#right outside our bedroom door! it would be perfect for entertaining!

[isa-ah]

been following you since PRE bubblegum karkat days and it’s been really nice watching you grow and heal and whenever i see you on my dash and think of your growth it reminds me of my own healing journey. i find that really nice

HAHA that was AGES ago dude. my god. i cant believe youre still around, that was like, the worst of it LOLOL weve both probably come a looong way since then, yeah. life used to be abysmal but now ive got my hubby and mother in law and were moving to nola next month so theres nothing to fear =')

[phantomenby]

Bumps in the night

Anonymous asked:

I had a fun prompt in mind regarding our lovely vampire boys in scenario with a sweet yet amateur supernatural investigator reader (literal soft bookworm - gets caught in a scenario that catches a glimpse of the boys and attempts to playful scare them for amusement. Not sure if I'll steer into the dark or playful genre territory? But would love the outcome either way ♡Answer

TW// Im going to kill the reader very badly, bones breaking, blood, claws, taunting, murder, skull bashing, graphic

They were fucking evil.

Cruel and dark.

You on the other hand.

You were sweet.

You had a cozy little life, the perfect dream home, and your darling parents who fawned over you - their only child. Your mother didn't care where you went, and your father didn't care where you spent his money.

In a way, you were a fairly free spirit.

But you craved something more, something darker. This strange flame had been alight for almost a year now, ever since last Halloween when you and your friends went and watched the darkest, most gruesome movies you could find.

Most of them had been a little put-off, not appreciative of all of the blood and screaming. You, however, oh little old you, you wanted more.

Of course, you would never hurt anyone.

But it wouldn't hurt to explore the darker areas of your hometown, going down the coast on your pretty blue bike, your hair held back with a scrunchie.

It took longer than expected to arrive at your chosen destination, but more than worth it.

In front of you was one of the oldest houses in town, long abandoned but kept up as part of some weird historical project.

The porch was rickety, making you wince as your shoes pressed down on the slightly rotting wood.

It really didn't help that it was right by the ocean, you were betting that it fell off the cliffside before it was ever lived in again.

Pushing on the door was no better, it was a great big thing, made for grand entrances and to greet guests.

And unfortunately for you, you were not alone.

You see, this house was abandoned for a reason, used as a safe house by a certain group of rambunctious vamps who hated random humans entering their nests.

Honestly, it was more of a spider's web than a home, designed to keep humans that entered from escaping.

Marko knew this, all of them knew this. It was why they often visited the place when they realised someone was deciding to pay their second home a visit.

All four of them had a favorite spot. Marko loved dancing across the roof, knocking off the occasional tile, and throwing stones down the chimney, one time he even jumped down and pulled the human inside the fireplace for a feast.

Paul chose the opposite, the basement, and he was currently following your movements beneath the floorboards. There were multiple entrances to the basement, one which led outside for ease of access, and another through a cabinet in the kitchen.

His fingers were dancing along the boards, pushing them up slightly when you stepped on them, watching you stumble ever so slightly when the floor shifted beneath your feet.

It was more entertaining with drunks, but watching the sweet suburbians of Santa Carla being brave like this could be pretty fun.

Mostly because they had the best screams.

However, David had different plans in store for you. All four of them were riled up, as evidenced by the obscene amount of cigarettes he had worked through all night.

He was sitting upstairs, in a creepy old children's bedroom, swinging back and forth on the rocking chair.

You were already halfway through the house, faring surprisingly well.

Dwayne's time to shine came when you began ascending the stairs, if you weren't cursed with such weak human eyesight you might have seen him, and the scratch marks across each step.

You were already looking at the staircase funny, with its jagged steps and slightly rotten panels. David's mind was strong though, and with just a little push you were on the right path.

All four of them grinned at your scream as you fell forward, Dwayne's claws clinging to the edge of your shoes, trapping them momentarily.

You were bleeding now too, little scuffs on your lower arms and knees, the light specks blooming and bright.

Dwayne's growl was almost too loud when he smelt it, his eyes burning bright, glowing hungrily in your direction.

Fortunately, you were still distracted by the pain and irritation to notice it, assuming it was just the old house groaning with the wind.

Continuing on you rubbed your bruised palms, rubbing them on a doorway as you passed.

creak

You froze, glancing to your right. The moonlight was shining through the windows in the rooms upstairs, the door was slightly open, another one which creaked when the wind passed by it.

You were kind of regretting this little mission of yours.

So far you had done enough damage that your mother might notice and interrogate you, and now you were certain this place was haunted.

Pushing on the door slightly you were met with an empty space, well almost. It was decorated in soft colors, and there was an old bassinet in the corner.

It was the rocking chair that caught your eye, moving faster than it should be considering you were apparently the only one in here.

Though you hadn't really explored that much of-

bump

Ok, that was a little too loud.

"Breaking and entering buddy?" oh shit, this was it.

You turned, expecting some old police officer who had caught you snooping, or some poor bum that used this place to crash.

Instead it was much worse.

The man in front of you was leaning against the doorway like a cat, languid and relaxed, as though he was just an old friend saying hi to you in your favourite coffee shop.

He was pale, his skin almost translucent in the moonlight. And the grin on his youthful face was deviant, like he knew something you didn't.

But his eyes, his awful, awful eyes.

They were bright, red and fiery. Inhuman.

You fought to find the words, stumbling over them like your tongue was tied in a knot.

"Y-yo- you- your eye-"

He merely laughed, walking closer, slowly, "Y-y-you you you."

He was mocking you, walking around you in circles while he mimicked your pathetic speech.

Tears were blooming in your eyes as embarrassment flooded through you. He was stood between you and the bassinette now, bending at the waist to meet your eye.

"Wanna know who I am Doll?" He didn't wait for you to answer, stepping forward, "I'm the boogeyman."

And if it couldn't get any worse, his face began to change, bones protruding outwards while his eyes became deep pits in his skull.

Then his teeth, sharper, like jagged fangs pushing through his gums.

You screamed, spinning on your heel and sprinting through the door, leaving him laughing menacingly behind you.

When you reached the top of the stairs another figure swung down in front of you, his long sandy hair pooling around him, and his face equally demonic.

"Boo"

The floor fell out from under you as two hands pushed against your back, the coldness of his skin bleeding through the thick wool of your sweater, sending you tumbling down the stairs.

Your screams echoed through the house, joined by the laughter of two, no three of them as they watched your suffering.

You landed painfully, your arm twisted beneath your form.

It was agonizing, but the adrenaline followed soon after, urging you to push yourself upwards and flee.

Before you could a hand sprang out from the bottom of the staircase, the large clawed hand wrapping around your ankle and tugging you closer.

"No no no!" Your eyes were blurry, both from hitting your head and your neverending tears, "please let me go-"

You yelped as you were yanked harder, the sharp ends of the creature's nails digging into your flesh. Angling your body all you could see was its glowing eyes, the same as the others, and needlelike fangs bared at you.

Your foot was disappearing beneath the step, and you were on the verge of succumbing to its torture.

Instead you were met with one of them jumping down to you, his legs on either side of your head as his hands reached towards you, yanking you up and bringing you to his chest.

"Oh this one smells good David, I think we should keep 'em," his nose pressed to your jaw, moving slowly down your neck, his teeth nipping your skin, "though it's always nice to eat little humans like you when you're all scared like this, the fear makes it so much sweeter."

Another set of hands pulled you away from him, choosing to throw you across the floor.

The wood was hard, feeling more like cement as your body slammed across it, your already broken arm pulling from the socket followed by a harrowing wail.

You were left laying there for a moment, your mind growing fuzzier as warm liquid trickled from a wound on your head, the pain of everything overtaking your consciousness.

They were watching you, the two who had thrown you around conversing while the one who had hidden under the stairs slid out, joining them in their tussling.

Finally, the fourth showed himself, walking past them with a grin and approaching your form.

He showed you no sympathy, his 'human' face returning as he gazed down at you with moderate disgust. His shoe met your face, the cold steel toe of his boot nudging your chin.

"Pathetic, shame though," David looked back at his brothers, rolling his eyes, "if you wanted to keep it you should have thought twice about breaking it this much."

They didn't listen, choosing to just approach the two of you.

Now all four of them were staring down at you, their perfectly inhuman human disguises reformed. It was a shame something was horrific was so beautiful.

"Only one thing to do now boys."

The look they shared was less than pleasant, you barely noticed as your vision grew dark, the deep abyss of neverending sleep pulling you into its warm embrace.

The last thing you saw was a boot being raised above your skull, and the last thing you felt was it slamming down into your frontal lobe.

[darka-art]

Kabal of the Blood Diamonds- Act ch1

The Kabal of blood Diamond : Act 1

The Gladiator from DownWegg.

-----

Note: Plz note that I havn't planed to publish the full story, but I plan to write at last 3-5 chapter. If people seems interested enought, I may end up continuting at last the full arc.

The Kabal of blood Diamond : Act 1

The Gladiator from DownWegg.

•⁚⁛PLZ BEWARE : The fic contains gore, killing in very crude way, swore and sexuall theme. It is not a lecture for younger viewer and I recommend that you perhaps should read something els if these theme make you uncomfortable.⁛ ⁚ •

-----

The loft that had been given to the Scourge and her team was pathetically colored. The ceiling was relatively low, and none of the furniture were made of human leather, but of dark metal. Although luxurious, the apartment was too dated. Shame in Cormmorragh. 

But oh well. El-Shay would go with it. And at least each member of her team had their own apartment, except Veex who insisted on staying in a room full of computers and strange devices that she didn't really understand. 

Evra and her husband Haemonculi, Berbeduale, had built a little corner near the Torture wing. As usual, Berbedual was well organized and had already installed his surgical instruments in the room. 

Savyle was a slightly messier young assassin. No sooner had she settled into the room near Veex that she had already transformed the place into a barracks filled with weapons and armor that covered the floor. She was a somewhat chaotic young woman, but she shouldn't be underestimated.

And El-Shay was there, in the big room far back, where even those big windows seemed closed away from the rest of the world. 

It was perfect like that. She liked to have a quiet room away from the others where she could watch them. She had been Arkon of the prestigious Blood Diamond Kabal for years. She knew very well that anyone could become… Jealous. 

However this time the jealousy came from outside. Indeed, dozens of her precious cargo ships that made the glory of her Kabal had been attacked or simply disappeared overnight, and it had started to titillate the Scourge’s business. 

After an investigation led by his right hand, Evra, the face of the prime suspect had finally come to light: Evisive Lekk. An arena master renowned for his gladiator slaves and lavish parties that entertained the great Elites of the Dark city. 

And that's where she was. 

In a building attached to the home of this great arena master, quietly setting up this little spy mission with his 4 henchmen on the bus quietly showing this bastard that he shouldn't have attacked the Kabal blood diamonds. The Scourge was so close to its prey.

On the other hand, she still had to be patient: Murdering such a popular Noble would have to require a lot of discretion so as not to attract too much attention. Commorragh was merciless. 

Before she could gut that idiot, she had to wait a bit and used a lot of manipulation skills. 

But it was fine. 

She was very good at playing blood chess. 

Suddenly, someone knocked on her bedroom door, snapping her out of her conspiratorial thoughts. 

"It's Evra, may I come in ma'am?" I have heard from our contact.” 

Oh. That, she hoped, was good news.

 " Yes. The Scourge replied. 

Evra entered with her beautiful pale blue hair. His long bat wings were still quite straight. Her round porcelain face still gave her an innocent look, but El-Shay knew her too well to let that fool her. 

Evra was patient and smart. That's why she made the Scourge her right hand. 

The blue-haired Scourge walked over to her mistress and sat down on a chair she had provided for her. 

"Lerro arrived a little early and therefore decided to go and have fun in a bar with two or three newly acquired slaves..." 

And shit. This Reaver was an excellent hunter of information, but he could never help wasting his time in glasses and blade competitions. 

The Arkon sighed and clenched her iron claws.

Her black wings had tensed. 

“I am surrounded by fools. When's that paunchy idiot bringing his butt here? » 

Eve sighed. " Tomorrow morning. If you want my opinion, maybe around noon if he doesn't have too many injuries. And I have a very bad feeling about all this." 

She always shay that, but this time, El-shay shared her feelings.

El-Shay got up fiercely from his chair to serve a drink on one of the cabinets in front of his bed. She opened a bottle filled with red liquid then filled her glass. 

"If he doesn't hurry up, I'm the one who will hurt him. She said, drinking the red liquid in her glass.

___________

Lerro had just finished half his bottle. He already didn't remember when he walked into that bar. The smell of narcotics didn't help. He just remembered that he had sold one of his slaves. It was... What was it called, the all blue? Ah! Yes, a T'au. This one had allowed him to enter this chic little club. 

Small was maybe a little weak as words: In the background there stood three Reaver who had fun ripping off a human's finger with a knife, in the center a player was playing his instrument made of human organ and Eldar and at the bar, of the Succubi spoke of their murderous exploit on civilians whom they had killed while they slept. 

His last slave was a young human also with him at the counter. He was shaking. 

The pale, thin face turned towards his master. He looked at him with his big brown eyes which were already beginning to lose their colors. 

The human was terrified. Lerro turned his eyes slightly toward his slaves. He smirked.

 "And why would I do that, Mon-kheig?" he said in an amused tone. 

"Please... I have two children waiting for me... Please, I'm afraid for them and..." 

"Oh, but it's true that it's all very sad." he said, slowly approaching the chained human. 

"...too bad I don't give a fuck." 

He took the bottle and smashed it in his slave's face. This one fell on the ground and this mis wept. The Blood Diamond spy couldn't help but laugh a good laugh. 

The Waitress didn't seem to have so much fun. 

“I hope you will pay for the bottle. By the way, you still haven't paid for the two bottles... I have an idea: pay now as well as the bottle you just broke, and you can order a new bottle. » 

"Oh LADY, give another bottle for an old mercenary..." 

She held up a bottle. She shook it like a toy you shake in front of a baby. He raised a hand to grab the bottle, but the waitress lifted it higher so he couldn't reach it. 

She looked at him with a big smile on her lips. 

“He, he, he, pay first!” She said with a wavering voice. 

Lerro looked at her darkly. Nobody had the right to make fun of him like that. 

He stood up looking her straight in the eyes. 

He took the chair where his slave was sitting. Lerro tried to hit the waitress with it, but she dodged the chair which instead hit the back of one of the Succubi. The victim of the chair fell to the ground and her friends were obviously unhappy that their discussions were uninterrupted. 

They threw themselves at him, and by reflex, he used his slave as a shield of flesh. 

The warriors threw themselves on the slave, and with their sharp knives, covered him with wounds and cut off his limbs while he was still breathing. The poor human was only the first victim of the decadence that continues in this small bar. 

The three Reavers who were in the background had rushed to the center and fought with the crowd, the player who just a moment earlier had been playing on top of everyone, was now on the ground, a knife in his throat. 

The Succubis were fighting against one of the bar waiters. 

Three Kabalists had entered armed with their guns to participate in the bloodbath and the manager of the bar sent his henchmen to try to regain control of his establishment. 

Lerro came out behind an overturned table, crawling. He was only a short walk from the exit. 

But he just had to wait for one of the Kabalists to walk away. 

Whoever was blocking his exit fired a few shots. 

The warrior turned his head slightly in the direction of where Lerro was hiding. The Blood Diamonds spy stayed hidden, hoping not to be seen. 

The Kabalist remained motionless, then headed into the center to find a new victim. This was the moment Lerro had been waiting for. 

He then crawled. 

A freshly severed hand fell on his face. He almost screamed in surprise, but he restrained himself. He was too close to fail. 

He was only a few centimeters away… and YES! He successfully passed through the exit door and finally came out alive. 

He turned his head to see the bar which was now chaotic, and gave a good laugh. 

As he turned to run, his smile disappeared: The waitress at the table stood in front of him, a gun in her hand. 

She smiled and then exclaimed, "It's time to pay your debts." Then she pulled the trigger. 

And just like that, the Kabal of the Blood Diamonds lost Lerro as well as the valuable information he held.

_______

⛔

© 2022warhammer 40000K belong to Game Workshop

Characters belong to me and @rowscara

[wonlouvre]

hello!! can i request a fwb!wonwoo + angst to fluff 🥺 thank u

start | j. ww.

pairing: race car driver wonwoo x g.n. reader genre: fluff, angst if you squint, also 18+ (some sexual themes, mentions) warnings: couple’s arrangement is FWB, but nothing explicit, accident, injury mentions of sex (please tell me if i missed anything!) word count: 1.5k+ (i have no regrets)

💌: hi anon! thank you so much for requesting <3 this is not as explicitly fwb and angsty and i’m so sorry :((( i hope you still like it tho! i actually thought of developing this into a oneshot someday-ish. who knows? tell me what you think!

It’s no secret that you frequent Jeon Wonwoo’s office a lot. It’s also no secret that something bloomed the first time you introduced yourself to him after he won the race hosted by his very own racing track. You’re interested in cars as much as you are interested in the youngest owner of the most coveted luxurious cars in the world. You own yourself a few. Some you have purchased from him and some he has given himself for free in exchange for the special arrangement that the two of you have.

The attraction was quick but it took quite a while for the two of you to give in. Being professional business partners and all. But along the way, the two of you reached an agreement. An agreement that you thought would only last for about two months tops and yet here you are, eight months later, still running to his arms. You know Wonwoo is no different. 

“Hi Woozi. How’s my favorite racer doing?” You greet Wonwoo’s friend lounging outside the closed doors of the office you’re supposed to be visiting.

“If you’re here to visit your man, there’s a line,” Woozi deadpans as he boringly flips through the magazine with his fingers. “I’m supposed to be practicing with Wonwoo right now but he seems to be caught with something, someone that isn’t you.”

You didn’t fail to catch Woozi’s disdain and that only makes you giggle. You sit on the opposite side of the center table, placing your Prada purse beside your hip as you cross your legs. You feign ignorance on his “your man” remark but the term “someone” fuels your jealousy. Of course, you will never admit that to him. 

“It’s an admirer,” you say and grab yourself a magazine to skim through. Might as well entertain yourself if you’re indeed going to wait. It’s unbelievable. You keep in mind to avenge your wasted time in the bedroom with Wonwoo. “Been doing a lot of visiting on behalf of they’re old father who has no single interest in race cars.” 

Woozi frowns at the information. “How do you know that?”

You look up from the latest issue of racer weekly and blink up at him before pursing your lips. “I saw their car parked in my supposed parking spot. Plus, they send an awful lot of gifts that Wonwoo just gives away to his staff. Gifts are a normal exchange between potential business partners, but it’s not when said business partner always leaves love notes.”

“And, you’re not bothered at all?” Woozi finally asks the question you know he’s been dying to ask. 

You smirk and return the magazine to the table. Then, you pick your bag up as you stand to your feet. “Of course I am bothered. I could be with Wonwoo right now, at this moment, but they’re holding me up and I don’t like that.”

You fix your hair and skirt before strutting to the huge doors and opening them without knocking. Wonwoo is not surprised to see you but you can tell he’s relieved with the way he’s smiling at you. On the other hand, his visitor doesn’t appreciate you barging in like that. They’re resentment is pretty obvious with how they’re glaring at you. 

But it doesn’t matter. They don’t matter as you walk to the man you’re here for. 

