that went from your fingertips up to your knuckles the metal bending with your movements.

“Yeah, Simon got them for me.” Was all the details you gave, taking a tentative sip of your drink. to them he was your super mysterious boyfriend who showered you in gifts which to be fair wasn’t that far off. Just the title and the fact you’ve never seen his face.

You were so oblivious you never noticed the man in the corner, face covered by a dark balaclava. Silently watching over you like he did when he had time off. Ghost smirked under his mask as the warm feeling of pride filled his chest watching them fawn over the rings he meticulously picked out after seeing a man get too close to you one night.

He knew you’d pack a harder punch with your knuckles covered in the metal. Not that you knew the reason behind the gift.

Not being able to help himself he pulled out his phone sending you a text. ‘Call me when you’re free’ -Simon.

He smirked again watching you slyly smile at your phone typing before setting your phone face down on the table.

‘Okay daddy’

you blame the alcohol for the newfound bravery. After his text, you couldn’t wait to get out of the bar and immediately dial his number the second you got to your car. Making small talk until his voice got serious.

“I want you to meet me.” He spoke spiking your heart rate. “You can’t see my face but I want you. I’ll text you the address call me when you get there.” Your phone was still pressed against your ear after he hung up. Was this it were you finally getting to live your fantasy?

You couldn’t help but laugh pulling up to the adult store windows all blacked out a part of you hoped he wasn’t just going to have you pick out a toy so he could listen to you fuck yourself with it. You don’t remember quite when it happened but the voice on the phone has dug his way into what felt like your soul making you listen to every word he said.

You paused as your phone rang. “I’m here” “I know listen carefully.” You felt the excitement build in your stomach at the thought of him telling you what to do. “Go inside and go to the back room second door on the left and get comfortable.” You wordlessly nodded forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Can you do that for me love?”

“Yes.” “Good girl now go.”

Pushing your way inside you realize the windows weren’t blacked out, the store was just closed the only light came from the back lighting up the hallway he mentioned. You swallowed your nerves noting that this was how every horror movie started but for some unknown reason you felt safe.

Opening the second door you see a table backed up to a hole in the wall momentarily confused until you hear his voice from the other side of the wall.

“Don’t be shy love get on the table.”

“Fuck” you breathed out already feeling your pulse in your pussy. You listened to him and climbed on the table nearly moaning as you saw his hands through the hole wrapping around your ankles rubbing the thin skin with his thumbs.

“Remember we can stop anytime just say the word soap and I’ll stop.” Despite the haze in the air you couldn’t help but ask why soap. He huffed rolling his eyes on his side of the wall. “It will remind me of something annoying and make me stop.” He growls out yanking your legs through the hole up to your waist. You yelped in shock as he paused letting you get relaxed in your new position.

“Please.” You begged feeling his hands running over your thighs, squeezing and you hoped he’d leave bruises so you’d know this really happened and wasn’t some fever dream. “Please fuck me.” arousal fogging your brain. You don’t even care that you’ve technically never met you felt more secure and protected by him than you ever have before.

You recalled him telling you that no one has seen his face and that you couldn’t either but you wanted nothing more than to run your hands through his hair. Your thoughts distracted you enough that you didn’t notice he had stripped your pants off and cuffed your ankles to the wall spreading you wide open for him.

“Simon.” You moaned feeling his hot breath against your lacy underwear, breathing you in he groaned wrapping the flimsy material around his fist.

“Can I?” He asked between clenched teeth holding himself back with little restraint. “Yes please yes!” With your approval he ripped your underwear apart lifting the shredded lace to his nose moaning, stuffing them in his cargo pants pocket for later.

Your legs jerked against the cuffs as his hot tongue softly slid through your slit flicking your clit. Looking down seeing the top of his head dirty blonde almost brown short hair and thick arms wrapped in muscle and tattoos dug into your thighs and hips, pulling you closer and digging his face into your pussy as his licks got more confident the louder you moaned and preened.

Your head fell back against the table as you felt a thick finger rub around your entrance. Your mumbles of pleasure made him smirk against you, slowly pushing his finger inside you. The sloppy sound of your spletching coming from your wet hole as he pulled his finger in and out almost made him cum in his pants.

“Come on my fingers love, then I’ll give you what you want.” He breathed out adding two more fingers making you whine at the stretch and doubling down on your clit sucking it between his lips and flicking it with his tongue.

“Come for me, come for me.” The vibration of his voice rolling up your spine from your pussy making you explode in pleasure grinding your hips into his face the best you could. “Good girl just like that.” He spoke against you. “Yes Yes YES!” You screamed.

Just like you imagined he didn’t let up as you came, his fingers still moving riding out your high, as he stood up if you were paying attention you would’ve heard the zipper and shuffling of clothes.

“Tell me you want this.” He demanded slapping the heavy head of his cock against your sensitive lips. “Please Simon.” You whine, being ready to slide through the hole in the wall and beg on your knees if he wanted.

Choking on air as he pushes into you, his groan loud enough it felt like it was right next to your ear. His thumbs rubbed your waist helping you relax around him. Pulling out so just the tip was left then snapping back in with all the strength he possessed, pushing your body up the table.

Your moaning was making it hard for him not to rip through the wall separating you and pull you into his arms fucking your mouth with his tongue like he was your pussy. Pressing his forehead against the was he picked up his pace the sounds of his cock filling you over and over and skin slapping was pornographic.

“Give me one more love, now.” He growled. Your body obed practically coming on command you screamed clenching down on his cock milking him and making his hips stutter as he shook with his release. Slamming one of his hands against the wall.

After some time his hands softly ran up and down your legs almost massaging them from their stiff position as he caught his breath. “You okay love?” Kissing each of your ankles he uncuffs them. “I’m perfect.”

When you got home there was a gift box filled with the most luxurious bath salts and bath bombs and a still warm box from your favorite pizza place.

A few weeks later the 141 was at their go-to bar, sitting in the corner ghost was keeping a sharp eye on his pretty little bartender. As his teammates go shot for shot.

“Ghost help me with this round.” Glaring at soap he follows across the bar standing next to Soap as he tries to flag down the other bartender. Simon tunes them out keeping a subtle eye on you while you mixed drinks a wide smile on your face as you made jokes with your customers. He glared harshly at his teammate when he felt a rough hit against his arm.

“If you stare at her anymore you’ll freak her out.” Soap spoke patiently waiting for the tables shots and beers. “Wasn’t staring.” Was his retort. Making Soap laugh. “Sure LT…”

The conversation ended when your coworker set down the drinks, ghost grabbing his half while soap struck up another conversation with the bartender.

“So my big friend over here hasn’t quit staring at your coworker any chance you can tell me her name.” He asked making ghost tense “Soap!” He barked but quickly deflated as your coworker yelled to get your attention. ‘Shit’

Ghost was used to making himself look as big and as scary as possible to the enemy, but that all went out the window the closer you got he shrunk in on himself trying to appear less menacing.

“Y/n they were asking about you.” The bartender said patting your arm as she moves to the other side to take more orders. You looked between the two men with a small smile completely ignoring the balaclava covering his face.

“hello beautiful, I’m soap. excuse my friend here he’s not as much of a talker as I am but he’s been staring at you all night and this seemed less creepy than you catching him doing it so ghost, there you go.” Soap nodded toward you while ghost glared at him like he was imagining every way he wanted to kill him. To be fair that was probably exactly what he was thinking.

