#if we’ve had a million different conversations or only the one time

[helaintoloki]

hello, I would like to make a request, a story based on the last episode of yours, Five talking to another Five in the final conversation and they talk about his wife and Canon Five doesn't have one, thanks if you want

a/n: i absolutely loved writing this ty for sending this in ! <3

warnings: language, slight angst, spoilers

summary: Five discovers his missing piece

When Five stumbled into Max’s and came across an entire diner full of alternate versions of himself, about a million different questions raced through his mind. However, the most pressing issue he found himself wanting to address was the context behind the lovingly placed portrait of a woman on the wall.

“Who’s the girl?” He asks his counterpart, his eyes remaining glued to the painting. The woman’s smile was gentle, her eyes kind, and her face the most beautiful he’d ever seen. He almost felt drawn to it in a way, as if there was some type of magnetic pull gravitating his focus to her and only her. It was like seeing a ghost or a familiar face from a dream that you’re not quite able to place.

“Don’t you recognize her?” The other Five retorts perplexed, confusion clearly etched on his features. “That’s y/n.”

“Can’t say I’m familiar,” the Boy confesses with an apologetic sigh as he finally pulls his attention away from the painting and sets it back to the Five in front of him.

“No wonder you’re such a mess,” server Five notes with a diverted smile as he tops off their coffee. Calling over his shoulder, he announces to all Fives, “The poor bastard doesn’t have a y/n.”

Murmurs of surprise and astonished laughter fill the cafe at the news, prompting Five’s face to heat in embarrassment at being the butt of a joke he has no grasp of. What do these Fives know that he doesn’t?

“Could you please be so kind as to fill me in on who this y/n is,” he requests agitatedly through gritted teeth. Reaching into his pocket, his counterpart pulls out a weathered photograph and slides it across the table for Five to see.

“Y/n is the missing piece that completes every Five. We all meet her in different ways at different points of our lives, but every time she manages to anchor us back down to earth. Y/n is the glue that holds us together when everything goes to shit. She believes in us, sees the humanity in us despite the horrors we’ve seen and the atrocities we’ve committed. She gives us unconditional love even when we think we don’t need it, when we think it couldn’t possibly exist.”

As Fives look down at the photo before him, he sees himself- or rather, another version of himself- enveloping y/n in his arms. They stand in front of a beautiful home with a picket white fence and a garden full of flowers smiling with pure bliss. It’s clear that the woman loved this version of him by the adoring look in her eyes, and it’s even clearer that she meant everything to the Five sitting across from him.

“She means something different to each of us, but I was one of the Five’s lucky enough to make her my wife,” his companion notes with an evocative smile. “That photo was taken on our honeymoon.

“Where is she now?” Five asks somberly after handing back the photograph.

“Dead,” he replies quietly, releasing a mournful sigh as he sinks back into the booth. “Lost her in an accident while I was trying to stop the apocalypse for a third time. That’s when I decided it was time to hang in the towel.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“We had a good run together, I wouldn’t change any of it,” the replica admits with a reminiscent smile. He takes another look at the photo, committing it to memory before handing it back to Five. “I think you need this more than I do. You may not have had the chance to know your y/n, but judging by the look on your face when you spotted the portrait I have a good feeling you would have loved her just the same.”

Gingerly taking the photograph back, Five stops to admire her gentle features and adoring smile before tucking it safely into the pocket of his suit. “Thank you.”

“You know what you have to do to fix the timelines,” the other Five firmly instructs him. “Just promise me you’ll do by right by my wife. She deserves a safe timeline to live in, one where she can grow old and be happy.”

Rising from his seat at the booth, Five takes one last longing look at the portrait on the wall before returning his gaze to the boy in front of him.

“You have my word.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Lies in the dark

Pairing: boyfriend!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 3,8k

Synopsis: You received pictures of Satoru cheating on you, his longtime girlfriend, with other women. Completely heartbroken you leave him without hearing his side of the story. After weeks of drowning yourself in alcohol, the two of you meet again at Jujutsu High.

Warnings: cheating, language, use of alcohol/drugs, hurt

Your foot tabs against the floor while you wait for his puny figure to arrive in the doorframe. By now it’s far after midnight, actually you are dead tired from all the crying and thinking. But this can’t wait.

“Oh, what a pleasant surprise! I didn’t expect you to be awake this late!”

There he stands, casually taking off his blindfold while blessing you with his best cheeky grin. Satoru’s sight alone makes your gut twist in anger and disgust. He really has some nerves to welcome you like that after all he has done.

“You’re pretty late.”

Your voice sounds so cold that Gojo’s blood freezes in his veins. His smile is washed away in an instant, he has never seen you like this. Has something happened? Are you upset for some reason?

“Why do you look like someone died? I’m home, sweet thing!”

Your emotionless eyes glare at him through the darkness of the apartment. Damn, how could you fall for him and his stupid little game? Did you really believe him when he told you that you are the only one, the one and only woman in his life? Fuck, you were so dumb. Too stupid to realize that it isn’t work that makes him come home this late at night. Your mind is numb to the feeling of being betrayed, it isn’t the first time that you get screwed. But you thought that Satoru is somehow different, that he values your feeling more. Well, so much for that.

“Maybe you’re so late because you were with her, huh?”

He glances at you like he has to think about your words, eyebrows narrowed.

“Who do you mean exactly? Mei is out of town. Oh, I visited Shoko because she patched a student back together, but that was in the afternoon. Or was it? I don’t remember exactly…“

Enough of that bullshit. You don’t offer him any more words, instead you just throw your phone at him. The phone that reveals countless messages about meetings, fucking and mocking with other women, pictures of him caressing their basic faces in the way you knew all too well, giving them the affection late at night that you craved so much. And then the words of the woman that called you earlier…

“When he called me sweet thing I thought I was the only one for him until I saw you two on the streets the other day. He never mentioned he had a girlfriend!”

“I began investigating and as it seems, he had a thing with many other women as well. I’ll send you screenshots of every conversation we’ve had the last couple months.”

Sweet thing. The thought of him using your nickname for other woman makes you want to break down and cry. But even though your heart is shattered into a million little pieces, you refuse to gift him a single tear. No, he doesn’t deserve your agony. He doesn’t deserve to see the feelings you have for him. Instead, you just stare at him with blank eyes while sitting in your chair and watching his blue orbs widen in shock.

“(y/n)”, he breathes out, gaze wandering from the screen to you.

“Let me explain-“

“No need to explain anything. I don’t care about how much I liked you and wished this wasn’t true. I told you I’ll leave you alone if you make me feel this way. And I’m fucking leaving, Gojo. Don’t you dare follow me. Y’know, I’m not your backup plan, good luck with whatever you got going on.”

With a swift motion, you lift yourself off the chair and grab your already packed suitcase.

“You can’t leave without hearing my side! I never cheated on yo-“

“Might be true that there’s always two sides to a story. Fuck your weak ass side tho. I’m done here.”

Heels clicking against the hard floor underneath your feet, you confidently cross the room and expand yourself in front of him. Satoru’s huge frame blocks the door, you can’t just get past him. But you need to get out of this apartment filled with dreadful memories and your shattered hopes as soon as possible before you have a complete breakdown.

“I’m serious Gojo.”

“It’s baby for you.”

“Bet she calls you that too. Get away from the door, we are done.”

“(y/n), hear me out”, his form moves towards you, like a predator approaching its prey.

No, you can’t. You don’t want him to get that close to you. You can’t stand him near you.

“Stay away from me”, you choke out, arms wrapped around yourself in a desperate attempt to console your own aching heart.

“I loved you for 8 years, 8 fucking years Satoru! I gave you everything I had and you trampled on that by fucking another woman so basic that I want to throw up. I have nothing more to say to you, it’s enough that I have to endure the sight of you at every damn meeting of jujutsu sorcerers. Now get.out.of.the.way.”

Your cruel words make even Satoru’s heart jump in agony, his shaky breath fills the air. Do you really want to break up with him without giving him the chance to explain himself? He has so much to say, so much to clarify. Fuck, he could end all this madness and your suffering. But it doesn’t matter. He has no choice but to let you go for the moment. Satoru knows you well enough to be aware of the fact that you won’t listen to him in your wrath, always suborn and confident. Apart from that, he himself has no idea who sent these messages to you and where these pictures come from. He has to investigate the matter first before he can face you again. As much as his whole body struggles against it, he takes a step to the side in order to let you go for the moment.

“I love you with all my heart and I’ll do anything to prove that you are the only one for me.”

Boom.

You close the door behind you noisily. Enough of that lying. You stumble into the fresh air of the night, tears pooling your eyes and taking away your sight. Get a hotel, take a hot shower, turn off your phone. Get over the fact that your boyfriend of 8 fucking years cheated on you, get over the fact that your relationship ended in the foulest way. God, it hurts so bad that you want to break down in the middle of the street, your numb limbs still in shock. But you need to get going. After all, you are a grade 1 sorcerer, everyone counts on your abilities. And a man who doesn’t value you shouldn’t be the reason you forget yourself and your aspiration. _________________________________________________________

Hey girl, need a ride to Jujutsu High? Meeting up in 15 min

You sign at the message of Mei on your phone. It’s been three weeks. Three weeks without seeing Satoru’s cheating face, three weeks in which he called you at least 10 times a day, three weeks of constant crying in the pillows of random hotels and filling yourself up with alcohol at clubs around the town. You feel like crap and look even worse from time to time. But today, you have to get yourself together. For the sake of your job, for the other people you care about like Mei and Nanami. Do all of them know what happened? Probably not, you only told Mei about it and Satoru would hardly admit that he cheated on you multiple times.

Do I really have to?

Your white uniform lies untouched in your suitcase, memories of last mission flood your mind. You were with him, laughing, playing, clapping the asses of multiple curses all at once. Everything was fine, everything was great. Life can change so quickly.

Of course you have to, dumbass.

But you have no other choice. With trembling fingers, you put on the white dress with long sleeves and cut outs that emphasize your curves so well and caught the attention of Satoru first. It fits a little looser than usual. Well, given the fact that you mostly live on drinks that’s no surprise. You put on your round sunglasses to hide the dark circles under your eyes which can be no longer covered by makeup and brush through your hair a few times. Admittedly, you look better than the last few weeks, but definitely worse than usual.

Your cream colored heels click against the marble floor of the hotel lobby as you walk outside, Mei’s car already waiting for you.

“You look better than I thought”, she comments when you sit beside her.

“Thanks I guess, gold digger.”

She gives you a small smile before her eyes get serious again.

“I’m here for you today, ‘kay? Might hire someone who kills him though…”

“You would spend money for me? Damn, you must really like me Mei”, you remark sarcastically.

“I’d do anything for you girl. Let’s get this over with, huh?”

The journey goes by far too quickly for your taste, fingertips already shaking at the thought of seeing his stupid pretty face again. What was he doing all this time? Your gut twists in agony. Probably went out with his other women, what else? Do you seriously think he missed you? That breakup doubtless hurt you ten times more than him. His face will wear the same stupid grin as always, his words will sound just as irresponsible as usual. Everything stays the same. Except for the fact that you aren’t by his side anymore.

“God, since when is this ass so punctual”, Mei hisses.

And there he stand, wearing his sunglasses and uniform, leaned against the doorframe while he probably drives Utahime mad with his mocking. Suddenly you are out of breath, lungs refusing their service as your eyes fill with salty tears again. No, you can’t cry now. You were so cool when you left him. He doesn’t deserve your tears or to see your pain. His cheating ass isn’t worth your throbbing.

“Keep it cool”, Mei speaks out with low voice.

Yes, you need to keep it cool. Straighten your back, swing your hips, show him that you don’t care about him at all.

“What’s up everyone”, you snort out, hand resting against your hips while eyeing everyone except Satoru.

“Wow, you’re early. Since when do you come on time?”, Nanami dryly responses.

“Why so rude, Kento? I thought you’d be happy to see me again, we are best friends since school after all!”

“You are a pain in the ass, (y/n).”

Fuck, you can feel his eyes almost eating you up. Your cheeks begin to burn just by the thought of it.

“Are you alright, (y/n)? You look a little thinner than last time”, Utahime comments, turning away from Satoru.

You swallow hard, panic rises inside your chest. For the first time, you don’t want everyone’s attention on you. Come on, just that meeting. An hour and you’re rid of him, an hour and you’re holed up in a random club again.

“You’d lose some weight too if you were me, Utahime. Now stop looking at my perfect ass and get going.”

Your remark catches everyone off guard, especially Satoru and his guilty conscience. For your standards, you look absolutely horrible and your answers have lost their bite. You are just the shell of yourself that slightly smells like alcohol.

“Hey, if there’s something going on…You know we can talk, right?”, Nanami discretely murmurs into your ear, worry lines draw his face.

“Thanks man, I don’t need anybody but myself though.”

And with that, you turn on your heels and walk through the door. Away from his hungry sight, away from their annoying questions. One damn meeting to get over with. One.damn.meeting.

“You look like shit”, Masamichi notes dryly while watching you sit down.

“Stop being so fucking annoying or I’ll quit”, you bark back, glaring at him through the shade of your glasses.

“What’s up your ass, (y/n)? You’re annoying as hell, but in another way. Are you alright?”

You can’t take it anymore. All the questions and fucking looks. As if the slight change of your appearance is the only thing that’s interesting at the moment. Yeah, you are as fine as you can be, on the brick of tears, mind racing just by the thought of Satoru looking your direction, let alone talk to you. But that’s none of anyone’s business. If you have to repeat one more time what happened a few weeks ago you’ll probably break down.

“Stop asking questions and get this meeting over with, I’m not payed enough to be here”, Mei interrupts and positions herself beside you.

It’s all a blur. The words that come out of his mouth seem to fade away before hitting your ear. All you can think about is Satoru who sits towards you, eyes darted on your figure. You don’t have to look at him to be aware of the fact that he is eyeing you up and down, waiting for a chance to talk to you.

Over the last couple of weeks, he tried to call you multiple times, not scared by the fact that you blocked him on every possible communication way the slightest. Why does he have to keep rubbing salt in the wound? The moment your phone rings and his name appears on the screen, you relive the fateful moment of realization over and over again, imagining him fucking another woman mercilessly while you sit at home and wait for him to come back. You know that you are too good for that, that the best thing you could do was leaving his cheating ass as soon as possible. But in your lonely nights when returning from a random club after talking to random strangers you find yourself lying in bed and cry your heart out over the relationship you thought was the best thing that could have happened to you.

“(y/n)?”

“Ayo, you there?”, Mei murmurs into your ear and punches your arms slightly.

You have to blink the pain away, still consumed by Gojo’s presence. Your heart skips a beat. Was someone talking to you?

“I just wish I was somewhere else”, you mutter, eyes directed to the ground.

Fuck, you feel like crying all over again. Why does it have to hurt this bad? Why does he have to be here, eying you up and down as if you were his prey? Why did he have to cheat on you and destroy the live you built together? All of that isn’t fair. You shouldn’t be sitting here, running on drinks with a few hours of sleep a week and a bleeding heart while he seems to be just fine. Your conscience shouldn’t weigh on you when you’re talking to a guy while Satoru is fucking his way through the world.

“(y/n)?”

Your name out of his sinful mouth makes your gut turn in disgust, you feel like throwing up.

“Get my name out of your dirty mouth”, you jeer at him, eyes yanking up to notice that he’s already staring at you with his face all serious.

You can’t take it anymore. With shaky legs you lift yourself up, leaving the room with fast steps. The tears in your eyes start to burn their way through your face and take your sight completely. After all, maybe you aren’t strong enough to simply get over his betrayal. God, you loved Satoru with all your heart. In all these years there was never another guy you even found attractive. You were so loyal, in love and fucking dumb. Too dumb to realize that he in fact does seem to think that you are replaceable.

“Get your ass back in, Gojo. I dare you!”, Mei’s voice threatens from afar.

“(y/n), please hear me out. Give me a chance to explain!”

No, no, no. You can’t bare him near you, let alone hearing your name out of his mouth. You need to leave and never return.

“(y/n)!”

You feel his grip around your left wrist, his touch burning like acid on your highly sensitive skin. God, how often you longed for his touch, to feel his tender fingertips one last time. But this is not right. The thought of his hands caressing you after fondling with other woman makes you want to vomit and burn alive.

“Get your dirty hands off me!”, you cry out, other hand slapping against his cheek at high tempo.

His infinity doesn’t stop your fist from hitting his face with full force. You stare at his motionless figure, breath hanging heavy between the both of you.

“Please, give me a minute to explain. The last few weeks were absolute hell for me and I’ve been dying to see you today.”

Hot tears swell up your eyes once more while agony seems to consume you all over again. Hell for him? What about you? The constant feeling of not being enough, the questions lingering your mind how long this has been going on behind your back, the endless waterfall of tears, not being able to drink enough to forget him.

“You have to be kidding. Tell me you’re not serious about that bullshit. Hell for you? You fucking ripped be apart, Satoru! You throw our life away for sex with a few young chicks! You have no right to be sad about anything!”, you scream on top of your lungs, fighting desperately to escape his scorching touch around your wrist.

“I didn’t cheat on you, (y/n)! I-“

“So I’ve been imagining these pictures of you on top of that slut and the countless messages? Stop this shit right now! You’ve done enough. You-“

“Listen to me, damn it!”, he yells, ruffling his messy hair.

Why? Why does he have to keep rubbing salt in your already throbbing wound? Everything was just fine, you two were inseparable. What about growing old together? What about building a live together? All that, gone in the wind. Just because he decided to fuck someone else.

“The man you see on these pictures isn’t me, I don’t know these women, (y/n). I began to investigate. The man you see is a cursed spirit, a damn strong one that is able to take on the appearance of other living being, including my handsome self. I wish I could tell you why, I wish I could tell you who the hell that woman is. We assume that someone wants to set you off against me so that we both get vulnerable.”

He tears the blindfold from his face, revealing tears that glister in his glossy eyes. Your heart sinks, all you can do is stare at him in a desperate attempt to understand what he’s saying. Can it…be true?

“We?”

“Nanami helped me out. He knows this technical stuff better than I do. (y/n), I would never hurt you like that, not in a million years. You mean everything to me, it kills me to see you hurt like that, even though I absolutely understand why you believed in all of this and didn’t wanna talk with me. Just please, I’m begging on my knees if I have to, give me a chance to find out more about this madness and trust me with this one.”

You don’t know what is happening to you, it feels like you’re going to puke. Is this really true? Did he in fact not cheat on you with these women? His explanation sounds plausible and the shimmer in his eyes tells you that he’s not lying. Satoru was always bad at not telling the truth, his pupils always widen. Not right now though.

You want to collapse on the floor, your head seems to weight a ton from all these emotions, thoughts and possibilities.

“Why didn’t you tell me right from the start?”, you blurt out, voice coated in anger.

“Would you have really listened to me if I had no evidence? I took photos with that thing and couldn’t hold myself back from killing that fucker. Nanami was with me. Please, (y/n). Please believe me.”

You take in the pictures, how there seems to be two Gojo’s in each one. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is all too much. You don’t know what to think or feel. Is this true? Is there really something like a spark of hope left for your relationship?

“No”, you confirm.

You close your eyes for a moment to organize your thoughts and calm your breathing. All this time, Satoru never showed any interest in other woman, he doesn’t even stay in contact with Mei or Shoko regularly. He has no problem with you using your phone to write messages to Nanami or Yuji when he’s busy with something else. No, since you’ve known him, there was never a cause for concern. Satoru tells you over and over again how much he loves you, sometimes you even thought that he might be obsessed with you.

Maybe he didn’t cheat, maybe he did. But doesn’t your longtime boyfriend deserve a trust bonus, a chance to show you that nothing ever happened between him and these women?

When you open your eyes again, they are pooled by tears. Since that dreadful evening, you never allowed yourself to miss, let alone think about him. You tried to drown your feelings in alcohol and drugs. But now he’s standing in front of you, everything could be fine, all of this could be nothing but a failed attempt to separate the two of you. Deep within, you always hoped for it to be a nightmare, a stupid misunderstanding. Is that all it is?

“I-I thought I’ve l-lost you forever”, you stutter.

He doesn’t hesitate. In an instant he pulls you into his arms, presses your body against his beating heart and trembling frame. God, how much you missed getting lost in his warm embrace, to feel his breath brush against your ears. Just now you realize how much it killed you to be away from him.

“Can’t imagine how much I missed you. The thought of losing you…”, his voice breaks and so does your heart.

“I love you Satoru. I love you more than anything else.”

You get lost against his lips, put all the grief of the last weeks into this one kiss.

“Let’s get home, shall we?”, he whispers against your lips.

“Home. Yeah, that sounds pretty good…”

[slytherinshua]

MISUNDERSTOOD KISS

genre. fluff. warnings. small misunderstanding. shinyu is vv shy. first kiss :( not proofread. pairing. shinyu x fem!reader. wc. 1k. request. requested by anon. a/n. finally came back to finish this bcuz it's been just dying in my drafts for a hot minute ngl 😭 but i gotta feed the starved sai's as much as i can <333

Junghwan had been thinking of it for weeks now. Whenever he tried to get his mind off of it, it only backfired. “It” was, of course, your lips. Junghwan swore you were doing it on purpose, putting on the prettiest lip glosses and lip tints just to tempt him. They only made your lips seem all the more inviting.

But the problem was, you had only been dating for a few weeks. Sure, you had been friends for years and were more comfortable with each other than anyone else, but you both wanted to take it slow. Junghwan would hate to rush something as important as your first kiss.

He’d never kissed anyone before, and the thought of it made him hot in the face. He was sure he was crazy for thinking about it so much. Why was he so down bad for you?

You were already like an addiction to him. Just seeing you made his day a million times better— he just knew that the second he tasted your lips, there would be no going back. He could barely even comprehend how obsessed he would be with your kisses. Hugs already made him feel giddy and so so in love. And when you cuddled with him? God, he was so whipped for you.

He had always been shier than you, more reserved and quiet. That was how you became friends in the first place; you basically adopted him as your friend. He would forever be grateful to you for that. He would probably still be the socially anxious loser kid he used to be if you hadn’t helped him out of his shell in high school. Now that you were both in college and dating, things were quite different. He finally had friends, a girlfriend, and was more confident than ever before.