“Woozi is waiting for you,” you cheekily say before rounding straight to his executive table to give his cheek a smooch, your red lipstick leaving a mark. You gingerly wipe it with your thumb while he just keeps smiling, looking up to you. “I wanted to stop by to invite you for lunch, but it looks like you’re busy.”

Wonwoo shakes his head and holds your hip and stands up from his chair. “No, I’m good. They’re just about to leave.”

The other person in the room panics. “But I wasn’t done explaining—.”

“My team will review your proposal and we’ll get back to you if they deem it beneficial for our company,” Wonwoo bids farewell and holds your hand to his. “My assistant will escort you outside. Thank you for your time.”

Wonwoo didn’t give them the chance to say anything else because he’s already leading you outside to meet Woozi who’s been waiting for him. You also didn’t have the chance to say your goodbyes to them because the toned arm around your waist and deep voice against your ear is enough to distract you. 

“They were cute,” you make a point to mention the culprit behind your stolen parking spot when you finally get the chance to sit down at Wonwoo’s favorite restaurant. “I think this is the third time I saw them at your office this week.”

Wonwoo gives your orders to the waiter without the need to ask what you fancy because he already knows. When the order is set, he returns his attention to you and flashes his signature smile that makes your legs grow weak. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“No, no,” you’re quick to answer before sipping on the lukewarm water you requested. “Just annoyed that during the three times I saw them, they have also taken it upon themselves to just park at my spot.” 

Wonwoo chuckles and opens his palms on the table, seeking your hand to hold halfway. You roll your eyes, but you don’t hesitate to grant him access to your ring clad hand (the ring was a gift from him and you haven’t taken it off ever since you received it). His phone suddenly dings! and you know it’s Woozi grilling him for not keeping to his end and practicing with him. 

You let Wonwoo cater to his friend’s needs all the while letting his other hand caress yours, his fingers digging on the silver band once in a while. Your heart and mind can’t help but get confused about where you stand with him because of gestures like this. 

At some point, you’re supposed to end this, right? Whatever this may be. But the real question is, do you want to end this with Wonwoo? This happiness, this warmth, this comfort, this lov—.

You step on the brakes before you could continue and blink away the daze you were stuck on for a moment. Wonwoo must have noticed you flinch because he drops his phone back on the table, eyes full of concern directed towards you.

“Are you okay?”

You force a smile. “Never better.”

It’s not less than three days later when you receive a call from Wonwoo’s assistant, voice frantically shaking as they inform you about what happened. 

To your horror, Wonwoo got injured in an accident while performing practice laps with his friends. 

You own race cars but you never thought you would be driving one beyond your usual speed limit because the stupid boy you’re in love with got in an accident. There, you admit it. You’re in love with Jeon Wonwoo not only because of his stroke game, abs, broad shoulders and deep voice among many perfect features of his.

You’re in love with him because he makes today's you look forward to tomorrow’s him. 

You try to calm your heart that’s been beating so fast because of the adrenaline and anger that’s coursing through your blood right now. Wonwoo better make sure he’s not badly injured, otherwise you would throw your hands at him yourself. 

A cut on his forehead, lips and nose. 

And a dislocated shoulder as cherry on top. 

You couldn’t mask your disappointment when you saw Wonwoo getting checked on for the last time by the doctor in charge. You grimace when you hear him groan as they place the sling on him. What do you even do with this boy?

When everyone else is gone and it’s only the two of you left, your disappointment and anger vanishes the moment he calls you.

“Hi baby.”

Your tense shoulder loosens and your legs quickly run towards him (carefully). 

“I hope you know that I hate you right now,” you say without meaning them anyway. 

Wonwoo has the energy to giggle and tug at your hand to sit beside him. He leans his head near your chest, a habit he’s been doing whenever he wants you to coddle him. Carefully and gently, you hold his head and caress his greasy locks. You’re sure it’s going to be a struggle to help him shower in the coming days. 

“Did you see your parking spot?” Wonwoo suddenly mumbles. 

“Why are you bringing that up now?” You frown. 

“I put your plate number on the wall so that no one can take the spot.” 

“Wonwoo!” 

“Baby,” he whines. “Not so loud.”

“Why would you do that?” You hiss. 

“Because I love you?” Wonwoo answers, his soft kitten eyes gazing up at you. 

You gulp and look away, trying not to smile at what he just said. 

“I was supposed to make a romantic confession over the weekend,” Wonwoo says, making you look back at him. “We’re gonna have to postpone, I guess.”

“You’re an idiot,” you whisper before pressing your lips against his smiling ones. “But, I love you too.”

“Does that mean you’ll be staying over my place until this shoulder is back to normal?” Wonwoo pleads, lips moving against yours. 

Your eyes glimmer with mischief. “Yes and that also means no sex until then.”

“Wait, what? No!”

There’s still a lot of talking to do and a lot of changes to happen. But for now, you’re just glad that today’s Wonwoo is alright. 

[tobesolonely]

house hunting

A/n: hello!! I’ve been having a mad case of writers block, so @goldenbluesuit​‘s list of prompts was posted just in time! Thank you and i hope you all enjoy!! thank u @harryysstyless​ and @nationalharryleague​ for looking this over also :) Love u guyssss!

summary: newly engaged y/n and harry realize they have very different tastes in homes when they begin house hunting!!!

warnings: smut

word count: ~3.3k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

With all the joys that came with being engaged, there was a good deal of logistics that you hadn’t even thought of when you excitedly told Harry, “Duh, of course, I’ll marry you!” just four short months ago. Should you wed in the fall or wait until the spring? Outdoors or indoors? These were things that you and Harry went back and forth about most nights, cuddled in bed next to each other before drifting off to sleep.

Something you were most excited about, though, was finally owning a home with Harry. You practically lived together as it was, seeing that you were at his place most nights. Still, his home wasn’t yours—you were reminded every time you had to grab something forgotten from your apartment. Or when he was away for work and you couldn’t bear to be in his large, empty house by yourself.

So while you already knew each other’s grossest habits, (Harry loved asking you to pop his back pimples) you didn’t yet own a home together. Sadly, house hunting was turning out to be a less-than-joyous task when you and Harry were looking for completely different things.

“I jus’ think we’re cottage-style people… that’s all,'' your fiancé’s hand rests on your thigh while you wait in his car for the real estate agent to arrive. “This one’s nice, yeah, but is it who we are?”

You refrain from rolling your eyes at him. “You’re only saying that because they remind you of home.”

“So? They’re lovely,” he sounds a little defensive, but not mad. Your response  to Harry is interrupted as the real estate agent pulls into the driveway.

“Be nice,” you remind him as you open your door to let yourself out. “I understand the Craftsman isn’t your first choice, but she worked hard to find this place for us. At least go into it with an open mind.”

Your fiancé mutters something under his breath, but you know he’ll behave himself––he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Harry’s demeanor immediately changes once the real estate agent is within earshot, turning on his signature English charm. “Thank you for meeting my fiancée and me today. We’re both very excited to check out this lovely home.”

Since you’re privy to the reality of the situation, you can tell he’s laying it on a bit thick, but your agent is loving it. “You’ll both fall in love, I know it,” she begins her ascent up the long driveway and you and Harry follow behind hand-in-hand. “Six bedrooms, eleven bathrooms, and nearly twenty thousand square feet. You can’t beat it.”

Harry seems unphased by the enormous size of the house, but your breath hitches in your throat. Did the two of you actually need this much room? The house appeared to be even bigger than the one Harry owned now––you knew you would hate staying here when he was away for work except this time, you wouldn’t have a quaint apartment and a roommate to go back to when you were feeling lonely.

“H, ‘s kinda big…” you’re trying to speak quietly enough so the real estate agent doesn’t hear you. “I don’t know if I like it.”

“What’s tha’? We haven’t even gotten inside, love,” Harry stops walking to give you his full attention. “You don’t like it?”

“Just the driveway by itself is enormous,” you feel your cheeks growing warm. “I would be too scared to stay here by myself.”

Harry hums in agreement. “Can we have just a moment, please?” He sweetly turns to face the real estate agent who insists you take your time, walking farther up the driveway to give the two of you privacy.

“We’ve not seen the inside, doll. Gotta at least do that,” Harry’s hands run along your bare arms. “‘Member what you jus’ told me? Let’s go into it with an open mind. Don’t have to place an offer on it or anything.”

“Okay…” you’re reluctant and Harry can tell, but neither one of you want to be rude to the real estate agent. “You’re right. I guess it doesn’t hurt to just check it out.”

Harry gives you a dimpled grin. “Y’never know. Might fall in love with it, puppy,” Harry leans in so close that you can feel his breath on your nose. “Besides, think of all the rooms we’d get to have a shag in if we moved in here.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“I hate it.”

“What’s there to hate? Look at how cozy it is.”

“Don’t like the color.”

“It’s nothing to slap a fresh coat of paint on the outside.”

You open your mouth and then close it in defeat. He wasn’t wrong. You let Harry lead you around the perimeter of the house while you wait for your real estate agent to arrive to let you in—Harry’s animatedly talking about all the renovations that can be done to upgrade the house (even stating he could do some of them himself) and deep down you know this is the house you will end up living in. 

“So sorry I’m late,” the agent’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “There was an accident on the 405–made traffic a nightmare.” 

“No worries at all,” Harry says cheerily. “We’re just excited to get inside and take a look at this place. It’s gorgeous.” 

The lady doesn’t even try to hide her surprise. “Really? I agree that it’s a beautiful home, but I thought it would be your last choice given it’s on the smaller side.” 

“How many bedrooms?” You change the subject,  gazing at the house in front of you. You thought it was rather large, but to each their own. 

“Five bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms.”

You glance over at your fiancé, who appeared to be deep in thought—he was most likely calculating if five bedrooms would be enough to host friends and family who came to visit. 

“That’s perfect,” he says after a moment, squeezing your hand in excitement. “We’d love to get inside.” 

The real estate agent mutters a quiet, “please, follow me” to which you and Harry oblige. She leads you up a gorgeous cobblestone pathway that ends at weathered brick stairs. Harry lightly placed his hands on your waist as you ascended the three steps, knowing you tended to be on the clumsy side. 

“Porch is nice, innit?” Harry says to you, lowering his gaze so he’s looking square in your eyes. “I can see us ‘avin a cup of coffee in the mornin’ while lookin’ out at the street.”

Your husband-to-be was trying to sell you on the home more than your real estate agent was––you weren’t mad at it. You simply hum in agreement, not wanting to fully give into Harry just yet.

The real estate agent unlocks the door and ushers the both of you ahead of her, wiping her feet on the mat before entering the home. It was beautiful. The floor plan was open, the living room flowing easily into the kitchen which led into the dining room. Large windows let in plenty of natural sunlight, which you know Harry appreciated. 

You listen attentively as the real estate agent gives her typical spiel, informing you about the history of the house (and how all the wood fixtures were original). Harry is long gone, tucked away in some other part of the house, most likely examining the crown molding or something of the sort.

“...because the floor plan is so open, it’s the perfect space for entertaining.”

“So true,” you respond politely, looking around the space. “I was just thinking that. I’m sure Harry would agree... wherever he ran off to.”

“He’s a fan of this one, I take it?” She’s walking again, leading you to the back of the house.

“Oh, definitely. He’s been telling me we’re “cottage people” to warm me up to the idea of moving in here.”

“Is it working?”

You let out a quiet giggle. “Surprisingly, yes.”

“Babe, come look at this bedroom. S’gonna be ours!” Harry calls out to you from deeper in the house and you furrow your brows as you try to determine what room he ducked into.

“Where are you, love?” 

“‘M in here!”

You roll your eyes at how Harry did nothing to clarify his exact location for you, but you quickly figure it out, anyway. While the house was large, it was nowhere as big as some places you’ve already looked at which you appreciated.

Once reunited with Harry, he immediately reaches for your hand and pulls you into him. The bedroom you’re now standing in has floor-to-ceiling windows, an adjoining bathroom, and even a fireplace. It was stunning.

“This room is nice,” you say quietly, leaning into his touch. Harry nods.

“S’our room. Can’t you just picture us sleepin’ in here? Relaxin’?” He leans in close to your ear. “Fuckin’?”

A shiver immediately runs through your body at your fiancé’s vulgarity, but you try your best to play off your reaction as you turn to face the real estate agent. “Let’s see the rest of the place, yeah?”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

No one warned you about how much work went into actually closing on a home.

It was a long process. You were glad you had Harry, who had financial advisors, to help you close on the deal. You and Harry ended up going with the cottage home, of course, which ultimately was the best choice for what the two of you needed at the moment. 

Waiting to move in seemed like it took a lifetime, even though it was only a couple weeks. Your apartment was a mess of boxes and packing tape, and you were glad you had your roommate to help you gather the things you still had left there (since you had basically already moved in with Harry as it was).

When the day finally came to move all your boxes into your new home, you were more than ready to get it over with. You weren’t sure how Harry could remain in such high spirits engaging in such an arduous task (you were honestly feeling quite crabby), so you let Harry deal with the movers lest you accidentally lose your cool and snap at someone. He kept offering to help them move things, feeling guilty for just standing around while they heaved your extensive amount of belongings around, but they kept insisting they were fine. Your fiancé opted to contribute by going to the kitchen and making them lemonade and little sandwiches, instead.

“We have a lot of stuff, don’t we?” Harry glances up at you as you walk into the kitchen, a mischievous look on his face.

“What’s this we? Pretty sure they’re struggling to carry your things around, not mine,” you snake your arms around Harry’s waist. “Maybe we can have a garage sale? Get to know some neighbors too, hmm?”

“Weird to sell Gucci at a garage sale, innit?” Harry cuts a sandwich into four perfect triangles and sets them beside him on a platter he must’ve dug out of some box. You shrug.

“I’m sure you’re not the only person in this neighborhood who can afford Gucci.”

Harry hums in response, continuing to slather spread onto the sandwiches he was making. “Can you go offer these to the movers? Ask ‘em if they want lemonade or water, too.” He tilts his head toward the tray on the other side of the counter and you reach around him to grab it.

“Look at you makin’ everyone snacks and whatnot. So domestic,” you tease, grabbing Harry’s cheek and pinching firmly. “It’s getting me all hot.”

“Yeah?” He questions, going along with your playful pestering. “Y’like it?”

“Fuckin’ love it,” you coo, giving him bedroom eyes. Harry throws his head back, letting out a loud guffaw. You exit the kitchen and go from person to person, kindly offering them sandwiches which they are more than happy to accept.

The movers finish a couple of hours later, your beautiful home still just as beautiful, but now a myriad of boxes and trash bags. The two of you had absolutely no furniture yet, seeing as Harry wanted to buy everything new instead of bringing the furniture from his old home for reasons you were still unsure of.

Harry settled on making the two of you sandwiches for supper, seeing as that was the only food you had in the entire house, and neither one of you felt like running to the store to buy anything else. He pours two tall glasses of lemonade before carefully walking to where you sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room.

“Our new home...,” Harry trails off, looking around the cluttered space. “The first thing that’s ours.”

“I could cry,” you reply, voice slightly shaky. “Like, it’s just so surreal. We can really decorate however we want and celebrate holidays–”

“Gonna fight wif’ each other ‘n love on each other,” he adds. “Grow old with each other... so happy you’re all mine and ‘m all yours.”

Your heart swells at Harry’s words. He can always tell when you’re growing emotional––he knows you better than anyone else, after all––and he quickly moves closer to you, pulling you into his side. Neither one of you says anything, there’s nothing that needs to be said. You opt to bask in each other’s company and the comfortable silence that fills the dim living room. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Harry scoot the food and drinks out of the way before he pulls you fully into his lap.

“I can’t wait for all of it,” you wrap your arms around his neck, sucking lightly on the area where the skin of his jaw trails into his neck. “Can’t wait to have it all with you.”

“Know what ‘m lookin’ forward to the most?” You hum. “Lookin’ forward to the baby makin’.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at Harry’s admission. Sure, you’ve discussed children before––you were getting married! Still, he catches you off-guard.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm,” his hand slowly makes its way underneath your shirt, loving how he already had you squirming under him.

“I’ve got it,” you mumble quietly, moving away from him. You expertly unclasp your bra and fling it out of the way, letting it join the rest of the mess that litters the floor of your home.

“This is really the first place we’re gonna shag in, then?” Harry asks breathlessly, sucking roughly against your collarbone. 

You shrug your shoulders before moving to tangle your hands in Harry’s hair. “The entire house is a mess, this is as good a spot as any.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he mutters, trailing his hands down your body until he gets to your bottom. He easily shimmies your tight leggings down your legs, having done this many, many times before. “Gonna help me christen every room in this house, angel?”

“Yeah,” you’re quick to respond. You wish there was more kissing and less talking going on, but your arrogant fiancé loved two things: teasing you, and the sound of his own voice. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Where do ya want that kiss?”

“Get your mind outta the gutter,” you plead, tilting your head to the side so Harry can access your neck easier. “My lips.” 

You know what Harry’s going to say before he says it. “Which ones?”

“H, come on,” you whine, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck. “Gimmie one.” 

Harry finally gives into your requests and presses his lips delicately against yours, humming in pleasure as he feels you sink deeper into the kiss. “I’m messin’ with ya, Y/N. I could never pass on givin’ ya a kiss.” 

“I’m glad,” you answer triumphantly, shamelessly stealing another kiss from him. 

“Gonna go all the way with me on our living room floor? Dirty girl, you are,” Harry says quietly, gently removing you from his lap. He helps you lay back on the floor, but not before bunching up your leggings for you to use as a pillow. 

“All good?” 

“Mmm,” you reach up for him, wanting to feel his lips against yours once again. He doesn’t give in so easily—not this time. Harry allows you to take his plump upper lip into your mouth before pulling away just out of your reach. You let out a pitiful whimper which causes Harry to puff out his chest, his ego getting the best of him. 

“Gonna make ya feel so good,” he says quietly, rubbing his palm against your core. Your underwear was still on and you knew he was approximately four seconds away from ripping them off.

“I know,” you answer quickly. “I know, H.”

“You sound impatient.”

“I just wanna get on with it.”

Harry sits back on his heels. “What’s tha’ rush? Jus’ us, yeah? Jus’ me?”

“I need it,” you say under your breath. You were usually quite vocal in bed with Harry, but something about the way his gaze fixed on you had butterflies fluttering all-around your stomach.

“What do you need?” Harry taps your bum while he’s saying this, signaling for you to lift yourself slightly off the ground so he can get them around your ankles. 

“I need you in me,” you whisper. You knew he knew exactly where you needed him, but you’d stroke his ego a bit if it meant he’d fuck you just how you wanted him to. “Hard. F-fast.”

“I can manage that,” he cheekily replies, giving his hard cock three tugs before pressing himself to your entrance. “Don’t want me to eat ya out or summat?”

“No,” you answer entirely too quickly. “Please just fuck me, H-”

He understands just how needy and desperate you are now and wastes no more time, swiftly entering your tight cunt like he was made just for you. Your body always molded together so perfectly––no one knew you better than he did. When you were really pressed for time, he could get you off in less than five minutes. Although his pace is relentless tonight though, there is no rush. 

You felt full in such a way that only Harry could make happen. You let out a loud moan as he moves your leg ever so slightly to angle you in such a way that he knew would hit your spongy walls deep inside of you.

“Y’like it? Like me fuckin’ into ya like this?”

“Love it,” you moan breathlessly, reaching to cradle your tits. Harry raises his eyebrows, pace faltering slightly.