Your eyes shot to his making him swallow. He’d never seen you up close before, well not your face anyways your eyes sparkled in the low light of the bar making his cold heart skip a beat. Ghost lifted a single hand and shook it resembling a wave, Making you smile.

“I’m sure you’re a great guy but I have a fiancé.” Your words snapped him back to reality ‘a what now’ glancing down at your fingers finding a small diamond ring replaced the jointed metal ones he got you. his eyes hardened, grip on the bar top nearly breaking as he holds himself back from finding the man and breaking his neck. Does your fiance know you’re sleeping with him? How do you talk so late into the night for hours with a fiance?

“Of course, we will leave you be.” Soap nodded grabbing the drinks ghost abandoned and dragging him along back to the table. “I get she has a fiancé but a wave was the best move you had? No baby ghost running around soon huh?”

His words made Ghost snap, grabbing Soap by the collar and pulling him up to his face. “Leave it!” He growled, pushing soap back to the table where the 141 were now standing from watching their Lieutenant and sergeant toe to toe. Not that they would get between them price would be the only one ballsy enough to pull ghost off.

Pushing Soap back, beer sloshing out of the glasses onto the floor and his shirt. ghost stormed off to the other side of the bar finding a dark corner to brood in.

Words of “Was all of it a lie, did she play me, how did I not see it coming, I knew it was too good to be true.” All went through his head as he stared holes through the phone in his hands. The first photo you sent him staring back at him the same wide smile that was on your face on the other side of the room at that very moment.

How could she be smiling when she hurt me like this? ‘She doesn’t know it’s you dumbass’ his inner monologue spoke making his eyes roll to the back of his head in frustration. Deciding to completely ignore your presence lasted all of five minutes before his eyes darted up at a loud slap, finding you right in the middle of it.

He watches your shoulder raise and fall with a large breath, shaking your head you went to take a step away from the table full of rowdy college frat boys.

“Hey!” You yelped when the one that smacked your ass grabs a hold of your arm when you walked away, dragging you back.

“Where’s the fire sweetheart why don’t you take a seat.” The leader leaned back patting his thigh with a lazy smile across his face.

“I really need to get back to work.” Nervously laughing you tug at your hand trying to pull it out of his grip, only pissing him off. His smile dropped and he leaned closer yanking you into him causing you to stumble and fall onto his lap.

“I think you’re right where you need to be, right boys?” The table erupted in laughs as you struggle to get away grabbing the fork on the table and jabbing it as hard as you could into his arm. Making him exclaim and push you off.

Snarling he looked between you on the floor and the fork in his arm. “Fucking bitch!” You scrambled backward as he lunged for you. Closing your eyes you braced for impact.

Your eyes shot open with a gasp as shouting erupted throughout the bar. Only seeing a broad back standing between you and the table.

Simon didn’t know what came over him but the second you were manhandled into the man’s lap he saw red. His eyes scanned you on the floor for injuries as he moved between you and the men.

“Shouldn’uv done that” he gruffed out, nearly laughing as two of them stood to take him on grabbing them both by the collars he rag-dolled them to the side throwing them to the floor. Frat kids against a trained pissed-off soldier, it was too easy. Out of the corner of his eye Ghost saw his team move in to take the rest brave enough to stand up.

Ignoring the chaos around him ghost zeroed in on the one that shoved you. Wrapping his gloved hands around his neck pulling him close enough ghost could smell the fear rolling off the man in waves as he was face to face with ghost.

“You’re coming with me.” Dragging the struggling man screaming to be let go outside. This was exactly what ghost needed to let out his frustration.

Meanwhile, your view of the two men headed outside became obstructed by the man that called himself Soap earlier crouched down beside you.

“You alright lass?” He asked helping you off the floor as your eyes slowly met his and nodded. Soap led you to the bar and sat you gently on a barstool. Checking you over. As he looked you up and down you did the same.

His eyes shot back to yours as you laughed softly, “what’s so funny?” He asked, scrunching his eyebrows. By now the bar had cleared out and was quiet once again. “A Mohawk really?”

“A fork really?” He relates his accent sounding thicker with his deadpan tone. His question snapped you back to reality making you scan across the wreckage of the bar. Shattered glass all over, the floor covered in alcohol you’re sure you even saw a broken chair.

“Where’s your friend?” You gasped looking back to Soap and grabbing his arm. “Which one?”

“The one in the mask.” Soaps lips made an O shape before laughing to himself. “He’s fine I promise bastard has handled a lot worse than a few jackasses in a bar.”

For some unknown you were filled with panic at his words nearly toppling off the stool in your haste, rushing across the bar and out the door a small huff escape your lungs as you run into the masked man’s chest.

His arms wrapped around you catching you before you fell. “Easy.” Your breath caught as you locked eyes, dark swirls behind the balaclava stared back at you.

Ghosts arms slowly released you like he was clinging to the feeling of having you in his arms, with a sigh he dragged himself away from you and leaned back against the cold brick wall of the building.

“Um thank you for that in there.” You stammered fiddling with your fingers as he stares ahead at nothing. The only recognition that he heard you was a nod of his head as silence hung between you both. “What did you do to him?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Was his curt response after a few moments he sighed not being able to help himself. “Are you alright?”

Your brows raised in shock at his question. “No, I’m ok.” He looked unimpressed “He handled you pretty rough for a soft thing like you.”

“I had it handled.” You barked feeling the need to defend yourself even if you definitely didn’t have it handled. To your surprise, he chucked the deep rumble sent shivers down your back.

“I saw, doubt he will ever be able to look at a fork again.”

You smiled rubbing your arms up and down trying to warm up. “No, I’m not cold.” You lied watching him start to unzip his jacket and take it off. He didn’t utter a word just shook the jacket dangling from his hand until you took it.

The rich smell of whiskey and gunpowder and something just pure man filled your lungs wrapping around you so tightly you didn’t think you’d ever smell anything else again. You missed the way his eyes softened and filled with possessiveness simultaneously, seeing you in his clothes.

Then the bitter reminder bubbles up seeing your left ring finger. Speaking through a clenched jaw. “Your fiancé should’ve been here to protect you.” The silent ‘like I would’ hung in the air.

You laughed shaking your head as you moved to lean your back against the wall next to him. “I’m not engaged, Simon. It’s a fake to keep creeps off”

“Then why-wait what.” He stammered for the first time shock filling his body as you called him by name. Shyly looking up at his towering figure you nodded your head to the unasked question. “Your voice.”

Falling back heavily against the wall he pondered his thoughts the way you were gazing at him made it difficult. “What now?” He asked for once not feeling in control. “Well, I’d really like it if you took me home.” By the time you finished your sentence, he was already moving to lead you to his truck with a large hand warming the small of your back.

“You’ve got it, love.”

“Wait what about your friends?” You asked pointing behind you as he held the passenger door open. “Fuck them.”

Hii!! Hope you liked it let me know in the comments I wanted to write more of this but it was getting long so who wants part 2

If you liked this check out my other ghost works here

cod taglist request open

@sandinthemachine

[thatlovinfeelin]

Afterglow -Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw-

In which the woman Rooster really loves realizes it's time to stop being the other woman.

Afterglow…. Something you never thought you’d be clutching onto. But you knew the second this moment ended, so did your relationship with the man above you. He was lying on your chest, his head in the crook of your neck. His hair tickled your cheek. His skin was warm against yours. 

You’d miss this, these moments with him. So simple you could overlook them, if you didn’t know what was coming next. He was probably still blissfully unaware, still stuck in the post orgasmic haze that seemed to have escaped you. Because you knew you’d never have another night like this. 