But that didn’t change the fact that you still made him shy. Thinking about you caused butterflies to swarm in his stomach and his heart to melt right out of his chest. You meant so much to him, and in some ways, he was deathly afraid of messing something up. If he started moving too fast, would that scare you? 

The lingering doubts stopped him from making a move to kiss you already, although there had been several times he had come incredibly close to it. During one movie night, he could’ve sworn you started to lean in. Another occasion when he had walked you home, you had stalled at your doorstep, as if waiting for him to do something. But Junghwan was still terrified of messing up… so he took the safe option.

“Is there something… wrong? With me?” You asked, deciding to finally address something that had been bothering you for a while. 

You had been dating Junghwan for almost 2 months now, and he still hadn’t kissed you. Despite your attempts to silently let him know that you were okay with it; leaning in when the timing felt right, picking romance movies with obvious kiss scenes, even bringing it up in conversation at times. Nothing seemed to be working, though, and you were starting to think that maybe he didn’t want to kiss you at all.

“No. You’re perfect, why would you think that?” Junghwan’s answer came so quick and sure, like he didn’t even have to think about it. If he was so convinced about it, then why hadn’t he made a move yet?

“We’ve been dating for almost 2 months now…” Junghwan looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue. You took a breath, “We still haven’t kissed yet. Is there something… unattractive about me? Do you not want to? Was I the only one constantly thinking about it?”

Your boyfriend blinked, stunned by your question. Of all the things he expected you to bring up, it definitely wasn’t this. He had never even considered that what he thought of as taking the ‘safe option’ in order to assure he didn’t make you uncomfortable, was causing doubts in your mind about his affection for you. No wonder he felt like he was messing up so badly.

“No, oh my gosh, no! Y/n, I swear, I’ve thought about it too. Every day— I want to kiss you, I swear! I really, really—” His panicked rambling was cut off by you, by your lips.

You just couldn’t take it anymore. He was so fucking cute. You could instantly forgive him for all the weeks of doubting and overthinking he had put you through, finding him incredibly endearing as he tried to fix the mess he had made. You couldn’t help but focus on his lips as the words started to spill out. Those same lips that you had been so fixated on for weeks, longing to taste for so long. 

It was like he was purposefully testing you every time he licked them or subconsciously nibbled on them. They always looked so incredibly soft and plush. Now that you were finally feeling them under yours, you could only describe the feeling as euphoric. It was everything you could’ve hoped for— even better than you could’ve imagined, in fact.

He gasped in surprise when you cut his words off, but his eyes were quick to flutter shut at the feeling of your lips. Junghwan had been originally worried that the kiss might be awkward, that his rhythm would be wrong, or that he would go too fast or too slow. But you found him perfect. 

He was slow. He was gentle and soft and caring, kissing you as if any slight amount of pressure too much would break you. And you loved it. It felt safe. Junghwan always made you feel that way, like nothing about him could ever scare you. He would always go exactly at your pace, making sure you were comfortable no matter what. He never overstepped, never expected anything overwhelming from you. Even as he kissed you, his lips portrayed the same feeling. The kiss was tentative just like his nature, but you could feel the eagerness and longing that he held at the same time. 

When you pulled apart, he was breathless. It felt like the kiss had consumed him entirely and left his mind spinning endlessly. He could barely think of what to do next, but he knew that he wanted to feel your lips on his again, so he decided to be bold, pulling you back into his arms despite his breathless state.

“Kiss me again.”

↳ tws taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @seunghancore,, @sobun1est,, @talkingsaxy,, @50-husbands,,

@hursheys,, @imyuna-06,, @mjupis,, @stannwjnss,, @nonononranghaee

[pastanest]

George Weasley x she/her Hufflepuff!reader

A/N: recovered by the lovely @paintyourviolence !! thank you so much! ♡ if you’re wondering why I’ve had to repost this imagine, please check out this post

Would You Be So Kind

It truly isnt fair. It hasnt been for years. To be precise, you have been living an unjustifiably cruel life for the past four years, almost to the day.

You remember it like it was yesterday; the excitement bubbling in you as the train travelled closer and closer to your new school, your school for magic. The very kind Harry Potter had given you a seat in his carriage, alongside another boy who you came to know as Ron Weasley. It was their first year, too, and they were both as excited as you were, but unlike you, they could verbalise their excitement and hold actual conversations. Meanwhile, you sat and watched the world blur by through the windows on the other side of the carriage door, since both boys were situated by the carriage window. As the snack trolley arrived, and the sweet old lady asked if any of you would be buying anything, there was a steady thudding down the train, growing louder as it neared; until two taller red-headed boys almost ran directly into the trolley. Upon being stopped, they smiled at Ron through the door.

“Just our luck, we’ve only ended up by Ron’s carriage!” One of the twins teased, laughing.

The other twin chuckled along with his brother, then gestured to Harry. “Go on then, introduce us to your new friends!”

Ron sighed dramatically. “Harry Potter.”

The first twin that had spoken, Fred, raised his eyebrows. “Blimey!”

Harry waved politely. “Hello!”

The second twin that had spoken, George, smiled at you kindly.

“And who’s this?”

You realised he was looking to you for an answer to that question, and considering the question was only asking your name, it seemed a reasonable one to ask you, but at that exact moment you discovered that you could not speak.

“That’s (Y/N).” Ron answered for you, much to your relief, but the embarrassment had already set in, and you avoided everyone’s eyes, choosing instead to stare down at your lap.

George Weasley squeezed between the trolley and the carriage door partially, leaning just slightly closer to you.

“Hey, dont worry, everyone’s nervous on their first day. It’ll all feel normal in no time!” He encouraged sweetly, a gesture that was completely unnecessary in the circumstance of you two still being strangers, but when you lifted your head and met the genuine smile on George Weasley’s face, your heart seemed to recognise him.

In the four years that have passed since that day, your interactions with George have been minimal. You couldn’t help feeling gutted when the sorting hat sent you to the Hufflepuff table. Though you realised almost immediately that it was where you belonged, it put a further rift between you and the boy that already felt a million miles away with the two year age gap alone. Thankfully, despite being restricted to a different common room, you did have regular classes with Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and the most intelligent person you’d ever met: Hermione Granger. The three of them being in a different house didn’t seem to deter them from maintaining their friendship with you, and although you do have friends in your own house by now, you still frequently enjoy the company of the Golden Trio. And on a few, precious, perfect occasions, being with them has caused you to cross paths with George Weasley.

Especially in your first year, during which you and Hermione spent almost every free period in the library. It wasn’t guaranteed, but the possibility of a teacher sending Fred and George to fetch a particular book from the library was a decently common occurrence. You had never known a teacher to not have a book they needed already in their classroom, but upon asking Ron about it, he said his older brothers likely went into classrooms beforehand to steal books and put them in the library in order to have an excuse to leave lessons. This rebellious streak made George all the more appealing to you, unfortunately. But it wasnt merely the reason for their visits to the library that worsened your symptoms; every single time Fred and George wandered into the library, George would spot you and give you that same genuine smile. And every single time, you would smile back, completely flustered. So flustered in fact, that you had been known to drop the library books you were carrying to yours and Hermione’s chosen table, or you would trip over your own feet and Hermione would rush over to help you, while George gave you a worried expression that you treasured, followed by the question of whether you were alright.

“Always the clutz!” You would say, making him laugh.

Eventually, it happened enough times for him to make that comment before you could.

Obviously, witnessing those interactions in first year meant Hermione was completely clued in on your crush. Back then, it felt very childish to even consider the possibility of him having any interest in you, because you quite literally were a child, not even a teenager yet, like he was. And as children often do, you expected to grow out of your childhood crush. But much to your dismay, George Weasley would not allow that.

The older you got, the more comfortable you got with casually bumping into the Weasley twins, always saying hello to George and then Fred in order to try and hint that you were in love with him. It didnt work, but you kept trying.

You’d wave at them in passing, exchange small talk on occasion, and George would always give you that same smile. Ever since second year, when he and Fred arrived back at Hogwarts having had an extreme growth spurt, that smile would look down at you, and that only made things worse. Especially when that growth spurt didn’t seem to stop, and George’s smile kept lifting further and further out of your reach. And let’s not forget your third year, when George grew his hair out to frame that smile high above you. A masterpiece that was definitely worth framing, you thought. Honestly, if he had kept his hair that long, you dont know if you would have survived.

By now, your Hufflepuff friends as well as the Golden Trio are all too aware of your crush on George Weasley. Ron, in particular, loves to tease you about it. When Hermione gave you the password to the Gryffindor common room in your third year so that you could meet her in her dormitory to study, Ron had grinned cheekily.

“Something tells me (Y/N)’ll be using that password more than any of us!” He teased, and despite the fact his joke was incredibly vague in its exact meaning, you were mortified, because the twins happened to walk by at that exact moment.

“Ooh, a Hufflepuff’s got our password? Do we have a fellow rebel on our hands?” Fred wiggled his eyebrows at you, and you buried your face in your hands.

“No!” You squeaked.

George leant down to nudge you gently. “Hey, if you get caught sneaking in, just say we gave you the password.”

And again, his voice pulled you from your own embarrassment, right back to that smile.

It is honestly infuriating how kind he is to you. Even now, in fourth year, you aren’t in any way used to it, because George seems to excel in charms more and more, both inside and out of a classroom, every year. Just today, you happened to be walking across the courtyard when you spotted George totally by chance, laughing with Fred, and the sight of him so happy was distracting enough to make you trip and fall in the grass. Initially, you cursed yourself for walking without Hermione to assist you if you fell, and you scrambled onto your knees to pick up your scattered books. It was then, you felt a large hand press ever so delicately against your back.

“Always the clutz?” He had chuckled, and your heart skipped a beat simply because he remembered an inside joke from your first year.

Then, George was helping you pick up your books, and soon enough Fred ran over to help you, too. Fred took ahold of your books while George helped you back to your feet, the pair of Weasley’s towering over you, but you couldn’t look away from George.

“Thank you.” Was all you could manage as Fred passed you your books.

You saw that smile, and then you were scampering off before your heart could leap right out of your chest.

Now, you’re pacing around the Gryffindor common room while Hermione, Ron and Harry sit on one sofa, their eyes watching you as you embody your stress.

“Why the HELL does he do this?! What did I do to deserve this kind of torture!?!” You sigh, raking your fingers through your hair.

The fireplace crackles obnoxiously, setting your teeth on edge. If it wasn’t the only current source of light in the room, you would take your shoes off to stomp it out with your bare feet, it’d be less painful than - and a wonderful distraction from - thinking about George Weasley.

Ron laughs. “It’s hardly torture, (Y/N), he helped you up when you fell over.”

Your fiery gaze makes him shrink into the sofa, and Hermione elbows him in the ribs for good measure.

“It is absolutely torture for George Weasley - an infamous prankster - to show unwavering kindness to (Y/N); anyone with a crush on him would be smitten by him treating them differently to everyone else!” Hermione corrects him, and you nod at her gratefully as you continue your pacing.

“Sometimes I wish one of you would Obliviate me so I’d forget that first day on the train, and every moment with him after. It’d save me YEARS of pain! I am tired.” You groan in frustration, shaking your head.

“Well, have you tried telling him?” Harry speaks up, and you spin on your heel, staring at him like he’s insane.

“Of course she hasn’t! The lack of answers is what has made this so much worse, you simply must tell him!” Hermione pleads, and you scoff, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest as heat rises to your face.

“So, what? You think I should just waltz right up to him and say ‘Hey, George, not sure if you’re aware but I thought I’d let you know that I’m head over heels in love with you and I’d appreciate it if you could act like a total dick to me so I can get over this because there is no way in hell you feel the same way’?” You pause to laugh. “Hermione, Im gonna be honest, I think I would rather take the entire school population’s OWL’s in one sitting.” The silence that follows your words makes you frown. “What? Do you actually think I should say that to him? Are you all in deluded agreement?!”

The three of them stare at you with wide eyes.

“U-Uh, (Y/N)...” Ron utters nervously, making your stomach twist with worry.

“You might want to...turn around.” Harry finishes Ron’s sentence, and your blood runs cold.

Swallowing hard, you shake your head. “No, no I don’t think I want to turn around. Actually, I am suddenly overwhelmingly tired, hope you don’t mind Hermione but I’m going to take a quick nap in your bed right this second-“ You attempt to run past the sofa, but Hermione grabs hold of you, stopping you.

“Good thing you wont have to take all those OWL’s.” A voice says from behind you, and you have never wished harder that you had a talent for falling unconscious, or dying, on command.

The room is silent again, save for the fire still crackling away. Hermione’s arms slowly let go of you, recognising that you are as good as petrified.

“C’mon, we’d better give these two some space.” You hear Fred say, and then he’s ushering the Golden trio up the stairs, into their dormitories.

Closing your eyes, you lift your left hand to pinch your right arm as hard as you can, but to no avail. This is not a dream, and you are doomed.

“(Y/N), look at me.” George pleads, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it before.

You shake your head. “Cant.”

His voice is closer to you when he speaks up again. “Why?”

You open your eyes, focussing your gaze on the wall ahead of you. “Because I won’t be able to think straight if I do.”

And despite not being able to see him, you can hear the genuine shock in George’s voice. “I didn’t know you had it that bad…I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

You sigh, nodding slowly. “No, it’s alright, really. You were only being nice. Admittedly, you being a dick to me would have been a much kinder form of rejection than this, but at least I can say goodbye to the days of chest pains and speechlessness.”

George’s voice is even closer now. “Oh, (Y/N).” And before you can register what’s happening, George’s much larger hand has wrapped around yours and gently pulled you around to face him. “I wasn’t apologising for leading you on, because I haven’t been. I was apologising for not plucking up the courage to be honest with you sooner. If you’re looking for rejection, I’m afraid I’m not the man.”

You blink rapidly, very much struggling to wrap your head around George’s words, especially when he’s standing so close to you, holding your hand, and looking down at you like that.

“But...how? How long have you…?” The objective to ask a simple question is failed, your mind scrambled by too many things that all fall under the umbrella term of George Weasley.

“Well, I’ve noticed that you only seem to fall over, trip over, and get all shy when I’m talking to you. Even asked Ron if you act like that around anyone else, he said no.” George explains, smiling away, and you have to focus as hard as you can to not swoon right in front of him. He checked that you only acted that way around him?

“Remind me to kick Ron’s ass for not telling me you did that, but there’s a more pressing matter at hand.” You clarify, causing George to laugh as he nods.

“Agreed.”

You sigh, your gaze falling to the floor. “I know you know that I like you, but that’s not enough-“

George interrupts you, shaking his head dramatically. “I like you, (Y/N)! Im just a wuss! Wussiest Gryffindor around! Maybe I should’ve been put in Hufflepuff…”

Your head snaps up as you gasp and playfully smack George on the shoulder for his house-ist comment, making him chuckle.

“In all seriousness, though, we don’t know each other that well, but we clearly have some kind of mutual attraction to each other, and I don’t see the harm in figuring out what that means.” He suggests, shrugging casually, and your stomach flips, a beaming smile taking over your face and confirming to George that you’re onboard with his idea. “Okay, so, do you want to accompany me to the library for some studying?”

You’re about to answer when the two of you hear Hermione shouting from the room above.

“GEORGE WEASLEY, (Y/N) DESERVES MORE THAN A FIRST DATE OF STUDYING!”

Casting your gazes up to the ceiling, you both laugh, and George nods as he glances back down at you.

“She’s right.” He looks back up at the ceiling. “CAN I TAKE HER TO HOGSMEADE?”

And through the ceiling, Hermione shouts a reply. “THAT’S MORE LIKE IT!”

You and George share a laugh, and then he takes both of your hands in his. “So, would you care to accompany me to Hogsmeade, (Y/N)?”

With that same beaming smile still stretching across your face, you nod frantically. “Of course!”

George grins back at you. “Let’s go then!”

Your eyes almost fall out of your skull. “Now?”

George chuckles. “Yeah, why not?”

You nod. “Okay, give me a few minutes to get ready!”

And before he can reply, you’ve run up the stairs and into Hermione’s dormitory.

After some intensive squealing, jumping around and panicked exchanges of utter gibberish, Hermione is digging through her trunk and throwing every oversized jumper she finds at you. There isnt time for you to run back to the Hufflepuff common room, that’s acknowledged without you or Hermione needing to mention it, but you also need to wear a jumper that goes with the rest of your outfit.

A few minutes of frustratedly trying on and throwing off jumpers pass, and then there’s a light knock on the dormitory door.

“(Y/N)?” George calls, and your eyes widen.

“Just a minute!” You squeak.

George chuckles through the door. “I was just going to say that you can always wear one of my jumpers, if you cant find something of Hermione’s.”

Feeling faint all of a sudden, you sit down on Hermione’s bed, and she runs to you, grabbing your hands and giving you an excited, squealy grin. She knows as well as you do that this has been one of your dreams since first meeting George, and Hermione wastes no time in pulling you to your feet and pushing you to the door.

When you open it, George is leaning against the doorframe with a smirk on his face and one of the Christmas jumpers his mother has made him folded up in his hands, which he holds out to you without a word. You cant hide your elation as you stick your arms through the far-too-long sleeves and poke your head through the hole, pulling the jumper down your body until it’s practically halfway down your thighs, but the big letter ‘G’ on your stomach makes you giddy all over again.

“This is even more adorable than I imagined.” George’s voice is barely above a whisper as he stares down at you, and his shyness brings about an unprecedented confidence in you as you slip your hand in his.

“So, Hogsmeade?”

And so, what was left of the daylight was spent wandering around Hogsmeade with George Weasley. The two of you visited Honeydukes, in which George spoilt you by discretely purchasing every sweet your eyes lit up at, using up some of his portion of earnings from his and Fred’s inventions. He did so discreetly because he knew if you saw him doing it, you would have stopped him, and when he presented you with a bag of sweets that you’d unknowingly selected, you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so you settled with jumping up to plant a kiss on his cheek before running into Zonko’s Joke Shop. For a few seconds, George stood outside Honeydukes with his fingertips tracing the place on his cheek where your lips had been, in utter bewilderment. And then, with a dazzling smile, he ran after you. In Zonko’s, you paid George back by purchasing him some Dungbombs, Nose-Biting Teacups, and some Sugar Quills when he was wandering around the shop with a distracted, awestruck expression. As you left, you surprised George with a small bag of gifts just like he had done for you, and in return he leant down to kiss your forehead.

In what felt like no time at all, George was walking you back to the Hufflepuff common room with an arm around your shoulders. Upon reaching the entrance, you turned to George, and you couldn’t meet his eyes; this time it wasnt because of shyness, but sadness.

“Hey, we can do this again. Tomorrow, if you like!” George squeezes your hands, giddy at the thought of spending more time with you, and effortlessly lifting your spirits just by being himself.

Smiling up at him, you nod. “That would be lovely.”

Gesturing to the long sleeves that cover your hands, which are hidden away in his, George smirks. “Keep the jumper.”

Your eyes widen, having completely forgotten that you are still wearing his jumper and therefore not even considering taking it off.

“A-Are you sure?”

George chuckles. “Of course, (Y/N). Mum makes us all a new one every year, I don’t have enough time to wear the whole collection! And, it looks better on you, anyway.”

You giggle, feeling your face heat up far more than you’re comfortable with it doing in public. “Thank you, George. I’ll treasure it.”

Your words bring a warm smile to his face. “I know.”

Then, you get an idea, and you beam. “But wait, gifts between us have previously had a price. How much does this jumper cost?”

Catching on immediately, George turns his head to the side slightly, letting go of one of your hands to tap the space on his cheek that you had previously kissed. But your idea is even better, and you shake your head mischievously.

“A jumper is more than a few sweets.” You hint, and George’s eyes widen.

“So...that means…” He trails off nervously, not wanting to make any assumptions, and you decide to answer his question without words.

Standing on your tiptoes, you let go of George’s other hand and place them both on his clothed chest, waiting patiently. Swallowing nervously, George nods.

“Right.”

And then his arms wrap around your waist, gently lifting you up just enough to reach him, and then his lips meet yours. The kiss is soft, his arms holding you carefully as his lips dance against yours ever so slowly, butterflies erupting in your stomachs and fluttering around the two of you. Silent fireworks surround you, the overwhelming sensations of him enveloping you and bringing you somewhere you’ve never been, but it immediately feels like home. Pulling away from George slowly, you grin at him, and he chuckles in disbelief, gently placing you back down on the ground.

“You can have as many jumpers as you want.” George says, causing you to burst out laughing.

“Kisses come free from now on, deal?” You suggest, and George nods eagerly.

“Deal!”

Beaming at him, you take ahold of his hand one last time. “Goodnight, George.”

He surprises you by lifting your arm and leaning down to place a soft kiss against your knuckles, holding your gaze as he does.

“Until tomorrow, (Y/N). Sweet dreams.”

You watch George walk away, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds and chuckling every time he sees you still looking at him. Just before he rounds the corner, he takes the time to blow you a dramatic kiss, and you jump up to catch it with just as much dramatics, causing you both to laugh as he disappears from view, and you pass through the Hufflepuff entrance. As soon as you’re in the common room, you lean against the wall and take a deep breath with a wide smile plastered on your face, knowing with complete confidence that whatever you dream about, it will never feel as sweet as this.

[novamariestark]

Like A Virgin

Summary: Your most embarrassing secret comes out and somehow it ends differently than you thought it would.

Warnings: age gap, smut, pretty much 90% smut, oral (m+f receiving), piv, unprotected sex (wrap b4 you tap), virgin reader, first time,

Word count: 4069 (I swear that number is unintentional)

Fandom: NCIS

Pairing: Alden Parker x virgin!reader

[A/N] Guess who's back bitches!!! 🤭🤭

Was I dreaming? Or is this actually happening? Was the sexiest man I’d ever laid my eyes upon really buried between my legs?

His tongue darting between the wet lips, trying for find the sensitive bud. The simplest touch of the tip of his tongue, sent shivers through your body. You’d read about this, you heard your friends tell you about it but you never believed it felt this good.

And to think, you owe it all to that big mouthed best friend of yours, Nick.

What turned out to be a simple conversation, turned into the most embarrassing yet best conversations ever. Why? Because your silver fox, sexy ass boss, is between your legs, his face buried in your folds as he licks, sucks and nibbles at the soft flesh.