“What are you bein’ so quiet for? S’no one here except us,” he reaches in between your sweaty bodies to flick your clit. “Can feel you clenchin’ ‘round me–are you gonna come, puppy? Come around my cock?”

His teasing is all it takes for you to cum around him, clenching down so tightly that it takes a surprising deal of strength for him to keep moving. Harry follows shortly behind you, letting out an animalistic groan that sounds downright filthy. In that moment, you were glad that there was no one else in the house because if there was, they definitely would’ve heard you and Harry coming down from your respective highs together. He speaks after a moment, chest still heaving.

“One room down, the rest of the house to go.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

as always, please let me know what you thought here!

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Punk gerard pls maybe highschool or college au idc u can basically do whatever u want maybe even smut if your up to it. Thanks:)

Title: Subtle Scratches

A/N: Here’s a little story for this request! I’m surprised it only took me a day to write lol I’ve been facing a lot of stress and writer’s block recently. Also, just as a quick thing: I personally do not write smut, I’m honestly kinda scared to so yeah. But thanks for the request! Pairing: Punk!Teen!Gerard x Teen!F!Reader Word count: 1,912 Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood and fighting.

You were thankful now to have trustworthy parents, never quite understanding the privilege.

You happily laid in your boyfriends bed next to him. It was just simple cuddling, he was still in his black jeans and semi-tight ripped shirt of some random 90s band he had probably introduced to you months past. You were happily under his arm, after heading home before his house to change into a pair of sweats and a big, baggy sweatshirt that was three sizes too big for you. Your boyfriend had a cigarette in his mouth, taking inhales and exhales out of the window right next to his bed, which was slightly cracked open solely for the purpose of ventilation, or else the freezing nature of a Jersey winter seeping it’s way into his bedroom wouldn’t have been nearly as acceptable.

You took your own drag of your disposable vape, some lemonade flavor you recalled, preferring the soft, and relaxing feeling from vapor and flavor not smoke and a tobacco filled after taste. Gerard always made fun of you for it until he ran out of a pack, sometimes more desperate than others for some relief, where you would hand him yours so he could get a little buzz. The nicotine was of course not as strong in yours, but it was something to hold him off.

He took small strands of your ever-so-lightly wavy hair with soft tangles at the end, running them through it and picking some of the tangles out with ease. You didn’t need a movie, or show, or music to entertain the two of you together. No, this was perfect.

You heard your phone buzz from his nightstand next to you. “The fuck.” You muttered with a huff as you briefly got our of his grip to review whatever you needed to see. “Hell.” You sighed, taking another drag.

“You alright?” He asked, looking over at you still laying down. You nodded.

“I fucking forgot, I gotta tutor a kid.” You reluctantly sat up in his bed. He whined. “I know, like I wanna tutor soon-to-be sorority girls who don’t know what y=mx+b means. But at least I make money.” He took another groan in protest. “I promise, I’ll be back in an hour.” You gave him a kiss on the head.

“Why the fuck are we still here?” Gerard mumbled next to you, leather jacket still on in the halls considering the freezing temperatures outside. You shrugged.

“Less than a year left, Gee.” You reminded him, walking through the hallways of this hell hole surrounded with other students jam packed like sardines in the fucked up American public education system. “Besides, it hasn’t been bad this year. It’s December and you’ve only had what, three fights? You’re doing better.” You admitted.

“I think it’s all that court appointed anger counseling.” “Probably is.” You softly smiled. You reached the door to your first hour, where you Gerard said goodbye with a simple wave, never abiding by the stupid couple PDA that wanted to make both of you throw up in your mouths.

The day trailed on as slow as usual, since you and Gerard had no classes together. You were in honors and AP core classes, he was in regular. You took academic electives, he hopped on every chance for art he could. You knew he was one big softy, specifically in terms of sketching and creating, but he would never publicly show it. The weathered leather bomber jacket with his combat boots and faded scars on his face from his list of fights spoke for themselves.

You two took different cars to and from school, primarily because you always had homework and had to get home ASAP to finish it to have even an ounce of time to talk to Gerard during weekdays. But you had managed to begin and manage your schedule better, leaving for more couple time in yours or his room, usually his given his parents were more leaned back than yours.

“Hey sugar.” He smiled, letting you in through his back door. “Ya know you can let yourself in, right? You have a key-” “I don’t wanna be rude.” You explained, “I mean, I don’t know, if you’re like masturbating or something it gives you time to-” “Alright, let’s end that there.” He rolled his eyes, you leading him up the stairs.

You walked into his room, plopping yourself down on his bed which smelled just like him. Surprisingly, his room had a pretty tolerable smell for a teenage boy. He always described your room as smelling “girly” solely because of your absurd candle collection that kept any sweat and must away.

He laid on the bed next to you, but when he didn’t wrap his arm around you immediately you knew something was off. “Hon?” You asked, looking over, “What’s wrong?” He didn’t respond, physically or verbally. “Gee?” You asked after a few seconds. He took a deep breath.

“I don’t know.” He admitted, looking at you, “I’m just worried.” “About what?” You asked him, furrowing your eyebrows.

“You.” “Me?” You asked. He nodded. “Why?” “You just-” He collected his words, “You have a really bright fucking future, ya know? Like probably the best chance to take over the world out of everyone at our school. And you’re wasting your time on me.”

“Gee-” You sat up holding your breath.

“Like, you’re so much smarter than anyone. And it’s amazing, and you help me with my essays and stuff but why waste it on me? Y/N/N, I’m going to fucking art school.” “So?” You asked, “You’re brilliant with art! And that’s amazing, because not many people are gifted at drawing and sketching. Gee, you made me a fucking comic of us for my birthday, and it was fucking incredible. I would expect to see that published by DC or something. You have a bright future too. It’s just not in the same field I wanna go into.”

“It’s not a respected field, is what you mean.” “No,” You huffed, “Sure, some people don’t respect art. But look at how many people visit art museums all the time. Lots of people love art and respect it.” He huffed, reaching to his nightstand to grab his pack and lighter.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He mumbled with the cigarette in between his two lips, fumbling with the lighter. He finally got it, taking a deep breath and letting out. “So perfect.”

“Gerard!” You stormed down the hall, of course seeing your boyfriend with a kid against a locker. There was already a crowd swarming, and if it wasn’t for Frank being shockingly fast at running, you wouldn’t have known until minutes later. Your boyfriend didn’t break his gaze from his next victim, who had a smirk on his own face being against a locker.

You pushed through the crowd, grabbing onto Gerard’s arm, his face finally looking down at yours. “We’re not doing this again.” You muttered through clenched teeth. It was a ‘disapproving mother’ look for sure, and one of pure anger at this point. He clearly saw that look, putting the kid down finally, and you grabbing his hand to walk him away.

“Fucking pussy, Way.” You weren’t sure what the hell happened, but in moments Gerard was out of your grasp and you heard gasps. Looking back, the kid was on the floor unconscious, blood spilling from his nose as Gerard stood over him.

“I’m not a big fan of misogynistic terms, asshole.” Gerard said, looking down, before shaking off his bloody hand causing some additional splatters across the floor, and walking back to you, your mouth now agape. “Sorry about that sugar-” “You better have a good fucking reason as to why that shit went down.” He opened his mouth to speak but you interrupted, “Bathroom. Now.”

You had Gerard sit on one of the sinks as you leaned in to clean off the blood on his hand, and the slight scratch on his cheek that was dripping little blood. “Why?” You asked, frustration lacing your voice. “You were doing so well and then-” “I know,” He sighed out, making eye contact with you, “I know.”

You huffed knowing he probably did it, but having a verbal argument in the school bathroom after administrators were probably already looking for him was not ideal by any means. So you had to shut yourself up.

“What’s the damage?” You asked, waiting for Gerard after school, leaning on your car. “Four-day suspension.” He sighed, holding up the slip with a tight smile. You rolled your eyes.

“We’ll talk about it at your place.” You sighed, opening the driver’s door and stepping in.

You sat on his bed, waiting for him since you had managed to beat him home. You scurried through your backpack to find your disposable, taking a long, deep inhale and exhale to relax your senses, which did so instantly, closing your eyes. You loved Gerard dearly, but he was a punk. It was his nature to want to draw blood and start fights, borderline like an animal.

You adored his dominant nature, his ability to scare anyone off with a single glance, how chill and laid back he always was. You loved how he was so different in front of you, and his friends, and Mikey. You loved the way he smirked at you from across the hall, or when he took his right hand and ran it through his greasy, messy hair styling it back.

“The nic hitting that good, huh, sugar?” You heard his voice, opening your eyes to see him leaning in the doorway. “Give me.” He told you, reaching his hand out and walking towards you. You handed it to him with reluctance, giving him a resentful stare. He chuckled, taking his own long puff. “This one actually tastes kinda good. Ran out of boxes today.” He explained, handing it back, “Didn’t have time to pick any up.” You hummed and nodded. “Honey, please don’t be mad-” He begged for a second, getting frustrated at himself.

“Gee, I get it. All the fighting and shit, it’s in your nature. But please, just try not to do it, no matter how hard it is.” You asked, “Even if it’s a real jackass, physically hurting someone’s not good.” “I know,” He responded with a sigh, “It’s just the guy today-” “Remember what the rule is?” You interrupted.

“No excuses.” He responded and you nodded, leaning over to lay in his lap.

“C’mon, let’s cuddle.” You smiled up at him, grabbing his waist to hug him. “It’s cold outside.” He lightly chuckled.

“It is, sugar.” He responded, removing you for only a moment to lay down on his back, inviting you to lay on top of him. You happily followed, putting your leg on his and wrapping your arm around his chest, placing your face in the warm crook of his neck.

“You’re such a pain in the ass.” You mumbled with a small smile.

“I’m your pain in the ass.” “That was cheesy.” You both lightly laughed. “Just, please, I hate seeing you getting even a scratch.” “I know.” He whispered, placing a long kiss on your forehead. “I promise I’ll try harder.” You nodded, looking up to caress his cheeks with one of your hands, making sure not to even graze the scratch that resided across it.

“Love you.” You smiled up at him. He smiled back,

“Love you too.”

[lepusrufus]

To bargain for immortality pt.4

The first thing to come to her conscious mind as soon as she woke up were always the faint distant sounds of her home. Faint, as not only was Cassandra's bedroom on one of the higher floors, but any staff members knew better than to make noise while their mistresses were sleeping. Distant barking made its way past a window left ajar, accompanied by scribbling noises.

Nicole turned around, legs tangled in the blanket that was shared until not long ago, to look for a colder spot warranted by the warm May weather. The realization that she was alone in bed made its way through the haze still remaining from sleep. That, in itself, was not unusual as Cassandra almost always woke up first and busied herself with something while waiting for her to wake up.

"Cassandra?" She called out quietly, voice still groggy with sleep and eyes not even bothering to open.

"Just a moment," came her response from the other side of the room, likely the desk, as the scratchy sound of pencil on paper stopped.

The chair was pushed away and a handful of steps took Cassandra to the door, where a maid was waiting outside as per routine. After a couple hushed instructions, the door clicked shut again and she finally approached the bed, looking down at her wife with fondness. She bent down to leave a kiss on top of messy auburn hair.

"Good morning."

Her answer came in the form of a returned kiss and impatient tug of her hand, that she gladly indulged by sitting down on top of the soft cushions that she had priorly abandoned. Nicole wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her waist and nuzzling into her side, happy to feel the cool skin underneath a thin grey robe. Cassandra decided that her wife seemed awake enough to receive news, despite the obvious refusal to even crack an eye open.

"Bela wants to go into town later and asked if we'd like to come."

There they were, emerald eyes finally open and staring up at her in surprise.

"Did you say yes?"

Cassandra scoffed. "And finally get the chance to go out and stretch my legs after being locked up in the castle for all winter? Absolutely not."

That got her an eye roll. "In that case I'll keep on sleeping through the whole evening," Nicole said, pretending to go back to the dream she had just left unfinished, something the mild tiredness that had settled in her body seemed more than happy about.

"Oh no you don't."

Two strong hands gripped her shoulders and shifted her into Cassandra's lap, thin lips intoxicatingly close to her ear. "I even prepared the perfect outfits for the two of us, I simply cannot believe you'd pass up this opportunity for some extra sleep."

Nicole laughed at the feign offense, voice finally clear and free from the morning raspiness. She stretched her arms upwards with a few satisfying pops and then let her hands rest on Cassandra's shoulders.

"My, that's so thoughtful of you," she said, leaving a soft kiss on her lips. "Good morning."

The moment was kindly interrupted by a curt knock on the heavy door. Nicole groaned and moved back on the bed, pulling a nightgown that certainly did not belong to her loosely over her shoulders. When she was covered enough to not put on a show, Cassandra chuckled and addressed the still closed door.

"Come in."

A young woman entered the room, one of the latest additions to the kitchen staff as per Cynthia's request, with a tray expertly balanced in one hand, while the other held the leash of one of the thankfully well behaved hounds.

"Eris!" Nicole greeted the black dog, who snapped its big brown eyes in her direction and started wagging its tail. Thankfully for the girl holding the leash, the dog was expertly trained and did not lunge away to its owners. Instead it followed along, not tugging on the leash until both were just by the bed.

"Breakfast, my ladies."

A small assortment of drinks, together with a plate were placed from the silver tray to the small table on Cassandra's side. One wine glass was filled with fresh crimson blood, a cup of hot tea was sitting right beside it, steam rising up from the liquid inside and, in the smaller cup, dark coffee. On the plate, a freshly baked croissant and a small assortment of berries were waiting invitingly.

"And Eris, as you requested."

The girl held up the leash, but Cassandra simply waved a dismissive hand. "Just let her go. And leave the leash on my desk."

She did as was instructed, unhooking the leash with a soft metal click and placing it, coiled up neatly, on the carefully polished wood of the desk. Then, with a slight bow, she left the two alone once again.

Nicole didn't acknowledge that, too busy patting the spot by her side for the black hound to jump up. Cassandra opened her mouth to protest, but was a second too late as the dog was already in her wife's lap getting head and neck scratches. She sighed. At least all the hounds were kept squeaky clean outside hunting sessions.

"Stop spoiling our hunting dogs."

"Oh darling don't worry, I have no power over Carolina's training," she emphasized by snapping a finger and pointing it to the far side or the bed, direction that the dog followed dutifully, curling up on top of a folded blanket. "Good girl," she cooed at the furry beast, which elicited a tail wag.

Cassandra shook her head with a small smile tugging at her lips. She passed the small coffee cup to her wife, who took a tentative sip to test the temperature. It was lukewarm, as it always was, the routine of all the family ingrained into each and every staff member to the dot. They knew how Nicole liked her coffee, what tea to pair with any kind of breakfast and, probably most important for their sake, exactly how much blood, down to the milliliter, Cassandra liked to drink in the morning. Well, early evening, but who kept track.

The bitter liquid was downed in mere seconds, the taste accompanied by a sour grimace. Nicole did not like coffee in the slightest, having lost any possible appetite for the bitter taste after drinking one too many, or a thousand too many, cups during her days in med school. Unfortunately, it still did its job of waking her up, so a compromise with a sweet cup of fruity tea right afterwards had to be made.

She passed the empty cup back to Cassandra, who replaced it with the tea.

"I have to say, seeing your face scrunched up in disgust every morning is most entertaining."

"Happy to see my attempt at waking up is enjoyable for you," she replied with a pointed look thrown over the porcelain edge of the mug.

The look however was replaced by a content sigh upon sipping on the tea, the prior bitter taste slowly replaced by a blissful blend of fruit and lavender. While their cook Cynthia was downright an expert at preparing all kinds of meat, human included, her biggest talent was creating the best blends of tea, never too overpowering but always with a balanced taste. At least according to Nicole, and she would hold that opinion to the day she died.

While waiting for the liquid to get to a more drinkable temperature, her attention went back to the dog now sprawled on its side. "Why did you ask for Eris?"

Cassandra took another long sip of her drink, far more elegant than one would expect from a woman who had no issue regularly walking around covered in blood. "I just thought we could bring her along, I know she's your favorite," she finished with a smirk.

"That's not true," Nicole quickly replied, as if she were a mother accused of having a favorite child, which only made Cassandra's grin grow wider. She cleared her throat in an attempt to save some face. "I love all our dogs equally, Eris is just… particularly well behaved, yes."

Her wife simply chuckled, not having bought any of her excuses for playing favorites. Not that Cassandra wasn't guilty of that either. Her first response to picking a favorite would be not unlike Nicole's, but she had a particular fondness for Freya, one of their Finnish hounds, who always seemed so eager to sniff out prey on the hunts. She would be lying to say that she didn't entertain the idea of asking her mother to infect some of their best dogs from time to time, their short lives feeling like blinks of an eye compared to her own immortality.

She placed the now empty glass back on the table, not quite as graceful as her mother always did after a meal. They had plenty of time, so getting up was not yet in either of their schedules.

"Are we going somewhere in particular, or just out for a stretch," Nicole asked in between sips.

"Bela has to pick something up and Dani, surprising to precisely no one, wants to visit the bookshop," Cassandra started with a slight eye roll, leaning on her side on top of the cushions and starting to toy with the hem of Nicole's sleeve. "Since we're doing none of that boring stuff, I thought you'd like to choose."

Nicole tapped a finger of the white rim of her mug, nail making a soft clink. She sighed. "Just a walk around town, I'm really dying to get out too."

"You do realize you're not confined to the castle during winter like I am right," Cassandra laughed.

"And leave my beloved wife all alone while I go out and about," her reply was overly dramatic, complete with a hand gingerly placed over her heart almost as if such an idea was close to blasphemous. It only gained her a small snort.

"Should I remind you that I've spent decades in this castle? I promise I can bear it."

Okay, grandma.

With the tea finally gone, Nicole placed the tall mug on the nightstand closest to her, effectively freeing her hands. Free to trace tender fingers up Cassandra's arm, her neck and around the intricate lace of her choker to toy with the fine chains decorating it.

"You sure about that?" Her voice was sickly sweet, all too aware of her unbeatable talent of making someone as sadistic as her wife melt with little more than a hushed tone and gentle hands.

Cassandra did not respond right away. She was nothing if not a prideful person and admitting to the fact that yes, she would miss her, even for a handful of hours, was not particularly high on her list of things to be said out loud. It was almost an unbearably clingy kind, their relationship. Or at least that's what someone who did not know better would say. Truth be told, they were both the kind of people that looked almost desperately, although a desperation worn with odd grace, for comfort in other people. People they would then fight tooth and nail, or more accurately fang and claw, to keep close. It was obvious in the way Cassandra took on the role as protector of the family, nevermind the fact that Alcina would cut any possible threats to pieces before any of them had time to lift a finger. Obvious, also in the way she was so protective over Nicole herself, the beautifully engraved dagger always strapped to the redhead’s side either under a lab coat or at the belt of a dress rendered little more than a fancy accessory.

Cassandra chuckled, wrapping long fingers around her hand and taking it away from her necklace. "Why don't we get dressed before Bela comes to nag at us mm?" Then black lips were gingerly pressed to the skin, leaving a small kiss on top of bony knuckles.

With a shrug and a less than gracious stretch accompanied by a yawn, Nicole got out from under the covers, the red velvety fabric of the robe flowing after her like an impromptu cape.

"Are you wearing my robe," Cassandra's voice came from behind her, together with hands placed on her waist.