Your radio was playing softly in the corner of your bedroom, you couldn’t even make out the song. You wanted to cry. You had to choke it all back. He couldn’t know, not yet. Just a few more moments of this, a few more moments of the afterglow that you’d never get to experience again. 

“That was amazing,” He murmured, kissing your neck, “God, you’re amazing.”

The whimper was hard to tamper down. Outside, the sun was setting, turning the whole world shades of gold. How many sunsets had you watched with him? You took all of them for granted, until now. Now you wanted to remember every moment you ever had with him, just so you could relive them again when you became unbearably lonely.

“Yeah,” You whispered, trying to sound normal, “Can we just stay like this? Just for a few minutes?”

He sighed. He never stayed, that was the rule. The few times he tried, you were almost caught. His cover was nearly blown and it took weeks for things to calm down enough for him to come back over again. 

“I wish,” You could almost hear the heartbreak in his voice, “I wish I could, my love.”

He didn’t call her that, only you. She was sweetheart or sometimes baby, but you were always his love. But you weren’t his only love. The knowledge of that hurt more than watching him leave every time, knowing it could be the last. But tonight…tonight really would be the last time. 

“When do you ship out?” You asked quietly. 

“Tomorrow morning,” Another sigh from him, “Long before you’d roll over, since you like to sleep till noon.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” You were selfish and you knew it. 

So fucking selfish. You wanted him to yourself, even if he wasn’t yours to keep. He belonged to her. He was hers and had been hers for two years now. She had the ring, not you. You wanted to be able to let him go before now, but you couldn’t. You were too selfish. Selfish, selfish, selfish. 

“I wish I didn’t have to leave you,” Was his only reply, planting another soft kiss on your neck. 

“Where does she think you are right now?” You nearly winced as you asked. 

He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at you. He looked like he was in just as much pain at your question. He probably was in pain, because you knew he cared about you, but he cared about her too. So much so that he was going to marry her, leaving you in the shadows. 

“Does it matter?” He questioned, stroking your cheek gently. 

You forced yourself to swallow and look at the ceiling instead of him. His deep hazel eyes would be the death of you. They always seemed so soft when he was around you. The few times that you saw him with her, they didn’t seem that way. Not for the worse, and not for the better. You knew he loved her, you would never question that. But how could he love her and still be here with you? He loved you before she was even in the picture, but how did that make any of this right?

“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” You said again, feeling a tear slip down your face. 

He cursed softly and rolled onto his back. His hand found yours and held it so tight it almost hurt. He would offer what little comfort he could. But even he didn’t know how to deal with this situation anymore. Everything was getting too muddled. He wasn’t sure where some feelings stopped and others started anymore. He couldn’t keep pushing his feelings for you away when he was with her. 

He hated the fact that he was hurting you. It threatened to tear him in two. He met you in college, in a time where he needed someone to lean on. Somehow you became that person, and over the years you followed him wherever he went. It became clear neither of you were dating or interested in anyone else, so he found his way into your bed. Then he just sort of stayed there. Until he met her. 

It was an accident, really. He thought you would be the person he’d end up spending the rest of his life with. But then he met her and she was so different. She was gentle and almost innocent and pure. She was like you and yet so unlike you that it made his head spin. 

Maybe that’s why he proposed to her a year ago. Because she was just enough like you that his heart didn’t hurt as much. You told him you never wanted to get married or really settle down. You were happy sleeping with him and having the benefits of a boyfriend without actually having one. He wanted more. You couldn’t give it to him, but she could. 

Only, once you saw them together you realized just how much you wanted to keep him. You wanted to be his one and only, but it was far too late for that. He didn’t belong to you anymore, and you needed to let him go. 

“This is the last time we do this,” You said softly, your heart breaking with each word. 

“Love-”

“I mean it Roo,” more tears fell from your eyes, “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t love you and then send you back home to her. I can’t be the other woman anymore.”

“You said-”

“I know what I said,” Your voice broke this time, “I was wrong, and I can’t ask you to leave her. Not with the wedding happening when you get back.”

“I-”

“I’m leaving, I won’t be here when you get back,” The tears were flowing freely now, “I can’t keep breaking my heart. And I don’t know how to live in a city with you, but not have you.”

“My love, please-”

Your head shook and you forced your hand out of his before getting out of the bed. You wrapped your robe around yourself and tried to put as much distance between you and him as you could. You felt so small, standing there in the middle of your bedroom, looking at the man you love in your bed. 

“I can’t be your love anymore,” You cried, wrapping your arms around yourself, “Don’t you see that? You can’t have both of us, but you need her. She’s your future, not me. She’s the one you chose.”

“Why are you doing this?” He was sitting up now. 

“Because, it’s time. Can’t you feel it? Everything is all messed up,” You explained, voice breaking more with every word, “Because I love you, and I have no right to love you. I have no right to want to keep you in my bed with me. I have no right to you at all. She does, and she’s waiting at home for you. You’re shipping out tomorrow and you’re here with me instead. It’s not fair to her, or to me, or to you. I can’t ask you to do this anymore.”

“I could-”

“No, you wouldn’t leave her,” You interrupted him, “Because you’re a good man, Roo. That’s the problem. You’re too good of a man and I’m asking you to be something other than that. I won’t pull you down anymore. I can’t live with myself.”

He was standing now, naked as the day he was born. She wanted to memorize the way he looked. How he sounded, the way his touch felt. She wanted to remember all of it. Because, if nothing else she could at least have the memories. 

“I love you,” He whispered to her, “I love you so damn much. If you had just said the word.”

“I know,” She cried softly, her head resting against his chest, “I was too scared, and then it was too late. I knew the second you fell in love with her was the second I lost you.”

“What can I do?” He asked, smoothing your hair down, “How do I fix this?”

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around him one last time, “You can’t fix it, Roo. You know I’m right.”

He sighed again, “I wish things were different.” 

“So do I. But they aren’t.”

And so the afterglow was over. You watched as he slowly picked up his clothes and slid them back on. You helped him fix his hair, just like you always did. Your touches lingered though, both of you knowing this would be the very last time. There wouldn’t be another moment like this. He would go home to his fiancee for one more night before a brief deployment, and you would start packing so you could move back across the country. 

You needed to be as far away from him as you could. You couldn’t imagine still being in the same town as him and know that you could never touch him again. That you couldn’t kiss him or have him hold you. You would miss this, but you needed to be the better woman. You couldn’t be the other woman anymore. 

“Stay safe,” You whispered, peering up at him again, “I love you.”

His forehead dropped to yours, “I love you, so much, too much.”

“I know,” You replied softly, “Be good to her, Rooster. Please.”

“Be good to yourself,” He begged, “Will you- will you let me know when you’ve made it wherever you’re going?”

Your head shook, “It’s a bad idea, you know that. We need to stop all of this.”

“What if I come to find you?”

There was a bit of hope in his voice. You knew what he was implying. What if he left her for you. What if he gave up the white picket fence they were building together. What if he risked it all to come find you when he got back. 

“You can’t. You belong here, with her.”

“I wish things were different,” He said again, “They should be different.”

“They should,” You agreed, finally letting yourself feel everything, “But they aren’t, and they can’t be. You belong here, and I don’t. It’s time I go find where I belong, Roo.”

He kissed you. Every ounce of emotion seemed to be caught in the kiss. You could taste your tears on his lips. For a moment you wondered if he was crying too. But Rooster didn’t cry. You clutched onto him, hating the fact that you would have to let go eventually. 