You hadn’t told anyone, no one at all, because you were ashamed. Why? Who knows. But you definitely did not want your co-workers to know, especially not… him. After a particularly long, hard case, Nick decided… forced, you all to engage in a team bonding exercise “Never Have I Ever”

What did that have to do with team bonding? That’s exactly what you asked Nick. He has been trying to get something out of you about relationships, sex and everything that goes with it. Sure you had boyfriends in the past, you weren’t that sad. But you didn’t just want to give it up to just anyone. You wanted the one. And the moment you laid eyes on him. You knew. But you also knew it was never going to happen. So you guessed you’d die a virgin or you just go to a bar and give it up to the first sleazy guy that was interested.

The game started off relatively PG, until it came to be Nick’s turn.

“Never have I ever had sex in public,”

“Really?” you asked, “Are you 12?”

“Size 14 actually” he said as he took a sip of coffee because we obviously don’t have alcohol stashed in your desk drawers. At least you didn’t. You rolled your eyes at the comment, and everyone took note that you were the only one who didn’t take a sip

“What?” you asked as you noticed all their eyes on you and the drink in your hand.

“You’ve never been adventurous outside of the bedroom?” Nick asked, a smirk finding it’s way onto his face, he had you now. “What have you done, little miss innocent?”

“You only get to ask one question, Nicky,” you said, trying to get as far away from the topic of sex as you could, especially considering your boss, and the owner of your heart and every other part of your body, if he wanted, was sat across from you. So you ask a somewhat, safe question, “Never Have I ever shoplifted,” you asked and you took a sip of your drink.

Obviously, it was like a million lifetimes ago and it was really ridiculous now that you think about it. All you took was a simple pink hairband, but nonetheless, you took it without paying.

“Oh my God, we’ve been working with a maniac,” Nick gasped over dramatically, “But seriously... that's your question? Come on, ask a juicier one,"

"No!"

He looked at you as if he were trying to read your mind, "Wait a minute... have you never?"

You felt the room spinning around you as everyone looked your way, your heart racing and your cheeks burning up like the sun.

You blurt out, "Fine okay! I haven't!" Your voice quivered as you spoke, and you could feel the tears stinging at the back of your eyes. The room fell silent, and for a moment, it felt like the air had been sucked out of it. You looked around, expecting judgement, pity, or laughter, but instead, you saw a a few surprised faces but Alden's face gave nothing away. No one said a word, and you felt like you could hear the thunderous sound of your own heartbeat in the quiet.

Swiftly, you stand up, knocking over your chair in the process. You didn’t care. You had to get out of there. You grab your bag and rush towards the restroom, trying to keep your composure as you go. Your cheeks were on fire, and you could feel the eyes of your colleagues burning into your back. The cool metal door hits you with a bit more force than you meant it to, and you stumble into the restroom, locking it behind you.

Once inside, you lean against the door, taking deep breaths and trying to keep it together. The sound of the lock clicking into place echoes through the small space, offering a momentary sense of security. Your hand shakes as you lift it to your face, wiping away the rogue tear that had escaped. You look at yourself in the mirror; your makeup is a mess from the hasty retreat. You hastily fix your mascara, which had started to run, and smooth out your hair. You take a deep breath, telling yourself that you can get through this.

When you finally feel presentable, you turn the handle and push the door open, only to find Alden leaning on the wall across from the restroom, his arms folded over his chest and his gaze fixed on the floor. He looks up as the door swings outward, and his eyes meet yours. For a second, you consider retreating back into the safety of the bathroom, but the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. "What are you doing here?" you ask, your voice still shaky.

He straightens up, looking at you with a mix of concern and something you can't quite read, "I wanted to make sure you were okay." His voice is low and calming, but it does nothing to ease the storm of emotions raging inside you. You're acutely aware of the fact that he now knows your secret, and you're not sure how to handle it.

"I'm fine," you lie, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. "I just needed a moment." you look at the floor, the wall behind him, anywhere. Anywhere but him, "I suppose everyone will think I'm some kind of sad loser now," you let out a breathy laugh even though all you want to do is cry.

Alden takes a step towards you, "They don't and they would never," he says firmly, his eyes searching yours for some sign that you believe him. "If anything, they're surprised, I know I am,"

"Surprised,”

"Yes," he says, taking another step closer, "I mean, you're smart, funny, beautiful..." His voice trails off, and he looks at you with a softness that you've never seen before in his eyes. It's a look that makes your stomach flip but it also has an effect somewhere else, somewhere a little more south. Your eyes avert from him, not wanting him to see exactly what you were thinking. Thinking about him. How he just made you feel with one sentence. You can't help but imagine what else that tongue could do.

He must have read your face because his expression shifts, his eyes darkening slightly. "I could help you with that," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Your heart skips a beat, "What?" you blinked a couple of times. Did you hear him right? Or is this your imagination? Again.

"I said," he takes another step closer, his eyes never leaving yours, "I could help you with that."

You swallow hard, your mouth feeling like it's filled with sand. You've thought about it so many times, even at work, when you've stared at his beautiful hands as they glide over documents and computer keyboards, wondering what they'd feel like on your bare skin. But you've never, ever imagined him saying it out loud, especially not here, in the stark fluorescent light of the office hallway.

"You don't mean..." you start to protest, but your voice trails off. What could he possibly mean? Did he just offer to...?

Alden nods, a knowing smile playing on his lips, "I do. I could be your first," he says, his voice low and enticing. You can't believe what you're hearing. Your boss, the man you've had a crush on since the moment you and McGee interrogated him, is offering to take your virginity. It's like a dream come true, but in the most unexpected way possible.

You feel your cheeks flush even more, and you stumble over your words, "I-I don't know what to say."

Alden steps closer, his voice gentle, "You don't have to say anything. The offer is there if you want it, no pressure," he says, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but lean into it slightly. He seems to notice and smiles, "You need a ride home?"

You nod, unable to form coherent words. You follow him towards the elevator. The ride down seemed to take forever. Too much close proximity and you were about to get into his car. Alone. You felt like a teenager again, the butterflies in your stomach had returned. You're nervous, excited, and a little bit terrified. You've seen movies, read books, but this was your first time feeling like this about someone.

The elevator doors open with a soft ding, and you both step out into the dimly lit parking garage. His car is parked right outside. He opens the door for you, and you slip inside, the leather seats cool against the thin fabric of your pants. The scent of his cologne fills the car, and you can't help but take a deep breath. He gets in and starts the engine, the low purr echoing through the space.

As he drives, the silence between you is thick and palpable. You can't stop thinking about his offer. You want to ask a hundred questions, but you're afraid of what the answers might be. You look over at him, his profile lit by the passing streetlights, his jaw clenched as he focuses on the road. You wonder if he's regretting his words or if he's just as lost in thought as you are.

Your eyes wonder back to his hands, gripped tightly on the steering wheel. You bite your lip, as the things he could do to you with those very hands played through your mind like a dirty movie. One you really wanted to star in. You absentmindedly squeeze your thighs together. Never had a man made you feel this way.

Should I do it? Should I lose my virginity?

But what about waiting for the right guy? If he isn't the right guy, I don't want anyone else.

The back and forth in your mind takes over, and you don't even realise it's been so long when Alden taps your shoulder.

"This is you," he said softly gesturing to your house. You looked over your shoulder and you felt a wave of sadness wash over you. Now you won't see him until tomorrow.

Unless...

"You want to come in?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn't know why you were asking, but something inside you just didn't want him to leave just yet. Alden looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours before he nodded slowly.

He followed you in, the door clicking shut behind you. The house was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind. You led him into the living room, flipping on a lamp to cast a warm glow across the room, "I'm not sure what to do, I mean I've watched stuff and read.."

He stopped you, "I told you we don't have to, [Y/N], no pressure,"

You nodded, "I know, I just..." You didn't know what to say. "I want you, I-I feel it," you stutter not sure if you made sense.

He stepped towards you slowly, giving you time to retreat should you want to. His raised his hand to gently move your face to look at him, "Where do you feel it?" he asked, his hand releases your chin and starts moving down, his hand ghosting over you, not making full contact in case you didn't want it, "Here?" he asked, his hand over your stomach, you shook your head 'no' and he continued further down, until he reached your clothed pussy, "Here?"

You nodded shamefully and looked away and his hand found your chin again, "Hey, it's okay," he said softly, a small cocky smirk made it's way onto his lips, "More than okay," you rolled your eyes but you couldn't help but smile. "Has anyone else made you feel something there?"

You shook your head 'no' again and his smile grew wider, "Just you,"

"I can still leave," he said, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to resonate through your entire body.

"I don't want to disappoint you," you murmur, the words barely leaving your lips. The tension in the room is thick, charged with the electricity of possibility. You want him so badly it hurts, you need him. Now.

"You could never disappoint me," Alden whispers, his thumb tracing the outline of your bottom lip. Your heart skips a beat, and you can feel the heat building between your legs. He steps closer, and you can't resist leaning into his touch. He takes this as an invitation, his other hand sliding around your waist, pulling you against him. You can feel his erection pressing against your waist, and you gasp.

He kisses you then, a soft, gentle kiss that sends shockwaves through your body. It's the first time you've ever been kissed with such tenderness, as if you were made of the most delicate material and he didn't want to break you. You melt into it, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. His hand moves up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss. Your heart is racing so fast you think it might just burst out of your chest.

You can taste the mint on his breath, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You've never felt so alive, so wanted, so... desired. His other hand travels down to cup your ass, squeezing gently, and you can't help but moan into his mouth. The sound seems to ignite something in him, because he suddenly picks you up, his hands under your thighs, and carries you over to the couch. He lays you down gently, his body hovering over yours.

"You want to stop?" he asked you, breathing heavily as he regains his breath. you shook your head 'no' once more, "I need words, baby. Once we start, I don't think I'll be able to stop,"

"Yes, please fuck me," you begged moving to kiss him again but he pulls away, just out of reach of your lips, you frown, "I thought..."

"I do, trust me, but I'm not going to fuck you. It's your first time, baby, I'm gonna make it special," he says, his voice gruff with desire. He leans down and kisses you again, slower this time, letting you feel the passion in his lips, the promise in his touch. His hand slides up your thigh, to your covered pussy, "Can I?"

You nod eagerly and he smiles against your lips before he starts to unbutton your trousers. He kisses along your jaw to your neck, his breath hot and ragged. The fabric of your trousers sliding down your legs, exposing your simple black lace underwear. His eyes darken as he looks at them, "These are beautiful," he says, his thumb tracing the lace band. He leans down and kisses your neck, sucking gently, leaving a mark that you know will be there tomorrow.

You reach down to palm him through his pants but just as your fingertips touched the fabric, he pulled your hand away, "No, It's all about you right now, baby,"

Alden's eyes are burning into yours as he runs his thumb over your underwear. You can feel the wetness that's already seeped through the material. He leans down and kisses you again, his hand sliding your underwear to the side. You gasp into his mouth as his thumb brushes over your clit. It's like a bolt of lightning shooting through you, making your body arch off the couch. His other hand is under your shirt now, his rough thumbs teasing your nipples. You can feel them harden under his touch, and you whimper.

He breaks the kiss, looking down at you with hunger in his eyes, "You're so beautiful, so responsive," he murmurs, his voice a low growl. He kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He kisses down your chest, pausing to pay special attention to your breasts. His tongue flicks over one nipple, then the other, making you moan. He pulls your shirt off completely, leaving you in just your bra. He takes his time unclipping it, the anticipation killing you. When it finally falls away, he groans, "Fuck," before taking your breast into his mouth, his hand still working your clit.

You've never felt anything like this before. The pleasure is intense, almost too much, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You start to move your hips in sync with his thumb, your breaths coming in pants. He kisses down your stomach, his tongue tracing the waistband of your panties

And now that’s how you got here. Your first time, Is with Alden Fucking Parker.

***

“You’re so wet,” he murmured against your skin, his voice sending delicious vibrations through your core.

It’s like he had a PhD in the art of pleasuring a woman. His tongue, the perfect weapon, caressing your clit in just the right way. It was like he had a manual and studied it every night.

Everything about him was intoxicating—his scent, the way he groaned as he tasted you, the way his beard scraped your thighs as he worked.

He was the kind of man who could charm the panties off any woman and make her feel like the only one in the room. And here he was, doing just that to you.

But it was the way he looked at you that had me questioning everything. His eyes, a piercing blue, they were filled with a hunger that you’d never seen before. It was like he was starving for you, and you were his last meal.

But it wasn’t just the physical. It was his confidence, his command, his authority that had you wetter than the ocean. He knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t afraid to take it. It was a turn on like no other.

As his tongue continued to dance against your clit, your body began to tighten. The pressure building, your moans grew louder, your hands found their way into his hair, gripping tightly.

“Oh God, I’m going to come,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He smirked against your skin, not missing a beat, his mouth working harder. And just like that, you shattered.

But what happens now? Would we pretend this never happened? was this the start of something? Or was it just a one-time thing?

Parker reaches to unbuckle his belt and looks down at your face, your thoughts must have been written boldly across it because he paused, "We can stop if it's too much," he whispered, reaching down and stroking my cheek gently. A gesture you had never experienced from a boyfriend before. His thumb wiped away a tear that had escaped your eye.

You nodded, giving him the go ahead.

He stood, the sound of his zipper echoing in the quiet room, and stepped out of his pants. He was already hard, and the sight of him took your breath away. He was everything you had ever imagined and more. You watched as he kicked his pants to the side and took his shirt off, revealing a chest that was peppered with the cutest hairs ever. He was perfection, and you were about to get to touch him.

He moved closer to you, and you could see the veins in his arms as he reached for you. His cock was thick and long, standing tall and proud against his stomach. The tip was already glistening with precum, and you felt your mouth water at the thought of taking him in. You bit your lip, your eyes never leaving his huge member.

He sat back down on the bed, his cock jutting out in front of him. "Do you want to?" he asked tentatively although his voice gruff and full of lust.

You nodded, eager to taste him. You leaned forward, your hand reaching out to wrap around his length. He was hot and hard in your hand, and you couldn't help but moan as you took him into your mouth. He tasted salty and musky, and it was everything you had ever dreamed of.

He groaned above you, his hand reaching down to stroke your hair as you bobbed your head up and down. His cock filled your mouth, and you could feel his pulse against your tongue. You sucked harder, feeling him swell even more.

"Are you sure you haven't done this before?" he breathed out, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're a natural."

You blushed at the praise, but didn't stop. You liked the feeling of his cock in your mouth, liked the way he reacted to you. You liked the power you had over him.

You reached up and cupped his balls, gently squeezing as you took him deeper. He bucked his hips, and you knew he was close. You could feel his orgasm building, and you wanted to be the one to make him come.

You sucked harder and he tensed. "I'm going to cum," he warned, and you nodded. Then, without warning, he pulled out of your mouth and stood up. "I want to be inside you when I come," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Do you want that?"

You nodded again, not trusting your voice. You had never wanted anything more in your life. He climbed onto the bed, his body covering yours. He kissed you hard, his tongue delving you’re your mouth, tasting himself on you. It was erotic and raw, and you were completely lost in the moment.

He positioned himself at your entrance, and you felt the tip of his cock pushing against you. He was so big, and you were so tight. You were a little scared, but mostly excited. This was it. You are going to lose your virginity to the most amazing man you had ever met.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

You nodded, and he pushed in. It hurt at first, but then it felt... right. Like he was made to be inside you. You moaned into his mouth as he filled you completely, his cock stretching you open.

He began to move, his hips thrusting in and out gently. It felt so good, so much better than you could have ever imagined. And as he fucked you, you felt something building inside of you again. An orgasm, this time deeper and more intense than the one before.

You dug your nails into his back, your hips moving with his. He groaned, his movements growing faster and more erratic. "You're so tight," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "So fucking tight."

You could feel him getting closer, his cock pulsing inside of you. And then, with one final thrust, he came, his warmth filling me up. You followed right after, your body convulsing around him.

You lay there, panting and sweaty, for what felt like hours. He held you close, his arms wrapped around you tightly. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded, your cheek pressed against his chest. "More than okay," you murmured. "That was amazing."

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "It was," he agreed. "But we're not done yet."

You looked up at him, your eyes wide. "What do you mean?"

He smirked, "I mean, we're just getting started, baby."

@mandy426 @writeandsurvive

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

sooo I have this idea, for Sam Winchester where (gn) reader does something stupid (up 2 u) and Sam gets rlly mad and they don’t talk for a while, but Dean and them are still in contact and go on hunt together every once in a while. Sam finds out (reader gets srsly injured) and you can end it how you see fit!

-💋

.⋆｡Risks and Rewards｡⋆.

Sam Winchester x plus size reader

You take risks on hunts, it’s what you do but this time, the risk was greater than the reward

Warnings: gn reader, injuries, angst, arguments, hunt gone wrong, bleeding out, reader is called beautiful, mutual pining, deathbed confessions, major character death, still a happy ending tho (you’ll see)

WC: 2k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“I can’t believe you!” Sam’s voice partially shook the very foundation of the safe house you had just barely made it back to. “I can’t believe you would do something so fucking stupid!” His hair is sticking up in a million different directions as a combination of dried blood and utter frustration.

“If it wasn’t for what I did, you both would be dead by now!” You shouted back but winced as you pulled at the hastily done stitches on your side. Dean’s arm, which was the only thing keeping you upright, tightened around your waist.

“Can we save this for later, maybe when we’re not all exhausted and hurt?”

“No!” You and Sam retorted at the same time. 

“There were way too many fucking vamps for you to handle alone, it was easy pickings for them!” Dean attempted to guide you to the single bedroom at the back of the cabin but you shook him off with a glare. “I did what either one of you would have done in that situation.”

Sam breathed heavily through his nose, the vein in his forehead bulging with anger. “You turned yourself into bait! You had no plan, no weapons, and no backup. You’re lucky that Dean got to his machete in time.” 

“I had it handled!” Pain ricocheted through your body as you tried to stay standing without any support and you felt the hot trickle of blood leak down onto your hip. 

“You were impaled!” 

“I was fine! I had them right where I wanted them.”

“So you wanted three vamps to be practically dogpiled on top of you while you bled out?” The question was rhetorical but you answered anyway.

“Yes! Three vamps on me meant that you both only had to deal with one each. It’s basic fucking math Samuel.” 

“You fucking-“

“Alright that’s enough!” Dean finally interjected. “It’s been a long hard day and we’re all a bit wound up. We can have a more rational conversation in the morning once we’ve all gotten some rest. So Sam, go clean yourself up and I’ll get some food ready. And you-“ He turned to you with a harsh look. “-You go sit down cause it looks like you’re about to pass out.”

Sam’s jaw clenched and his eyes flicked to you but he quickly looked away. “Fine.” He grumbled and stomped off to the bathroom, his duffle bag in hand. You flinched when the door slammed shut. Dean gingerly cupped your face like a father would to their child and wiped away a tear you hadn’t noticed rolling down your cheek.

“He didn’t mean it, he just got scared.” You scoffed.

“Go make your food Dean.” You knew you were being unnecessarily harsh to your friend but you were still too angry and hurt to act rationally. He sighed and stepped back.

He pointed to the couch. “Sit, I’ll take a look at those stitches when I’m done.” But as Dean turned away to the kitchen, you didn’t go to the couch, instead you grabbed your car keys from the side table and quietly hobbled out the door.

When Sam had finally finished his shower and redressed in clean clothes, he was considerably calmer. He knew you were right, that they needed a distraction to kill all those vamps but when he saw you- metal pipe through your side with three huge vampires trying to get a bite at you, his heart stopped. 

Sighing, he looked at his reflection in the small mirror above the sink. Your blood that had covered his hands was washed away but he could still feel it staining his skin. He had been on the edge of tears as he stitched you up in the back seat of his brother’s car but those tears had evaporated into anger when you doubled down on your actions.

You were reckless and stupid and gone.

Sam stepped back into the main room of the cabin and immediately noticed there was one less person. The wide open door to the bedroom showed that it was empty and with Dean in the kitchen, there was nowhere else you could be. “Dean, where are they?”

His brother immediately froze, gaze darting to the couch before looking out the window and seeing that your car was conveniently gone. “Son of a bitch.”

——————

It was the silence that was killing you. You could hear everything, the few animals that scurried around in the forest that surrounded you, the wind rustling the leaves in the branches overhead, the sound of your blood as it poured from the huge slash in your abdomen.

You knew no help was coming because you were alone.

You couldn’t feel the pain anymore and you supposed you were grateful for that. “At least it’s a clear night.” You murmured to yourself as you turned your gaze upwards to look at the stars. It was dumb to go hunt a wendigo alone but you were still mad and you had a point to prove. Although, since you hadn’t talked to him in nearly three months, Sam wouldn’t actually know that you won the argument but it was enough for you to prove him wrong without him knowing.

But now, now you want to be wrong. You would give anything to hear his voice just one more time, even if it was because he was yelling at you. 

It took all of your remaining strength to reach into your pocket for your phone, praying that it wasn’t cracked as you switched it back on. The bright screen illuminated your face. There was a text from Dean and one from Garth that obscured the photo in the background, the photo of you and your boys at the Grand Canyon.

With trembling fingers, you scrolled to Sam’s contact, his name surrounded by childish hearts like you were a middle schooler with a crush. His photo was one you took in secret, a candid shot of him reading a massive book. He was hunched over and his brown hair uncombed but his eyes shone in the dim light of the Bunker’s library. You hesitated over the call button.

The ringing of your phone overpowered all other sounds in the forest and you were grateful for the reprieve from the quiet. “Sam’s phone.” Dean’s voice echoed through the small clearing, slightly broken and muffled because of the poor cell service.

“Hey Dee.” You smiled, biting back a whimper of pain as you spoke. 

“Hey kid! It’s been a minute, you ok?” There was a brief pause as you summoned up the courage to lie to one of your closest friends.

“Yeah- yeah I’m good. Do you think you could get Sam for me? I wanted to talk to him.” 

“Course. Hey Sammy, phone for you!” Dean shouted and you could vaguely hear Sam yelling back at him ‘stop answering my phone jerk!’. There was a brief scuffle and then a new voice, one that immediately soothed the burn of your injuries and set your soul at ease.

“Hi.” He said as Dean retorted with a fond ‘bitch’. There was a thud and then the line went quiet for a second. “Sorry, you know how Dean is.”