Duh.

Not that Cassandra ever truly complained. Finding the oversized clothing her wife often wore quite endearing.

"It does look quite charming on me you have to admit."

"You're practically swimming in it."

Nicole rolled her eyes which only prompted a small laugh.

They fixed themselves enough to be semi presentable for the small distance that separated the bedroom and the dressing room. Nicole was about to suggest wearing something more casual, but the fact that going out for the first time after the long winter months was almost reason for a small celebration for all three of the Dimitrescu sisters made her shut down that train of thought. No harm in being fancy on occasion after all.

The outfits Cassandra had picked out were nothing short of perfect for the occasion. Matching black dresses, Nicole's a tad lighter with a lacy collar and frilly hems complete with a white vest-like corset, while Cassandra's was made out of a thicker fabric and went down almost to the floor, surely due to her tendency to get cold easily.

Not being the kind that lingered in the dressing room too long, that was more Daniela's style, it took little for them to get dressed. The occasional helping hand for small things that one could maybe twist and turn to do themselves, but why bother when you have a perfectly willing to help spouse, was something they both enjoyed and took a couple extra precious moments to let a hand linger or fingers to trace expertly done sems. After some makeup was applied and the leash was hooked back to Eris' collar, they finally made their way downstairs.

They were close to fashionably late it seemed, as Bela, Daniela and Anita were already waiting in the main hall, the eldest throwing a miffed expression their way upon seeing them descend the grand staircase.

Nicole noticed the absence of one of their usual party members. "Isn't Laura coming with us?"

"She had to go to Donna's this morning. Spring preparations and all," Bela's reply came dangerously close to being accompanied by an uncharacteristic pout.

Oh. Someone's in a sour mood.

They made their way down the stone paved road that connected the castle to the town in relative silence, interrupted only once by Bela telling them when they would meet up to head back home. Other than that, they just enjoyed the short walk. And for good reason, the road was surrounded by beautiful rose bushes on both sides, with pine trees expanding beyond them and the sounds of birds and nocturnal animals beginning to wake up blending together in a quiet murmur so typical to the forest.

Once in the town square under the familiar angel statue, Bela wordlessly left them in favor of making her way down a small street. Daniela and Anita seemed more courteous and said their goodbyes and see-you-laters as they turned around, chattering about something only they understood.

Left alone, with their dog whose leash was attached to the same belt Cassandra's sickle was, they started walking down the quiet streets. It was almost sundown, so even the small crowd of people usually going about their business was almost non-existent, knowing better than to be out at night without good reason.

Something that Nicole was yet to grow bored of, even after a few years spent at the castle, was the small architectural oddities around town. It looked quite regular, albeit old, at first glance but a closer look would reveal the rich symbolism resulting from the centuries of being quite literally broken off from the rest of the world and almost frozen in time.

The go to flowers planted in front of buildings were crimson roses, the familiar patterns of swirling vines and leaves engraved into walls and lamp posts. A bakery they passed by had three sickles hanging behind the glass, complementing the harvest theme the entire shop had, together with dried wheat in vases and warm inviting colors on the walls. The one fishery that everyone in town knew had a mermaid gracefully swimming in a panel just above its entrance and horseshoes were nailed to most doors leading to houses or small apartment buildings. Even a toy store had a suspiciously Angie-like doll, although without the cracks and signs of time its original counterpart sported, looking out at any passersby.

One thing that could never go unnoticed however, were the crows. Statues of the birds, big or small, could be seen anywhere, from street corners to rooftops and atop building entrances. Some had their wings spread out, ready to take flight were they not trapped by stone bodies, others had their bills open wide in a silent croak and some were simply looking on. Real crows were also incredibly common, replacing the pigeons any other city had in favor of the black birds, ironically roosting on the statues of themselves quite often and kindly providing the city background noise with their caws. Nicole inquired about their presence once, and Cassandra had explained how the locals see crows as good luck, being a symbol to Mother Miranda. Many people fed them and even had buildings upon which small towers were erected with the purpose of giving the birds space to make nests.

Nicole had a strong suspicion that some of the birds were a little more than they let on, especially after seeing their so-called goddess break into a flock on multiple occasions. Sometimes, you would look at one of the crows perched on a power line connecting two buildings, and icy grey would stare back, the depth in those eyes far too human to belong to any bird.

Her slight glare towards one crow that seemed to look at them from a windowsill was interrupted by the memory of a small list she had tucked in her pocket before leaving.

"Oh, I need to pass by the pharmacy to pick up a few things we ran out of."

Cassandra simply shrugged. "Sure," and she looked around for a moment to find the street that would take them there fastest. Not like they had any plans other than enjoying the pseudo freedom that being out of the castle gave them.

The pharmacy was oh so conveniently located on the other side of town, adjacent to the hospital near the reservoir. Ever since Miranda had found ways to lessen the negative effects of his mutation, Moreau was the designated town doctor, but due to the still somewhat volatile transformations he was still mostly confined to the place and it's murky waters, a fact that he despised greatly. It was an obvious choice, then, to erect the hospital there. It was a small building not unlike the rest of the town's architecture when it came to size, no more than three floors high and with a small staff that Moreau himself had to teach the ins and outs of medical practice. If memory serves right, even Miranda and her assistants had taught some people particularly well versed in the sciences how to operate the equipment and patients alike. Medical training seemed to be hard to come by around here and Nicole had a gnawing suspicion that it was the reason she was still alive.

The building coming into view behind the trees and the paved road that cut through the small stretch of woods separating the town and reservoir looked oddly new in comparison to the rest, as it had been erected only a couple decades prior. Attached to it, a smaller house with matching tiles on the roof and a sign that read Farmacie above the entrance's double doors.

Dogs were normally not allowed inside, but who was going to stop them of all people from marching right in, black hound happily walking by their side. They were the only ones inside, save for a short woman sitting behind the counter, panic flashing in her eyes when her gaze fell on Cassandra's tall frame, hand in hand with Nicole who was at the moment too occupied with pulling out the list of meds she had written. She gave it a once over and, sure that she had everything down, passed the paper to the pharmacist, who knew better than to ask if she had any prescriptions.

"You could've sent someone to fetch these for you," Cassandra said, eyes following the woman as she disappeared behind tall shelves full of small boxes and pill bottles.

"I know, I just didn't want to wait. I don't like running out of supplies," Nicole shrugged.

Plus, Nicole was way less likely to be questioned on why she's buying twenty different kinds of meds than a random maid. Partly because the pharmacist recognized her and partly because any sane person here knew better than not obliging when Cassandra was looming behind her. A small smirk graced her lips at the thought and a sly look was given to her wife, who was too busy playing with the dog's floppy ears to notice. Eris raised her head at the unforgivable offense, playfully trying to nip at the gloved hands that were tickling her, getting a giggle out of the brunette.

All three were distracted by the soft clink of a bell hanging above the door, indicating that someone had entered the pharmacy. It was an older man, looking to be in his sixties, heavily leaning on a crutch held in his right hand.

Cassandra's features morphed into a scowl and Nicole could practically hear the man-thing going through her mind. The man was probably on the verge of doing a complete one eighty and exit the pharmacy, when a voice called out from behind the counter.

"Ah Andrei, I have something for that infection of yours, hold on a moment," the pharmacist called out, before handing Nicole a sizable paper bag full of what she had requested.

She felt an unwelcomed whiff of decay as Cassandra took the bag from her hands, and sniffled in an attempt to ward off the stinging sensation in her nose. She fumbled with the credit card, mentally cursing the payment for not transferring quicker when the smell was starting to make her eyes water the slightest bit.

"Is everything alright my lady?"

The man's voice, full of genuine worry came from behind them, having moved closer upon the pharmacist's urging, and the putrid stench of death and decomposition flooded Nicole's senses together with the slick sensation of blood running down her face. She had to force down a gag as she shoved the card back into a pocket and all but ran out the door, worried wife in toe.

"Nicole what-" Cassandra swallowed any words she had at the sight of the blood flowing down and staining the until moments before immaculate white of her wife's corset.

Nicole made her way to a corner of the building that nobody seemed to go to, and leaned against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and trying to ward off the lightheadedness.

For someone who spent years working on dead bodies in various stages of decomposition, one would think that the smell of death did not bother her. And it didn't. But this was different, the stench seeming to make its way into her skin and clinging to her senses, coating her throat as if trying to choke her out in the most disgusting way possible. Not to mention that there was no actual dead body around.

She coughed out the blood that didn't make its way out of her nostrils and instead decided to go the throat route. Her hands were a crimson mess and so were her face and dress, a pang of guilt shooting through her for having ruined the outfit picked by Cassandra. At least the bleeding seemed to stop and so did the horrid stench.

Cassandra didn't seem to care, nor even notice, the ruined fabric. Instead she pulled out a handkerchief from a pocket and started to gently wipe the blood away from pale skin.

"What's wrong?" She asked and Nicole could only shake her head.

"I don't know. I don't know why this keeps happening," she almost ran her hands down her face in frustration but had enough clarity of mind to remember how dirty they were. "I thought it would go away, and for a while it did. I don't understand what the hell is wrong with me," she added, voice rising the slightest bit.

Cassandra grimaced, trying to get her face clean. "We can talk to Mother when we get back."

A defeated sigh made its way past bloody lips. Nicole had her doubts that Alcina would know any more than them on the situation, which was nothing. They knew nothing.

She grabbed Cassandra's hand to steady herself back on her feet, mind drifting to what she didn't want to think was her only solution.

If there was anyone who could get to the end of this, it was Mother Miranda.

[mi6-cafe]

WEEK 2 DRABBLES ARE HERE!

Now, let’s refresh your memory.

For the second week of LDWS, our true l- our writers were asked to write a drabble between 150 and 200 words, based on the word deck from the point of view of an outsider.

THEY DID SUCH A GREAT JOB!

(this is a purely illustrative gif of an outside observer of the goings on at Q’s flat, not a prompt)

READ THE DRABBLES AND VOTE!

hOW?

Read the drabbles & Pick three favourites!

Vote for them on this form!

Add some feedback for the writers!

That’s it! You have done your civic duty and voted!

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Read the drabbles below the line.

#1

Title: Eulogy for the Aston Martin Author: Misha / artsytarts Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (mainly directed at vehicles) Summary: Around 007, life and death go hand in hand.

The moment I leave solid ground and fly, pointed directly at the deck of the ship, I know my life is forfeit.

I realize now why the other machines pitied me after I was assigned to the man they call 007. I see his blue eyes blazing as he concentrates, gripping my steering wheel. They say he’s careless, but judging from the few days I’ve carried him, I know different. He’s not careless. His destruction is calculated. Only once I was obsolete, once he depleted my ammunition, blew my doors off, and pushed my motor to breaking point did he make his decision: To use me as his missile.

I count the milliseconds as the deck rushes towards me. Without a word, 007 pushes the ejector button and I fling him out into the open air, out into safety and freedom.

I am to be his sacrifice.

Before I hit the ship to perish in a blaze, I decide: I have no use for resentment. Like so many machines before me, I have granted him life.

That must count for something.

#2

Title: All In Author: sorion Warnings: none Summary: Bond is handy with cards, and Felix likes to watch.

There are few things as satisfying as watching James Bond clean a table in poker. Felix has learned that pretty much the moment he's met Bond, and the entertainment value hasn't changed in the years that have passed.  

On the contrary: Felix has learned some of Bond's tells. Not the kind of tells that would let him win against the insufferably unbeatable agent, but Felix recognises the spark that lights up in Bond's eyes, only seconds before he wipes the confident smirk off an opponent's face with a winning hand.  

Another thing he can see is whether Bond enjoys the game for its own sake or just really hates one of the other players. He knows it's the latter when the opponent asks for a rematch and offers the deed to a hotel in lieu of liquid funds, and Bond agrees, provided that they use a new, unopened deck of cards.  

The opponent blanches near imperceptibly, and Felix smirks into his drink. Oh, yes. Very satisfying.

#3

Title: Voyeuristic Displeasure Author: sunaddicted Warnings: none Summary: seeing everything is not so fun

Bond's hands were big and rough, stronger than they had any right to be.

He had been observing them with varying degrees of interest over the years, stuck behind his computers or out in the field - air straining in his lungs with the knowledge that the other's life depended on how fast and how smart he could be.

He watched Bond strut along the deck, hand poised low on someone's lower back, head tilted down in a way that suggested he was focusing on whatever he was being told, seemingly enraptured in them - Bond played the part well but he knew what signs to look for, to spot the seams of the almost perfect façade: he darted glances around, favoring his right side, trying to keep under the eye of the cameras that he knew to be in friendly hands.

The hand slipped lower, fingers teasingly dipping beneath the edge of the brightly colored bathing suit his companion was wearing - shameless.

Almost teasing.

He stood up with a weary sigh, empty mug held aloft: he was going to need a strongly brewed cup of tea, if he had to watch Bond flirt his way into another bed.

#4

Title: International Man Of Mystery Author: Merc / moon_of_mercury Warnings: none Summary: Some players never make it to places like Casino Royale. Others... acquire nice cars on the way.

She has encountered many interesting characters in her career, some more remarkable than others. Poker tends to attract extraordinary people. It isn’t always easily definable: something about this man arrests her attention the moment he walks up to the table, asking to join the game even though she’s already cutting the deck. 

He flashes a cocky smile at everyone, reads his opponents like a professional, and pleads with her to let the unlucky Mr. Dimitrios bet his car to win his money back. She complies, amused. Such self-sufficient arrogance would be offending if not for his friendly politeness. The way he eyes the man’s wife is not mere casual interest either. Those intense ice-blue eyes have already seen every opportunity. His body language may seem relaxed, but there’s an awareness in his movements that hints at explosive potential underneath the calm surface. 

For an exhilarating moment, she revels in being a part of this man’s story. It’s as clear as day that he’s used to playing for much higher stakes. She wonders what the real prize here is.

Dimitrios has lost again even before this stranger shows his cards. Men like him bend luck to their will. 

#5

Title: Crossroads Author: Hexiva Warnings: None Summary: James Bond visits a fortune teller.

The man’s cold blue eyes look past Serenity as he steps into her fortune-telling tent, and she shivers. His aura is like ice, a vast glacier with life frozen deep down inside it. He reminds her of a mobster from some old movie, wealthy but brutal. 

“What do you want to learn?” she asks.

“The future,” he says, distractedly. She follows his eyes to a bearded man standing at the high striker, speaking in Russian. 

She shuffles her deck. “There are two paths before everyone,” she says. “This choice is yours.” She draws two. “First path - The Lovers, the Star. Companionship and connection bringing hope. Choose the Lovers' path, and you will find a new beginning. A second chance.”

“And the other?” he asks. His tone is flat and apathetic. He doesn't believe in hope.

She draws again.  “The Emperor, the Hermit, both reversed. Rigidity and repression bringing isolation and misery. Choose the Emperor's path and you will end up alone.”

But the man is looking past her at the Russian, and he stands. “Thanks." A wry little smile. "But I think I already know what path I’m on.”

She watches him go. In his shadow, she sees the Emperor.

#6

Title: Observation Deck Author: Anyawen Warnings: none Summary: Mallory and Tanner contemplate employee relations.

Mallory surveyed the scene before him, sipping his scotch and trying, fruitlessly, to tune out the horrid rendition of 'Deck the Halls' playing overhead.

"We should do something about that," Tanner said, coming to stand beside him.

"About what?"

"That," Tanner replied, gesturing in the direction of Bond and Q. "Them."

The Quartermaster, decked out in a horrible Christmas jumper, looked exasperated. Bond, naturally, looked smug. They appeared to have entirely forgotten the holiday party happening around them as they argued. Flirted. Whatever.

"Trying to stop that from happening would be an exercise in rearranging deckchairs on the Titanic," Mallory said with a bemused smile. "Utterly futile."

"I don't want to discourage them," Tanner protested as Q cracked an unwilling smile at something Bond said.

"What, then?"

"A little push? Mistletoe? Lock them in a closet?" Tanner suggested hopefully.

"That might be construed as stacking the deck in your favor," Mallory observed mildly.

"You know about the bet?" Tanner spluttered as Q stole Bond's champagne glass and drained it to Bond's mock outrage.

"Spy," Mallory explained succinctly.

Tanner nodded wry acknowledgement.

They continued their silent observations a few minutes more, then Tanner asked, "What day did you pick?"

"April first."

#7

Title: Nighttime Invasion Author: SouffleGirl91 Warnings: vague references to blood, swearing Summary: Q’s cat is not impressed by 3am visitors

Thunk.

A crumpled heap hit the floor. She hissed, tail bushy, ready to pounce on the intruder.

“Oof!”

Gunpowder Man was invading her space.

Again.

“Q?” Gunpowder Man whisper-shouted. He sounded different. “Are you awake?”

Something dark dripped from his nose.

She sniffed cautiously. He stank of copper and salt. Still, it was better than the strong, sour reek of last time.

A light came on in Father’s bedroom.

Gunpowder Man lifted himself up and wobbled to the sofa. Walking on two legs seemed harder for him than usual.

“Bond?” Father came traipsing up behind him, making the room light up. “What the fuck? It’s 3 in the bloody morning. You couldn’t wait?”

“What, you’re not happy to see me?” Gunpowder Man used the false-happy tone Father used when he tricked her into The Basket.

Another dark drip.

“Don’t be stupid,” Father tsked, petting Gunpowder Man softly on the shoulder. That should help; Father gave the best pets. “Why don’t I put the - Christ, Bond! What happened to your nose?”

“It’s not broken. She hit me when I told her I was staying.”

“I thought psychologists were meant to keep their cool,” Father sighed. “Come on, let’s clean you up.”

#8

Title: A confession of a deck Author: scarytheory Warnings: none Summary: James Bond would be lost without me.

I'd like to think that James and I are not just colleagues, but friends.

You know, we’ve been through a lot together. Cottages in forgotten lands, first-class casinos, important fights – I’d always been with him and helped him along the way.

But this game is different.

“That’s not fair, James,” the opponent says, watching his stack of cards.

“I’m not cheating, Q.”

The opponent snorts. “You may be the best player the MI6’s ever had, but even you can’t be THAT good, 007. Aces again? That’s not very subtle.”

“You were the one who said poker is just basic math and all about the art of reading people. So stop whinging and take off your shirt.”

Beg your pardon?

There is something disturbing in the air. I don’t think I want to give the good cards to James anymore. “Happy?”

The shirt falls to the floor.

“Immensely.”

The next round, Q loses his pants. I’m starting to think that this isn’t even about poker!

“I won.”

Finally, it’s over and I can relax again. Even though I’m not sure what this young lad can have that James Bond would be interested in… oh.

#9

Title: Camouflage Author: IrishWitch58 Warnings: None Summary: A certain agent and their partner are in the field. The local perspective.

Grace's eyes were drawn to her first customers on the deck overlooking the harbor. They were as unlike as could be but Grace would have known they were together with just a glance. The subtle leaning in, the eye contact, the briefest brush of a hand. Not honeymooners but the established kind of connection that took time and patience. The younger man was dark and slender and had a tan that was honey gold. The older one was broader and blond and that one sent tingles up her spine. Her brother and his military buddies were like that, poised and watchful. She didn't see a weapon but suspected he was armed. They'd arrived three days ago in a beautifully restored vintage sailboat, walking the less traveled portions of the island.