Because you would let go, and when you did he would walk out of your door and you’d never see him again. Just knowing that broke your heart into more pieces than you could ever put back together. He would take some of those pieces with him. 

As much as you wished it wasn’t true, he would always have pieces of your heart. He was the first and only man you loved. He knew you better than you knew yourself. Just like you knew him….just like he loved you. Because he did love you. You had to remind yourself, he loved you, but he needed to love her more. 

“You need to go.”

“Not yet,” he replied, “Just a few more minutes.”

Maybe those few extra minutes could last you a lifetime, “Just a few more.”

[seriesxwriting]

Hello can i ask for Damon Salvatore x Fem!Reader where the reader is in a relationship with Damon and he arranges a romantic evening for her (rose petals scattered in his bedroom, candles, wine or champagne and a bathtub filled with foam) and he does it because he knows that the reader is studying and worked hard for her exams?

This is a great idea!! I feel like now is a good time to write it as I’m currently taking my A level this month ahah. Thank you for the request <3.

Won’t you spend a little time with me

Pairing: Damon x Fem!Reader

Series: The vampire diaries

Summary: Request: Damon won’t leave you alone even though you’re trying to see exams. You don’t believe he understands the stress you’re under but oh how wrong you are.

Warnings: kissing, maybe swearing.

“Yeah well I just have to cover component two section A to E over this weekend” I told Bonnie as we exited the school building through the double doors. “I remember when a weekend meant freedom” she sighed putting on her sunglasses, making me wish I had my own ones as the sun was so bright. “I don’t, it was so long ago”. Bonnie chuckled at my joke shaking her head. “Well, not long left I suppose, we only have three more exams after the weekend and then we’re… donezo Washington” she rubbed her hands together excitedly.

“I suppose that’s a good way to look at it- but we’ve actually got to get through the week and I have to get through the weekend ignoring Damon’s pestering” I rolled my eyes which Bonnie saw. “Is he still not leaving you alone? Don’t he understand not everyone is imortal and some of us need grades” Bonnie put her head to once side as we continued walking round the building towards her car.

“Don’t get me wrong I want to see him, but balancing a boyfriend and exams is just so difficult, he just doesn’t understand that these are my priority just as much as he is” I explained in a low tone but when I looked to Bonnie she’d stopped in her tracks. I frowned confused and she lifted her hand to her sunglasses sliding them down to her nose. “You were saying?” She whispered looking straight. I followed her eye-line looking at what she was gawping at. Damon. There he was, sitting in his car with the roof down, engine on and blasting music from his radio.

Not that he was even listening to it, he was too busy scrolling on his phone. “God, he’s so difficult some times” I sighed watching him, deciding what I was going to say to him. “I suppose you’ll get a lift off him then, don’t need me” Bonnie cracked a smile nudging me. “I’ll see you Monday, I’d hug you but my hands are full with these stupid books” “see you Monday girl” she giggled waving and walking off to her car. I took a deep breath in and strode towards Damon. “What are you doing here?” I stood by his door and raised an eyeshadow.

“Well hi there gorgeous, what’s your name” he joked with a smirk looking me up and down. “What are you talking about gorgeous I’ve had no sleep for a month, I look and feel like a zombie” I replied walking round to my passenger princess side, in a slightly grumpy mood. Damon, like a gentleman, opened the door for me seeing my hands were full. “You’re always gorgeous to me y/n, you don’t have to worry about that” he smiled putting his head on his shoulder. Now that I had a free hand I was able to turn the volume down on the radio so I could talk to him without it sounding like we were in a club.

“What are you doing here Damon?” I asked in a repeated grumpy tone. “What’s it look like? I’m picking you up” he replied shrugging and gesturing to his blue car. “Yes but why? I told you Bonnie was talking me to home” “because you’re not going home I’m taking you to mine” he smiled softly at me, it was so hard to be mad at him because he was so sweet but I was sick of his lack of understanding towards how important these exams were to me. “I also told you I had to revise and couldn’t see you tonight” “I know…” he trailed off in a lower tone which made me think I’d hurt his feelings.

“I made plans for us that’s all” “Damon I have one week left of this revision shit and then I’m all yours, I don’t know why you don’t understand how important these exams are to me, they are my future, I’m stressed as fuck I just need to be revising” I told him straight but his eyesight trailed off and he began awkwardly playing with his fingers on the steering wheel. “…I can take you home if you’d prefer” he answered not looking at me. I sighed knowing now that I’d definitely hurt his feeling and scooted over laying my head on his shoulder and wrapped one arm around his neck.

“No, take me to yours, we can spend a little time together before you take me home- it’s not like I haven’t missed you” “no y/n it’s okay, I’ll take you home” “I don’t want to go home anymore Damon, I want to spend some time with you so take me back to yours” I laughed shaking my head, trying to lighten the mood just a little bit. But Damon wasn’t really interested. I suppose the time I spent with him to night wouldn’t be and nice as I’d hoped due to me being a bit too harsh and taking out my tiredness on him.

“Are you sure?” He breathed turning his head slightly towards me. I kissed his cheek before resuming back to my seat. “Yes, I’m sure” I nodded putting my hands on my lap, sitting back and waiting for him to pull off.

Damon didn’t say a word on the way back home unless I made a conversation. To that he would answer using minimal responses as if he was challenging himself to answer using as few words as possible. I eventually got tired of small talk and just looked out the window thinking about how I could make it up to him. We eventually pulled into his drive and got out the car. “I’m sorry” I blurted out. “I’m not angry at you y/n” Damon sighed walking towards the door and away from the conversation.

“But you are- I know my words weren’t- well worded in the best way but my point was still valid Damon” I told him trailing after him. He stopped at the door with the key hesitating. “If-you wanna go home? I’ll take you home” he shrugged finally looking at me. “No” I rolled my eyes shaking my head. “I just want you to understand the importance of revision for me and understand that we’re both in the wrong- you deliberately ignored my plans just so you could get me here to stick a film on for two hours and possibly get some action half way through it” I folded my arms but as soon as I said that i regretted it.

I saw his face change, his jaw locked but his eyes they stayed the same. I saw the hurt in them. “I’ll drive you home” he told me in a very neutral tone. “No we’re going to go inside and talk about this” I shook my head grabbing the key out of his hand as he walked past me heading back to his car. “I don’t want to argue with you Damon” I sighed unlocking the door “I don’t want to leave things bad between us” “wait y/n!” Damon threw his hands out as I pulled open the door. Peering inside the house I noticed a whole bunch of rose petals on the floor.

They were bright red and began from the door and trailed all the way to the stairs as well as up them. “What’s this?” I blinked after not saying anything for a while. “Nothing let me just take you home”. Hundred’s probably thousands of rose petals were placed carefully on the ground. “D- did you do this?” I whispered turning to look at him now. “…Yeah” he sighed putting his hand behind his head. “For me?” I questioned in a quieter voice. He nodded slightly looking at me subtly.

I didn’t know what to say but I did knew I felt guilty. Very guilty. “C-can I follow them?” I stuttered watching them rustle as the breeze came through the door. “Do what you like y/n” he shrugged standing up straight. I stepped inside the house after watching him for a few seconds. Onto the rose petals I walked and slowly while admiring them I followed the trail towards the stairs. They went up as if it was a huge wave coming towards me but with each step I felt more and more guilt sink in.

They lead me into Damon’s bedroom. Where on the bed there was a huge box of chocolates and a bottle of champagne. The petals then led into the bathroom where there was a huge bubble bath when I went round the corner. Candles everywhere I looked, they lit up the place so the lights didn’t even need turning on. I stood in awe as I heard Damon creeping up the stairs. “Damon” I turned to look at him.