You chuckled and blood dripped down from the corner of your lips. “Yeah I do.” There was a beat, an awkward silence falling over you. “Hey Sam-“

“I’m sorry.” He interrupted you. “You were right, and I’m sorry for yelling at you, you just really scared me. I don’t want to lose you, I lo-,” his voice became thick and he cleared his throat, “You’re important to me and I want to keep you safe.”

Your eyelids fluttered as tears began to build along your waterline. “I’m sorry too, I was being reckless, I just thought it was our best bet.” You tried to readjust your body on the cold ground but hissed as pain exploded through your stomach.

“Are you- fuck are you hurt?” The panic in Sam’s voice was like being doused in cold water. Suddenly the blissful fog you were floating in, that was undoubtedly shock, drifted away and everything crashed back into you.

“No no I’m fine.” You attempted to calmly reply but it came out as more of a sob. 

“Where are you?” You could hear the jingling of keys and thundering footsteps. You laughed tearfully.

“Nowhere you could get to in time. Just talk to me please, I want to hear your voice one more time.” The sounds stopped but he didn’t speak again. “Please Sam, do this one last thing for me.” 

He took in a shuddery breath. “Don’t do this. Tell me where you are.” His voice wavered and you knew he was close to tears.

“Sam-“

“Tell me.” 

“You fucker.” You huffed. “Montana, Custer National Park. Don’t know my exact coordinates.” Your legs were cold, far colder than they should have been considering it was August.

“Keep talking to me.” He spoke into the phone and then turned and yelled into the Bunker, calling for his brother and Cas. “C’mon let me hear your beautiful voice.”

“You think my voice is beautiful?” Your heart jumped even as you felt it slowing down.

“I think all of you is beautiful.” Tears rolled down your temples, wetting the dirt beneath your head. You sniffled and clutched your phone even tighter.

“You’re beautiful too. Most beautiful man 've ever met.” Your words started to slur together but you kept talking, just like he asked. You would do anything he asked. “Got those big hazel eyes nd nice hair. Never told you but you made me nervous when we first met. You were so big and you were frowning but then you smiled and I knew.”

“What did you know?” You smiled.

“I knew that I was gonna fall in love with you. And I did. Sam-“

“No. No.” He cut you off again. “You don’t get to tell me that, not now. Not when I’m not there with you to tell you that I feel the same. You can say it when we get you home safe.”

“Sam, I’m not gonna last that long.”

“You will.” He firmly replied. “You have to.”

“Ok, then I won’t tell you how meeting you was the best thing to ever happen to me and I also won’t say that you became my home.” Blackness curled around the end of your vision, and the stars slowly began to disappear. “Why can’t I see the stars anymore?”

“Don’t you dare close your eyes!” Sam screamed but his voice began to fade away as the darkness settled over you.

“I’m sorry Sam.” Your eyes shut as a bright light appeared before you.

——————

The first thing Sam was aware of was the smell of pine. It was so achingly nostalgic, he couldn’t help but smile. The raging river beneath his feet provided just enough ambient sound to disguise the familiar purr of an engine.

“You certainly took your time getting here Winchester.”

You looked just like he remembered you, from your hair down to the smallest details on your skin. Dean stood next to you, arm thrown over your shoulder as he laughed.

“He was always the slow one.” Sam just smiled and embraced his older brother, holding him as tightly as he could. Dean cupped the back of his head before letting him go with a teary smile. “You did it Sammy.”

They pulled away from each other and Dean gestured to you. “Go on, they’ve been waiting for a long time.” 

Sam approached you slowly, his smile growing wider with each step. You looked away bashfully. “I know we didn’t end off on a great note and my death was ever so slightly dramatic so you can be mad at me all you want.”

His big hands cupped your wide hips, pulling your attention back to him. “Tell me.” Your eyes sparkled under the setting sun.

“I love you Sam.” And as he kissed you for the first time, everything clicked into place and you both realised that maybe the risk of hunting was definitely worth the reward.

SPN Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @km-ffluv

Supernatural

@hc-geralt-23 @mandythemint

Sam Winchester

@pretty-npeach @jason-todds-bitch @honkytonkbabe @nini-trash-forever @mandyzsick101 @getoutofthere @l9ckheed @onlystarshere @xoxokiaraaxoxo @star-dusst @marvel-mistress @aleck-cross @ambassadortotrilliusprime @girl-of-multi-fandoms @everything-is-awesomesauce @Theantisoci-alone

[onedappercat]

Why Does the Ortolan Sing?

A human AU Good Omens fanfic

(View uncensored art on AO3)

Chapter 20: So Much For Stardust

Rating: Explicit

Summary:

Following his mother’s death, Azira sets out to prepare his family’s bookshop for reopening. While appreciating the shop’s new sign, he hears the beckon of a siren’s song sounding from the coffee shop over the road. He succumbs to temptation to find the source of the hypnotic voice is an auburn-haired songbird. Intrigued by the singer’s beauty and haunted by his apparent loneliness, Azira is determined to introduce himself. There’s only one problem: the musician’s menacing, jealous, and possessive partner.

CW: Domestic abuse, loss of a loved one, adultery, toxic relationship, murder, blood, organized crime

Excerpt from chapter 20:

“Space is incredible, you know?” Crowley’s smile broadened as he stared up at God’s canvas. “It’s true eternity. So vast and limitless, we’re constantly finding something new. Even when Earth is long gone, the space we used to occupy will receive the light from star systems we’ve never known, never named, and the light from Earth will do the same. We’re fleeting, but space isn’t.”

“That’s beautiful…” Azira sighed. “And slightly tragic. Nothing lasts forever, I suppose.”

“Some things do.” Crowley took a deep breath of the fresh, country air. “Humans give names and stories to the stars, and I wonder who else out there, seeing the same stars from a different angle, have done the same. Like over there,” Crowley motioned to a cluster of stars Azira couldn’t differentiate from any others. “Coma Berenices. Humans looked at those stars and saw the hair of an Egyptian queen, sacrificed to Aphrodite to ensure her husband’s return from battle. Something so human. Or the Andromeda Galaxy… one of our neighbors. Named for a beauty whose parents angered the Gods, causing her to be sacrificed to a monster. The stories we assign them won’t last for eternity, but their light always reaches somewhere, even once they’re gone. And there’s an infinite number of them to do just that.”

“When you put it like that, eternity is… a hard concept to grasp.” Azira pondered for a moment. He’d had philosophical conversations with his parents, but eternity was never a topic they touched on. “I admit, my mind usually stays grounded in the stories in books; I don’t tend to consider just how insignificant that all is.”

Crowley eyed Azira at askance, then rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand and smiling. “Eternity is a mountain made of diamonds.”

“A what?” Azira grinned.

“There’s a mountain made of diamonds, a hundred miles wide and a hundred miles high, and every thousand years a bird comes and sharpens its beak on the mountain.”

“The same bird?”

Crowley waved his hand dismissively. “We’re talking diamond mountains; you want to harp on the age of the bird?”

“Right,” Azira chuckled. “Carry on.”

“So this bird sharpens its beak on the mountain, scraping away a tiny piece every time. Once that mountain has completely worn away, one second of eternity has passed.”

Azira stared up at Crowley, his face framed in the falling stars and glittering diamonds of eternity, sending their light to Earth. His lips parted, a soft gasp leaving him as he took in the eternal beauty, incomparable in his mind to the fleeting beauty that was Crowley. Crowley’s soft smile and gentle eyes were gazing at him with the kind of love actors attempt to portray in movies. It was so believable, as he watched the old black-and-whites with his mother, until he witnessed it himself.

“Make love to me under the stars,” Azira whispered. “Eternally.”

Continue from chapter 20 here.

Thank you so much to everyone at @goodomensafterdark for your help and putting up with my millions of questions! 🥰

[joshsindigostreak]

I See Hell in Your Eyes

Chapter Six

“Daddy’s little psycho and Mommy’s little soldier.”

Josh Kiszka x Vampire!Reader

Authors Note: I am SO FUCKING SORRY for dragging this out as long as I have. Life has been crazy and work has been nonstop. However, I do hope y'all like this latest chapter, or as I like to call it, the smut before the storm.

Word Count: 8445

Warnings: SMUT, COMPLETELY NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, oral m!receiving, thigh riding, unprotected penetrative sex (she's a vampire but wrap it up IRL y'all), swearing, allusions to violence, creepy flashbacks, blood mentions.

Jake was a light sleeper, and his mother would often tell people she could never put him down without him waking up as soon as her hands left his swaddled form, the only solution was to put him directly next to his twin, who slept like a log most of the time. Even as they got older if they sat next to each other too long on the couch they’d be out cold within a few minutes. And in any other scenario, just being in the same apartment as Josh would’ve had him out like a light, but still sleep evaded him. He knew he needed to get some form of shut-eye, but every creak or noise in the room had his eyes flying open, ready to jump up in case that…creature tried anything stupid. 

That was the other thing that had his mind racing, the fact that a Vampire was sleeping soundly next to his brother of all people, and the fact that he saw with his own eyes that same brother cuddle up and spoon the fucking thing. The conversation the twins shared outside ran through his mind…

Jake stomped down the stairs of Josh’s building, not ready to even talk to him, yet having a million things to say at the same time. His mind was reeling over what he had just witnessed, and no amount of rationalization could wrap his head around it. 

“Jake just listen-,” Josh started as they exited the front door of the building and down the steps.

“If this is where you give me the ‘she’s different’ speech, I don’t want to hear it.” 

Josh rolled his eyes, “well she is.” 

Jake spun around to face him, “I just can’t believe you’re the one who got soft over one of them. After all we’ve been through? What we’ve seen? They threatened to kidnap Sammy and turn him when he was four, Josh.” 

Josh crossed his arms and squared his shoulders, “I know that.” 

“And yet here you are, holding hands with one, letting her walk around in your, no my, clothes. This job was supposed to be so simple, that’s why Dad let you go alone for it. All you had to do was come here, figure out which Vampire was being reckless, exterminate it, and come back home. That was it. But instead you get this little apartment, take absolutely way too long on what should’ve been a week-long job tops, and now you’re sleeping with quite literally the fucking enemy and you want me to be more understanding? The last time we spoke she was your lead suspect! I just-,” as Jake argued, he stared at his brother long enough to notice some blood on Josh’s neck. It wasn’t a lot, but it was dry and flaked on his skin, letting him know it had been there for awhile. 

Exhaling sharply through his nose he said in a low tone, “is that blood hers…or yours…” Josh sighed and closed his eyes for a second, which answered Jake's question for him, “Jesus Christ…she fed on you? What the fuck, man?” 

“It’s not what you think.” 

Jake’s eyes went wide and he hung his head forward in disbelief, “the fuck do you mean ‘its not what you think’?! Who even are you anymore?” 

“Listen, it wasn’t a planned thing. And for your information, she’s no longer my lead anymore.”

Jake mockingly breathed a sigh of relief, “oh well that’s good, I’m so glad you’re cracking the case with your-” 

Josh couldn’t take it anymore, and backed Jake across the sidewalk and against the door of his car, “do I have to bring up Cecilia again to point out how hypocritical you’re being right now? 

Jake stared at Josh, and watched his nostrils flare as he huffed in his face. If someone had told him weeks ago that he’d be having this conversation with him, he’d tell them they need to lay off the drugs and to get the fuck out of his face. “I just…I don’t get it,” he said softly. 

Josh adjusted his grip on his shoulders, “it’s not your job to ‘get it’.”

Jake relaxed against the car, not wanting to fight anymore, “but I always get it…with you? We always understand each other, but this…I don’t understand this at all.” 

Josh’s eyes softened at his twin, letting his words wash over him. He was right, that they never questioned each other over anything because they just understood each other automatically. Their parents always wrote it off as being a ‘twin thing’ and would tell them it was a strength of theirs that other people didn’t have. On the outside it was an asset, but to them personally it was just something automatic like breathing. 

“You’re just going to have to trust me. And maybe…maybe try to get to know her at least.”

Jake tilted his head, “you want me to get to know her?”

Josh rolled his eyes again, “or at least stop being a fucking dick. I know you don’t want to hear this, but she is different, Jake. I know it's hard, and it took me a lot longer than you think it did to see it, but she is.”

Jake relented, “if she tries anything…or even looks at you funny, I will not hesitate to put her down, and you’re just going to have to get over that.”

Jake’s arm around CiCi tightened as he blinked and pushed the memory away, not wanting to get pissed all over again. His eyelids were finally growing heavy, and he used what was left of his energy to relax enough so that sleep could creep up on him and take over.

~!~

Hours later, when the sun had stepped aside for the moon, you were growing restless in Josh’s arms. Memories were bleeding into your dreams, letting their foul existence contaminate your slumber. 

You found yourself back in the house you grew up in, sitting next to the Vampire who would become your Maker. On the floor before you, were the bodies of the rest of the occupants of the house. Various servants and the Lady of the house, bleeding out onto the floor. He had saved you for last. Ever since he had entered the door that night he had his eye on you. 

His teeth were buried in your wrist, lapping and slurping up your blood like a starved animal. It was messy, dripping over his hands and onto the expensive couch you sat upon. The pain had you wincing hard, but you dared not make a sound, terrified of what he would do if you did. 

He moaned against your wrist before popping off and staring at you with a mouth full of blood, “You won’t understand this…but your blood tastes like cherries…”

The way he looked at you and talked to you had your stomach in knots, “how,” you squeaked out.

“It's so difficult to describe to humans…but your blood is so sweet, little one. Sweet like cherries…ma chérie…,” he chuckled at his pun, before drawing a bloody finger to your cheek and staining your skin, “ma chérie…ma chérie…ma chér-”

You woke up with a jolt, panicking when you couldn’t immediately sit up due to the arms wrapped around your middle. Blindly you fought to pry the arm away from you, not awake enough to realize just who you were in bed with and where you were. 

Your frantic movements and gasps woke Josh up instantly, and he sat up enough to look at you fully, “Hey…hey it's alright, what's wrong?” 

His voice broke through the fog in your head, and you looked around to get your bearings. You were with Josh, in his little apartment, and it was night time finally. You were with Josh. You were safe. A warm hand reached up to cup your face, turning you towards him. The tears in your eyes that were threatening to fall made his brows knit together in worry. One slowly rolled down your face, his thumb catching it and rubbing it away. 

You sniffed, trying to compose yourself. It was just a stupid dream; your subconscious taking you back to that time after you had talked about it earlier. Nothing more, nothing-

“Bad dream?”

You looked away, for once unable to meet those brown eyes. He continued to hold your face, not letting you physically turn away from him. 

“It's nothing…”

“It’s not nothing if you’re this upset by it.”

“We all have bad dreams, Boy Scout,” you recalled the nightmare he had the other night, and how he also didn’t want to talk about what he saw. 

He understood what you were implying, and nodded, “I get that, but-”

Across the apartment, Jake had also woken up because of your outburst, and he carefully sat up on the air mattress to look at the commotion. He silently watched his brother comfort you, and the way you melted back into his arms had him rolling his eyes. The way Josh spoke to you was a way Jake wasn’t used to hearing. He kept trying to convince himself that this was all part of some 4D chess move of yours, but the fact that Josh was literally unable to be Persuaded by you only added to Jake’s confusion. 

Josh had gotten you to settle back down into bed, laying on your sides and facing each other. His hand was still holding your cheek, keeping you close. The tears had dried, and you had calmed down a little, no longer worried you were still in that house with your Maker. 

Your fingers were wrapped around the wrist of the hand on your face, “safe to say the sun is down…,” you whispered. 

“I guess so…”

Neither one of you wanted to leave the little bubble you had created, but you needed to go home, back to your own place. With a resigned sigh you say, “I should probably get going…

Josh shook his head, “you don’t have to.”

“Your brother would beg to differ,” Josh scoffed softly at the reminder, “plus I miss my own shower.” 

“At least let me drive you home,” he offered.

“You don’t have-,” a thumb slid across your jaw and landed on your lips, silencing you.

“No, I think I do,” he said simply. 

Back on the air mattress, Jake had had enough ‘rest’ and rather obnoxiously got up making as much noise as he could. His Witch rolled over to look at him, throwing him an exasperated look, harshly whispering his name. Jake paid her no mind as he loudly rifled through his bag, appearing to ‘organize’ his belongings, and set a few things on the coffee table. The light clatter of stakes landing on the surface sent an obvious message. 

Josh sat up to see what his twin was doing, and immediately rolled his eyes at the little display Jake was making. He looked over at you, giving you a sympathetic look before slipping out of bed and walking towards Jake.

“What are you doing?”

Jake looked up at Josh and raised his eyebrows, “making myself at home?”

“Well, while you’re doing that, I’m going to take her home,” he said pointing his head towards you over his shoulder. 

At this, Jake shot up to his full height and stepped closer to Josh, “you’re not seriously letting her take you back to her lair are you?”

You came up behind Josh with your things in your hands and nearly burst out laughing at Jake’s word choice, “my lair? Oh god I haven’t heard that one in nearly two decades. Jesus Christ, its a condo, Kiszka. I pay way too much for the HOA and everything.” 

Josh eyed you curiously, “really?”

You sighed, “honestly I need to move but it's such a hassle and it was the only decent place available when I came back.”

He nodded in agreement, “that makes sense-”

Jake rubbed his face with his hand before interrupting, “ENOUGH, you’re not going with her.” 

Your hunter slowly turned his head towards his twin, expression hardening and brows knitting together, “and who are you to make that decision?” The younger twin looked like he had been slapped while trying to form a rebuttal, but Josh seized on his silence, “that's what I thought.” With that, he turned to grab his keys from the spot on the floor they had landed the previous night. 

“What are we supposed to do, in the meantime,” Jake complained. CiCi was standing now, and reached out to touch Jake's arm. 

Josh huffed, “I don’t know…maybe take your girlfriend out on a date or something? She deserves it for putting up with you.” He shifted past Jake, stepping into the same shoes he had on outside, and turning around to check on you. While he and Jake bickered you had slipped on your heels from the night before, and the combination of your heels and his clothes (screw whatever Jake said, it hadn’t been his shirt in years) made his heart stutter for multiple reasons. 

As you maneuvered around Jake, you looked over at CiCi and gave a small smile, “it was nice meeting you,” 

CiCi nodded, “nice meeting you too.” 

Rather pointedly, you ignored Jake and exited through the door as Josh held it open for you. 

“Don’t wait up,” was all Josh said before he firmly shut the door behind him and followed you down the stairs. 

Thankfully, none of Josh’s neighbors were out of their respective apartments and the journey down to the ground floor was uneventful. You followed him down to the sidewalk where he turned to the right and went down a few cars before stopping at a white Jeep, hitting the keyfob along the way to unlock it. It definitely screamed something that Josh would drive. Without a word he opened the door for you, and held out his hand for you to take to help you get in, a gesture that made you smile. As you settled in your seat Josh shut the door and nearly sprinted around the back to get to the drivers side. 

It didn’t hit you until after he had silently handed you his phone to put in your address and he secured it to his dash mount how…normal it felt. This inner voice of your brain wanted to complain about how cliche it all was, but you tried not to listen to it. 

It took four blocks for Josh’s hand to slowly migrate from the gear shift to the top of your thigh. The warmth of his hand nearly startled you, and you looked down at the source and the feeling of normalcy struck you again. The silence that filled the Jeep wasn’t awkward or stilted. It was…comfortable. You hadn’t felt this in a long time. Well, you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel this in a long time. There were close calls, trysts from decades ago that still felt fresh at times, all ending in the same tired ways. 

Josh’s thumb was absently rubbing circles into your skin when he spoke, “I have a question…” 

You were snapped out of your thoughts, “yeah?”

“Garlic doesn’t hurt your kin-, you, does it?”

A giggle threatened to escape your mouth as you formed your answer, “no…garlic doesn’t do anything to us. Didn’t they teach you that at ‘Vampire-Hunter-Boy-Scout-Camp?’” 

His hand flexed slightly against your thigh, and he rolled his eyes slightly, “I mean…my parents taught me things but the garlic thing was never mentioned specifically either way…”

You sensed an opportunity and turned towards him slightly as his Jeep rolled to a stop at a redlight, “lets play a game.” 

He eyed you with a deadpan expression, “a game?”

“True or false,” your mouth twisting into its typical grin. 

He sighed as the light turned green and he pressed the gas pedal, “and what am I supposed to be asking about?” 

“You tell me whatever idiotic Vampire rumor you were taught, and I’ll tell you if it's true or false!”

Another sigh left his mouth, and he flipped through the different bits of Vampire information he had stored in his brain, “ok…you can eat human food?”

“True and false.” 

He looked at you slightly exasperated, “what do you mean?” 

“I mean…we could technically eat it…but it has no nutritional value and doesn’t taste like anything to us. It's like chewing on the color gray. When I was freshly turned I tried eating a muffin and nearly spit it out on the floor.”

“Do you miss human food?” 

“False. I mean…the era of when I was turned wasn’t exactly the height of cuisine…but sometimes I miss how good fresh bread smelled…or pies on the window sill. But honestly blood is so much better. There’s just something about it that human food doesn’t have.”

Josh tried to wrap his head around that, but couldn’t, “so you’ve never eaten pizza?”

“...True…it looks like it would be good from a human's point of view but I’m ok with an AB Positive,” you quietly braced yourself, hoping he wouldn’t be grossed out by your preferences.

But the disgust never came, instead Josh asked another question, “Vampires can’t be born…can they?”

You stared at him for a second, “true…no more babies once you’re turned.” The way your voice went soft at your answer was completely unintentional. Kids weren’t something you thought about, or dreamed about. They were a fleeting thought when you were a girl, but kids brought back memories you didn’t want to relive. You didn’t hate them, it wasn’t their fault, but you just hated being reminded of certain events…or certain people. 

Josh’s brows were furrowed as he formed his next question, but your game was interrupted by his phone’s GPS announcing, “you have arrived at your destination.”

You looked up and saw your familiar building, a 10-story high-rise that had fallen victim to the house-flipper crowd. What was once a charming and cozy building now reeked of ‘seller-friendly curb appeal.’

Josh stared up at the structure as he parked the Jeep and you answered his thoughts for him, “don’t worry Boy Scout, we have elevators here.” He turned to give you a look, another question floating through his brain, “yes you can come up…it's only fair I show you my place…” 

He smiled as you flung off your seatbelt and hopped out of the vehicle, practically bouncing in your heels on the pavement. As he joined you on the sidewalk, you slid your hand into his and led him into the front entrance of your building.