Passing Grace, Mimi muttered “Spies posing as tourists.”

Gracie scoffed at Mimi's imagination. What were they spying on here, conch recipes? Then a new boat dropped anchor. The blond saw it first and the dark haired one checked the tablet he always seemed to have before nodding and finishing his chowder.

The pretty sailboat pulled up anchor the next dawn and the new boat was found derelict two days later.

#10

Title: Missing Him Author: Nana-chan Warnings: Summary: Austen the cat watches as her human pines for the Blond One

From her perch on the living room sofa, Austen looks disapprovingly at her bespectacled human. He is out on the deck again, smoking and no doubt pining for the Blond One. He is a relatively new addition to the household and has been gone for several days now, as is his habit. Keats—that dummy—misses him, too, as he meows and gazes forlornly at the front door.

She herself is unsure of the Blond One, but she doesn’t like it when her human is all sad and distracted, reeking of cigarette smoke and unresponsive to feline overtures of comfort. She feels powerless to help him. How did one man become so essential to her human’s happiness?

Then a key turns, the door opens, and there he is. The Blond One dumps his bag in the foyer and heads straight for the deck, pausing only to give her a brief head scritch. She watches as he folds her human into his arms and starts grooming him in that strange way humans have, with their mouths fused.

She hears her human laugh, gladness and relief evident in his tones, and finally, she makes up her mind about the Blond One.

#11

Title: Origin of a Voyeur Author: stormofsharpthings Warnings: none Summary: There was a legitimate reason to start going through all the Q Branch security footage, dammit!

After the small accidental volcano destroyed lab 7b, no one could recall who’d last checked the fire suppression system. Exasperated, R pulled up the security videos in hopes of spotting someone. The recording of Q and 007 was entirely unrelated, but she just couldn’t look away.

Q had been helping Bond dress for some formal event, tuxedo carefully tailored to conceal the equipment Q was arranging around his body. The scene resembled a squire helping his knight, except...

R bit her lip at the way Q stroked his fingertips down the front of Bond’s suit to check the drape of the fabric, evading Bond’s hungry gaze with a sly little quirk to his mouth. Then Q leaned close, reaching around to run his hands over the back of the jacket, lingering a little over Bond’s well-proportioned backside before he sank to one knee and brushed along the sides of the trousers.

“There, all decked out,” Q murmured.

Bond reached down to cradle Q’s chin in his hand and Q looked up with a provocative lick of his lips, the heat almost visibly simmering between them. Bond took a deep breath, his fingers tightening, and Q ‘s eyes widened and then slid shut as he turned to brush his lips against Bond’s thumb. When Bond made a low rough sound, both Q and Rani swallowed at the same time.

Then the outer office door slammed and she hurriedly shut her computer down, blushing. But she saved a private copy first.

#12

Title: The Bet Author: Venstar Warnings: none Summary: Bets are made, there will be blood.

Oh, yes. It was going to happen. The tension was palpable in the room, yes he said palpable in his interior monologue. Just fucking get closer. Do it already. He was going to win that bet today by fuck. He leaned forward in anticipation, eyes locked on target. Yes. Yes….Keep going...almost….

*AH-OOH-GA!! AH-OOH-GAH!! AH-OOH-GAH!!*

Fuck, goddammit. Not again! He narrowed his eyes. There was no way another attack by water was happening. Dammit. Fake or not they were going to have to clear the god damned building. He sighed heavily as he turned sad eyes back to where 007 and Q had been quietly eyeing each other. They were gone. “What the fuck?” Where? There! The orange of Q’s cardigan turned a corner.  He was not about to lose the 'THEY FINALLY MADE OUT DAY' be! He ignored the rest of Q’branch’s leads as they ordered the evacuation.

“Davis?”

Fuck. It was R.

“And just where are you going? Exit is that way.”

He turned with hunched shoulders to find R smiling at him. Her eyes flitted past him to where Q and 007 had disappeared to. “THAT bet will only be won when it’s officially my day.”

#13

Title: Specs and the Lady Author: solarmorrigan Warnings: None. Summary: Louis has been a bartender for a long time, but occasionally patrons can still surprise him.

The Friday night crowd seethes around the bar in waves, laughing and calling out their orders. Louis has been a bartender a long time, which means he can keep up with the steady roll of vodka-tonic-scotch-and-soda-bottle-bottle-pint and still keep an eye on the floor for trouble.

Trouble like the man in specs and a loud jumper bumping into an over-drunk man in a worn football jersey, spilling both their drinks.

Specs’ mouth forms the word ‘sorry,’ but Jersey isn’t having it. He grabs Specs’ jumper, but before Louis can even call for Paul—their unofficial bouncer-bartender—a lady slides in between them, curly hair and cunning eyes, and pulls Jersey’s hand away.

Jersey shoves the lady, and viper-quick, she decks him. Jersey goes down.

Louis lets out a surprised laugh. The lady looks quite pleased. Specs looks exasperated, though Louis doesn’t know why; if he had someone like that in his corner, all squared shoulders and terrifying heels, he’d be delighted. Then again, from Specs’ half-laughing attempt at chastisement that carries in the surprised lull in noise (“Really, Eve?”), this isn’t the first time it’s happened.

“Just take Jersey out,” Louis bids as Paul moves in, “Specs and the lady are fine.”

#14

Title: Eyes on You Author: oldestcharm Warnings: n/a Summary: The Quartermaster is enjoying his afternoon and Bond is far too concerned about his garden.

She's good at her job. So good, in fact, that she's currently hidden from sight with her scope right on MI6's Quartermaster himself. He's sitting on the deck of his house, enjoying the sunny weather with a girly drink in one hand and a laptop resting on his thighs. He's typing furiously, paying no attention to his surroundings. All she has to do is take one shot.  

Then, the sprinklers turn on.  

She does her best to not make a sound even as her phone buzzes.

4:27 pm:

There are over twenty cameras on the property.

4:28 pm:

I suggest you get out of my hydrangea bush. James worked rather hard on the garden and he won't be pleased to find you there.

A click behind her — probably a gun. "You've ruined my garden."

She turns around and finds herself face to face with the legendary agent. She cringes. "I'm... very sorry?"

Bond does not look amused. "You're fixing this before you leave."

"You're not going to kill me?" she asks, heart pounding.

"Q wants you for his team." Bond sighs, looking more annoyed than anything. "Either you accept or I'll shoot you."

Well, it's not exactly a choice.

#15

Title: Over It Author: MrKsan / starrboned Warnings: Canon-Typical language Summary: Tanner is nervous.

Ferrying through the maze of the Thames tunnels was often a nerve-wracking job. More so when his passengers were nervous. More so when it was the Chief of Staff who was sitting across from him, restless, tap-tap-tapping on his cardboard box.

Tanner gave Jack an awkward smile as they docked, climbing the narrow ladder just as the Quartermaster stormed into view.

“I’m going to skin the twat alive, Bill!“ he hissed, making Tanner stumble to a stop. “Didn’t even try to cover his tracks.”

Jack grinned. Only one man could piss Q off that much.

Tanner sighed, resigned. “I’ll inform M-”

“Already did,” Q huffed.

"Oh?"

"Not risking my career for him again, Bill."

Jack dared a peek at the couple; the conversation was taking an unexpected turn.

Tanner blinked, once, twice, before seeming to come to a decision. He shoved the cardboard box at Q.

“Thought we could share breakfast, since our dinner last night was interrupted? Bad timing, of course- ”

"Bill,” Q said, and Jack saw the silver of a smirk. "I would love to."

Pulling a crumpled cigarette from under his heavy coat, Jack couldn't help but grin to himself.

MI6 and their drama.

Go vote!

[coolemmasulivan]

Sealed with an Accident [Part 2]

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2329

You can read part 1 here.

Author's note: English is not my first language. Should I continue this?

You looked in the mirror, taking a look at your outfit. Chris told you to wear something casual and comfortable, but you couldn't wear something too casual that made you look like you had just run to the grocery store.

You whore a pair of jeans, a black Nirvana t-shirt, and white sneakers. Your hair was down, and you choose not to use makeup. Just how you liked it.

You grabbed your phone and your purse and walked out of the bedroom. In the kitchen, you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sat down on the couch waiting for Chris.

On the coffee table, your phone vibrated. You grabbed it and saw a message from your friend.

Y/f/n: "How is the date going?"

You: "I'm still waiting for Chris. He texted me a while ago saying he was stuck in traffic."

You grabbed the Tv remote, but before you could turn it on, your phone started ringing. You looked at the screen and saw your friend's name. You put the remote down and picked up the phone.

"Hi."

"What are you wearing?" She asked, not even saying hello.

You scrunched your eyebrows. "Excuse me? Are you trying to seduce me? Because if you are, that tone is not going to do it."

You could almost sense her rolling her eyes on the other side of the phone. "I'm only asking this because I know you and because I want whatever is going on between you and Chris to work."

"What does that mean: you know me?"

You heard a soft giggle. "Love, please! You are this little innocent flower that thinks a guy is just being nice when he is trying to flirt with you. And everybody notices except you." You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. "What I'm trying to say is that you're terrible at romance and sometimes your clothes show exactly that."

"Well, obviously I'm not that bad, since I asked him out first and the date was so successful that he choose to ask me out for a second one." You said with confidence. "Wait, what's wrong with my clothes?"

"You were drunk when you asked him out." She said, ignoring your question.

"No, I wasn’t."

"You were a little tipsy."

"No I wasn— what does that matter?

Your friend let out a sigh. "Just tell me what you are wearing." You looked down and told her exactly what you were wearing. "Oh my god, that's worse than I thought."

Your mouth fell open in shock. You couldn't help but feel offended. "He told me to wear something casual."

"And you couldn't put on a casual and light dress or a skirt? Show a little of those amazing legs."

You run your hand through your jeans. "But I don't want to show my legs. We're having our second date. I want him to like me, without having to show my cleavage or my amazing legs." You said, a little harsh.

You were a simple woman. You were an actress, but that didn't mean you liked to dress up, or use makeup or show some skin. Your job required you to do all of that, but in your personal life you just wanted to feel comfortable.

"Okay, sorry. I know you don't need to dress up." You felt your body relax against the comfy pillows of the couch. "You're beautiful either way and I'm sure Chris feels the same."

I hope so. You thought.

You felt your phone vibrate against your ear. You pull it away and saw that Chris had texted you. "Y/f/n, I have to go. Chris just texted me."

"Okay, love. Good luck." You said your goodbye and opened Chris's message.

Chris: "I'm outside."

You felt your heart beating faster. You didn't know why you were getting nervous. This was your second date with him. It was not like you were going to be alone with him for the first time.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Well, I had fun today." You said when you and Chris stepped out of the restaurant through the back door since there were paparazzi in the front. Something you and Chris were, unfortunately, used to. "I didn't have this much fun in a long time. Thank you."

"I should be the one thanking. You were the one that asked me out and the one that planned the day." He escorted you to your car, your arms touching as you walked.

"But you were the fun part." You blurt out. With Chris, it was like you forget to think before talking. Something that you usually did.

"I'm happy to hear that." Chris smiled and blushed. "For someone that was pretty shy and embarrassed when we met, you're a quite entertained person too." You grinned at his words. You stopped when you got to your car and was about to thank him again when he interrupted you. “And maybe we can repeat." You looked at him surprised. You looked calm to him, but inside you were screaming in excitement. "Since you asked me out first, now it's my turn. Do you want to go out with me?"

Your smile couldn't be bigger. "I'll think about that." You teased him.

Chris laughed. "So it's going to be like that, okay." You took the car key from your purse and opened it. "You got my number. Drive safely." He turned around and started to walk away, but you quickly grabbed his arm.

Chris turned around with a smirk on his face and bit his lip. "Isn't it obvious? I would be a fool if I said no." Chris laughed at the exact same thing he said to you when you asked him out.

"So?" He said, repeating what you had said.

"I would love to go on a date with you."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You grabbed your purse and locked the door. When you opened the gate, Chris was leaning against his black car. He looked up when he heard the gate and smiled at you.

"Hi!" 

You closed the gate and gave him a big smile. "Hi."

You took your time to look at him. He was wearing black jeans, a plaid shirt - that you couldn't help but think that made him look even more attractive - and he was wearing a Nasa cap and his sunglasses.

"You ready for the best date you'll ever have?" He opened the passenger door to let you in.

"You sound confident."

"Because I know I'm right."

You got inside the car, and you slightly detected his cologne. He got on the driver's seat and smiled at you as you put on the seatbelt. He did the same and turned down the volume of the radio.

"Where are we going?" You asked him.

He took his eyes for a second from the road and looked at you. “It’s a surprise.”

You groned and let your head fall againt the seat. “I think I didn’t tell you but, I hate surprises.”

Chris laughed. “It doesn’t matter. This one you’re going to love.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because I already know you a bit.”

“This is just our second date.”

He looked you in the eyes and said: “And I hope it won't be the last.”

You blushed and broke eye contact. “Eyes on the road, Evans.” He giggled and continued driving.

During the trip, you two talked about each other's families, future jobs, and dogs, more precisely Chri’s dog, Dodger. You knew Dodger from Chri's Instagram, and like everybody, you fell in love with the puppy.

“When can I meet him?” You asked him, excited. 

Chris scrunched his eyebrows. “Tell me the truth: did you asked me out so you could have an opportunity to met Dodger?” He teased you.

“Oh damn, you figure that out!” You two laughed. 

You loved his laugh. He sounded so happy and relaxed. You looked at his hands over the wheel. They were big and the veins were visible. How can hands be so attractive? You thought.

He reached over and grabbed something from the backseat. When he pulled his hand back, he was holding a blindfold. "Put it on, please."

You looked at him, and you didn't know if you wanted to laugh or jump out of the car. "No way."

"Please?" He took his eyes from the road and looked briefly at you. "Just trust me." You let out a sign and grabbed the blindfold, putting it on, turning everything black. "We're almost there."

After that, the drive lasted for more than 15 minutes, with you constantly asking: "Are we there yet?", you sounded like the donkey from Shrek. When you felt the car slowing down, you could hear people talking and kids screaming. 

"Are you going to murder me?" You asked when you felt the car stop.

"Now, why would I do that? I like your company." You heard the sound of his seatbelt getting released and then yours. "So... on our first date, you said the paparazzi's and the fans, didn't stop you from doing what you like.”

"Yes." You hesitantly said, not really knowing where he was going. "Right."

You heard his door opening and soon he opened the door on your side. You got out with his help and he locked the car. You grabbed his arm and he led you away. "From our conversation, we learned that we have many things in common, and one of those things just happens to be close by." You were more confused than ever. "And a perfect location for a second date." 

You squeezed his arm. "Just tell me!" He laughed and released the knot from the blindfold, carefully not to pull your hair. When the light of the sun hit your eyes, you slowly opened them. When you saw where Chris had taken you, you covered your mouth in a mix of shock and surprise. "Oh my god. No way."

Chris smirked. "Oh yes. As you can see, I had my reasons to be so confident about this date."

In a state of pure joy and enthusiasm, you hugged him tightly, catching him by surprise. Chris blushed, but reacted quickly, hugging you back. He couldn't ignore the fact that your body felt so good against his. It was like a piece from a puzzle that fit perfectly. Your perfume made him close his eyes and for a minute he let his body relax in the embrace.

When you realized what you were doing, you broke the hug. You turned around so Chris couldn't see the blush on your cheeks and admired what was in front of you. "How did you know I wanted to come to Disneyland?

"Well, first you told me you loved Disney. Secondly, you said that since you come to LA you were always busy with work, and with the free time you got, you would go back to Chicago. And Third, who wouldn't want to come to Disneyland?"

You laughed and tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. "You know, people are going to see us together and assume things."

Chris nodded. "Does that bother you?"

You gave him a shy smile. "No. Not at all."

"Glad to hear that. Let's go?"

“Yes.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was after midnight when Chris stopped his car in front of your house. He looked at you and laughed at your figure. You were wearing a Minnie ear headband and an oversize Captain American T-Shirt that you bought to tease Chris. In the backseat, there was a bag with Chris's mickey ear headband that he had used and a Monsters, Inc. Dog Collar that you had bought for Dodger.

"You were right! This was the best date I ever had and, most likely, ever will."

Chris mumbled a yes under his breath, making you laugh. "That's good. Mission accomplished." Silence surrounded the car, but not for too long. "Is it too soon to ask for a third date?"

You looked at him surprised but very glad that he brought the subject. "No, I don't think that it's too soon. You have my number. Call me." You smiled and opened the car door, but before stepping out you ignored the nervousness and leaned over, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

Chris's eyes widened up in surprise. He looked down at you. His eyes darted between your eyes and your lips. You blushed and looked down, your hair falling in your face. He removed it, tucking it behind your ear. He gently cupped your right cheek, making you look up at him. His head started leaning closer to yours and you did the same. Your lips had just barely touched when his phone rang. You both jumped at the sound. You heard Chris curse under his breath, before taking the phone from his pocket. He grumbled when he said who it was. 

"What?" He said to the person on the other side of the line. You leaned back against the passenger seat and looked out the window. You closed your eyes for a second and bit your lip. When Chris finished his phone call, he let out a sigh, running his hand through his hair. "Sorry about that."

You smiled at him. "It's fine... Ahm, it's getting late. I should probably go inside. Thank you for the day."

"Hope the third date it's still on the table."

"Yes, please."

Chris smiled. "I'll call you."

You nodded and grabbed your purse. "Goodnight, Chris."

"Goodnight, Y/a."

[xmyshya]

Soft

summary: I am a firm believer that Atsumu CAN be soft. When he wants to. And now he just might. genre: fluff, crack, smut warnings: fem!reader, soft Atsumu, sexual tension, making love at the end, MINORS DNI special thanks: HQHQ and our lovely Atsumu sessions, you guys gave me so much inspiration for the last part. I love you. I love you all. a/n: I don’t want to say that I’m proud of this one, but I am. wc: 2.7k

Looking at the friend sitting across the table in the quiet corner of this adorable cafe, you can’t help but think how crazy it has been. Mostly because he’s an idiot, but you LOVE that idiot. “Y/N? Are ya even listenin’?” “Uhh… yes?” “What were ya thinkin’ ‘bout so hard anyway?” “Okay, uhm, remember when…”

The gym was huge and offered a lot of equipment, half of it having names you’d never heard before. The only problem? It was constantly crowded. Except for crazy early hours, which is why you were dressed in your tracksuit and drenched at 5 am. Yet, you were still not alone at this ungodly time. On the first day, he visibly hesitated before entering, clearly wanting absolutely no company. You couldn’t really blame him, he was probably followed by throngs of fans and paparazzi every day. The man must have deemed you harmless however, because he stayed. Well, at the other end of the enormous room, but stayed. He came back on the next day. And next one. And another, and soon enough you were nodding at each other in a silent greeting. This odd ritual continued on for a few weeks, until… “Hey, ya… come here often?” Fuckfuckfuck, he was still sporting the smug smile, though his eyes were filled with panic. You stared at him dumbfounded. Guess even celebrities struggle sometimes. “Uhh… I… N-no, this is my first time.” Both of you erupted in laughter. “Miya Atsumu, nice to meet ya.” “Oh yeah, I know.” He raised an eyebrow. “I mean… L/N Y/N, nice to meet you too”

“D’ya really gonna rub it in ma face til the end of ma life?” “Nah, I’m pretty sure I’ll forget when I’m old, so I gotta make use of it till I can.” The blonde doesn’t look happy. Amusing. “So what were you talking about?” “Oh right, so there’s gonna be a party for the team and friends, and… uhh… would you like to… be my plus one?” Of course you would like to. Love to. “Lemme know what colours ya wanna wear.” “Ehh? You wanna match or something?” There is a teasing undertone in your question. He either misses it or ignores. “I’ve always wanted to do that…” But you already know. Black and gold, the colours of his team. Yes, obviously that’s the only reason. It’s completely unrelated to your current imaginations of Atsumu looking smoking hot in a black fitted suit, black shirt, and matte gold tie. Totally not.