“this is all new to me y/n… being with- a human is new- it takes some getting used to but I wish you knew how hard im trying” he replied before I could even get a word out. “I see that now- I see how blind I was damon, I was being selfish and I was horrible to you and you- you were so sweet” I sniffed as ny eyes started to fill up. I slowly walked to the bed wiping my tears away that had trickled down my face.

“Don’t cry y/n- I probably should have gone about it in a different way- you did tell me you were busy tonight and I did ignore that” he sighed walking over and putting his arm around me. “Don’t do that, you’re not in the wrong I spoke to you awfully and you only ignored it so you could do all these sweet things for me- you wasn’t being selfish like I was” I shook my head crying onto his shoulder now. “I knew you were stressed I just wanted you to have one relaxed night so you don’t overwhelm yourself with work- I know you have a tendency to do that” he giggled squeezing me.

“I’m sorry for what I said, you’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met- no one has ever done anything like this for me before, my heart just melted” I sniffed looking up into his eyes. “You deserve this y/n you’ve been working so hard” he rubbed my arm softly. “But I would never pull you away from somewhere to be selfish and get some- action” he continued in a more stern voice making it clear he didn’t like that comment. “I know I know- it was stupid to say I was pissed it just fell out- I regretted it as soon as I said it I promise” I shook my head sniffing.

“I know you did babe I saw it in your eyes, just wanted to highlight it- So stop crying and let’s open this drink” he smiled leaning in for a quick kiss. I held his face as he drew back smiling and pulled him back in again this time for a little longer. “I love you Damon, so much” I whispered rubbing my thumb across his cheek.

“I love you y/n, always”.

Masterlist

All series masterlist

The vampire diaries masterlist

Damon Salvatore masterlist

(Having a boyfriend is cool but it’s hard when you have to juggle exams and a relationship. Having to choose between revising for an exam that could affect your whole future and spending time with the person you see as your future. But just remember it’s temporary, and your partner will want you to do well, they will want the best for you. Exams are the priority and don’t let anyone take that away from you and don’t feel guilty putting yourself first, they should want to see you succeed. So do what you feel’s right.)

[saetgvia]

spark | wriothesley

in which you and wriothesley find an unlikely spark.

CHAPTER ONE: A NOT SO MEET-CUTE

prince!wrio x fem!noble!reader, invented country au

✧ genre: fluff, angst...? maybe...? if you squint...?, arranged marriage trope

✧ tw: none, if you see any lmk <3

✧ word count: 1.32K

✧ playlist: spark - taeyeon, radio - lana del rey, deja vu - txt, darl+ing - seventeen, invu - taeyeon, agora hills - doja cat, killin' me good - jihyo, i like you (a happier song) - doja cat & post malone, fever - enhypen, eleven - ive, hype boy - newjeans, hard to love - rose, sour grapes - le sserafim, oh my god - adele, my head & my heart - ava max, nonsense - sabrina carpenter, the feels - twice

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i. a not so meet-cute

'what.' you stare in disbelief at your parents. 'there's no way. NO. WAY.' arranged marriages only happen in books. of course you'd heard of them in your country of azura, some distant cousin being married to some lord or other for alliances or whatever, but you'd always been free to do what you wanted, marry who you chose. your parents never put any restrictions on you, but this out of the blue is so- 'unexpected! what? i thought-' 'circumstances change.' your father replies shortly. 'i- you- you can't do this!' you cry, becoming more and more panicked. you wanted to fall in love, marry someone you chose! and now, you were going to be pawned off to someone you didn't even know. wait...

'can you at least tell me who i'm being given away to?' 'you're not being given away-' 'oh mom, it's fine. i know how this works. so, who is it?'

wriothesley. the prince of emeia. a name that struck fear into your very soul. not because he was a terrible ruler or a womaniser. he was, in fact, the complete opposite. you'd heard tales from all over the kingdom in the form of gossiping ladies giggling behind fans, sipping their tea and gushing to your mother. she, in turn, laughed daintily, and turned to you with a pointed look. how could she even know? his parents kept him hidden away from the world, their precious son too perfect for mere commoners. no, you were afraid because you didn't know him. because he seemed too good to be true. and most of all, because he was about to become your life. you should have seen this coming.

'i won't go.'

your father's eyes narrow, and you can see his neatly trimmed beard bristling in anger. you've never seen him like this before, and over something as silly as an arranged marriage? your mother puts a placating arm on his bicep, and he shoots her a look, both of them communicating through their gaze. finally, he exhales, evidently trying to calm himself, and speaks.

'we... we're in debt. remember that deal with ceria? the cherry liqueur? they've been selling it for exorbitant prices without giving us any of the profits, and we've been depending on that to get us out of last winter's snowstorms. emeia noticed us struggling and have so kindly offered to refill our coffers in exchange for your hand.' there's a hint of annoyance in his tone, and you begin to understand just how much this is weighing on him. but still, how can you throw your life away like that?

'i'll think about it.'

⭑⭑⭑

'but i don't WANT to!' you shriek into your pillow, kicking your feet in true spoiled girl fashion. your maid, or rather, your friend, giselle, winces, and tries to comfort you.

'hey, maybe it won't be so bad! everyone says he's a sweetheart!'

'but everyone ISN'T BEING MARRIED OFF TO HIM!'

'think about your parents, hon! you can always divorce him later, run away, fake your own death-'

she breaks off at your deadpan gaze, and starts to giggle, until you start to giggle, and you're both in your bed cackling uncontrollably. you wipe tears of mirth from your eyes, and look at giselle over the rumpled sheets, her eyes twinkling, and you wish there were more people like her in the world. sitting up, you clasp her hands between yours, and trace the lines on her weathered palm. you exhale, and make up your mind. you have to marry wriothesley.

'giselle... i'll marry wriothesley. but only if you come with me.'

⭑⭑⭑

'woah woah woAH-' you cry as you stumble. your beautiful, floor-length cherry-red dress, so stunning to look at when you were standing in one place, was nothing but a nuisance when you were walking. for comfort, you'd opted for soft velvet flats instead of the heels sent for you; you could see the flaws in this decision now. but instead of breaking your nose, you're met with shoes. shiny leather shoes, buckled with silver, and a pair of strong - warm - arms gripping your own. slowly raising your head, your eyes land on a beautiful face. chiseled jawline, chiseled nose, chiseled forehead, somehow his neck is also chiseled. but his lips, so plump and pink and soft, and his eyes, like chips of blue ice, hold a twinkle of mirth.

'woah there, careful. wouldn't want you to get hurt.'

his voice is honey, smooth and sweet, and it washes over your ears. you can't stop staring, enthralled by his gaze.

'cat got your tongue?'

you snap out of your daze, realising you're still half on the mysterious stranger, and stumble backwards. you brush your hands over your dress, the gold embroidery rough under your fingers.