“I wish you could’ve seen the building when it was new. It had the sweetest door man and everything,” you mused as the two of you walked into the lobby of your building. The current decor was “nice” if you considered 2011 the peak of interior design. You often considered Persuading the building manager into getting the building restored to its original glory, but you figured you wouldn’t be here long enough to get too involved. 

Bee-lining for the elevator, your hand still gripped his as you hit the button with your free hand to call it down. Within seconds the elevator dinged and slid open its doors, and you thanked whatever beings were out there that it was empty. You hadn’t brought anyone ‘home’ in quite some time and it would be a lie to say you weren’t practically giddy at the idea of bringing Josh up to see it. Once inside you reached for the panel to select ‘8’ for your floor. 

Turning to your hunter you said, “not a penthouse like yours,” and playfully bumped his shoulder. 

Josh however couldn’t take it anymore and took full advantage of the solitude and took your face into his and slowly backed you up against the wall before slamming his lips onto yours. You melted into the kiss, glad to be even closer to him again. As his tongue gained entrance into your mouth,you felt one of his hands reach down to grip your thigh and hook it over his hip, allowing him to grind into you. The clothes from the night before that you clutched in your one hand threatened to fall as you wrapped your arms around him. Josh’s teeth sunk into your bottom lip, and the gap between the front two captured the smallest sliver of skin. You moaned against his mouth, and he broke away with a sigh before tilting his head and nipping at your jawbone and leaving open mouthed kisses down your neck. 

You started to lift your other leg to secure it around Josh’s waist when the elevator dinged and came to a stop. Paying it no mind, you rolled your head to the side to give Josh better access to your neck. It wasn’t until you heard someone clear their throat rather loudly did you open your eyes to find one of your neighbors standing at the open elevator. It was that unbearable woman down the hall, who had a habit of watching everyone on her floor. Josh looked up as well and slowly dropped your leg from around his hip, but he stayed just as close to you. 

“Hi, Nancy…,” you said with an eye roll before taking Josh’s hand and leading him out of the elevator. Josh and Nancy briefly made eye contact as he walked past her and she looked down her nose at him as her upper lip scrunched up as if she was smelling something bad. “Don’t mind her, she’s just a snotty bitch,” you called out behind you as the elevator doors shut. 

Josh whipped his head towards you and said in a deadpan voice, “she seemed nice. Is she always like that?”

“Sometimes she’s worse, unfortunately,” you laughed as he matched your stride. Flashing a smile at him you rounded the corner and went straight for the door at the end of the hall. You stopped to fish your keys out of your tiny clutch from the night before and unlocked your door with ease. Before you twisted the handle to reveal your home, you looked at Josh over your shoulder, intentionally drawing out the moment a little longer for dramatic effect. Finally, you slowly opened the door to your place, giving Josh the nod that he could follow you inside. 

Josh followed you over the threshold, making sure to shut the door behind him before looking around at the apartment. Immediately to his left was a small side table, where you dropped your keys in a glass dish. 

You continued down the small hallway, your heels clicking against the dark hardwood floors before turning around and throwing your hands out and saying, “home sweet home.” 

The small hallway opened up into two different rooms on either side, the one on the right being what appeared to be your living room, complete with an expensive-looking couch and dark blue Tiffany lamps on both end tables on either side. A lone, empty wine glass sat under one of the lamps. What in any other situation would have been some dark red wine dried at the bottom of the glass, he figured it was probably blood. Josh quickly noted the magazines you had strewn on the antique coffee table in front of the couch, along with a few unlit candles. You had a definite stack of different issues, a few National Geographics, some Vogues, a random Cosmo, and what he thought were a couple of Architectural Digests sitting off to the side, with pages clearly dog-earred for later. 

“Sorry about the mess…wasn’t exactly planning on having company over,” you apologized with a smirk. Josh almost called you crazy for thinking your apartment was messy, because it most certainly wasn’t. It looked…lived in…but it wasn’t messy. He had seen his fair share of Nests, and most of them were so bare-bones given the migratory nature of Vampires. As a species they didn’t tend to stick around one place too long. Even the solitary Vamps he had dealt with didn’t have ideal lodging situations. But it was clear you didn’t want to have just a crash pad between feedings…you wanted a cozy place to come home to. 

Opposite the living room was the kitchen. The lighting was very dim as you didn’t bother turning on any lights in that room. The normal appliances sat in there, but looked clean and unused. Josh recalled your earlier conversation on Vampires and human food. You probably didn’t have much use for it at all in the grand scheme of things. Beyond these two rooms were two more doors on either side of the central hallway, and a singular door at the very end. Even without seeing what was behind all three doors, Josh knew your apartment dwarfed his little attic studio significantly. 

You pushed open the door on the left, dramatically gesturing with a smile, “door number one is the guest bathroom…” Crossing the hallway you opened the opposite door, “and door number two is supposed to be a guest room but…I turned it into a library of sorts.” 

Josh stopped in his tracks and peaked his head into the room. You had bookcases lining the walls, full of tomes of various sizes and bindings. A lot of them were antiques in the current year, but he wondered if you had collected most of them when they were new, and had just held onto them all these years. Trinkets dotted all along the shelves in front of the books, and he wondered what the story was behind all of them. The fact that you were 350 this year struck him again, and he got even more curious about your life before now. He noticed a big squishy chair situated by the one window in the room, with another Tiffany floor lamp, this time dark green, behind it. The image of you curled up in that chair, reading whatever you desired made the corners of his mouth rise up into a smile. 

He turned to look at you, and saw you leaning against the doorframe reaching down to take your heels off. Wasting no time, he knelt in front of you and in a slightly clumsy yet endearing way, took your heeled foot out of your hands and slid your shoe off for you. Your hands rested on his shoulders during this to keep your balance, and you gently raised your other foot for him to repeat the process. Josh set both of your shoes behind him, and slowly looked up at you from his kneeling position. He wasn’t sure where the compulsion to never let you take off your own shoes came from, but it felt natural to him. 

You looked down at his big brown eyes, feeling an unfamiliar warmth in your chest at his actions, which were quickly becoming a habit of his. Your hand reached out and cupped his cheek, and he fully leaned into it, nearly nuzzling your palm. He rose up from his feet to his full height and pressed you against the door frame, lightly brushing his lips on yours. 

“I haven’t even shown you the best room…,” you murmured, “come on.” You took his hand again and pulled him down to the end of the hallway where the final door was. This time you pushed open the door with little fanfare and you breathed a sigh of relief as you walked into your room.

Josh didn’t need to be told what room this was, the light purple walls clued him in immediately. In fact, most of the room was decked out in various shades of purple. From the doorway he could see directly out to a pair of French doors that led out to a small balcony, and through the gauzy curtains he could make out a table and a set of chairs outside. The most interesting feature was to the right of the room, where what looked like a giant arched opening in the wall was carved out to house a queen sized bed inside. The bedding was dark purple, and the duvet was pulled back enough that he noticed you had purple satin sheets to match. Thick curtains were fixed on the backside of the arch, only pulled about a quarter of the way across. 

You turned around and saw him staring and remarked, “not exactly a coffin…but with the curtains drawn it's pretty close.” 

“I wasn’t…that's not what-,” he stammered while his cheeks tinged pink.

You walked over to the bed after dropping your clothes in a small hamper and flicked on the two wall sconces that were attached to the wall inside the nook, illuminating the small space so that Josh could get a better look. There were a couple shelves above where your head would be, more trinkets and a few crystals lined the surface. But it was at the foot of the bed, hidden slightly behind the curtains, was the shirt he had given her the day before. You didn’t pay it any mind as your hand landed on the curtains and said, “blackout curtains. Not a shred of light can get through these.” 

Josh smiled and turned to the other half of the room, where he saw a desk littered with various makeup supplies, a couple books, and a journal with a pen resting on top. Also on that wall were two other doors, he assumed one was an ensuite and the other a closet. He took a few steps around the room, taking it all in while you observed him from your bed.

“You have a beautiful place,” he said softly. 

“It works for now,” you shrugged.

He nodded, understanding. His current place wasn’t ideal either, in all actuality it was a far cry from what he grew up with, but it was home for now. Inching his way over to your table, he looked down at the journal resting on the surface. He turned back at you, a cheeky smile slowly forming on his face, “you have a diary…a Vampire…diary…”

You fought every muscle in your face to not smile, you didn’t want to encourage him, but you faced and exhaled a little laugh, “yes…full of all of my Vampire secrets and night-to-night drama.”

He arched an eyebrow at you, “anything about…?”

You swayed your hips as you walked towards him, “about a very annoying hunter who wouldn’t mind his own business and tried to capture me with silver handcuffs?” Your arms looped around his neck and his hands settled on your hips, squeezing slightly.

 

His eyes seemed to sparkle as he looked at you, “...was this annoying hunter handsome at least?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “for a hunter he was alright…” 

Josh feigned offense, “just alright?” 

“Yes, for a wannabe Boy Scout he was decent,” you leaned forward and nipped at his chin. What he didn’t know was that you talked at length about him in your diary. He didn’t know your thought process flowed from how he annoyed you that first night, how irritating he was, how arrogant, how smart ass, to your reluctant alliance and the first night at the Den, to how worried you were when Dimitri almost went too far, to how maybe “Boy Scout” wasn’t that bad, to where you left off just as you were getting ready for your second night at the Den, before everything changed. He didn’t know about how you spent a few pages describing the worry that was etched on his face the whole time he got you back to his apartment that morning, how his eyes would not leave your disfigured feet, or how you almost passed out from the pain as he ran those final blocks to his building, or how it was his own racing heart that you focused on to stay conscious. Maybe you’d tell him eventually, but right now you just wanted to focus on the present. How you had a beautiful man in your room all to yourself, with zero chances of being interrupted by ignorant twin brothers. 

He pulled you close and secured his lips to yours, and for the first time you two shared a truly slow and lazy kiss, in no rush to do anything or be anywhere else. 

Pulling away slightly, you sighed against his lips, “I don’t want to cut this short…but I really need to shower…” A slight pout started to form on Josh’s face, “but thankfully…I have a real shower and there’s plenty of room for two people…” 

“Lead the way, sweetheart…”

You flashed a grin before skirting around him and bounded for the door behind him on the right. The bathroom was easily eight times the size of his dinky bathroom in the attic, with a gorgeous clawfoot tub at the far end of the room, and a standing shower in the corner next to it. You flung open the glass door to your shower, turning on the water and letting the warm spray and steam fill the room. You felt Josh follow behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, playfully lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. Laughter echoed in the room until it was silenced by his lips crashing into yours. The few pieces of clothing you both had on were shed in a blur, and the next thing you knew you were being backed into the shower, the lips of your hunter attached to yours. The cold tile caught you off guard and you hissed against his mouth at the temperature difference. 

Josh’s hands were everywhere, roaming your body as if he was afraid you’d disappear. Your hands were tangled in his hair, reveling in the fact you had him all to yourself. The way his hands were squeezing and grabbing anything he could reach on you felt incredible, and the evidence that he was feeling just as good was pressed up against your stomach. You felt it twitch as you scraped his scalp with your fingernails and lightly tugged on his hair. 

Smiling against his mouth you pushed him back to the other wall, and looked him in the eyes as you dropped to your knees.  His eyes were so dark, pupils blown as he looked down at you. The hot water sprayed against your back, wetting most of your hair as it spread out over your shoulders. He reached down and tucked some of your hair behind your ear and out of your face. Gently you took his cock in your hand, and he rolled his head back against the wall at your touch. You pumped him a couple times before looking up at his frazzled state and smiling. You were able to see him so much better here in the shower than in his dimly lit apartment, so you got to see details you missed the night before. The way his jaw was slack as you squeezed him, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed rapidly as you quickened your pace, and the soft sounds he was beginning to make because of you. Leaning forward you gave the tip of his cock a playful kiss, before fully taking the tip into your mouth. 

“Ah, fuck…,” escaped his lips and met your ears as you did so, his shoulders visibly relaxing as you moved further down on him. He was practically mewling as your tongue made patterns around and on the underside of his cock, cheeks hollowing out you pulled back giving him the perfect amount of pressure before diving back down. Your hands were settled on his thighs at this point, squeezing his tensing muscles and digging your fingernails into his skin for extra sensation. Josh’s hands had a firm grip on your hair, as if he was holding on for dear life. He tried to keep his head clear so he didn’t embarrass himself with how quickly his high was approaching him, but you were making that difficult as you reached up to cup his balls and roll them softly in your hand. He wanted this to last, and that wasn’t going to happen with the rate you were going and how fast your head was bobbing up and down on him. Gently but firmly he tried to pull you off of him, to get you back on your feet so he could give you some attention but you weren’t having it. Without missing a beat you reached up to take his hands from your hair and planted his hands on the shower wall. Your Vampire strength came in handy as he pushed against you, but he relented as you looked up at him through your eyelashes, mouth full of his cock. Your name echoed in the air as you went back to work on him, along with a string of more curses. He was close, and you practically smiled around him when you could tell he was feeling good from what you were doing to him. You relaxed your throat and went all the way down, letting the tip reach down into your throat while the curls at the base of his cock were simultaneously pressing against your nose. At this point he was thrusting into your mouth on his own, trying to keep up with the rhythm you had set. 

“Shit-, fuck, oh go-,” he sputtered out, opening his eyes to look down at you once more, not wanting to miss a second of this. You looked up at him one last time and his high hit him like a train, with a sound that started out like a loud groan but fizzled out into a high pitched whine filled the shower.. He spilled down your throat, and you gladly swallowed everything he gave you. As the last few drops hit your tongue, you slowly pulled off of him with a pop. The sensitivity was already setting in for him, but you couldn’t help yourself but to give the tip a firm kiss as he softened which caused his hips to jerk and soft squeak to leave his throat. 

Letting go of his hands against the wall you let him help you stand. Before you could get your bearings you found yourself pressed against the shower wall, Josh’s chest heaving against yours as he gave you one of the most possessive and passionate kisses you shared so far. Your mouth instantly fell open granting him access and he wasted no time slipping his tongue into your mouth. He didn’t care if he could taste himself on your tongue, in fact knowing it was him spurred him on even more. Your hands found their home in his hair, tangling your fingers in his curls while your thumbs stroked the shaved sides of his head. The steam was filling up the shower and fogging up the glass. As you made out and moaned into each other's mouths, his hands kneaded the outside of your thighs. His right foot slipped between your feet and he nudged his thigh between your legs. Even with the heat from the shower, you could feel the warmth of the sigil radiating from his skin. 

You let out a gasp when his fingers crept around the back of your thighs and he pulled you up higher on his thigh, planting your core directly on top of the sigil. The combination of his searing kisses and the pressure from his thigh between yours had you biting down on his bottom lip, whimpering. Even with his lip trapped between your teeth you could feel his muscles spread into a smug smile. You began rocking back and forth against his thigh, while his hands helped guide your movements. He peppered kisses all along your face and your neck, working his way down before bending his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, causing you to nearly hit your head on the wall as you cried out. 

You sped up your movements as his tongue swirled around the sensitive skin, you were so wet you easily slid back and forth on his thigh. With a pop he let go of your nipple, and he moved to the other to give it the same treatment. In the midst of this, you felt his thumb reach over and just barely graze your clit. He held it there, just barely out of reach, causing you to jerk forward even harder to get any pressure from it. 

You were almost starting to get frustrated when you felt him chuckle slightly, and he let go of you to move up and whisper in your ear, “what is it? Need something?” 

The cocky tone in his voice caused you to shoot your eyes open, glaring at him, “you little shit…”

He kissed the hinge of your jaw and grazed his tongue along the shell of your ear, “you and I both know that is the wrong adjective to use, sweetheart.”

Before you could protest or make a sarcastic reply his thumb surged forward and gave you the pressure you needed, expertly rolling figure-8’s around you. Your movements faltered from the sudden burst of pleasure, and you could feel the coil within you begin to tighten. Your arms loosely looped around his neck for balance, and Josh leaned his forehead against yours. His free hand was gripping your ass so tightly as you moved that if you had been human there would’ve been bruises in his wake. 

He asked softly, “is that what you needed? Hmm?” 

All you could do at this point was nod with your high barreling towards you. There was no sense of rhythm now, just sloppy movements and gasps for breath. His thumb moved even faster against you, wanting you to come just as much as you did. He looked down to watch you move, slack jawed at how desperate you were to reach your high; how desperate you were for him. 

“Let go for me, baby…,” was all he whispered before you were shuddering against him. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders as you rode out your high. He kept up his movements even when it became too sensitive, giving you a little payback from earlier before retreating his hand and letting it rest on your hip. 

You began to catch your breath, and you started to disengage from your hunter, figuring the human was spent after your little escapade. You were wrong, so wrong. He sensed you trying to move away and confidently slid his hand up to your jaw, turning your head from the side to face him.

“Do you really think I’m done with you?” 

“I-”

He surged forward, pressing his hard cock against your stomach, showing you he was far from ready for this to be over. 

You smirked at him, “ok, Boy Scout…show me.” 

He grinned at you and spread your legs even farther to slot himself in between yours. With a small jump he had your back up against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist. He captured your lips before rearing back and plunging into you. A horse growl rose up from his throat as he felt your slick walls squeezed around him. You were so tight, so warm, if he hadn’t already come just a few minutes ago he would’ve been dangerously close to coming again. His pace was rough, and a lot faster than your previous time together. He still checked on you though, watching your face for any hint of discomfort, but those hints never came. 

“Harder…,” you huffed out.

Not needing to be told twice, he adjusted the grip on your ass and slammed back into you, bottoming out completely. You cried out his name, loving that he listened and understood exactly what you wanted. His bruising pace never faltered, and once more, you felt his hand reach between the two of you to start rolling your clit between his fingers. You sucked in some air between your teeth, still slightly sensitive from your first orgasm but the feeling only added to your pleasure. 

Josh rested his head against your shoulder, murmuring into your skin, “need you to come again…need to feel it…” 

You turned your face towards him to brush your lips against the shaved side, you darted out your tongue to catch a bead of sweat, feeling the stubble. 

This caused him to whine out, “please…”

Clamping down around him again, you felt every ridge of his drag along your walls. The combination of the swollen head of his cock rutting against your g-spot, and his fingers squeezing and rolling your clit had your second orgasm start to form at the base of your spine. He bit down on your shoulder, and another growl erupted from his throat. The edges of your vision started to blur as you chased your orgasm.

With one final hard pinch to your clit, your orgasm crashed into you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body like lightning crackling across the sky. You screamed out at the intensity, not giving a shit if your neighbors heard you. 

Josh couldn’t hold on anymore and as you shuddered against him a second time his own high rolled through his body, and with a shout he slammed inside you one last time before completely emptying himself. 

Neither of you spoke for a few minutes, both of you out of breath. The blood finally started to return to his brain and he lifted his head up to look at you, memorizing your blissed out expression. He couldn’t get over how fucking beautiful you looked right now, cheeks flushed, eyes closed, sweaty hair matted against your scalp. 

His Vampire, spent and exhausted. 

Carefully, he pulled out of you and gently lowered your wobbly legs to the ground. You bit your lip at the loss of him, the wave of emotion catching you off guard. 

You tried to walk to the water, but your muscles gave out and you stumbled forward, sending Josh into action and catching you before you fell. The one thing your spacious shower needed was also the one thing you didn’t have in here: a bench. Thankfully, the built-in shelf that held your toiletries wasn’t very far, and he guided you underneath the spray to get your hair fully wet again. You leaned your head back into the water, grateful that Josh was right there in case you got wobbly again. This time it was him taking care of you afterwards, and for the first time since you’d known him you didn’t want to argue. 

Before you could reach for your shampoo, he already had it in his hand, “turn around,” he spoke softly. Your eyes met his before you did so, another unfamiliar emotion became stuck in your chest, and you turned before you thought he could see it. You weren’t used to this, having someone care. The last time you hooked up with an individual it was very much a ‘wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am’ situation, and you were ok with that. It wasn’t meant to be anything deeper, and that was ok. Then. But as Josh lathered up your hair, fingertips massaging your scalp, the mere hypothetical of Josh leaving as soon as he was done with you felt so wrong it threatened to let that emotion caught in your chest to bubble up into your throat. 

The feeling you had, when you were staring at him under that street light in the park, the one where you felt like a silly little girl, returned. At least, that's what you were telling yourself. That you were being irrational, that you were thinking too hard, that you were building expectations that didn’t need to exist. 

You were too lost in your thoughts to notice your hunters hands had left your hair, and had turned you around to rinse out your hair properly. When he saw your bottom lip trapped between your teeth and downcast eyes, he curled a finger under your chin and tilted it up, forcing you to look at him. 

“Still with me?” 

It was such a simple question, a little check in to make sure you were ok, but when your eyes met his, and those irises of molten molasses looked right through your facade, you couldn’t hold back that emotion lodged in your chest anymore. You threw your arms around his neck and clumsily kissed him again, allowing yourself to show him everything you were feeling through it. He hummed against your mouth and kissed you back, his hands gently rubbing circles in your lower back. 

After a few moments, the suds from your hair dripped down your back and onto his hands, reminding you both you still needed to rinse. 

“Sweetheart…,” he mumbled against your mouth.

 

You sniffed and nodded, feeling more grounded and less emotional now, and tilted your head back into the water and worked your fingers into your hair to get the shampoo fully rinsed out. 

The rest of the shower went by quickly, taking turns under the water to get bathed and fresh again. Josh’s hands barely left your body the whole time, as if he was afraid you would somehow float away like a lost balloon. You made a comment that he was trying to make up for him being unable to clean you up himself the night before, and he gave you a kiss on the cheek that said you were right, which made your chest tighten again. 

As you got out of the shower and grabbed towels for each other off the rack, Josh heard his phone buzz in his shorts pocket on the floor. Sighing roughly through his nose, he wrapped his towel around his waist and walked over to retrieve it, immediately seeing the “8 Missed Calls from Jake Kiszka”, and a slew of texts that mainly consisted of, “answer your fucking phone, fucker.” Before he could start to call him back, his phone buzzed again with Jake's name displayed at the top. 

With an eye roll, he answered the call, “this better be fucking good, Jake.” 

“Oh the prodigal son answers his phone! I’m so glad we have phones in case of emergencies!” 

“What the fuck do you want?” 