You’re still adding final touch ups, when the doorbell rings through the air. “Open!” In response there’s a click of the door, opening and closing, and Atsumu announces his arrival with a sigh saying why aren’t ya ready yet. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” You shift from your bedroom to the hall, and he whistles. Sharply. You know you look good in that black dress, hugging tightly all your curves (extra points for a deep notch on the back and thin golden chains), and golden heels. And now, he knows it too. Just like you assumed, he does look great. So great, that the only image filling your head as your eyes run down and up on him is how much you want to rip that suit off of him. Party? You’d rather have a one-on-one party against the wall he’s leaning on. Or a kitchen counter. Or a sofa. Shower maybe? “Are ya checkin’ me out?” Again that smug look on his face. You really want to wipe it off. With your lips. “Must be your imagination.” You push him out of the apartment and lock the door.

One of the greatest mysteries of this world must be why elevator scenes are so… weird. Weirdly hot. You’re both on the opposite ends of the tiny cube, ogling each other and turning your gaze away. “Ya really look beautiful.” “Thank you.” Silence. “You look great too. Perfect ten.” You look him straight in the eyes, and if you have the timing right… “Very fuckable.” Ding and the door opens. You brush his chest while walking out. Atsumu forgets to leave the elevator.

Party hall is already swarming with people when you arrive. Faces from magazine covers flash here and there, some of them entertaining whoever wants to listen, some whispering mysterious promises in eager ears, some just roaming around in search of god knows what. “I’ll get us some drinks” is one of those promises, and Atsumu leaves your side. He’s quickly replaced by one of those roaming creatures. “You here alone?” He’s much too close to your liking. “Actually I-” “You’re beautiful. Absolutely stunning. I’m Shugo-” “Meian!” The voice of your companion startles you with its sudden proximity, but also brings comfort. As soon as the drink is passed in your hand, you feel his touch on the small of your back. “Oh, I didn’t know you two were-” “We’re not.” “We’re friends.” Both of your replies come immediately. Meian straightens up and smiles. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I went for her?” “Not like I have any right to stop ya.” Miya says calmly, but you can feel his whole body tense up against yours.

“Alright everyone, we’d like to make a toast…” Clinking of glasses interrupts your surprisingly pleasant conversation with the MSBY captain, but soon enough he’s back to flooding you with questions. Atsumu walks away to join his other teammates. “Please excuse me.” You don’t even look at the male next to you, focused only on catching up with the blond friend. His questioning gaze burns a hole at the side of your head. “I came here with you.” “Is that the only reason?” Your eyes meet and you give him a lopsided grin. “Nah, you’re much hotter.” He stands a little taller, visibly more confident, fuller of himself. His hand finds its way to your hip and he pulls you a little closer.

Next two hours are spent on the dance floor, countless people already pulling you back before you even step outside of the designated area. You’re currently trapped in the arms of none other than Bokuto Koutarou, and you could swear you were swayed by the sheer force of his alone. But you don’t mind, his energy of a nuclear reactor and megawatt smile fully compensate for any inconveniences. The song comes to an end however, and you quickly follow him back to the table. “Ya don’t wanna dance anymore?” Atsumu asks when you settle in your chair, looking for something to replenish your energy. “Why?” “Ya looked so happy on the dance floor. And yet, yer sittin’ here now.” “Were you watching me this closely?” His ears fire up like Christmas lights. “I do.” “Huh?” “I do wanna dance.” For a moment you’re both just staring at each other in silence. Then you notice gears turning slowly in his head, and, at the moment of realisation, a light bulb. “May I please have this dance?” He holds a hand out, and you place yours in it. Atsumu leads you towards the swaying crowd, and then pulls you close. So close, that your bodies could merge. “And the next one too.” He purrs in your ear.

Miya’s breath on your skin is hot and distracting. Does he feel you shiver every time he exhales on your neck? He must, you conclude, since his palm is resting on your bare back. “Ya smell so good…” The whisper caresses your ear, his lips so close, yet so far. “Mmm… you too.” And those lips curl up.

It’s not just this dance. And not just the next one either. Many dances later and you’re still glued to his body, surrounded by a muscular arm, and one hand still in his. The other one playing mindlessly with his undercut. “Looks like Meian found someone to take home t’night.” “Hmm? Did you?” You pull a strand of his hair and lightly scratch his nape. “Do that again and I might get dangerous.” “Maybe I like doing dangerous things?” There’s a movement near your thigh, and you both hope those words carry a promise.

It’s well into the night and people start leaving, but it seems like the blonde is still not ready to let you out of his embrace. You lean your head on his shoulder, forehead right under his jaw, and let him rock you gently to the slow music. With eyes closed, breathing in his scent, it feels almost as if you two were the only people here. “Are ya tired?” You only purr in response. “Lessgo home then. Wanna stay at mine?” “Oya?” “I-i-it’s… not whatcha think… A won’t… won’t touch ya.” “But if you won’t, then what’s the point?” He freezes, agape, and you wonder how the hell someone so hot can become so flustered. “But seriously, I don’t have a change of clothes” which is a lie, because you do have spare panties in your tiny purse “or cosmetics, or-” “I’ll give ya somethin’ to sleep in.”

The door behind you closes with a quiet click. God, it feels so good to finally, finally take these heels off. You put your purse on a drawer right next to the door, and proceed to take your earrings off, placing them neatly in a tiny pouch. “Tsumu? Could you help me with the necklace?” He doesn’t say anything, instead coming behind you and trying to unclasp the piece of jewelry. Trying, because his hands shake. You take a sneak peek at him through the mirror, at his focused face and slightly poked tongue. He’s so adorable. In the meantime you reach to your hair and start removing the pins, but soon your hands are pulled away and replaced with his. It’s surprising but endearing how gentle this giant man can be. You close your eyes and just enjoy the moment, as your strands tickle your nape one by one. And then something hot and wet tickles your neck, right below your ear. Oh. Oh. “A… ‘m sorry, a didn’t mean to…” Nononono, come back here. You grab his tie and pull him down to a kiss, a searing clash of lips, slowly beginning to move against one another. One of his hands caresses your back, right under the edge of your dress, the other one pulls your hair gently making you gasp. His tongue slides along your lips painfully slowly, and you chase it with yours until the tips meet. The feeling is electrifying, sending shivers through your whole body.

Undressing Miya Atsumu is similar to unwrapping a Christmas present you’ve been waiting for for months. Button after button, you reveal more and more of his heavenly sculpted chest and stomach, your lips following the hands. He loves it, the feeling of your wet muscle soothing the bites drives him crazy, little purrs he lets out make his chest vibrate. It’s almost unbearable. He decides he can’t take it anymore when you hook your fingers under his pants and start unzipping them, grazing his cock. He pulls you close, sliding your dress off of you, and letting it pool at your feet. And then drags you to the bathroom, where he rids both of you of your underwear. The man enters the shower, extending his hand to you, and you grab it by instinct, before being pulled right under the stream of steamy water. “‘Tsumu, I’m gonna look like a panda!” “Eh? But pandas are cute tho?” “I’d rather look hot right now” He laughs boyishly, almost innocently, as he pumps some of his face wash and rubs it gently all over your features. His calloused fingertips massage your forehead and temples, while thumbs work on your chin and nose. It fills you with millions of bubbles, cotton candy surrounding your heart as fluffy as the foam. “‘Tsumu?” “Mmm?” “Kiss me.” And he does. At first it’s slow and sweet, but as your hands wash away the evening from the skin, there’s more hunger, more passion. Atsumu pulls and lifts you, throwing you over his shoulder as he walks out of the bathroom. “‘Tsumuuuu! The towels! We’re NOT sleeping in a wet bed!” “Who said anything about sleepin’, princess?”

Idiot.

Bonus scene: “Good morning sunshine.”

He whispers against your forehead after your lashes tickle his neck. His palms embrace your cheeks, and his lips on yours are as soft as summer rain. Pecks become open mouthed kisses, invitations and promises of summer heat. Breaths and sighs remind you of a seaside breeze, carrying the freshness of waves and hotness of sand. Your hands are roaming in search of a buried treasure, but no matter how much they find, it’s not enough. It’s never enough. His mouth ghost over the shells of your ears, spilling words smooth and shiny like pearls, while fingers trail new paths under the veil of your shirt. They discover new lands, gliding along the skin, making it bloom in tiny goosebumps wherever they touch. Kisses and licks flow at the surface of your neck, sealing and sucking over sensitive spots, painting them in pinks, reds, and purples. Big palms cover the hills of your breasts, thumbs sweep over the nipples so gently, that you’re not even sure if you imagined it.

Your naked body shivers underneath his, and arches into his warm embrace, as his lips press silent praises into your skin. You open your eyes, and you don’t know which is brighter - the sunshine pouring through the windows, or the sunshine of his hair. You can touch his hair though. So you do, and the soft rivers of gold cascade and tickle in between your fingers. Atsumu raises his gaze and smiles against your skin, lighting up your heart.

Reaching your heat, he pulls the strings of your pleasure with each kiss, each flick of his tongue, and you sing the ballad he composes. In this concert you’re the star, you’re the diva, and he’s merely there to worship you, to accompany your voice, to encourage and appreciate. He’s guiding you through the quiet breathy parts, not much louder than a whisper. He’s caressing the keys, adding more passion, more force, more depth, eliciting notes reaching higher, pushing you through a crescendo, rapidly, lovingly, until you’re nothing but an effusion of pleads and cries of his name.

“Atsumu, come back to me.” You breathe out.

And he’s walking the path again, kissing the ground he steps on, coming back to where he belongs, where he wants to belong. Your eyes meet when he glides into you, slowly, carefully, as if any sharp movement would shatter you and this moment. Atsumu nibbles at your lips and you let him in, let his tongue dance with yours, as your fingers intertwine.

One more push joins your hips, and you both let out a breathy sigh. He pulls back and rolls back in, making sure you feel all the veins, until his tip kisses your cervix. And again. And once more.

“Ah… Tsumu…” And he knows he’s lost.

“God, yer so beautiful.”

You’re sinking in his eyes like molten chocolate, and the whole world ceases to exist. There’s only you and him, and the flame spilling from where you’re joined, overtaking your bodies, minds, and senses. It’s too much, it wells up in your eyes and overspills, and he’s quick to brush it away. A kiss is placed on your temple and travels down your cheek and onto your neck. With a free hand you rub mindless patterns on his back, scrape at his nape, while his roams down along your skin, adorning all the curves.

You moan into his shoulder at the sudden touch. He only grazes your clit and you’re fluttering, pulling him deeper inside of you. The movement is slow, as slow as the roll of his hips, as the drag of his tongue on your throat. But it spreads like a wildfire, floods your mind in waves until everything is drowned in a white haze and explodes in a million stars.

“Come with me”

And he does. He paints his own milky way inside of you, releasing galaxies upon galaxies until he pours everything he has, until he’s empty and you’re full. He does, because he would follow you anywhere.

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

drive you crazy

summary: there’s absolutely no way you and Matt have feelings for each other, right?

warnings: mentions of past drinking 

word count: 5.1k

note from the writer: my love for sam and rasmus really jumped out in this one, huh. let me know what you think!

Matthew Tkachuk was a constant presence in your life no matter how much you wished he wasn’t. He was loud, cocky, and it absolutely did not help that he knew just exactly how attractive he was.

Not that you found him attractive, of course.

When your roommate and closest friend, Jen, started dating Matt’s teammate Sam Bennett, you were introduced to a whole roster of boys. They were all nice enough, and you quickly developed close friendships with a few. Except, well—

“Matt’s here, and I need you to entertain him.”

“No, absolutely not.” You put your foot down, not caring how much you sounded like a child. Jen pouted, slipping fully into your room and shutting the door. It did little to block out the sound of two raucous hockey players laughing at something in your living room.

“This is the third time this week Matt has crashed our date night and I really need you to just get him out of my hair.” Jen pleaded, sitting on the edge of your bed. You were under the covers, the next episode of your favorite show queued up on your laptop. The last thing you needed was to have Matthew ruin your evening.

“Can’t you just tell him to leave?” You argued, pointing out the obvious while ignoring the blatant fact that Matthew was stubborn and would never be convinced to do something if he truly didn’t want to.

“He won’t listen to us, you need to tell him.” You couldn’t hide the roll of your eyes at her words.

“And what makes you think he’ll listen to me?” If you had known what Jen’s response would be before you asked the question, you would have kept your mouth shut. Instead, you watched in confusion as a grin grew across her face, the one that you knew meant nothing but trouble.

“Because he’s like, in love with you.”

And that was truly something funny, because it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You laughed loudly, knowing there was absolutely no way that he liked you, let alone loved. Your dynamic with the curly-haired forward was defined by constant bickering and backhanded comments—not loving glances and hidden feelings.

“I’m serious! He’ll do anything you say.” Jen added, sensing your disbelief. This was far from the first time she had alluded to Matt’s so-called feelings for you, but she never had been so direct.

“Yeah, right.” You snorted. Jen didn’t say anything at first, and instead shot you a challenging look and stood from the edge of your bed. Her smug look never once waverd as she opened your bedroom door, and without looking away from you called out to the boys in your living room.

“Matt! Can you go with Y/N to the grocery store?” You rolled your eyes at her question. You didn’t need to go to the grocery store, it was just a rouse so she and Sam could have some alone time. Why they couldn’t just go to his place, you weren’t sure, but you were torn out of your thoughts when Matt’s response came soon after.

“Yeah, does she need a babysitter?” His voice was light and it was clear that he was teasing, but you found yourself pouting. Jen grinned, gesturing wordlessly to you as if she was declaring victory in the situation. You hadn’t considered it a competition, but if it was, you figured she was far from winning.

“That doesn’t prove anything.” You huffed, shutting your laptop. As much as you didn’t want to go, you knew from the moment Jen asked you that you would. She was your best friend, and if spending some time with Matthew meant she got some alone time with her boyfriend she already struggled to see as a result of hectic schedules, you would put up with the menace.

“Mhm.” Jen hummed, clearly not believing a word you said. Before either of you could say anything else, your door was pushed the rest of the way open and Matt was standing in your doorway, his typical smug grin on his face.

“It’s nine o’clock and you’re already in pajamas?” He teased upon spotting the sleepshorts and oversized t-shirt you had put on. Making your way to the closet, you briefly acknowledged Jen shooting you one last look before slipping out.

“Not all of us need to stay out every night.” You shot back, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt to wear as a defense against the Calgary cold. Tossing the clothes on your bed, you turned to see Matt still standing in your doorway. “Can you leave so I can get changed?”

“Are you sure you want me to leave?” Cocky smirk on full display, it took everything in you not to throw something at him.

“Matthew.” You warned with a glare leveled at him. He raised his hands as if he was claiming innocence, and you rolled your eyes at his response.

“Kidding.” He chuckled lowly, before finally leaving the room. You sighed once the door was shut, running your hands down your face to try and rid yourself of the image of Matt grinning handsomely.

It’s Matthew, you reminded yourself. The same Matthew that took joy in critiquing every guy you mentioned you were interested in with a harshness you had only seen in his eyes on the ice. Not that you paid much attention to him while he was on the ice. The point was, you should not be letting Jen’s words get to you.

Matt didn’t like you, he liked annoying you.

Hurrying to get changed, you met Matt waiting for you in the hallway outside your bedroom. He had been mindlessly scrolling through his phone, but upon hearing your door open and shut, he shoved the device into his pocket and looked to you with a grin so wide he rivalled the Cheshire Cat.

“Ready?” You questioned, hoping to avoid finding out what exactly was making him so smug and keep things civil. You weren’t sure exactly how long you were supposed to entertain Matt, but you’d rather spend as little time with him bickering as possible.

“Nice sweatshirt.” He commented, and you had to look down and see which one you grabbed. It was an old Flames one that didn’t even technically belong to you. You weren’t sure why Matt was so smug about seeing you supporting his team, since you’d been to your fair share of games.

“Thanks, Rasmus gave it to me when I spent the night at his a few weeks ago after we all went drinking.” You explained absentmindedly. While you spoke, you began heading towards the front door, so you missed the way Matt’s expression fell. You did see Jen’s smug grin, and watched Sam shoot Matt a look you didn’t have time to decipher. “See you guys later.” You waved with one hand while the other reached up to grab your car keys. Before you could get them off the hook, though, Matt’s hand shot forward and snatched them up.

“I’m driving.” He grinned. A dozen and one protests came to mind, but you chose to simply roll your eyes and head out the door. You heard Jen shout something along the lines of ‘use protection’ before she was shut out by the door, and you opted to ignore her teasing. You glanced at Matt out of the corner of your eye, and to your surprise you noticed a faint blush on his cheeks.

You scrolled through your phone as you waited for the elevator, trying to ignore the fact that your perfect evening plans of a night in were ruined by Matt. Well, Matt and Jen. The elevator arrived and only once you were both inside and the doors were shut, did Matt clear his throat to get your attention.

“So what do you need at the store?” He sounded genuinely curious, and you couldn’t help but snort at his question. The sound drew a smile out of him, and you briefly wondered why your heart fluttered as it did. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t need anything, Jen just wanted me to get you out of the apartment so you’ll stop third-wheeling her and Sam.” You explained with a lightness to your voice that usually wasn’t present when you were with Matt. He let out a loud laugh just as the elevator doors opened, and you followed him out.

“Well, I’m not going to hang out at a grocery store if you don’t need anything.” He explained as he led the way out of your building and towards where your car was always parked. You watched in curiosity as he moved to the passenger side of your car, and your brows tugged together in confusion as Matt opened your door for you.

“What are you doing?” You asked skeptically. You were certain there was going to be some joke in there somewhere, but you couldn’t find it and he didn’t seem like sharing it.

“Being a gentlemen?” He replied with just as much confusion as you. You tried to hide the way your lips quirked up in a grin, but he noticed and repeated the action himself.

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that.” You quipped as you climbed into the passenger seat. Matt didn’t take your comment too seriously, and instead you heard him chuckle as he gently shut your door. In the time it took for him to go around the car and get in on the driver’s side, you thought about why he was being so nice.

Maybe Jen did have a point.

No, he was Matt and you were you. You weren’t exactly friends, so you definitely weren’t anything more. But the way he was acting was definitely something more. Your heart started to race and you wanted to kick yourself, but you couldn’t exactly do anything about it as the driver’s side door opened and Matt slipped in.

“So, where are we going then?” You asked, hoping the mundane question would help calm your sudden and completely new nerves. Except, the universe was apparently not on your side, because in response Matt shot you a wide grin and you felt a circus of butterflies flutter inside you that had never been there before.

“It’s a surprise.” He told you, backing out of your parking spot. You busied yourself with plugging the aux cord into your phone and picking music, giving yourself time to compose yourself.