'sorry. i uh- i have to go.'

you picked up your skirts and hurried back towards the throne room. you didn't think you could get so lost trying to go to the bathroom! stopping before a mirror adorning the wall, you take a quick look at your appearance. the crimson dress fit your figure wonderfully, golden embroidery curling up the sides and front of your dress, forming a pattern of flames that ended just below your neckline. your hair, so lustrous and thick, had managed to escape its tight bindings, so you gasp heavily as you catch your breath and tie your hair up at the same time, the ribbon cherry-red to match your dress. adjusting yourself one final time, you nod to the guards outside to open the door for you, and walk into the throne room.

you're once again taken by surprise at the grandness of it all. absolutely everything inside is scarlet, a stark contrast to the cool blue drapes of azura. you'd always found it funny how blue was your dukedom's colour and yet your primary export was cherries, something so very opposite. the floor, carpeted in lush red and cream formed a pathway up to the raised thrones, all three of them cushioned by velvet and adorned with gold scrollwork and filigree. behind the thrones and all around, rich tapestries decorate the walls, vermilion depictions of the kingdom's greatest victories. you weren't sure if they were there to celebrate or intimidate. maybe both. a big, booming laugh reaches your ears, and your gaze is drawn to the antechamber towards the back of the room. ah, so that's where they've gone to. you scurry towards the chamber, nodding with as much regal-ness as you could muster towards the servants who caught your eye and sank into a deep curtsy or bow. straightening your dress, again, out of habit, you step into the room.

your parents are laughing, your father releasing his great guffaw and your mother tittering behind her gloved hand. the king of emeia, a warm, welcoming person with greying ebony hair and soft blue eyes was telling some kind of story, while his wife, the queen, sat, watching the scene with adoration and satisfaction. the queen noticed you first, her brown eyes crinkling into a sweet smile as she noticed you.

'oh there you are! we were wondering where you'd gone.'

'sorry... i got a little lost.' you take your seat on another velvet sofa, picking up your cup of tea. the servants appeared to have brought more plates of food in, the table once again covered in delicate china piled high with macarons and pastries and little sandwiches cut into perfect triangles. you pick up one of the treats, a golden swirl of pastry with colourful fruit peeking out, and bite into it. it's heavenly, deliciously flaky and sweet on your tongue. you pick it up and munch happily on it again.

'ah, here he is. wrio! here is the girl we wish for you to marry.'

you choke. because when you look up, you see the same chiseled features, the same lips, the same eyes and the same smile.

'THAT'S wriothesley?'

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from saetgvia: i have never started writing a fic so fast oh my god??? very excited for this fic and i hope you are too <3 stay tuned will have part 2 coming out soon!

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please like and reblog my work! tumblr relies on reblogs to function, so help my work be seen by more people <3 my spark taglist and overall is now open, drop an ask if you want to be added! just specify which one.

© saetgvia 2024. do not copy or repost.

[searchingforgravity]

Graceland Experience - PART 6

Fandom: Elvis/Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Elvis takes you for a drive and ask you questions you aren't prepared to answer. Then you overhear a conversation that could ruin everything.

TW: Implication of sexual activity

Word Count: 1212

A/N: Some things start to unravel at the end of this chapter, the reader has to think fast to figure out what to do next.

"Let's go for a little drive, honey," Elvis says suddenly, looking at you intently from across the table before wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Your stomach sinks. He gives you that same eerie look, like he's trying to pick your brain.

You, Sonny, Jerry and Elvis have all just gotten done eating breakfast and are preparing to get up and go your separate ways. Everyone stops. Elvis briefly glances at his friends.

"What are you guys lookin' at? I'll meet with y'all later. Come on, baby."

He stands up from the table and starts towards the door, a clear signal that you should follow him. Sonny and Jerry hang back while you move to catch up with him. The two of you reach the front door, getting into your shoes in silence.

You risk a glimpse at him. He doesn't look angry, which you suppose is a good sign. He looks deep in thought as his brows are knit together.

---

Elvis turns down a backroad, his thumb drumming on the steering wheel. The radio is off and it is completely silent. The two of you have been driving now, you're guessing, for about ten minutes. In complete silence. Your nerves are shot and you just wish he would say something. As if reading your mind, he finally speaks up.

"Why were you in my room yesterday?"

Your face drains as you look out the window.

Shit. What do you say? You had been so careful. Maybe he's just guessing.

"What do you mean?" You ask, not taking the risk of looking at him.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Play stupid."

You sigh as you look at your hands, your palms already starting to sweat. You look over at him and he looks at you. He still doesn't look angry, which calms you a bit.

"I, uh-" you start, thinking of something to say.

You kick yourself for not thinking of what to say in the event that he had heard you.

"Honey, I'm not mad at ya'. I Just...I know you're lyin' to me. Not just about this."

A shock runs through you.

"How?" you say too quickly.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye before looking back towards the road.

"You're not a good liar."

You pause before asking your next question.

"Does anyone else know?"

He pauses for so long a moment, you're not sure if he heard you.

"I don't think so."

At least that's some good news. Okay. So he knows you're lying to him. He doesn't know the extent, though.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone in your room. I was...trying to see if you had found me with anything. Like a wallet, so I could remember some more things about myself. I remember my name is (y/n) but that's all."

Does he believe you? He is silent for a long moment, before letting a sigh fall from his lips.

"Alright well, that's somethin' I guess."

You wonder if he's going to ask ask you about the open dresser drawer and when you look at him again, his face is a little flushed.

"And you can uh- forget anything you might've seen in my room," he says rather awkwardly, a question in the inflection of his voice.

"Yes, I didn't see anything, Elvis," you agree, your face burning as you turn your attention to the road.

He nods his head.

"Okay then."

He then finally turns on the radio.

---

You sigh as you crack open Sound of Thunder, sitting on the same chair you sat in the first day you woke up here. You read the first page, the main character preparing to go back in time. You jump ahead to the moment the main character and his group actually go on the journey.

"First a day and then a night and then a day and then a night, then it was day-night-day-night-day. A week, a month, a year, a decade! A.D. 2055. A.D. 2019. 1999! 1957! Gone! The machine roared."

You look up from the book. You aren't sure how well this is going to help. You didn't travel in time by a big machine, it was a couch. You groan in frustration, shutting the book as you place it on the small table in front of you. Standing up, you walk over to the room's window that overlooked the backyard.

You allow your shoulders to relax, realizing just how tense you've been since you got here. Looking out towards the stables, you are surprised when you see Elvis emerge from one, holding the reins of a black horse. Your eyes follow him as he walks out towards the trail where the riding takes place.

You don't realize just how entranced you probably look until you see him turn suddenly, looking up at your window. You gasp as your face burns, instinctively ducking your head so he can't see you, although you're sure he's too far away to see much of anything.

You peek your head back up as he turns from the window, continuing on until he reaches the trail. He holds his horse steady as he sticks one foot in the shoe holder, mounting himself onto the animal. You take a moment to admire his form, the way the pants he's wearing hugs his thighs. How his button-up short sleeved shirt hangs loosely on him. You admire him for as long as you can before he rides out of sight.

You release a breath as you turn from the window, preparing to open the book again to search for more answers. Until you hear Sonny's voice.

"Jerry, what are you talkin' about?"

"I don't know Sonny, I just thought I saw somethin' when we found her. That's all I'm sayin'."

You heart leaps as you stand suddenly frozen, your ears straining to hear the conversation.

"What do you mean, what kind of things?"

"Like a purse, I think there was some stuff in there. Elvis wouldn't let me see what was in it."

Did they know you were up here? Apparently not.

"What, so you're sayin' she's lying or somethin'?"

Jerry hesitates.

"Well, I'm not too sure of that, maybe she really doesn't remember anything. I don't know, I could be wrong. I just know I saw somethin'."

Oh no. No, no, no. You're purse?! If they found you with it, where the hell is it now? And what was in it that Elvis wouldn't let Jerry see?

"Well, maybe Elvis just wants the girl to remember things for herself, you know so she doesn't lie or somethin' to stay longer."