“I need you to meet me right now, and bring your little girlfriend. I think we might have just had a break in your case.” 

Josh turned around and looked at you, knowing you heard Jake on the phone loud and clear, “what do you mean?”

“I think we may have caught whoever the fuck is killing people in the act…”

To be continued...

Tag List:  @dannyandthekiszkas , @gretasmokerising , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal ,

[laineystein]

I know that the media would have you believing that war is constant and ruthless but sometimes it’s a lot of sitting around and waiting for orders. And a lot of talking. Really introspective talking. And the things that people say when there’s a very real chance that they might die, are probably the most poignant and well said. So here’s a conversation my unit had in a million different ways with a million different words:

We love beings Jews. We love being Israeli. We can’t imagine being anything else or belonging to any other group. But this statistic that we are 0.2% of the worlds population has been so much more than a statistic lately. We all feel it. We feel how so much of the world has turned their backs on us — how the same people that posted those stupid blue squares on instagram are now using language that calls for our genocide and the destruction of our homeland. We know that for so many people we are pawns in their political game. We know that so many people think we are sub-human and therefore deserving of less respect than any other person. We don’t need anyone to tell us what they think of us because so many people are showing us by what they’re doing or not doing. And that’s okay. We’re used to it. We’ve always been alone. We’ve always fought (and won) our own battles. We’ll win this one without any of you. It’s fine. But it makes me think about how the same people that alienate us are the ones that critique how we live in insular communities (like the neighborhood I grew up in Crown Heights) and how our religion is closed and how we don’t need a place (read: Israel) where we all live together (assumedly because no other group has such a place — which is just a total lie). And there’s this thought amongst many Jews that communities like the one I grew up in in Brooklyn exist as a result of the persecution we faced. Just like there’s this thought that Israel exists because of the Holocaust. The survivors of the worst thing that can happen to a group decided to live together and close out the outside world. Now I’d argue that we certainly haven’t closed anyone out in Israel - I’m currently serving with Israelis that are Arab and Druze. But is our country very Jew-centric? Absolutely. Just like Crown Heights is very Jew-centric. Goyim can/do live and visit Crown Heights but it is a place that caters to what is otherwise considered a counter-culture in America. Just like Israel caters to Jews in an area of the world where all of us were expelled. We are fine living in these places. We have created these communities and curated them to our Jewish way of life. But people wonder why we close ourselves off and why we need special spaces - and that same ignorance is the answer. Sure, our diets are different and we have laws about how we go to school and work and pray that make it very difficult to live in a non-Jewish world but there’s a very real truth that so many people are scared to say aloud so I will: We don’t trust goyim. Goyim have never stood up for us or protected us. Only we can keep ourselves safe. Only we truly care about our wellbeing. We do not feel safe around goyim. And I think we have every right to be distrustful. We have every right to think that our survival and security rests solely in our fellow Jew. So while this has all proven that the Jewish people are amazing and loving and stronger than even we knew, it’s also only cemented this idea that we absolutely need our own world. And it’s clear that we’ve essentially lived in our own world all this time anyway - our world view is not your world view. Our experiences are so incredibly different than the goy experience. If you’re not Jewish and especially if you’re not an Israeli Jew, you can’t possibly understand any of this. And that’s fine! But don’t get angry when, in the absence of your support, we’ve figured it out. And don’t be upset when your Jewish friends - Israeli or not - have pushed you away because you didn’t show up in the way they’d hoped. You’ve merely proven us right. We do not need you. Our communities are enough. Our country is enough. Together, we will outlive you.

[lemonyinks]

Messy Confession

A brainylyle oneshot

1,728 words

Querl knew it was inevitable. 

Really, it would have only been a matter of time before Lyle grew aware of the way Querl had been avoiding him as of late. The fact that Lyle was an incredibly observant person aside, it would not take a genius to take note of how he refused to be alone in a room with the other scientist unless absolutely necessary.

Querl wasn’t exactly subtle, either, in the way he would only give him short answers when they were forced to talk, keeping all small talk out of their conversation entirely.

Truth be told, it wasn’t even something he was doing on a conscious level.

Being around Lyle triggered some sort of strange, illogical response in him. His heart would race, his palms would grow slick with sweat, and breathing became just a little bit more difficult. 

Talking with the earthling would cause an overwhelming swelling feeling to well up in his chest, clogging his throat and stealing his words away, leaving him to respond in only clipped answers lest he make a stuttering fool of himself.

His eyes were inexplicably drawn to the other man whenever they were in close proximity to each other.

He could stare into those warm, enticing brown eyes for hours as the artificial light of the lab made them sparkle just so, flecks of gold noticeable in their depths if you knew where to look. 

The smile lines at the corners of his eyes, the dimples on his cheeks, his crooked front tooth, the way his wavey hair fluttered up into the air as he blew a stray strand away whenever it inevitably fell into his face, the way he would stick his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and tilt his head to the side when he concentrated.

Everything about him was intoxicating.

Being around Lyle made him feel vulnerable in a way he never had before and it was…terrifying, to be frank. It was scarier than any monster or foe he had ever had to face in his time as a legionnaire.

Querl couldn’t quite understand the strange feeling either. Its origin and meaning both eluded him like the answer to an unsolvable formula that he couldn't even begin to wrap his head around.

So, he did what he knew how to do best when something wasn’t working out for him. He abandoned it. Abandoned it so fast he would give Jenni a run for her money. He avoided it like it was a millennium old plague come to haunt him.

That, unfortunately led to where he was now, staring up at Lyle’s angry, pinched expression as the other stood in front of his chair with his arms crossed.

“Remind me again what it is you need in my lab, Norg.” Querl said, trying to keep his voice as monotone as it usually was despite the way his heart stuttered and jumped in his chest.

“This is our lab, we’ve been over this a million times or more. Don’t try to detract from the issue at hand, though. You’ve been ignoring me, Brainy.” Lyle said, tilting his head back to stare at him down the length of his nose.

“I simply have nothing to say to you.” Querl responded. 

Lies, lies, lies. 

He could talk to Lyle for hours if given the opportunity. The man had similar, if not equal, smarts to his own and Querl marveled at the wonderful ways the human’s mind worked. He would love to pick his brain until he knew every single one of his thoughts inside and out.

“And please refrain from referring to me with that horrid nickname.” He tacked on before he can think better of it.

“Refusing to talk to me and running out of the room every time I enter is way different from having nothing to say, and you know it. Even when we have things to discuss, you send someone else to say it or send me a holo. A holo! Even when we’re in the same room! Especially when we’re in the same sproking room!” Lyle exclaimed, throwing his hands around wildly as emphasis.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Querl said, mouth as dry as a desert planet. This time he spoke the truth, he really didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to explain to the other man the reasoning behind his behavior. He truly didn’t.

“I want you to talk to me! I want you to tell me what I did wrong!” Lyle yelled and Querl startled at the fact that there were tears beginning to well up in his angry eyes, giving them a glossy appearance. “We got so close after you came back from being missing. I thought we were good friends, but I guess I was wrong because you can’t even bring yourself to look in my direction!”

“I-” Querl’s words caught in his throat and he found himself unable to form any. Lyle scoffed after a few painful seconds passed in complete silence, eyes red and glassy from the effort it took to hold in his tears as he turned away to walk out of the lab.

“I don’t know what I expected. I’ll go talk to Jasmine about moving me to a temporary lab while we figure something long term out.” He said bitterly, voice shaking.

Querl watched him go helplessly, throat thick and heart thumping behind his ribs. A sense of panic overcame him as Lyle disappeared through the door.

He should want this, right? If Lyle moved out of the lab he would no longer have to make an effort to avoid him. He could more effectively ignore whatever it was that he felt when he was around him. He could pretend he never existed.

But, for some reason, that single notion was the most dreadful thought in the world to him.

Querl was on his feet and out the door before another thought could even form in his mind. The halls were empty as he stumbled to a stop in the doorway, hand gripping the frame as he looked in both directions desperately. He didn’t know what it was, but something in his gut just told him to go left, and so he did.

“Lyle, wait-!” He exclaimed, reaching a hand out to the empty space in front of him.

To his shock and wonder Lyle materialized right in front of him, his glistening eyes wide and surprised.  Querl’s fingers were mere inches away from Lyle’s chest. 

Despite his fear that this was a horrible, awful idea, he reached down to snatch Lyle’s hand and pressed it to the left side of his chest, right over his rapidly beating heart. Lyle looked down at where Querl’s shaky hands held his own against the thundering heartbeat and then back up at Querl’s eyes, mouth agape and eyebrows furrowed.

“Querl, what are you-” Lyle started, voice still watery

“This is what I feel when I’m with you. And I’m powerless to stop it.” Querl cut him off, voice shaking with his nerves. “I’ve never felt weak, Lyle Norg, not until I met you.”

“What are you trying to say right now?” He asked hesitantly, maybe even hopefully.

“I am saying that you’ve done the unthinkable.” Querl said, and then he took a deep breath, preparing himself for the words that would next leave his mouth. “I think that, perhaps, you have made me fall in love.”

Lyle’s eyes blew open so wide they looked as though they may pop from their sockets. His fingers curled against Querl’s chest, bunching up the fabric in his hold. Querl avoided his eyes, cold sweat rolling down the back of his neck. He took tiny, measured breaths as the anxiety of the situation attempted to strangle him where he stood.

He was, himself, shocked by the admittance. Love? He didn’t know such things, or at least, he didn’t think he did. But when he thought about it, really thought about it, it made sense. This strange, unidentifiable feeling deep down in his heart, it was love, wasn’t it? Love and infatuation, an unmatched adoration for the brilliant man before him.

A light chuckle reached his ears and he looked up, heart sinking with dread at the sound as he prepared to be mocked for his utterly foolish confession. Instead, he was met with a shocking sight.

Lyle was looking at him with tears rolling down his face in earnest now. Despite this, though, he had a wide, bright smile on his face and those watery eyes were full of an emotion that Querl now recognized as love. Love that was directed at Querl. Lyle’s lopsided, tear stained smile was the most radiant and beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

“You are such a sproking idiot.” Lyle said, voice cracking at the end. He sniffled and pulled Querl into a hug by the hand holding his front. His next words, muffled partially by the way his face was buried into the crook of Querl’s neck and whispered almost too low for him to hear, made his heart skip a beat. “I think, maybe, I love you too.”

Slowly, he hugged the other scientist back, his ears flushed deeply. He leaned his head against the side of Lyle’s, his heart still fluttering in his chest.

“I-I don’t know what to do with these feelings.” He further admitted.

“Obviously,” Lyle scoffed wetly into his shoulder, chuckling a little.

“What does this make us now?” Querl asked, holding onto the other a little bit tighter in anticipation of his answer. 

He didn’t know what kind of response he wanted. Boyfriends, partners, lovers; all of these words, they all sounded a little too daunting at that moment.

He just barely figured out what that nebulous feeling was, it all felt like it was moving far too fast. Lyle pulled back from his semi-desperate hold, his hand coming up to cup Querl’s cheek as he searched his eyes.

“It doesn’t have to make us anything yet,” Lyle said, “We can figure out what to do with these feelings together, take it one step at a time. Experiment with it, if you will.”

Querl leaned into the gentle touch, his own hand coming up to hold Lyle’s wrist. 

“I think I would like that.”

[arizonaconservativegal]

If you’re a conservative with reasonable beliefs, more power to you, that’s great, we need more people like you.

But you’re doing yourself a major disservice if you take a post about anti-social behaviors from our party and showing you don’t socialize much and just stick your head in the sand and go “nuh uh that doesn’t happen!” Just leaves that avenue open to attack from Democrats.

Both my parents are registered republicans, and my mom has had to distance herself from fellow conserative friends specifically bc of that adrenochrome stuff. (Some of the friends were Korean btw, so i don’t wanna hear racism bs) My friend who isnt a republican but whose parents are both R has her mom sick of her dad bc of this stuff. Even at my job, the guys who talk about politics are work go to the exact topics mentioned in that post you said doesn’t happen. Democrats are just gonna pull up screenshots and use that to undermine everything else youre saying and say its fake and made up too.

Project2025, which I have read, wants to abolish overtime pay unless it interferes with the Sabbath - not religious stuff in general, only the Sabbath and only if you believe in the Sabbath for real. That’s literally only christians and jews. nobody else.

I’m not saying those are your beliefs, I’m not saying that’s what’s going to happen if trump is elected president. But Project2025 is a really big thing and not just bc liberals keep on pointing to it to fearmonger. abortion is one thing but how are we gonna tell people “we dont want christianity to be the main thing we just have morals” if we’ve got big think tanks going “actually we wanna test people for their religon at work” ? radical conservatism is gonna kill moderate conservatism and make people vote dem. my dad even voted for biden last election and hes been a republican since before the 90s. the weird stuff is immature but the things they’re calling weird do happen

Okay look I fully understand that no one wants to believe me here so I'm shouting into the void expecting something to happen and that's ridiculous but I'm going to do it anyway because I still have a few minutes until my conference call starts.

I've been working in Republican politics professionally for ten years. A decade. I'm not talking out of my ass when I say no one is taking Project 2025 seriously. I actually do know that directly. When the Heritage Foundation is mentioned in conversation, people roll their eyes. The thing about think tanks like that is that they don't have to deal with the reality of what they're suggesting. They essentially throw spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks. If something does - then they'll write an actual policy prescription or draft legislation so that lawmakers have something to start working on. I know you probably don't know what the difference is (which I don't mean as a knock on you, it's just not something most people know), but Project 2025 contains none of that. Until the conversations I hear at work start to shift or I see one of those ideas become a policy treatment or draft bill, I'm not going to worry about it. From a practical standpoint, all Project 2025 is today is a Democrat fundraising point.

To your other point, there are roughly 70 million registered Republicans in this country, not counting third party members or conservative leaning independents. Some of them suck. A lot. I'm really not trying to pretend that's not the case. But to write a post claiming that all conservatives are like that is absurd and shows that you don't spend time around us. The very vast majority of conservatives are just normal human beings who go to the grocery store and work boring jobs and take the kids to little league practice and hold extremely boring opinions on politics. Just like the very vast majority of liberals. It would be equally unreasonable of me to go around telling everyone that all Democrats are the equivalent of the Bernie bro who shot up a bunch of Republican members of Congress a few years ago or that they're all the like the people who send me rape threats here or call my old campaign office to say their going to firebomb us. It would be really easy for me to believe that if all I did was spend time around other conservatives and my only interactions with the left were with their raging nutcases. But I spend time around liberals so I know they're not like that any more than we are like that jackass last night.

It is so easy these days to put yourself in a little bubble of people who think like you and only ever see the worst of the people who don't. That used to be difficult for conservatives to do because media was all very left-leaning so even if we didn't personally know a lefty, we still saw them portrayed positively on tv, whereas the left didn't see that of us. With streaming and algorithms and alternate media these days, we are heading in that direction too. Very little scares me more about the future than that.

The only way to fix that is if we all start talking to normal people on the other side the aisle again. That's all I'm trying to get people do to. You don't even have to talk to them about politics. Talk to them about baseball or something, I don't care. Just something so that when you think of the other party, you think of the human beings you know instead of some boogeyman. There are nearly 12,000 people following this blog. That guy last night wasn't one of them - why does he get to represent them? They didn't do anything wrong and they outnumber him, literally almost 12,000 to 1. The only reason anyone listened to him was that he 'confirmed' their bias and they didn't think about it any more than that. They saw one example of what they already believed and let that give them a reason to ignore the mountain of things contradicting them. So I'm pissed at that guy for that and for generally being a shithead.

But I'm still going to say it because it's still true: if you think that's how all conservatives are, you obviously don't spend a lot of time around conservatives.

[thebearchives]

[ 21:47 ] | DR3

PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x reader

WORD COUNT: 0.9k

NOTES: mysterious danny drabble that was pulled from a scrapped max fic :D fun !

he sat alone at the bar, finger tracing against the edge of his glass. scotch on the rocks, only the rocks had melted, much like the glaciers in antarctica. 

god, he hated scotch. he’d much rather be nursing a beer…or a blunt, he wouldn’t discriminate. 

“you’ve gotta stop ordering drinks if you’re not going to drink them.”

he didn’t move, no reason to, but a slight twitch on the left side of his lip gave away his amusement. 

his eyes followed the condensation drip against the outside of the glass, “i like watching the beads drip down.” 

he pulled his finger away from the lip of the glass, wiping the tip of it against the serviette that was seeping the condensation out from under the glass. 

“oh, cut your mafioso act, ricciardo.” you slotted yourself into the seat next to him, hand raised to catch the attention of the bartender, “i’ll get a paloma, and get him a beer, would you?”

“buying me drinks already? consider me flattered.” the man, ricciardo, smiled slyly.

“consider yourself not, it’s going on your tab,” a smirk played on your lips, “not all of us make a million every weekend.”

“you and i both know it’s more than a million, sweets.” he watched as the bartender placed the pint of beer in front of him.

“call me that again and i’ll have your dick cut off before you can even register any pain.”

“kinky.”

“you're actually sickening. stop playing games, daniel, you know i’m not the one for them. what’s the gig this time?” 

“it’s right to business with you, isn’t it, y/n?” he turned his head to look over at you, the smile on his face lightening into a smirk.

“i suppose so,” you took a sip of your paloma, “or maybe i’m just tired of your theatrics.”

you finally made eye contact with daniel, “well?”

“i’ve got him.”

“him lik–”

“yeah.”

“i find it hard to believe you.”

“well, just try harder then. he’s back.”

“god, you’re so annoying,” you rolled your eyes, leaning back in your seat, “and the target? what is it?”

daniel’s fingers tapped on the table. once, then twice. “intel.”

“ah,” you nodded, “i see why i got the message, now. nice flowers, by the way. you should invest in a new jack wilder.”

“you saw me?” his eyebrows raised slightly. he hadn’t seen you when he made the drop.

“no, but your work was sloppy enough to be a signature.”

“thanks, you really know how to make my heart race.” the humour in his tone had gone dry.

the conversation moved on, “so, how are you planning to go about this?”

he stared at you. it clicked. you shook your head, “daniel, no.”

“daniel, yes,” he placed a hand down onto the granite of the counter, “come on, i’ve got more connections this time, i promise it’ll go better than last time.”

“literally anything would be better than last time,” you rolled your eyes, “i’m not sure how much i should trust your words.”

“no, i’m serious this time, y/n. i’ve really got him this time. i’ve got a way to him, it’s right there. i can see it.”

you scoffed, “oh, can you? how dirty is the road leading up to it?”

“nothing a few extra hands couldn’t handle.” he gave you a hopeful smile.

“new links?” you raised an eyebrow at him, going back to his earlier words.

daniel raised his hands, “he was gone for a while. i got bored, ended up meeting a few new people, did some different jobs. you know how it goes.”

“wow, and i didn’t get invited?” you watched as a small smile fell onto his lips.

“i wasn’t playing ringmaster,” daniel gave you a pointed look, “you said you were out, anyway.”

“and now, you want me back in.” you gave him a sly smirk, “funny.”

daniel’s smile turned serious, “it’s what we’ve been trying for our whole lives. working up to it with every gig.”

and it was true. every job the two of you had done had all been for one final job. him.

you mulled over his initial offer in your mind. “going after intel,” you started, “so no cashout?”

he shrugged, “i’m sure no one would mind if you took a little more than the intel. consider it interest.”

“that’d be quite a lot of interest. what, 20 years?”

daniel hummed, “maybe 25?”

“quite the sum” you emphasized once again.

“his entire fortune would be up for grabs when we’re done with him,” daniel took a swig of his beer, “take a share and split the rest.”

“do you trust them?” your eyes fell on his hands, looking for a tell.

“we’re all after the same thing. i do,” his fingers didn’t even shake. he was telling the truth.

“fine,” you sighed, “i’ll take your word for it, dan, but the second something feels off, i’m calling it.”

daniel smiled, sitting up straight in his seat, “wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

you finished off your drink, “alright, then,” you got out of your seat, “you know where to find me.”

“i’ll see you soon, n/n.”

you threw a middle finger in the air at the title, already on your way out, “don’t call me that. i’m not a kid anymore.”

daniel watched as your figure disappeared within the crowd, “as you wish, bellissima.” beautiful.

[mariacallous]

As a devastating crisis continues to unfold with the horrific bombardment of Gaza, there is little sense of how it will end. As a lifelong student of Israel-Palestine, I found my mind racing through many historical dates to find parallels, meaning, and direction.

Perhaps the date that comes to mind for most people is Oct. 6, 1973, the start of an Arab war effort to regain land taken by Israel in 1967. The 1973 surprise attack, which was 50 years and a day from the Oct. 7 Hamas assault, caught a recalcitrant and hubristic Israel off guard and fundamentally changed the way it thought about its policies toward Egypt in the years that followed, paving the way for a historic peace agreement a few years later.

I thought about the 1968 Battle of Karameh. This battle, little known in Western narratives of the conflict but hugely consequential in Palestinian ones, came after the 1967 war, when Israel enjoyed an aura of invincibility. PLO fighters alongside Jordanian soldiers fought the Israeli military, destroyed some military equipment, and captured more. The battle sent the message that Israeli power was not what it seemed, and it helped swell the ranks of militant factions across the region.

But a more important date stands out: Sept. 6, 1972. The day prior, Palestinian guerrillas had killed an Israeli coach and athlete and taken nine other members of the Israeli team hostage at the Munich Olympic Village, where all the cameras of the world had assembled, and by the time a botched rescue attempt by the German police had concluded, all the hostages and most of the Palestinian guerrillas were dead.

The world watched this all play out on live TV. Before that moment, and perhaps since, no set of events has had a more consequential impact on the emergence of what I call the terrorism framework: a set of policies and practices that defines how such moments should be understood, responded to, and prevented.

At the time, the Nixon White House was scrambling to figure out how to respond. Its foreign policy at the time was focused on detente with Moscow in an effort to manipulate Soviet and Chinese relations as the U.S. war on Vietnam raged. The Middle East, a massive arena of U.S.-Soviet competition, could easily derail all of this. President Richard Nixon’s now infamous tape recorder gives us insight into the thinking at the time.