“I don’t like surprises, Matthew.” You replied, hoping that now since the silence in the car was filled by music, it wouldn’t be so awkward.

“You can call me Matt, you know.” He told you, casting a glance towards you with an unreadable expression in his eye before focusing back on the road. Your brows tugged together in confusion at his words, and he must have seen the look on your face because he elaborated before you had the chance to voice anything. “You always call me Matthew, but you can call me Matt.”

“Okay, well, Matt,” you emphazied, drawing a laugh out of him. “I don’t like surprises.”

“I’ll give you a hint. It’s someplace we’ve both been together.” And while you still were confused about where he was taking you, it certainly narrowed the list down. There wasn’t a lot of places you had been with Matt, considering that you and him were little more than people who bickered often and happened to share close mutual friends. There wasn’t even a title for the type of relationship you and Matt had.

“You’re not taking me to a bar, are you? It’s a Tuesday, Matt.” You groaned, jumping to conclusions about where he was taking you. If you were hanging out with him outside your apartment, it usually meant everyone was going out drinking. And since your apartment was currently off limits, you assumed he was taking you to the usual bar he and the boys always picked.

“It’s not a bar.” He chuckled brightly at your response. You couldn’t help it, you found your self smiling softly at him as he focused on the road. Calgary’s night lights lit up his face and you distantly wondered if that was the reason he had been driving you crazy all night—a different type of crazy than he usually made you. You knew you were in danger when the corners of his lips turned up in the smug way they typically did, but it was too late. “You’re staring.”

“Am not.” You defended childishly. At this point, you were just trying to save face. He chuckled at this, turning his attention fully to you. It was then that you realized that at some point, Matt had pulled into a parking spot and you hadn’t even noticed.

“You’ve been staring.” He teased, smug look on his face that you couldn’t argue because no matter how much it pained you to admit, he was right. Instead, you opted to roll your eyes and look at where Matt had taken you.

“Frank and Mary’s?” You questioned, unrestrained glee in your voice as your head whipped from the diner to Matt. Frank and Mary’s was a hole in the wall diner that you frequented while either drunk or hungover, and one time you had dragged not only Sam and Jen there one night, but Matt and a litany of others. It was your favorite, and you remember telling the others that countless times.

“I figured we could get milkshakes and fries and not tell my trainer about it.” You laughed at this, a real and genuine laugh and Matt’s grin turned into a real and genuine smile. “Good idea, right?”

“You were bound to have one eventually.” You teased, though there was no trace of malice in your words. Matt smiled at you for a moment longer, his gaze softening and you felt his studying his face. You coudn’t get mad at him for it, you had been caught staring at him only moments earlier, but it was more than that. You didn’t want to get mad at him for it.

“Let’s go inside, yeah?” He cleared his throat, looking anywhere but you. A frown etched by confusion found home on your features as you tried to understand his change in behavior. Nonetheless, you got out of your car after him, smiling politely as he held the diner door open for you.

You picked a booth to sit in, and Matt didn’t complain as he sat opposite you. The time before the waitress arrived was spent silently shedding coats and avoiding the other’s eye. You smiled politely as the waitress set two menus on the table and got her notepad out to write down orders.

“What can I get you guys?” She asked sweetly, looking between you and Matt. You opened your mouth to order, but he beat you to it.

“Two chocolate milkshakes and an order of fries, please.” He said, handing her the menus back. You nodded, affirming that was your order before she slipped away to start making them. You raised a brow at Matt, a wordless question of why he knew your order. “You may have mentioned they’re your favorite once or twice the night you dragged us here.”

“They’re really good.” You defended meekly, having a hard time forming a thought that wasn’t why would he remember that and other things about him that weren’t useful at the moment. Matt chuckled, and for a moment it was quiet again. You smiled softly at him, and he readily returned it, but something flashed in his eyes as his gaze fell to the sweatshirt you were currently wrapped up in.

“So, you and Rasmus, huh?” He tried to sound nonchalant, but you heard an edge in his tone. Your brows scrunched together in confusion as you tried to understand the meaning of his words, and when it clicked, your eyes widened.

“There is no me and Rasmus. We’re just friends.” You assured him, unsure of why you felt a need to make it clear to him that you weren’t seeing one of his teammates, or anyone, for that matter. He was Matthew, the guy that drove you crazy and annoyed you with his constant teasing comments. The guy that was always at your apartment, third wheeling Jen and Sam until they either kicked him out or he found his way to your room to bother you.

The guy you wouldn’t mind kissing every once in while.

“You sure about that?” Matt questioned with a ghost of his usual smug grin, dragging you out of your earth-shattering thoughts. You wanted to kiss Matthew. You wanted to kiss Matthew. You. Matthew. You and Matthew.

Well, that was a problem.

“Yes, I’m sure, you dick.” You teased, hoping your words didn’t reflect that you were freaking out. That you weren’t going crazy about the idea that maybe all your so-called annoyance at him was just some ploy to cover up your feelings for him, a ploy so clever that not even you knew about it. “Guys don’t like me like that.”

“Well, that’s not true.” Matt interrupted your mental panic, because you absolutely had not meant to voice that to him. It was a subtle confession about how he didn’t like you like that, Rasmus and any other guy being the furthest thing from your mind.

“What?” You questioned rapidly, hoping that maybe he was making a not-quite confession like you had. That maybe he liked you and he wasn’t just trying to be nice.

“Hm?” He hummed, as if he hadn’t said anything and suddenly all your hopes came crashing down around you. Both of you were saved from having to come up with something to say, because just then the waitress returned.

“So, is this date night?” She made small talk as she set the first milkshake in front of you. You weren’t sure who was flushed more, you or Matt, but either way you were rushing to shake your head while he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Nope.” Matt’s smile was tight as his gaze met yours in a moment that felt charged with something you couldn’t place. “We’re just friends.”

You had two weeks to figure out why the statement made your stomach twist the way it did. Two weeks before you saw Matt again.

“Matt’s coming tonight.”

“Okay.” You told Jen, not looking up from your phone as you scrolled through it on the couch. You didn’t have to look up to see the confused look she gave you, and when you saw her out of the corner of your eye stand before you with her hands on her hips, you sighed and looked up.

“Okay? What do you mean okay? You’re never okay when Matt’s here.” She questioned, and you couldn’t help the grin that made it’s way onto your face at the way she was so perplexed by you being nice to Matt.

“Aren’t you the one that wants me to be friends with him?” You teased, locking your phone and dropping the device into your lap. An expesperated look crossed Jen’s face, and you felt as if you were being scolded by a parent.

“No, I want you to be more than friends with him. And I need that to happen tonight because I have a bet with Sam and—” She started explaining, and you sat up as she piqued your curiosity with her last few words.

“What? You have a bet on Matt and I?” You asked, waving hand around to cut off her rambling.

“Yes, because it’s so obvious that you two belong together!” She didn’t even pretend to be ashamed by her actions, and you couldn’t find it in you to be mad at her. After all, you did have a similar bet going on when she and Sam first started seeing eachother—but that was different. Sam clearly liked her, while Matt was just another of your friends.

“You’re ridiculous.” You told her flatly, leaning back against the couch once more. She scoffed at this, reminding you once more that somehow you ended up in a position to be scolded by her like you were a child.

“And you’re blushing.”

“Am not!” If you weren’t before, you definitely were then, and you wanted nothing more than to have the ground open up and swallow you whole. So what if the idea, however unlikely, of Matt liking you made you flushed. You were only human, after all.

“Mhm, keep denying it.” She hummed, clearly amused by the whole situation. You shook your head, grabbing your phone and standing from the couch. You began your retreat to your room, Jen hot on your heels.

“I don’t have a thing for Matt, he drives me crazy.” You told her, a little white lie. Because he did drive you crazy, but no longer in the ‘he’s so annoying, I want him leave’ way, but in a ‘he’s so annoying, I want him’ way.

“That’s because you—” She called after you, grin evident in her tone despite not even looking at her.

“Don’t finish that.” You warned, sitting on the edge of your bed. Your suspicions had been correct, Jen was grin smugly ear to ear and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“I’m just saying!” She defended herself, as if she was innocent in the situation. You shot her a pointed look, but decided to not comment further.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to be in my room, I’m not up for hanging out tonight.” You sighed. It wasn’t a lie, you weren’t in the mood to be around everyone after a tiresome day at work and an exhausting two weeks dealing with your unrequited feelings for Matt. Jen pouted, but knew when to back off. She sent you a pitiful smile and told you to have fun, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. With one last look, she slipped out of your room and shut your door behind her.

As soon as she was gone, you changed into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, a considerable upgrade from the uncomfortable work clothes you had previously been wearing. Crawling into bed, you opened your laptop and put on your favorite show. It didn’t take long for your mind to wander, especially when you heard the boys and Jen laughing at something in the living room. From what you could tell, it was more than just Matt and Sam, recognizing the voices of Johnny, Sean, and Rasmus before a knock at your bedroom door startled you.

“Come in.” You called, only half surprised to see Matt stick his head in the door. He grinned at you, and you waited for the comment about you being antisocial and curled up in bed, but it never came.

“Why aren’t you out with everyone?” He asked, sounding genuinely curious. He stepped into the room fully, and you feared he could hear your heart pounding as he shut the door behind him.

“I don’t feel like it tonight.” You explained with a shrug. “Why aren’t you?”

“I wanted to see you.” He explained as if it was that simple. As if your mind currently wasn’t racing a thousand miles a minute to try and decipher what that meant. He sat on the edge of your bed, body turned towards you. You noticed a faint blush on his cheeks, and you briefly wondered if you looked just as flustered. “I’m kinda waiting for you to tell me to leave.”

“Would you even listen if I told you that?” You grinned, watching with a warm feeling in your chest as his smile widened and he chuckled.

“Is that an invitation to stay?” He hummed before kicking off his shoes and standing. And, well, you didn’t exactly say no as he pulled back the edge of your comforter and climbed in beside you. Before you really knew it, you were curled into Matt’s chest with his arm around you as he sat up against your headboard, laptop playing a show you truly couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to anymore.

Your head was tucked under his chin with a hand resting on his chest. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, but also the rapid beating of his heart. You tried not to think that maybe you were making him nervous, because that would just lead to you getting your hopes up. Instead, you focused on the way his fingers were trailing absentmindedly up and down your arm, the other resting innocently on the crook of your knee that he had hitched across his lap shortly after laying down.

It was another two episodes before the silence was broken between you and Matt for something more than him making a comment about the characters or how he was completely lost on the plot. Two of the characters in the show were confessing their love for each other, and as soon as the scene started, you felt Matt’s already rapidly beating heart increase in pace. Deciding you throw caution to the wind, you called his name softly. He only hummed in response, eyes glued to the screen, so you paused the show and called his name again. This time, you earned his full attention, brows drawn together in confusion in such an adorable way you felt your confidence slipping away.

Now or never, you thought.

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” You asked, and then immediately wanted to kick yourself. It wasn’t the question you wanted to ask, but it was better than nothing, you supposed. You weren’t expecting Matt you laugh, though, and hold you just a little bit tighter to avoid having to answer. Your hand settled back over his heart to prove to yourself it really was beating abnormally fast, and when he wouldn’t meet your gaze, you called his name again. “Matty.”

And if you thought that his heart was beating quickly before, after the simple nickname fell past your lips, you thought he’d explode.

“It’s ‘cause of you.” He mumbled, your own heart picking up in pace. He was suddenly being shy, and you were certain you had never seen Matthew Tkachuk shy, at all, ever.

“What?” You asked for clarification, not wanting to get ahead of yourself. All signs were pointing towards what you hoped for, but you needed to be certain.

“You drive me crazy.” He confessed, his blue eyes finally meeting yours head on. You propped yourself up on your elbow so your face was level with him, and even though he was right beside you with an arm around you, you felt miles away as you tried to process what he said.

“Matthew…” You said softly after a moment, knowing that you needed to say something. He must have interpreted your lack of response as something bad, because the hopeful look on his face fell and he began backtracking.

“I know that I annoy you and that you don’t like me, but I had to tell you. I can go—” He started, and when he grabbed the covers as if to climb out of your bed you snapped to reality, grabbing his hand and effectively halting his movements.

“Matthew.” You stated, a lot more firmer than you had moments before. A grin grew on your face, and you saw his shoulders visibly relax. “Shut up for a moment, please?” A smile toyed with the corners of his lips and he nodded, but otherwise he complied. “You do annoy me.”

A puzzled look crossed his face—that clearly wasn’t what he thought you’d say.

“You’re annoying and yet, somehow, that’s endearing. We bicker and tease each other but at the end of the day I don’t actually hate you. And I don’t think I could ever actually hate you.” Your confession was quiet, and as you finished you used your free hand to cup his jaw. He leaned into your touch slightly, the simple act nearly melting you entirely. “You drive me crazy, too, Matthew.”

It was almost as if he couldn’t stop himself then, surging forward to connect your lips in a kiss you hadn’t realized you had been waiting months for. He was much more gentler than you thought he would be, but as the kiss went on he had you pressed into the mattress. When he finally pulled away so you both could catch your breath, he was hovering over you, bracing himself with his arms so not to lay his full weight on you.

“A good crazy, I hope.” Matt teased, grin wide and happy before he ducked down for another kiss. You giggled against his lips, revelling in the way you felt ten times lighter after confessing your feelings. Knowing that how you felt was reciprocated washed away any worries you had, and the smile you wore was truly genuine.

“A very good crazy.” You affirmed, looking at him with adoration. You brushed your hand through his curls that you wished he would grow out and take better care of, your hand settling on the back of his neck to gently guide him down for another kiss. You were so lost in Matthew that you didn’t hear your door open.

“I called it!” Jen announced loudly, causing Matt to roll off of you in shock. You glared at your roommate while the rest of the boys groaned, muttering complaints about how Jen won the bet or how Matt should have just waited a few days.

“Jen!” You threatened while flustered. Matt dropped his head back against your pillows, clearly annoyed at his teammates for interrupting while you were just embarrassed. It wasn’t a big deal, you knew, but it wasn’t exactly enjoyable having your roommate walk in on you making out with someone. Especially the someone she had been trying to get you to go out with for what seemed like forever.

“We’re leaving. You two have fun.” Sam winked at Matt, and when Matt shot you a look, you frowned and swatted at his shoulder. He laughed at your response, letting you know he had been just teasing.

“Use protection!” Jen shouted her favorite line as Sam pulled her out of the room and Johnny shut the door with a smug grin you weren’t used to seeing from him. You groaned as soon as your friends left, flopping back against your pillows and earning a chuckle from Matt.

“I change my mind.” You huffed, grabbing Matt’s hand and toying with his fingers to distract yourself from your friend’s interruption. He shot you a curious look, and your heart raced at the thought that he was finally yours. “They drive me crazy.”

“As long as I’m the only one that gets to kiss you.” He mumbled, having already leant down to connect your lips together. You hummed against him, fingers curling into his hair as he pulled back slightly to admire you.

“That, you are.”

[moonyblackwerewolf]

Betrothed Ch. 1 - Sirius Black

Sirius Black x fem!Reader

Word count: 2.653

Summary: Sirius and Y/N meet at a family dinner and have some fun, later she finds out she is betrothed to some pureblood boy so Sirius comes up with a mental idea to save them both. 

warnings: Kissing, hints of sex, 'aggressive' parents, underage drinking, idk my writing and English? lol

a/n: so this is just an idea for a possible series!! i never published anything before so i’m kind of scared but i really hope you like it!! :) xxx

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch. 2.5 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch. 5 

(not my gif)

Diner party

The Royal Manor of Watson was a cold palace, stone walls, rich decorations, sumptuous, but intimidating. The Watsons were cold people, living in a house too big for five people, but Y/N thought it was only fitting, since her parent’s ego was as big as the manor itself. Their pureblood mania deep in their minds, untouchable, which made their daughter’s life miserable. They were the perfect family on the outside but rotten in the inside, three children, Diana, two years older than Y/N, beautiful, smart and most importantly just as purist as their parents and William, tall, handsome, sophisticate and serious, he was the older sibling, three years older than Diana, he was already working with their father on the Ministry of Magic, daddy’s favourite. Home was big, impressive, a dream home if you saw it, libraries, uncountable bedrooms and living rooms, ball rooms, huge gardens, and everything you could ask for but it was far from being a welcoming home.

Though, all of her miserableness went away once she first went to Hogwarts. Of course, being sorted in Slytherin and having good grades was minimal when it came to living up to her parents’s expectations, which were high and if not complied there would most certainly have severe consequences, but still Hogwarts was more of a Home than the Watson Manor ever was. 

Throughout the years, Hogwarts had become her first true home. There she felt the warm winds, the familiar feeling in the great halls, friendships, all she ever hoped for was there, a home, but not quite yet. She met Elizabeth Greengrass a blonde, tall thin girl with deep grey eyes and enviable beauty, Katherine Abbott who looked almost like Diana, but shorter, longer darker hair, blue-green eyes and thiner face. The three girls became best friends right after being sorted into Slytherin. Later on her second year she met Elijah Lestrange, through her sister, he was a year older, handsome and had a polite appearance. Y/N loved her friends but they shared the same blind beliefs her parents do, she’d always nod when they talked about mudblood, choosing not to create conflict, she couldn’t help but feel a little out of place, her parents couldn't disagree more, controlling they way they were, they were more than satisfied to know that their daughter’s inner circle contained only close family friends’s children.

The Marauders were quite famous for their pranks since first year, Y/N always admired their courage and wit, but her siblings and friends didn’t share the same opinion. When she was around them she’d always get a look from her sister, her brother or her friends would push her away, which only made them more interesting. Although, with time, she stopped trying and just kept living her life the way her family wanted her to.

Until summer break before 5th year, at least. 

By then Sirius had already gained his bad boy reputation. Y/N had known Black for a long time, only by sight, his family was friends with hers and his cousin, Narcissa, hangs out with her sister, she’d see him in the pureblood elite parties they were forced to attend, they’d exchange glances but never talked. Sirius was once again being forced to go to some snobby party from snobby people. He couldn’t count in a thousand hands how many other places he’d rather be, but there he was sitting in a huge room full of people he despised, until a certain girl he recognised from other dinner parties and Hogwarts caught his attention, she was Remus’ partner in DADA, though he wasn’t sure, he never paid much attention in classes, pranking the student body was much more entertaining.

She caught his eye from a couch across the room. She was stunning, he thought, her slightly wavy H/C hair matching her S/C skin, freckled rosy cheeks and her alluring E/C eyes. Sirius only hoping she was different from the other brainwashed people in that house.

“Hey” Sirius said softly while he approached the girl that was, apparently, just as bored as he was, to his luck. “Not your scene, love?” He asked with his signature smirk on his face, wanting some good company for once at these afternoons.

“Not really” she chuckled, not knowing exactly what else to say, they weren’t close and she was a bit shy. But she was being honest, these parties were hell, full of families who thought too much of themselves, she didn't feel much like them, but she could fit in she was quiet and not nearly as loud as Sirius was about her beliefs. No one knew. 

“By any chance would you know whose death palace are we on? I mean it’s huge but it looks like Salazar himself lived here, it gives me the creeps” he paused laughing “and my house it’s not a Hufflepuff common room or anything” Sirius said mockingly, not knowing exactly who he was talking with.