This is a lame excuse, Sonny knows that as well as you. Why is he defending you? Why do you hear a softness in his voice towards you that you hadn't heard before? You decide to think about the meaning of this later, right now you need to stop this conversation.

You quietly rush to the bathroom to distract the men from talking further. Turning on the shower, you hear them come to a hushed conclusion of their talk before you hear footsteps on the stairs.

This is the worst case scenario. So Elvis does have your purse. Why is he hiding it?

You need to talk to him.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Taglist:

@horrorgirl4life @tantamount-treason @peaceloveelvis @sissylittlefeather @father-of-2cats @goldobsessionsworld @elvisalltheway101 @littlehoneyposts @atleastpleasetelephone @ccab @msamarican @presleyhearted

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Jimin - Muse (2024)

3/5 ☆

I thought it'd get me several days to come back here with some thoughts on Muse, but it proved it's not necessary.

Who as title track makes complete sense. We're still into 90s nostalgia, but it's a recipe that works. Not just in kpop, but pop in general. Looking at the charts, it paints a pretty clear picture for the last couple of years. Add the zoomer idea of a what a Y2K aesthetic is like and we get the recipe for today's music and concept. Repeat, reuse, recycle. How fitting for postmodernism.

Who is a really catchy tune, with lyrics easy to remember and sing out loud. A tad more commercial-sounding than Like Crazy, but that's Muse overall anyway. The truth is, I have the song on loop (streamers can't come for me, lol). I think Jimin's style of singing and the melody itself are a good fit. Lyric wise, it's sort of basic, but this is pop music made for mass consumption. I don't mind it. It's also radio friendly and definitely has the potential for summer hit, but I'm 99% sure it won't turn into one. BH won't move a finger to send it to radio and it's another song that will fall victim to fandom mass streaming to chart high for one week. I've seen this all before.

It's also a shame to have this released when an artist is away, without being able to properly promote it. In my non-expert opinion, it could have been released as a single a few months later after Face and scratch the rest of Muse or keep it in the drafts.

As to the other songs, perhaps Rebirth (Intro) is the only other song on the album that has something to it, it stands out a bit more and it also bridges the two albums, despite the connection being sort of flimsy.

Having Sofia Carson on Slow Dance had brought nothing to the song. It could have been a full Jimin track all the way. Her style of singing does not stand out and I find it a failed pair because there's no contrast or voices complementing each other. Jimin can sing just like her. If a collab is really wanted/needed/necessary, then I'd wish for a pairing that also makes sense vocal-wise.

Be Mine is ok, but it sounds too much like that one TXT song and I simply can't get over past it. It's afro beat and latino influence which has been all the rage in the past few years, which Hybe has been pushing a lot. It explains the song.

SGMB and Closer Than This were previously released and I'm not covering them again.

I think it's difficult for me to not make comparisons to Face, considering both albums were produced around the same period, without much time left in between them. One is simply more cohesive and has a depth that showcases a first solo attempt, while the other one is clearly going a more commercial route with less of a personal signature.

Despite Muse being promoted as another conceptual album, I find that umbrella to be a bit forced given that the theme of finding love is really a generic one. Perhaps way too generic with not much individuality. Does it show Jimin's vocal range? Yes. Does it show him trying various genres? Yes. In this case, perhaps Muse is a bit similar to Golden in some aspects, with the difference that Jimin gets producing and writing credits in 5/6 songs. So his involvement is greater, but the scope of the album is in the same category as Golden, which is another production that had this LOVE as an overarching theme. But without much more to it that would make it stand out lyrically. The focus on both is genre diversity and vocal capability.

In short: I like Who (I also like Ace of Base songs and all those silly 90s pop songs, so my music taste is most likely considered bad, but I don't care). I think Muse overall is an amalgam of whatever is trendy at the moment, without being able to truly stand out and say more about Jimin, apart from his capabilities as idol/performer. Perhaps that was the point too.

P.S. My inbox has been closed for anonymous asks since I reblogged a few days ago my post about using lyrics as clues for personal life. It seems that it invited homophobia and I won't have that here.

I'm keeping it that way for now because I'm sure my personal "review" on Muse will either be seen as an invitation for people to either bash me for not thinking it's the album of the year or to be seen as an opportunity for others to talk shit about Jimin, Who and the album overall. I found that usually there is no middle ground with kpop stans/army/Jimin stans, etc.

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 21/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 22

Enjoy!

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When Lucifer awoke again, Alastor was no longer there. He shifts to find Marigolds all over his bed with a note.

'To keep you from missing me, my lonely King. - Alastor'

Lucifer lets out a chuckle, picking up a Marigold to smell. He doesn't remember falling asleep but it was probably the best sleep he had had in a while. No dreams, no memories- just sleep. He would cry if the circumstances were different.

There's a bowl of cold gumbo on his bedside table and the sight made his stomach growl. He takes a bite and almost moans. Man, was he really this hungry? He didn't even think he could still get hungry as he doesn't need food to survive.

The opening of his door interrupted his gumbo filled thoughts to reveal Charlie who was carrying more flowers.

Lucifer: Char-char?

Charlie yelps in surprise, dropping the newly arrived flowers on the ground. He moves to help her but she hastily stops him.

Charlie: No, dad! It's fine, I got this. Sorry, you just surprised me. Haha. When I came back you were asleep again.

Lucifer: Sorry for startling you, sweetie. Are those still for me?

Charlie: Really, it's okay dad. And yes! From Uncle Leviathan. I think he's competing with Alastor of who can give you more flowers plus some denizens leaving some too, which is a problem because I think we're running out of room here. But I don't mind! I'm just glad you're appreciated.

Lucifer: oh..

Charlie, noticing her father's change in demeanour, gave him a sympathetic smile and comes closer. She holds his hands in hers and locks eyes with him.

Charlie: You saved all of Hell, dad. And a lot of people want to thank you for it. They want you to see that they care the moment you wake up. These flowers? This was actually Alastor's idea. He kind of let it slip that you're love language is gifts and he always appreciated when you gave him one. Don't tell him I said that.

Lucifer: It is?

Charlie: The hotel was getting a bit hounded of demons who wants to see and thank you. It was getting out of hand but then Alastor went on air.

She pulls out her phone, tapping her fingers until she found what she was looking for.

Alastor: Salutations, citizens of Hell! To commemorate this joyous day, the Hazbin Hotel is accepting gifts that one wish to give to our beloved King as a sign of appreciation for his valiant efforts! Gifts will be screened by hotel residents/staff first. No sneaking past our eyes now!

Alastor's voice through the recorded broadcast blares from her speaker.

Alastor: Failure to comply to this simple rule and you'll earn a special guest appearance in my radio broadcast. I'm very much excited to see anyone who tries haha!

Charlie: A lot of people were asking what you would like. But as soon as they saw royals coming in with flowers, they just went with that too. I've never seen Hell be this united before and it's because of you, dad. It's not perfect but... it's a step in the right direction.

It warms Lucifer's heart that his actions are helping his daughter's dream even by just a little. He didn't even care about what people might think of him after the whole thing but his daughter seem happy and that's the only thing that matters.

Suddenly, a thought came to mind.

Lucifer: Goodie!

Charlie: Goodie? Was that the woman you brought from Earth?

Lucifer: Yes. Where is she?!

Charlie: I don't actually know. Last I heard, she disappeared.

Lucifer: Huh?

Charlie: As still acting Queen, Uncle Satan told me that he managed to capture Goodie and put in custody but then a day later, he said she's just....gone. Some of his imps are out looking for her.