On Sept. 6, Secretary of State William Rogers had a conversation with Nixon in the Oval Office in the presence of National Security Advisor Henry Kissinger and other officials. Rogers’s message to Nixon was straightforward: What happened in Munich was a symptom. “Say Israel retaliates and blows up something in Lebanon, that doesn’t help anyone,” Rogers told Nixon. “What this does indicate to the world is that we’ve got to solve the problem. It’s a hell of a thing to have 11 Israelis killed, and it’s a hell of a thing to have millions of people homeless all these years. So the problem has to be solved.” Nixon was receptive to Rogers’s argument, but Kissinger sat quietly and was alarmed.

Kissinger left the Oval Office and telephoned the Israeli ambassador in Washington, Yitzhak Rabin, to tell him about the meeting. Kissinger had his calls taped and transcribed as well. After hearing about the Oval office meeting, Rabin feared “that those who carried out the action in Munich succeeded beyond their expectations.” Kissinger urged Rabin to go to the U.N. Security Council to try to build a global consensus around fighting terrorism even if the United States and Israel would be isolated there.

Kissinger told him going to the Security Council would “not lead to any practical results but it will focus the problem on an issue on which we can talk jointly while the great danger that I see is that in a few days people will say—as was said at the meeting this morning—we must remove the cause of this.” He urged him that they should do it “before people start thinking about the problem.”

Kissinger was concerned that if the global debate about Munich was not immediately redirected toward uniform condemnation of the Palestinian guerrillas, the more people might think about the root causes and Palestinian grievances.

Herein lies the trap of the terrorism framework. It ostensibly aims to counter political violence, but it does so in a way that ensures political violence persists—by exceptionalizing it as a form of violence that comes from a vacuum. Unlike most forms of political violence—such as interstate conflicts and civil wars, insurgencies, rebellions, or political repression—terrorism is not something we are encouraged to understand the causes of; at best, reductionist explanations chalk up motivations to ideology, which, in the Palestinian case, is transparently flawed since Palestinian political violence has always transcended ideological divides.

By adopting this framework, opponents of this violence position themselves as standing with the victims of it and condemning the perpetrators. But in reality, they are merely condemning them all to continued and more horrific rounds of carnage.

It is a framework that allows leaders with the greatest capacity to prevent such violence—in this case, the leaders of the United States and Israel—a way to absolve themselves of responsibility at the expense of the very people whom they have a responsibility to protect. At the end of the day, it is always ordinary people, not states or policymakers or the media outfits that amplify them, who pay the highest price for this commitment to not thinking.

Israel, of course, would go on to blow up many things in Lebanon after 1972, and its invasion of southern Lebanon 10 years later led to a nearly two-decade occupation and the birth and strengthening of Hezbollah into a force that now requires U.S. aircraft carriers to help Israel deter.

It is easy to react to this by claiming that understanding the causes amounts to justification. That is precisely what this dangerous framework encourages us to do: It flattens political violence into a question of good and evil—to which impulse, not thought, is the only fitting response.

The reality is that political violence is part of the human condition and always has been, long before Zionism and long before Palestine. When humans commit to study pathology, it is not out of some desire to justify the diseases that plague us but rather to try to eliminate them; to the extent that there is any evil in this equation, it is in the ideological commitment to refuse to examine the cause of the disease. Without a genuine understanding of why this is happening—one that does not exceptionalize the problem or the perpetrators of violence on any side—it becomes impossible to heal what ails Israelis and Palestinians alike.

The terrorism framework absolves leaders of responsibility to address root causes, but it can also be manipulated in ways that magnify its harm. There is no better example of this than Israel’s policy toward Gaza over the last decade and a half. It was precisely because Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu knew he could rely on the terrorism framework absolving him of any responsibility for Gaza that he preferred to keep Hamas in power there so he could prevent any diplomatic progress toward ending the occupation.

This logic has been explained by multiple Israeli officials over the years. In 2005, when then-Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon decided to remove Israeli ground forces and settlers from Gaza, it was billed by many as a concession toward achieving peace, but, as his advisor Dov Weisglass explained in a 2004 interview, it was a move designed to do the exact opposite.

By keeping Gaza separate from the West Bank and ensuring Palestinian political fragmentation and a failed statelet in Gaza, Israel was creating an excuse to never make peace that it knew would be accepted. This “no-one-to-talk-to certificate,” which Weisglass said would be approved by Washington, says: “(1) There is no one to talk to. (2) As long as there is no one to talk to, the geographic status quo remains intact. (3) The certificate will be revoked only when this-and-this happens—when Palestine becomes Finland. (4) See you then, and shalom.” This approach, Weisglass added, “supplies the amount of formaldehyde that’s necessary so that there will not be a political process with the Palestinians.” Netanyahu, according to the Jerusalem Post, told his associates in 2019 that propping up Hamas in Gaza would keep Palestinians divided and that “whoever is against a Palestinian state should be for” it.

The PLO had renounced terrorism and recognized Israel (even though Israel never recognized Palestine’s right to exist), and those shifts in PLO positions brought it out of the terrorism framework and into the peace process. But Hamas didn’t follow the same path, in part because the group saw how that path had failed to produce any results for the PLO. Netanyahu, who was always opposed to Palestinian statehood, understood that Hamas represented a get-out-of-talks-free card, just as Weisglass had envisioned.

The costs of the failure to think about the problem have never been higher. More Israelis were killed on Oct. 7 than at any time in the country’s history. More Palestinians have been killed in Gaza in three weeks than in all of Israel’s previous military operations in Gaza combined. Save the Children has said that the “number of children reported killed in Gaza in just three weeks has surpassed the annual number of children killed across the world’s conflict zones since 2019.” The horrific and ever growing bloodshed underscores the failure of military solutions.

How many Israelis and Palestinians would still be with us had we committed to thinking about the problem—rather than avoiding it—in 1972?

Breaking from this continued pattern of violence requires an understanding of the difference between justice and vengeance. The lesson that the Greek playwright Aeschylus taught so many years ago is as easily forgotten as vital to remember: The difference between the two concepts is law, which exists only to the extent that there is faith in the equal application of it.

When illegal violence, including war crimes, committed by one side is routinely condemned and the perpetrators held accountable and illegal violence by the other side, including war crimes, is never condemned and the perpetrators are instead excused and enabled to continue perpetrating such violence to ever greater extents, law exists not as an instrument of justice but an instrument of oppression; vengeance reigns; and we lock countless more innocents into lives of horror.

This is precisely where the terrorism framework has led us.

[coredrill]

perhaps my most insane collection of brvn thots yet

do we think lulu is from the moon. i think this for three reasons. one: when she told superbia she was going to ride him the moon was quite large and prominent in the shot. symbolism. two: when she got her fancy hairdo, she had two little buns that looked like moons. three: “lulu” could come from “luna” the same way it could come from the first syllable of smith’s name. why would she become spanish? don’t worry abt it. also if she’s from there then maybe the “final battle” which obari allegedly said would take place in an unexpected location will indeed be on the moon (pls dont ask for a source on this bc i don’t think i could find it again but it was one of the like. EARLY early interviews iirc. or it was just a rumor. this part of the post is a joke anyways LMAO). however this IS a super robot show so i feel like the moon in general is actually a more expected location for me than like. idk. cleveland

everyone pointing out the animation differences maybe indicating different timelines is so funny to me cause like. if it’s NOT intentional, the fans are putting together a list of fixes to make for the bluray on a silver platter LMAO. also god i hope we get a western bluray release, i honestly am considering getting the jp one if it somehow winds up w eng subs though just cause i know it’s such a long shot for CRUNCHYROLL of all motherfuckers to put one together 🥲 discotek ur our only hope………………

i keep thinking abt the like. pacing of the previous fight scenes being reused in ep9 in such a smart way…………like with smith/lulu v superbia - isami/bravern v cupiridas AND with smith/lulu v knuth - isami/bravern v pessimism/vanitas they kept doing the quick jumps between each of the two fights in a way that made it clear that isami and smith were in conversation even if they were doing completely different shit, and then bringing that completely to the forefront this ep while isami is asking smith why he died and at the same time smith is refusing to die bc of his promise with isami. BLEW MY FUCKIN MIND to see the pattern reused like that, i swear to GOD everyone talks about how fun and hype this show is but it’s so damn GOOD too 😭😭 and then after that the fuckin. symmetrical docking ass cut and then later the gattai which has been held off for SO long bc they are no longer separate conversations. JESUS

called my shots too early tho w smith not melting ppl’s minds in a kaworu manner where they convolute the story x1000 to try to make him seem straight 😭 congrats white boy, your days are numbered until ppl start saying you love isami like he’s your pet dog……….also in a related fashion the giant naked smith fanarts are taking me out LMAO

you can tell idk shit abt fuck when it comes to time travel fuckery cause i rly am just here like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ atp LMAO, the serious theorizing is GONE. i trust the show to finish out in a satisfying manner and also in a way that my pea brain can understand and i’m rly looking forward to savouring these last 3 episodes :] and then rewatching the whole thing from the beginning once the remaining twists have been revealed and i Know :3 like not to get way too sentimental w 3 whole episodes left but we are so lucky to be following this story in real time you guys 😭 like i’m just gonna put the same post i made back after episode ONE here cause it’s true but times a million with what we’ve seen so far, truly this is such a special experience to have and i’m so glad this show waited until i got into mecha to get made so that i could like. Understand it yknow. anyways good for january 14 2024 version of me, you are so excited andyet still have NO idea the kind of treat you are in for 😭

“lewis” jumpscare tho omg. i forgot it took me like a week to figure out what the hell was goin on with all the characters first and last names LMAO. anyways everybody go look at sumiisa sekiha love love tenkyouken right now i am no longer asking

[rhaenella]

You & Me - Rhys Montrose x Reader - Part 15

Part 14 | Part 16

Summary: What happens when reader assassin is tasked with killing the possible future mayor of London; Rhys Montrose. Politician by day, Eat the Rich Killer by night. But he isn’t the only person wearing different masks. 

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Violence, murder, immoral sociopathic behaviour, mentions of alcoholism, drug abuse and neglect, smut

Word count: 6.1k

A/N: I’m usually not a fan of spoiling my own work for readers, but I would like to quietly point out that from now on ALL warnings apply to the story. Happy reading ;)

Song: In the Air Tonight – Natalie Taylor

The air was thick around you. Professor Jonathan Moore quietly sat before you with an unreadable expression. You ferociously fought the urge to be the first to break the silence. You were familiar with all of the common tactics to get a person to talk and say perhaps more than they would’ve liked to share. So, you waited. Noting the soft ticking sounds of the antique carriage clock in the corner of the room. 

“Zoe,” Jonathan nodded. “She’s a very talented, young writer. I believe she’s got great potential.”

You took a moment to answer, eyes raking over the planes of his face. Jonathan had set the pace, opting to dance around it a little longer. Fine, you would dance with him. Let’s see how well he could manage before he gave away his true motives. 

“She is,” you agreed. “Although, I must admit she won’t let me read a lot of it. I think she’s a perfectionist in that way. Wanting to get it right before showing her work to anyone.”

Jonathan hummed contemplatively, stroking his beard. “And is that something you share? Being a perfectionist?”

Was he blatantly psychoanalysing you now? The hubris. 

“Oh, I’m not sure,” you chuckled. “That’s probably for my shrink to decide.”

“You seem to share your sister’s intelligence, at the very least.”

To the outside observer that would be a sweet, innocent compliment. Maybe even lingering on flirtation. But you regarded Jonathan with a similar unreadable expression as he shot you a small smile meant to disarm you. If he was under the impression that you would let your guard down around him, he’d have another thought coming. 

“Why, thank you,” you smiled. “But, one wonders, did you have anything specific you wanted to discuss about Zoe? Besides her academic progress, which as you mentioned is exceptional, all things considered,” you said, steering the conversation away from yourself.

Jonathan blinked. “Yeah, yes. I was simply wondering how she’s recovering. I’m not exactly worried about her being behind. I know she’s more than capable of keeping up.”

The fact that this killer had been able to keep such a keen eye on your sister enraged you. There was no way you could keep your sister safely locked away in a cage somewhere, you knew that. But when dangerous men were lurking around her like this, you were almost tempted to. Yet, Zoe’s happiness was the most important thing to you. And you would never in a million years do that to her. Or anyone, really. It was unnecessarily cruel. 

A little torture, a little bit of fun before ending your victims’ lives. Sure. But nothing long-term. Which is why the man sitting in front of you gave you goosebumps. Rhys had told you a fair share of what Jonathan had been up to in his previous life as Joe. And it wasn’t pretty, to say the least.

“I can honestly tell you, she’s doing remarkably well,” you answered with a genuine smile this time. “She was in the hospital for a couple of days before being released. I’ve mainly been taking care of her and her sister since then.”

“That is wonderful to hear,” Jonathan returned your smile. 

He was quiet again, gathering his thoughts. Or, he really just wasn’t much of a talker.

“Do you think she’ll be able to come back to class soon?”

“I think so, we’ve been gathering quite the collection of books that she needs to catch up on.”

“I’m sure Zoe will get through them in no time. It will be good for her to return back to normal,” Jonathan pointed out.

“Yes, definitely,” you agreed. Again, suppressing a massive surge of discomfort at his cordial words.

It felt like a natural conclusion to your conversation so you decided to stand up, Jonathan following your lead. Really, you just wanted to get out of here. The psycho gave you the creeps. 

You draped the strap of your purse over your shoulder, turning your back on Jonathan to let out an inaudible sigh as you quietly made your way to the door.

“Oh, one final thing,” Jonathan called.

You halted, schooling your expression once more before turning around to face him with a questioning frown. “Yes?”

You noticed an indiscernible look pass over him, his posture more rigid now than before. It gave you all the forewarning you needed for Jonathan’s parting blow. The main reason he asked to speak to you in private.

“Do you know Rhys Montrose by any chance?”

“I do,” you instantly replied, sincerely and light. You were certain Jonathan had seen you with Rhys, so the best option was to pretend to be the innocent woman here. 

And you were right, Jonathan didn’t look surprised at all, indeed already aware that you two were acquainted. Fucking tabloids. You briefly contemplated silently killing off their editors. You internally scoffed. Was that Rhys’ influence talking to you? Or was that just you, finally allowing yourself to take matters into your own hands. You shook off the thought for now.

“Are you a fan of his book?” You quipped, deciding that taking the lead in this conversation was the best course of action. 

Jonathan inclined his head, stepping around his desk. “Yes. His memoir was… Well, honestly, one of the best ones I’ve ever read,” he admitted, slightly scornful.

You let a small, amused smirk tug at your lips.

“You know, being a literature professor, that’s high praise. I’ll be sure to let him know,” you jabbed, trying to get a reaction out of him. 

It worked. Jonathan’s eyebrows shooting up as he quickly clenched and unclenched his fists.

“You’re friends, then?”

“We are.”

Silence.

“And you know him well?”

“I suppose I do, yes.”

You opted to answer his short questions with short, truthful answers. You didn’t want to disclose too much information but also didn’t want to seem uncharacteristically closed off. Though, Jonathan was American. Perhaps that would be his take on British culture in general. Nevertheless, you were definitely not telling him about how you and your sisters had been staying with Rhys.

“I see.”

You canted your head. “Why do you seem so interested in him?” You asked innocently, a curious lilt to your voice.

Another beat of deafening silence.

“No reason,” he cleared his throat. “Like you said, fan of his work.”

“Right. You can join the club with the rest of us,” you laughed kindly.

The defeat in Jonathan’s voice had given you the impression that he believed your pretence. More specifically, believed that you thought you knew Rhys, but had in fact not a clue as to his true nature. Which was what you needed. Zoe and Sadie would be safe as long as Jonathan didn’t know you were in on it.

“Well, if that’s all, I’ll be on my way. Zoe may be feeling much better but she still needs to take it easy.”

“Of course, of course,” Jonathan said, absentmindedly. He strode past you to chivalrously open his office door for you. You thanked him as you said your goodbyes, happily walking out of the stifling room.

You shot him one last glance over your shoulder before he closed the door behind you. His shoulders were sagged and a persistent scowl was carving its way onto his face. It confirmed your hunch that you had indeed successfully passed his test. For now.

––

The sky was ablaze with the fire of the setting sun by the time you and Zoe made it to your sisters’ new flat. 

You had prepared a light dinner, a chicken salad. You’d all dug in, and of course you still helped Sadie with cutting up her food. She complained she felt like an absolute baby and Zoe had snickered, saying she was. 

You’d laughed with them, but your mind was somewhere else. You were still going over the conversation you had had with Jonathan, analysing every tiny detail. Trying to imagine how the conversation could’ve progressed if you’d said the one thing instead of the other.

Your sisters even called you out on it, and you had to admit it was kind of ridiculous. You should go with your gut and trust that your instincts were correct. Jonathan was none the wiser. 

After dinner, when your sisters had gone off to their rooms to do god knows what, you’d sat down on the couch, gazing out into the evening sky. It had been such a beautiful day with clear skies that you could make out a couple of stars. You were quite sure it was Venus staring straight back at you. 

This was how you used to cope with your problems. Otherwise sitting on your windowsill, looking up at the stars to try to find the hidden answers to your struggles between them. You sighed, shaking your head. You no longer had to keep all your thoughts bottled up inside of you. There was someone in your life now who was willing to listen. It was still new to you, but you felt a persistent need to tell Rhys. And if you were brutally honest with yourself — you missed him. So, you reached for your phone.

<<< Are you home?

His reply was almost instant.

>>> I am.

<<< Can I come over? There’s something I need to talk to you about

>>> Of course. I’m just finishing up in my office upstairs.

Ah, yes. Tomorrow was the big day. Finally, Rhys Montrose would officially announce his mayoral candidacy. 

<<< Okay, I’m on my way

And with that, you stood up. You knocked on both of your sisters’ doors, opening Sadie’s first. You told her you’d be going out, not knowing what time you’d be back.

“Where are you going?” Sadie asked, taking off her headphones.

“To see Rhys,” you replied apprehensively.

“Oh, then I know full well when you’ll be back,” Zoe shouted from behind her closed door before opening it with a swing. 

She stood in the opening, regarding you with a knowing smirk. “Early morning hours. Perhaps she’ll even stay for breakfast.”

The way she spoke the word ‘breakfast’ insinuated all kinds of things except for a regular cup of tea and some cereal. 

“Okay,” you cut in abruptly. “I’m leaving. Bye, now.”

The echoing laughter of your sisters stayed with you as you descended the stairs and walked off into the night. You hadn’t thought of putting on a jacket, the air still warm enough. 

You took the tube to Primrose Hill, walking the short distance from the station to Rhys’ home. The lights downstairs were out, which told you Rhys was likely still upstairs working. You took out the spare key he had given you and opened the door, slipping into the darkness. Faint music came from up the stairs, so you followed it all the way up to his home office. The door was partially opened and you peeked through. Rhys was sitting behind his desk, typing away on his laptop, probably working on his speech for tomorrow.

You pushed the door open, the ensuing creaking noise announcing your presence. Rhys looked up from his work, the creases in his forehead disappearing when you fully entered the room. The makeshift bed on which you’d slept when you stayed here had already been stashed. Any remnant of you using this space as your bedroom was gone. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Rhys asked, turning off the soft rock music he’d been listening to. He stood up with a sigh, stretching out his back as he walked around his desk to meet you. 

Rhys sweetly kissed your cheek, and you faintly smiled at his gesture. He stepped back, looking at you expectantly. But before you were able to utter a single word, Rhys’ face already hardened. Apparently, he could read the worry on your face as clearly as day.

“What is it?” 

You sighed, looking over his shoulder for a moment before refocusing your attention to him. “I met Jonathan earlier today.”

Rhys was silent, a little surprised at that.

“I went to Darcy College with Zoe to pick up some of her books and we sort of ran into him. He asked if we could speak in private, and I agreed,” you began. 

You recounted what happened nearly word for word, noticing Rhys’ frown deepening and his jaw clench bitterly. His anger was slowly but surely boiling away underneath the surface with every new piece of information you presented to him.

“I don’t think he suspects me. So, we’re good for now,” you concluded.

Rhys huffed. “We’re not good, Y/N. He clearly doesn’t bloody understand what it means to back the fuck off.”

“Like I said, he doesn’t know who I am. How could he, in all actuality, know that I’m ‘off limits’?” You shot back, trying to temper his growing anger.

“That doesn’t fucking matter. He recognised you. Has seen you with me. Figured you could possibly be important to me. And then had the nerve to approach and interrogate you,” Rhys seethed.

You chewed your lip. You had nothing to say to that. Rhys was pissed off, there was no doubt about it. And, to be fair, he did make a good point that wasn’t completely unfounded. 

“You know what? I think someone needs to show him what the consequences are of daring to come near you,” he grumbled. 

Rhys turned to march back to his desk, closing his laptop with force before walking back in your direction.

“What are you gonna do?”

He didn’t answer. 

“Rhys,” you warned. 

He still proceeded to ignore you, walking past you, out into the hallway. You groaned in annoyance, following after him and firmly grabbing his wrist to pull him back to face you. 

He looked down at you with a blank stare, his eyes cold and dark. You quickly recanted your earlier observation. He wasn’t just angry. No, he was fucking livid. A part of you reeled at the sheer projection of dominance and will to protect you, no matter the cost. But this was going to end in a disaster if you didn’t intervene right this second.

“Rhys, listen to me,” you spoke softly, your other hand landing on his tense shoulder. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? He doesn’t know. Let’s keep it that way, yeah?”

“He won’t know a goddamn thing ever again when I cut off his balls and put them right down his gullet,” he said icily, the vein in his neck pulsing menacingly.

“Bloody hell, Rhys. You were the one who convinced me Jonathan would be the perfect pawn in our larger plan,” you accused, starting to lose your own temper. 

“Yes. Until he wouldn’t. Until he would start running his mouth, or in this case threaten you.”

“He didn’t threaten—,” you paused mid-sentence, exasperated with him. His rage was obviously running away with him. 

You let go of Rhys, crossing your arms in defiance. “What about our last warning? Huh, what about that? You can apprise him of the bribe money and the off-shore account being set up in his name. That will make him back off.”

Rhys’ eyes flickered. Somewhere, beneath all the animosity, he knew you were right. He knew that the plan you’d come up with was still the best play. 

“He doesn’t deserve to live after—”

“No, he doesn’t. I’ve frankly never understood why you wanted him to live at all. But now he’s become an integral part to our plan. Or, our back-up plan, really. Nevertheless, we need to be sensible about this,” you implored.