Lucifer: Knowing her, she may have already been on Earth. Damn it!

Charlie: Dad... what happened in there? I passed out before you went in and when I woke up, you guys were already here.

Lucifer: You passed out?! Are you okay, applepie??

Charlie laughs, pushing away her dad's fussy hands.

Charlie: I'm fine, dad. I was just worried about you. You really scared me.

Lucifer: Sorry.

Charlie: I said it's okay. But stop avoiding my question.

Lucifer: What question?

Charlie: Dad... You went to Earth to find this Goodie, to ask her for help. Help she couldn't give and in the end you're the one who still had to risk his life. Angel and the others said you were there for hours and then when you did come out, you look- You're not you! Aunt Bee said your aura was so bad, she couldn't stop vomiting. Please dad. Something happened in there.

Lucifer: .... Goodie's seal didn't work because it apparently needed to be in close contact with what you are using it for. As the strongest there, I was the most viable to perform it in close range. We couldn't risk losing someone just to see if it would kill them.

A little white lie would hurt no one (biggest misconception ever). But he couldn't bring it up to Alastor and definitely not to his daughter. Roo never said it has to be a secret but Roo isn't dictating his body yet so he'll make this one tiny stupid decision himself.

Lucifer: As for my appearance, it looks like Goodie's seal had side effects. Maybe being exposed to the toxic environment that closely altered my body. In the end, I'm not so sure. And this?-

He gestures to himself.

Lucifer: -Is a small price to pay for Hell's safety. For your safety.

Charlie: I'm sorry.

Lucifer: What? What for, honey?

Charlie: For what I said that day. I hurt you and I'm-

Lucifer: We both hurt each other, Charlie. As the parent, I should've done better. You were just a child. You were my child. And I abandoned you as much as Lilith abandoned us. I lost a wife but you? You lost both of us. And I could never blame or hate you for thinking that way.

Charlie: But, I would never wish that! I want you here as much as I want Mom. But the difference is, you're actually here, supporting me. Even if you weren't there from the beginning, you're here for the future. And I- I can't be more thankful you're still here.

She's sobbing now. The tears just won't stop and she feels herself being pulled in a hug.

Charlie: So stop punishing yourself, dad.

The King of Hell looks up at the ceiling, trying to blink the tears threatening to fall away. Why now? Why when he's finally reconnecting with his daughter? When he has a partner who loves him again? Why did Roo choose him? Why is this happening just when he's just learning to care and love for it?

He thinks about Roo's words-how his life will end one way or another, about the daughter he's going to make an orphan, the partner he's going to eventually widow, the found family who wormed their way into his heart, and a Kingdom he'll leave in ruins.

Lucifer can only hope that they come out alright, even if he doesn't.

Lucifer: I'll try my best, sweetie.

Charlie: Don't leave me again, dad.

He hugs tight like it's the last as he lets her continue to cry on his chest.

'Oh, Father. Is there anything more undoing than a child?'

[laura1633]

Do you think that there is a chance that Max would go to Mercedes ?

I think there is always a chance that anything could happen in F1. I remember seeing the Lewis to Ferrari social media reporting and laughing thinking it was just gossip and that turned out to be true.

I have added thoughts after the cut but they are a little incoherent.

First and foremost Mercedes would have to show that they are more competitive than Red Bull. They have had some good races this year but it seems dependent on the track and temperature and there have also been some mistakes strategically etc. At the moment it is still looking like Red Bull will be more competitive in 2025 but there is a long way to go this season and I don't think Red Bull fully understand the RB20 or know which direction to go in development-wise which is a huge concern. These cars are going to follow through to next year so if they are struggling to get to grips with it then next year could be very tricky. I can't quite work out how quick the RB20 is because I do genuinely believe that Max is an exceptional talent and is getting more out of the car than it deserves. So for now I don't think Mercedes have shown anything to suggest they will outperform Red Bull in 2025. 2026 is a complete unknown though and could be more weighted to who can produce a good engine.

I think Max would prefer to stay at Red Bull. He has been there since he was pretty much a child and they do seem to adore him. I do think it would be rather sad if Max had to leave that team, especially when I think back to his radio after winning the title and how he asked if they could do this for another ten years 😭 I also can't imagine Max without GP so I think it would depend on if GP would be willing to move 😬

I just don't think Mercedes is any more attractive than Red Bull right now unless Max has concerns about the 2026 regs.

If Red Bull don't get their shit together and fall behind and Mercedes still aren't an attractive option then maybe he will decide to go and race in another series as I doubt he wants to be driving a car if it's not even capable of winning. He has so much talent. Ultimately I don't think he needs to win 7/8 championships, he will still be considered one of the greatest of all time if he retired today. Going and competing in a different series would cement his racing legacy further if he was at all bothered about that.

I think for now Red Bull are just about on the pace (although I think Max is making them seem better than they are) so no need to panic but they do need to show that they have a clear direction for the car going forward. I refuse to live in a world where Max goes back to the number 33 and Lando is driving around in car number 1 (sorry Lando fans absolutely no offence meant but I am a Max girl.)

Honestly I trust him to do whatever is right for him with the information he has and even if that means he ends up sim racing full time and having the absolute time of his life then so be it. He's worked hard since he was a child, achieved his ultimate goal of a championship and deserves to enjoy himself. I will still cry like a baby when he eventually retires from F1.

In short, there is a chance that anything could happen but I think for now Red Bull is still the best option for him, they just need to keep pushing with the development and stop relying on Max (and the strategy team) to cover up for the lack of pace.

I also can't believe Max to Mercedes is an option after the way they talked about him in 2021 but things change and in F1 being in the right team at the right time is paramount.

I wish Ferrari could get their shit together because I would quite like to see him in red for a season (but Ferrari are still out there doing Ferrari like things)

Wow that was so long, I am so sorry.

[carniferous]

fic authors self-rec!

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love

thank you darling @static-radio-ao3 for tagging me

azalea petals on wet stone

darling mutuals already know about this one but yeah i do think the best thing i have ever posted is this 2k carrowcest softcore erotica fic that i posted anonymously bc i got nervous about my irls seeing..... i would never get on the internet and tell lies though so i must be open on here

2. one act play in which we never find the answer

i just really do think this fic turned out well and it was pretty ambitious for me (i hardly ever experiment with form). i just like it in the sense that this is a fic i would read -- and it is the only fic of mine that i reread for fun

3. ruin it all over

i just love angst and betrayal and war and sex in situations where sex undeniably makes the situation worse

4. lest you forget

in a lot of ways i feel like this is my silliest fic and i was the most embarrassed to post it out of all the ones on this list..... it's fluff..... writing it made me happy.... horrific i know...... but it gets its place on here

i'll be home for the summer

friends and mutuals know i have the biggest love-hate relationship with this fic EVERRRR. i think about it constantly. it's my nemesis and my horrid obsession. this is the longest thing i have written Ever and it built my confidence as a writer in ways that i cannot express enough. and at the same time there are parts of this that i hate and wish i could delete but then someone will comment telling me how much they loved it and then i feel silly for thinking about how Bad it is. this fic is my worstie..... and yes part of this is bc it's been two years and i still have not finished it. in many ways this was my college passion project. but what they don't tell you about your college passion project is that you will go back to the first chapter and cringe remembering the person you were when you wrote that. this is unavoidable

everyone i think has already been tagged but i'll go ahead and tag: @itsjaywalkers @nympheral @sixlane @velanavis and @moon-seas