His eyes shifted between yours and you only noticed then how close you were. You’d involuntarily moved into his space when you’d tried to persuade him of some rhyme or reason. But it also accomplished something else, the heat of the moment evidently heightening the slumbering sexual tension between you.

“Rhys,” you stressed, cupping his cheeks, willing him to listen. “You have to trust me. We do this together, remember?”

You felt his jaw slacken beneath your palms and he momentarily closed his eyes in defeat. You knew Rhys was begrudgingly coming to his senses, acknowledging that you were right. The mention of trust and together ultimately convincing Rhys to let the savage urge to skin Jonathan alive rest for now. 

“Okay?” You prompted.

Rhys nodded almost imperceptibly. At last, surrendering to agree with you. You’d successfully been able calm him down with your touch, just like he’d done to you many times before. The realisation made a warmth and fondness spread through you. 

It was then that Rhys seemed to clock how little space actually remained between you. He couldn’t help but longingly glance down at your lips. His anger slowly starting to become overshadowed by another powerful emotion, one which was filled with a deep yearning.

The elastic band of your stirring desires was about to snap, there was no denying it. Your pulse quickened and you brushed your thumb over his cheek to make him look up at you. You needed the verbal confirmation.

“You and me, right?”

The look Rhys gave you made an overwhelming wave of pure need for him crash through you. His eyes darkened once more. Not out of malice this time, but because of an aching want for you. 

“You and me,” he repeated, his own hands moving to cradle your face. 

You sighed softly, leaning into Rhys’ touch. You knew it then and there. You wanted him. All of him. There was nothing holding you back anymore. And frankly, you weren’t willing to let anyone or anything hold you back from getting what you wanted ever again. That time was over. 

You briefly closed your eyes and when you reopened them, you lustfully stared up at him. Rhys was powerless to resist you and without hesitating, he crashed his lips to yours.

Your entire focus zeroed in on him and you forgot about everything else — the outside world and all of its many issues and problems you faced, faded away. His soft lips moved entirely in-sync with yours in a heated tangle, devouring each other as if you’d been waiting for the other for a lifetime. And in a way, you felt like you had. 

The feeling of Rhys’ body rubbing against yours made you moan into the kiss. He groaned in response and started moving you backwards until your back hit the wall behind you. Rhys anchored you in place, deepening the kiss as his hands wandered down your body. You tangled your hands into his hair and tugged slightly, making him groan again. 

Rhys licked your lower lip and you parted your lips without objection, letting his tongue slide into your mouth to beautifully battle with yours. 

It was a possessive kind of kiss. Full of pent-up emotions and untamed desire, fuelled by whatever anger and fear Jonathan had been able to ignite within Rhys at the prospect of you being alone with that man. Even if he hadn’t hurt you. 

Rhys’ hips surged forward and you made a wanton noise at the feeling of his stirring erection pressed securely against your hip. Heat spiralled through you like a heavy, pulsing thing. You arched your back when you felt his hand slide underneath the hem of your dress and start exploring. Fuck, you couldn’t take this any longer, your patience severely lacking. 

“I think it’s time you showed me your bedroom,” you panted into his mouth.

“Mind reader.”

And before you knew it, you were stumbling into Rhys’ bedroom. You weren’t able to take in much of your surroundings, Rhys invading all of your senses. His hands were everywhere, mapping out your curves. 

Rhys bunched up the ends of your dress in his palms, roughly lifting the thin material over your head. You swore you heard the faintest rip of fabric but Rhys didn’t spare you another minute to think about it as his lips were already back on yours, claiming your full attention.

You vaguely registered him unclasping your bra with one hand. Rhys slipped the straps down your arms and tossed the undergarment to the side. His right hand cupped your breast, thumb brushing over your pebbled nipple. You canted your head to the side to give Rhys more access as his full lips descended onto your neck.

You moaned, your hands moving underneath his sweater to explore the chiselled lines of his body. You made a negative sound when Rhys leaned back, taking his delicious warmth with him. A hint of a smirk played on his lips as Rhys held your gaze, slowly dropping to his knees in front of you. The sight alone enough to make you groan.

The air around you was still buzzing with an insatiable want and hunger for the other, but everything seemingly slowed down then. It felt like the world had stopped turning for a moment. Rhys’ fingers delicately traced down your calves to your ankles, fidgeting with the clasp of your sandals. When he managed to unclasp them, he urged you to carefully step out of them and you did. 

Rhys paused, looking up at you with blown pupils. “Are you sure?” 

“I swear to god, if you stop now, I will kill you.”

Rhys grinned. “The big man surely knows you’re more than capable.”

You were about to sassily retort but you bit your tongue when you felt Rhys’ warm hands encircling your upper thighs, slowly trailing towards your hipbone. He hooked his fingers under your panties, pulling them down in one smooth motion.

You were standing in front of him, gloriously naked. Rhys sat back on his heels, savouring the moment as he looked up at you like you were a gift sent from heaven. You confidently gazed down at him as you moved your hand to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb over his lower lip. He obediently opened his mouth, sucking lightly on your thumb. You felt more of that delicious heat rush through you at the sight before you, getting wetter by the second. 

You were certainly losing your sanity and Rhys clocked it, smirking again as he released your finger. He moved forward to lick a wet trail from your stomach to your ribs, all the way between your breasts up to your neck as he straightened back up to his full height. Rhys caressed your cheek with his left hand, his right landing heavily on your waist to pull you even closer.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “Spread your legs for me, darling.”

And you gladly did as you were told, widening your stance a little. His right hand wandered from your waist, lower and lower towards the place you were aching to be touched. You looked desperately into his eyes, whimpering as you felt his fingers gently part your folds.

Rhys hummed approvingly at the slickness already present between your thighs, shooting you a pleased little smile. His exploratory fingers made you grab onto the back of his neck, forcing his mouth back on yours. Rhys kissed you languorously, his index finger slowly circling your entrance. You moaned into his mouth when his thumb brushed your sensitive clit. 

He took that as an invitation to move his tongue willingly against yours whilst easily sliding a single finger inside of you. Your lips parted on an exhale at the sensation. It’d been too bloody long. You also briefly contemplated if you’d ever been this turned on in your life before. Rhys understood and spoke to your deepest and darkest desires, and it seemed that the sexual ones wouldn’t be neglected. 

The tension between you had been building for the past couple of days. Well, if you were honest with yourself that tension had been there from the start. But it started to crescendo the moment you returned from killing Lockwood. It might be twisted and other people would likely never get it, but you both did. A silent understanding between the two of you. Your bond filling itself with a yearning and desire for the other that ultimately led you to be so fucking wet right now.

Rhys leaned back to watch you when he unapologetically added another finger. His intense gaze solely focused on you as he analysed your every reaction to figure out what you liked — what would ultimately make you see stars. Insistently repeating those touches and angles that made you want to jump two feet into the air if it wasn’t for Rhys’ strong arm wound tightly around your waist to keep you as close to him as possible. 

You gasped at the delightful pressure, eagerly moving your hips to meet the thrusts of his hand. You were already so close to the edge, it was almost humiliating. But you honestly couldn’t give a damn. Not when Rhys was hovering over you, looking at you like that, hand buried deep inside of you. His thumb had been lazily grazing your clit, slowly stoking the heat building within you.

Rhys pressed his cheek to yours. “Are you going to come for me like a good girl?” He rasped in your ear.

You moaned loudly into his neck when he didn’t wait for an answer, instead proceeding to circle your bundle of nerves in earnest. He gradually picked up the speed and you clawed at his back, his fingers pumping inside of you at an unrelenting pace. Apparently, Rhys knew exactly how to make your body sing, giving you what you so desperately needed. It made you shiver when you realised this was only his hand, already starting to anticipate what would come after. 

The combination of his warm breath on your skin, the sureness of his skilled fingers and the sultry tone of his voice as he kept whispering encouraging words into your ear, ultimately teetered you over the edge. 

“That’s it, Y/N. That’s it,” Rhys panted. Your pleasure nearly making him come undone himself.

You bit the juncture of where his neck met his shoulder to keep from crying out, clenching down on Rhys’ fingers that were steadily guiding you through your orgasm. Rhys groaned and he pressed his lips to your neck, leaving behind a wet trail of open-mouthed kisses. The pulsing waves of pleasure just went on and on, seeming like a never-ending bliss you wanted to drown in.

His fingers slowed when you at last started making slight protesting sounds. It was all too much. He was too much. Rhys had arguably just given you one of the best orgasms of your life. 

You felt a little hazy, grateful for his arm around you and him supporting most of your weight. It took you a moment to fully come back to your senses, Rhys using that time to place kisses along the side of your mouth. Your eyes fluttered, feeling his hands wander freely over your body.

You were still drunk on that euphoric feeling when you moved your hands from where they were gripping Rhys’ still-covered shoulders to pull on the ends of his sweater. He was wearing too many goddamn clothes.

Rhys chuckled as he let you ungraciously yank the sweater over his head. “Was that not satisfying enough for you?”

Your hands landed on his now naked chest and you leaned in to brush your lips against his. 

“On the contrary,” you said, softly biting his lower lip. “But I need you inside me. Right now.”

Rhys’ eyes filled with lust, his full lips curling upwards, conveying all of the dirty things he wanted to do to you. Without warning, Rhys effortlessly picked you up and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. You whined when your sensitive and still throbbing core made contact with the rough cloth of his trousers.

“As you wish,” Rhys murmured before refastening his lips to yours as he walked you both over to his bed. He simply couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. You were fucking irresistible.

Rhys lowered you to his bed, quickly straightening again to discard of the remaining clothes he still wore. You let your eyes roam his physique unabashedly, taking in his naked form. You knew he kept himself in impeccable shape, and it showed. Rhys smirked when he crawled over you. 

“Like what you see?”

Rhys pressed his body to yours, making space for himself in between your thighs. You playfully smacked his chest and he pretended to be hurt, which made you softly laugh. His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you, leaning down to claim your mouth again. 

You felt his firm erection pressed to your lower abdomen. You’d already taken notice of the magnificent size of him when he’d self-assuredly undressed himself in front of you, but the feeling of him against your naked body was something else. You rolled your hips suggestively, the friction making Rhys moan into your kiss. He was just as desperate for it as you.

You hooked your leg around his waist and grabbed onto his shoulders before levering the both of you over, rolling Rhys until he was on his back. Rhys breathed out sharply, staring up at you.

Perched on top of his thighs, your hand found his hard and wanting cock. You gently squeezed, eliciting another delightful moan. Rhys regarded you with half lidded eyes when you moved over him, lifting your hips to line him up. You sighed appreciatively when you felt Rhys’ hands gripping your thighs to help stabilise you.

Your hips teasingly circled his cock, dragging him between your folds a couple of times to spread your wetness over his length before you slowly sank down on him. You took him inch by inch, marvelling at the stretch, holding his gaze until he completely filled you to the hilt. Rhys groaned, fingers now digging roughly into your hips. You whimpered at the feeling of being so full, throwing your head back in ecstasy. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” Rhys grunted when you involuntarily clenched your inner walls around him.

“Yeah,” you agreed, planting your hands firmly on his chest. 

You lifted yourself up and then dropped back down onto him, repeating the movements slowly and steadily, allowing your body to adjust to him and his blessed size. After a minute or two, you started to set up a fast and fierce rhythm, shoving yourself down on him with sheer abandon.

Rhys looked up at you in awe, lips parted as he let out soft grunts of pleasure. Your nails raked over his chest, leaving behind faint red lines. He didn’t seem to mind though, instead focusing on lifting his hips in time to meet your thrusts. “Christ, you’re a vision,” Rhys said, his voice rough.

You could only moan in answer to that, continuously shifting your hips to find the one angle that made you want to crawl out of your own skin. Rhys knew exactly when you did. Your nails digging into his chest as you called out his name. 

Rhys unceremoniously sat up, his abs flexing as he wrapped his arms around you, making you sink down on him a little further. “Oh, god,” you mewled, holding onto his shoulders for support. 

“I know, my darling,” Rhys rumbled into your ear. “You feel so fucking good around me.”

Rhys tangled his left hand into your hair and tugged — forcing you to bare your neck for him. His lips descended on your pulse point and you moaned when he sucked a mark on your skin.

You felt him start to tremble beneath you and Rhys’ other hand moved between your sweaty bodies, fingers finding your clit once more. The delicate circles completely at odds with the brutal pace you’d set. It was the combination of those opposing sensory overloads that did it. You came hard for a second time that night, moaning uncontrollably. The rolling waves of bliss stealing your breath.

Rhys followed close behind you, groaning into your hair as his own orgasm ripped through him. He came in long pulses, his body shuddering against yours. 

When you both started to come down from your highs, you leaned back, slowing down your movements. You noted his messy hair and the look of pure bliss on his face. Rhys shot you a lazy smile, untangling his hand from your hair to smooth it back a little. It was probably just as wild and untamed as his. Perhaps worse. 

He started to soften inside you, so you levered yourself off of him with a sigh, collapsing next to him on the bed. Rhys laid back as well and turned onto his side, immediately reaching out to pull your body close to his.

You leaned in to kiss him and he returned it, softly moving his lips over yours. There was a striking gentleness there, wholly different from the utter desperation you’d felt before. Nevertheless, it was no less meaningful. 

“You are something else, Y/N,” Rhys murmured, reverent, propping up his arm to support his head with his hand. You mirrored him, delighted at his words. You traced his chest with your finger. 

“So are you,” you whispered softly. 

His dazzling smile caused an unfamiliar, warm feeling to blossom inside your chest. You acutely realised you truly and deeply cared for him. And that feeling ran much deeper than you’d previously thought.

Rhys shifted his weight then, clearing his throat. You frowned at his sudden change in attitude, running your hand through your unruly hair. The action made him glance up at you, a sheepish look passing over his face. 

Oh, this will be good, you inwardly smirked.

“So,” he pursed his lips. “Do you agree to inform Jonathan on his kind act of sponsoring Lockwood’s latest trip to the Mediterranean, next thing tomorrow morning?” 

He already knew you would. It’s what you demanded from him before. To take a breath, see the bigger picture, and most importantly — stick to the bloody plan. Even so, this was Rhys’ way of giving in, acknowledging he’d been a little overzealous with wanting to choke the professor to death. 

It’s okay, it happens to the best of us, you thought. As long as you were there for each other, to balance each other out, all would be well.

“Yeah, I agree,” you answered with a gentle smile. “And do you agree not to do anything rash?”

“As long as I can keep you here in this bed with me — then, yes.”

You snorted. “Right. I suppose that settles it.”

“Very well,” Rhys said, low.

He reached out to touch you again, running teasing fingertips over your side. You instantly jerked back, smacking his hand away. Rhys’ hand warily strayed back to his side as he narrowed his eyes at you. 

“You’re ticklish?” Rhys smirked, devilish.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Yes. Yes, I am,” you sighed, already knowing that this insight would become the death of you at some point. The teasing and wicked nature of the man telling enough.

“Well, well, isn’t that interesting,” he said, storing away the valuable information for later.

You groaned in annoyance, making him laugh. He really was insufferable. You promptly promised yourself you would find a way to get back at him. At some point. 

Rhys moved over you then, making you look up at him with suspicion. He briefly caressed your cheek before sliding his hands down your body, the simple touch causing want to flare bright and hot inside you once more.

“What? Did you think I was done with you?” Rhys asked playfully when he noted your quizzical expression, his hands pushing your thighs wider as he settled comfortably between them. 

He pressed a lingering kiss to your sternum, fingers cheekily squeezing your nipple. You keened as his mouth slowly trailed down your body, carefully avoiding the area where you needed him most. You felt that pulsing need for him return in ten-fold and without thinking, you callously threaded your fingers through his hair before taking a fistful into your hand. 

“Stop fucking teasing, then,” you demanded, already breathless, trying to steer his head down.

“Patience, my dearest, patience. Good things come to those who wait. And more importantly — behave.”

You scoffed. “I didn’t see you exercising patience when you so much as ripped my clothes off earlier.”

Rhys chuckled, his warm breath fanning over your core as he just hovered there. You stared at him with unfocused eyes, his hands hungrily rubbing your inner thighs, keeping them spread apart. 

“I promise you this, Y/N. One day I will make you beg for it,” he vowed, blue eyes sparkling with sinful desire as he finally bent his head, never breaking eye contact.

–––– 

A/N: My sincerest apologies for the inordinate amount of smut but it’s been a long time coming.

[ashortdropandasuddenstop]

Wow, 1000 followers?! It's hard to believe how far we've come on this journey together, isn't it? As I sit here and reflect, my heart is overflowing with gratitude and appreciation for each and every one of you who has followed me along the way. I feel so incredibly blessed and lucky to have picked up such a wonderful community of people who share in my passions and interests.

Although I may not be able to personally converse with every single one of you as much as I would like to, please know that I see you all there and your support has not gone unnoticed. Every single like and comment means the world to me and I am so grateful for the connection we have built.

I have to give a special shoutout to my fellow RPers here. You all are some of my absolute favorite people and best friends. The way we are able to escape into these different worlds together is truly a gift and I cherish every moment we spend together. You all are my support system in so many ways and I am honored to call you my friends.

As we continue on this journey, I know that there will be ups and downs and twists and turns. But I hope that we can all stay connected and support each other through it all. I couldn't imagine this journey without each and every one of you and I hope we never lose sight of the bond we have created. Thank you for being a part of my life and for making this journey so special.

@notabirdnotaplane  - to my best friend in the world, you are my sunshine in the morning and the moonlight at night before bed.  I love you more and more with each passing day.  I don't know however I ever lived without knowing you before.  Clark and James are -chefs kiss-  and they live rent free in my brain 24/7!

@manyimaginativemuses  - We've been friends for.. gawd, since I about made this blog!   You've stuck with me through thick and thin and Norristat has become iconic because of you.  Your passion for our ship and the dedication you put into backstory and long standing storylines still leave me in awe. I love you and thank you for sticking by me :)

@hom3land3r   -  What can I say.  James will have me drop everything to reply to your posts.  I hear Homie in every word, ever reaction you post. You light up my dashboard with your presence and I swear if James had a tail it would be wagging when you reply.

@slicinggazelle / @schwartzkatz  - I’ve known you almost as long as I’ve known Carson! If I was to say James has a best friend outside of his adopted brother Theo, it would be Gazelle, followed only by Felicia. Thank you for being my support both IC and OOC , and for playing with me this long! 

@wolfsmuses   -  Thank you so much for giving James the time of day,  D and James well.. They are like a precious old married couple and have a chemistry even Left hand has to notice.  I get super excited for each post.

@killmebutneverinsultme​ - Pirate! My only Sparrow that has stood the test of time! You gave me Sparrington. My OTP. Everything I wanted for James and a bag of chips! I cherish you for this but also for being a real friend when things seemed rocky and dramatic for a bit ,and I can’t thank you enough for sticking with me!

@captainofthepearl - My dear Captain Barbossa, your pet Commodore does so treasure your attention when you are around!  Your animations and Sims Comics make me so happy to see. I want to ask you for a million more , and yammer your ear off all day about my Deckhand Admiral and the Captain but alas!

@phoenixduelist    -  What can I say?  Your character is anything but a mary sue. She's got such deph and personality, shes brutual fury and beautiful grace all in a nutshell as a testiment to the talent of her wonderful creator and I adore you for sticking with me through all my boughts of non-reply.

@tretramonti  -  One of my oldest besties on here! I love you dearly and cherish our Throuple of Norrielric. These three just are precious cinnamon rolls who deserve all the love and sex they can handle. Thank you for always coming back when you do go and I will always follow you forever!

@izzyeffinhands   -   While real life has a tendency to keep us from chatting too often. You above all understand where I'm coming from with a character that lives to fight, and enjoys a good bout of pain. I hope we get to more threads going soon too!

@toodamnloyal / @foxsocunningandfree  -  Shay, where would James be without his little brother?   And in a way, it’s the same for me and our friendship! You’re also one of my oldest friends on here and I thank you so so much for coming back to Theo’s name after your hiatus! I missed you when you were gone. And  @leerofthevinegaroons  - Though we don’t talk as much I’m never letting go of you either!

 @itismissswann   - Sweet Lizzy! My only Norribeth that’s still kicking strong and I want all the sappy, angsty, happy, loving threads with the most canon ship to ever canon!! Thank you for being that Lizzy for me!

@legends-and-savages  - thank you so so soooo much for being my Annie/Starlight. I love her already and can't wait for all these hijinks. James will fall in love with her, I just know it.  You are such a versatile writer and I want a million more threads with you in the future!

@ofmythsandfables - Sweet beautiful Lois has captured Norrington's attention and while I know you lead a hectic life , I do so love your excitement when James gets to reply to you, and I love conversing with you about these two.

@vyrulent   - Oh love,  You’re my Chloe, my Simone, my Lydia.. But so much more. You are such a  lovely, sweet, understanding soul who’s been with me so long I can’t even recall not being friends. I adore you and think we should definitely talk more often!

@itslordnow   - I certainly miss you but totally understand the hectic school/life work balance you’re dealing with and hope to play with you again some time, you are one of the best!

@sixba  -  Thank you thank you thank you for giving this real life FC character a chance. James absolutely loves his lion son and even if we never finish one thread, I will start 100 more with you because this duo is adorable together! You’re definitely a friend that’s stayed with me for years and even if it takes us a while to reply, we aren’t any less excited to play with you!

@cecaelianseawitch​ - We’ve only just met, but already I adore you and your ability to both capture Ursula’s voice and tone but also your ability to adapt to storylines thrown at you ( sorry for that! ) You’re a wonder and I can’t wait to have James do bad things for your sea witch hehehe

@count-v-dracula​ - James misses his master and I my friend.  I know your life is hectic right now, but I will always follow you . So if and when the day comes of your return.. I will be here!

@pyramiscmuses​   -   Your characters always make me happy, even if we aren’t playing together. I love seeing you on my dash and hope we can touch base soon for more threads!

Other RPers that deserve to be mentioned but we haven’t played in a long time: 

@firstlove-thesea  , @sonofirishseas , @sorceressmaralane , @pueraeternuspan , @rumpotdeckhand, @scottishoctopus , @omen-promised @teachthekraken ,   @countlessrealities , @winters-club​

If I have forgotten anyone, I’m sorry, but these are the people that actually reply to me and/or have been with me the longest.