“Well” she chuckled awkwardly “It is my parents’, but i know, it’s not very homey, looks like a dark theatre or something and Salazar did live here, family heirloom” she laughed for real this time, she didn’t take it as an offence, if anything she couldn’t agree more.

“How come we never crossed each others path before?” Sirius asked wondering why they never talked on one of those parties or at school.

“I guess I usually just stay in the corners, like today” she chuckled.

The two of them bonded after talking for a while, they discovered that both of them hated these things, Sirius couldn't get how she managed to hide her feelings so well, she looked so much like them. After laughing, talking about school, Sirius was a part of the infamous marauders, telling stories and joking around, for the first time any of them could think of, they had fun in a family party, since Sirius’ friends weren’t pureblood except for Potter but his family had been banished from the sacred twenty-eight for being “blood traitors” and Y/N’s friends’ parents kept them at their side the whole time for “good image”. 

Y/N stole a bottle of fire whiskey from the cellar and started showing the house to Sirius, while the two of them drank more than their bodies could handle, who was just as pleased as her for making fun of the paintings and carpets and the fancy but useless stuff their families valued so much. As they entered a room, particularly big and empty, Sirius had to catch his breath, Y/N and him started running through the halls before entering the room they were now on. He had only now realised that he had grabbed her hand, and apparently she hadn’t noticed until now too, making her blush furiously, releasing each other’s hand quickly and Sirius teased.

“getting comfy are we?” He smirked, as she blushed at his comment. They were very close, he could feel her breath catching. “Where would we be now, love?” He asked inching closer to her.

The both teenagers weren’t thinking straight anymore, the alcohol in their system already influencing their emotions. All they could think about, was how their touch felt electrical and the magnetic pull they were feeling towards each other, wondering how would their lips feel like. They just wanted to have fun, not caring about consequences that moment.

“Ball room” she said innocently but still a bit teasingly, not backing away from him as he inched closer to her “East wing, third floor, far away from where the party is going on, on the first floor” she bit her lip “But still very close to a room-” she said boldly wanting to see his reaction to her suggestions “-two doors away near a window at the end of the hall next to a beautiful painting of my favourite flowers” she said voice husky and breathy, making Sirius groan.

He chuckled low, “And may I ask you whose room is that?” They were now so close that their lips were slightly brushing.

“Why don’t you take me there and see for yourself” she said feeling a flip on her stomach and with a swift motion he lift her up bridal style, making her shiver at the contact, but then laughed, his hand gripping her body and legs tightly as he followed her instructions to get to her room. Once there, he settled her down on her bed and admired the girl in front of him, lust in his eyes. She smiled and bit her lip, she knew Sirius’ reputation, only one night stands, he was a ladies man, but she didn’t care, she wanted him, the fact that her mother would murder her if she ever found out only made it all more exciting.

Sirius took a look at the room, it wasn’t dark as the rest of the house was, it was still sophisticated, but nicer, the detailed wood on the wall was white and, above, the wall it self was light lilac, the room had big windows covered by delicate curtains and even had a balcony, and everything matched between the lilac and whites tones, she had a few paintings and pictures, and flowers, probably fake but still beautiful, the same flowers as on the darker painting outside, her four poster bed that matched the couches by the windows had delicate semi transparent white curtains and her silk white sheets were under a soft lilac blanket, she had a lot of silk pillows with subtle embroidered details on the corners, it was certainly appealing he thought, a beautiful room fit for a princess. Then he was brought back to reality.

“Do you think our parents are wondering where we are?” He asked with a still semi amazed look, it made her laugh, she patted the sheets next to her, inviting him to sit, he sat closely to her and then suddenly she went to the middle of the bed, which was big, pushing his wrists and they sat there, her legs crossed.

“They probably are” she affirmed giggly, she hadn't let his wrists go yet, she was holding it gently. “But, they won’t find us here, even though it’s pretty obvious that i’d hide in my room. Mom and dad wouldn’t leave the party” She paused and laughed “And well your parents certainly won’t come up here to my room i guess” He chuckled at her commentary.

“Well, well, miss perfect pureblood daughter escaping a dinner-party with the rebel Black son, who’d have thought” Sirius said dramatically, she laughed at him.

“Guess this Black here is just a bad influence on me, or… I just put on a good facade” she said more serious this time, voice low, eyes fixated on his. Her hand tracing their way up his arm, his gaze fixed on her movements. “And the fact that if mommy finds out i brought a guy to my room, and that he’s in my bed with me, would make her go crazy, only turns me on” Sirius let a little breathy moan escape his throat.

When Sirius looked at her she was already looking at him, lust all over her eyes. He trailed off just a little and asked, voice low “Y/N… are you sure you want this?” She nodded so he grabbed her waist and pulled her to his lap, he was holding her waist, lips brushing, he finally kissed her, the kiss felt electrical, it was slow and passionate at first but then I grew more heated. One of her hands was wrapped in his neck, the other was holding his chest going slowly lower, he was pulling her impossibly closer, the both couldn't get enough of each other. They had to pause for catching a breath, in the mean time Sirius leant over pushing Y/N down onto bed earning a tiny moan form her. They started kissing again, but this time was less passionate, more lustful and heated, Sirius started fiddling with her dress’ zipper and took it off slowly, undressing her, tracing kisses in each piece of newly exposed skin until she was only in her underwear, She, then, pushed his blazer off then started unbuttoning his shirt while kissing and sucking his neck making him moan. Once they were both in their underwear Sirius looked at her searching for a final consent, when she nodded, he took the rest of their clothes off.

“What do you want princess?” He asked kissing his way down from her cheek, to her jaw, neck, breasts and she moaned a little louder, the nickname turned her on even more. “Hmm??” He groaned waiting for her answer. “I want to her you say it”

“I… want you” she said between moans, after that she pulled his boxers down kissing him desperately, waiting to feel him against her in the most intimate way possible, the feeling was ethereal.

——————————

They laid in her bed legs tangled under the silk sheets, her head laid in his chest, his hands caressing her back while the other wrapped around her waist pulling her closer, making her shiver, the both of them catching their breaths while he stroke figure eights on her back inhaling her delicate floral floral scent. It felt heavenly to be there by his side, neither of them wanting to let go of one another, enjoying every moment before reality came back to them, but they knew they’ve been gone for too long, the party was probably ending.

“Sirius” she said voice as low as a whisper “This was nice” he smiled at her and pulled her to a kiss.

“Yes, it’s nice to have some fun in these events, and you love, are the most fun I could've had today” he said trailing his hand on her lower back “I mean, this is certainly the best place my parents could’ve dragged me to”. It made her chuckle. He never thought he’d fuck a girl his mother would approve and in one of their elite parties, but here he was, proof that Sirius Black always managed to corrupt girls, anywhere.

“Glad you liked it then” she said chuckling while she buried her head in his neck. But they couldn’t go on with this any longer. “You should go first” she said “Your parents are probably looking for you and it would be suspicious if we showed up together” she advised “Since the fact that we’re both missing from the party is already very much suspicious” she said laughing this time.

“Sure, love” he helped her get dressed before dressing himself and gave one last peck on her lips before getting out of bed. “See you” with a wink and that signature smile of his, he left, leaving her there with her thoughts about the events of this evening and the captivating boy, while rubbing her hands lightly where he left love bites on her neck, knowing she’d have trouble walking tomorrow and a bad headache from all the drinking. She decided it was best if she took a shower, changed into her pyjamas and if her parents show up there, she’d say she wasn't feeling well and wanted to sleep.

On his way back Sirius kept thinking about Y/N and how much they’re alike, she was the only nice person he met in one of those parties, she was a good kisser too. Starting to get confused on why he was thinking so much about the girl and the strange feeling she caused on him, but then assumed it was because of all the drinking, he didn't realise his mother, father and brother were waiting for him in the foyer and their faces weren’t kind, he knew it’d be a long night back home. But he didn’t care his only thoughts were about going back to Hogwarts and seeing her again.

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

Regrets | Yamaguchi Tadashi/Reader

Characters: Reader, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei. Mentioned: Hinata Shoyo, Kageyama Tobio, Oikawa Tooru, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tendou Satori

Pairings: Tsukishima Kei/Reader, Yamaguchi Tadashi/Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentioned emotional abuse, swearing (lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 2560

Summary: After the downfall of your relationship with Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi stays behind to pick up the pieces.

A/N: Look, I know I haven't posted in a while, and this isn't the ONE THING I NEED TO POST. But that will be done soon. I was having issues with google docs, and anxiety, and AAAAAAH but! we will be back to our regularly scheduled nonsense soon hehe. Anyway, have some pain. Also! Big thank you to @pies-writes-and-more for briefly Beta-Reading and then I went off on one hehe. Sowwy

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There are a few things you know, for certain, in this world: love is a fickle thing, pizza is the most comforting food, and Yamaguchi Tadashi had done few things wrong in his life.

And yet here you sit, with your back pressed against your bedroom door and knees pulled close to your chest, tears stinging your cheeks with such aggression you briefly fear they might be acid. He’s on the other side of the door, probably in a similar position, mumbling his most sincere apologies for your current heart ache.

But why?

You ask yourself this so often when it comes to him. Why is he always the first to apologise? Why is he apologising to begin with? This wasn’t his issue. It didn’t matter what you said, he would still apologise, because that’s just how Yamaguchi Tadashi was.

Sure, he had his behind-your-back snarky remarks and that mischievous giggle you’d hear when he was around. But on the inside, oh so deep inside, he was just as weak and as vulnerable as you were.

You knew it wasn’t his fault, yet you couldn’t stop the words flowing from your lips.

I wish I’d never met you.

You don’t mean it. Not really. Well, it was more like you wished he’d never introduced you to him. According to him, he’d wanted you to be his little secret for just a little while longer. So he could protect you for just some more time. But as fickle as love is, so was that.

You can still remember, clear as day, the night you’d met Yamaguchi.

He was walking outside your family restaurant with two other first year boys. Just outside of the front was yet another ever so loud “conversation” between Aoba Johsai’s pretty boy - Oikawa Tooru - and Shiratorizawa’s powerhouse - Ushijima Wakatoshi. The resident redhead who’d often stop by your restaurant with soft apologies and sorrowful gaze - Tendou Satori - was cringing behind Ushijima. If it hadn't been for the surprise visit of Yamaguchi and his first year friends, you might never have gotten rid of the pair that night.

They didn’t say much, but the tall first year with the black hair seemed to piss off Oikawa enough to make him leave. And - for whatever reason - Ushijima was either intimidated or annoyed by the smaller first year with vibrant orange hair.

As Tendou apologised, you locked eyes with Yamaguchi. To say the rest was history would be the easy thing to say. But you weren’t too good at doing things easily.

It was too often you’d see this particular green haired boy appear in your restaurant, looking a little intimidated, but elated nonetheless.

You’d entertain him with small conversation about your life and about his. For whatever reason, time seemed to pass by so easily when he was around. The two of you clicked well, sharing these weekly dinners together like they were your most solid form of comfort.

Until one day, Yamaguchi brought a friend. Brought him.

Tsukishima Kei was the perfect example of everything you shouldn’t love, but that only makes you love him harder. He’s cocky, arrogant enough to be tolerable - unlike Oikawa - a bit more difficult to talk to. A lot of work. It really was a shame you liked things that were challenges.

Because Yamaguchi was easy. Maybe that’s what drew you more to his tall friend.

All smirks and side glances, snide remarks about your food or the restaurant itself. You almost wanted to kick him out right then and there. But you had a soft spot for Yamaguchi, so you let the boys stay.

That would be your first mistake.

Your second was something so seemingly innocent, yet it would be your complete and utter downfall in the end. Your second would be falling for Tsukishima Kei. Hard and fast, with no mercy or care in the world. No time to think about your feelings when your thoughts were filled with him.

Tsukishima Kei was everything that Yamaguchi wasn’t. He was hard to have conversations with, harsh on his wise remarks about you, and time with him went by in a second. You had no chance to reflect on the things you’d said or the way his tone of voice shifted between words; it was over just as quickly as it started.

At first, you took it as a good sign.

You thought that it meant you enjoyed his company so much that it would be over so quick. Even when you tried to think of it as the most boring thing you’d ever done, it didn’t work. Not when he turned and looked at you with that smirk. Not when you blinked and he was grabbing his things to go.

Of course, you didn’t even take a second to think that maybe the reason time went so fast was because he was leaving so much earlier than Yamaguchi would. But as you continued to work, you didn’t think about it. Especially not when your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met.

"It's all my fault." Yamaguchi leaned his head back against the door a little too hard, the noise making you wince.

"It isn't." You said, because it wasn’t his fault. Well, it wasn’t all his fault. Even a blind man could see that. You aren’t even sure how you manage to keep your voice so strong, but you know that it won’t happen again.

“It is.” And this time, you didn't stop his explanation. “When I found out he liked you, I knew he wasn’t going to be good for you. But I saw how your eyes lit up around him, and you’d been talking about him for two years so… I didn’t stop him. I didn’t tell him you deserved more than this. More than what he could give you.” He paused, probably running his hand through his hair. “And then you’d talk about the things he’d do like they were normal, like you were laughing. Like you were begging me to make you stop it.” And he was right. Because you were. Because you hoped he’d see the signs and make you turn around. You probably wouldn’t have listened though. “I’m not going to say I could have treated you better because that isn’t for me to decide. But I will say that I wish I’d never introduced you to him.” He shuffled behind the door, probably getting up to leave. “You know, Y/N, you deserved so much more than that. You are worthy of more than that.” He assured you, and you could only laugh - it really didn’t feel like that right now.

As he left you alone, you wanted to scream more for him to come back, but you knew it was for the best. Yamaguchi was his friend first. You were barely an afterthought in the grand-scheme of things.

Every night you lay awake, panic sewn into your skin that he’d show up, begging you for forgiveness, begging you to take him back, and you lived with the fear that you would do exactly that.

Why?

Because you hated the thought of him being hurt. Hated the idea that, even after everything he’d done to you, you still couldn’t put yourself first.

And, after all this time, there was only one person you could call when things got bad.

Yamaguchi had gotten pretty good at putting on a brave face around Tsukishima when the other first years he’d shared his high school experience were around, but when the pair were left alone, he didn’t have a good thing to say to the blond.

“You really stopped clinging to Tsukishima,” Hinata said in passing one day, almost making the green haired boy hurl. Because if only they knew why. If only they’d seen what he’d seen. If only they’d heard your cries when everything happened.

Instead of answering directly, Yamaguchi just shrugged and laughed lightly, closing his eyes for fear they’d betray him with his true emotions. “Just thought I should start living for myself. You know, you can’t rely on someone forever.” When he opened them again, Tsukishima was looking the other way, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Come on, Tadashi.” Tsukishima called out to him; it was one of those days they’d all planned to be here together, but life happens, and it left Tsukishima with a very pissed off Yamaguchi. “God, you need to stop being such a pussy. Who even cares about her anyway?” Tsukishima asked him, his tone of voice making it very clear that he hated this topic.

It stopped Yamaguchi in his tracks. Because he cared about you. He was there for you. He saw the aftermath, the way you almost refused to tell him what had happened with a serious tone; he saw the light in your eyes shatter and break, and the confident girl he’d known was gone.

You were gone because of the man behind him right now. He clenched his fists, trying to calm the increase of his heartbeat. Trying to resist the urge to punch him in the face. Trying to find the words that would make this boy understand what he’d done.

“Just because you never cared, doesn’t mean other people didn’t.” Yamaguchi spat, walking away from Tsukishima.

He would come to you every time you called him, late at night, early in the morning. Whenever. Wherever. It didn’t matter. Not when you curled up in your bed with your head pressed into his chest, tears staining his shirt and assuring him it would be another long night.

He’d do anything you’d ask, if he were being honest, but you never asked him more than that. For him to stay the night and hold you was all you ever needed, and he thought you were brave for being able to admit just that.

Slowly, you were getting better.

And then you called one evening, crying so hard, voice so filled with panic that he practically ran to your dorm- no, he did run. His legs were burning, his lungs squeezing closed with every sharp exhale. But he was here.

And so was Tsukishima.

The blond was knocking on your door, cheeks tear-stained in the most pathetic way as he begged you to let him inside. Yamaguchi had never been more proud of you; in this moment, you were going against everything your body told you to do.

Yamaguchi acted on instinct, pushing Tsukishima away from your door, and he tumbled onto the ground, looking up at his friend who radiated rage. His blood was boiling, any pain throughout his body long forgotten because you needed him to protect you. To do what he should have done years ago.

“What are you doing here?” Tsukishima didn’t bother pulling himself up, not yet, not when every muscle in Yamaguchi’s arms flexed, threatening him just enough. But Yamaguchi actually hurt him? He actually needed to think about that; right now, it really looked like it.

“I was actually invited.” Yamaguchi hissed behind gritted teeth. Had his senses ever been so awake? He didn’t think so. Pure adrenaline rushed through his veins. “What are you doing here?”

It almost felt wrong to talk to Tsukishima this way - so wrong, yet so right - he didn’t understand why. Sure, when they met as kids, Tsukishima had never been the nicest to him. But he’d never been horrible either. Not the way he was to you - not the way he was to anyone else. It made him feel special, that Tsukishima’s friendship was special - no matter how wrong that was - and maybe when they got closer in high school, he let himself be blind for just a little bit longer. Because Tsukishima Kei called him cool, so wasn’t that a big deal? It shouldn’t have been.

“And what are you going to do?” Tsukishima asked, standing up slowly, he was watching Yamaguchi carefully, he could see the hesitation in the boy's eyes. So, maybe he did have the upper hand, or some sort of ground after all. “Because I really doubt you have it in you to hit me, Tadashi, so just move out of the way and let me talk to my girlfriend.”

That sat wrong with Yamaguchi and his glare hardened. He could hear you crying on the other side of the door, God, you must have been so scared. “She isn’t your girlfriend anymore.”

“Is she yours?” Tsukishima looked down on him, sneering. He already knew the answer.

“Why do you care so much? Because if I remember correctly, you’re the one that broke up with her. You’re the one that did this. And now you’re crawling back?” Yamaguchi scoffed, trying his hardest to make sure his walls weren’t going to break down, he could feel them crumbling already. “That’s pretty lame, Tsukki.”

“Because I fucked up.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes, hands shoved deep into his pocket.

“When did you fuck up exactly?” Yamaguchi stepped closer to him, pointing his finger at him almost violently. “Was it when you told her she wasn’t good enough for you? Was it when you tore her apart for your own entertainment? Was it when she opened up to you, and you shamed her for that? Or could it have been when you left her standing in the rain on your first anniversary? Maybe it was when you abandoned her at her own mother’s funeral because she ‘hurt your feelings’? God, I really just can’t pinpoint when you fucked up,” sarcasm dripped from his tongue as he grabbed Tsukishima by the shirt (when had he gotten so close?) pulling his face down until they met eyelines, “fucking enlighten me, Tsukishima!” He yelled. “You know what, Tsukishima, I think your biggest fuck up was following me to her restaurant, when I told you not to, all because you were bored.”

The tension held in the air was strangling them both. It was all a case of who would let go first - who would be the first one to back away?

They both knew the answer.

Tsukishima pushed Yamaguchi away, scoffing at the green haired boy, “I get it. You hate me.” He rolled his eyes, straightening out his shirt. “But I did care about her.” His voice was softer now, like he was scared that you’d hear him.

“Well,” Yamaguchi cleared his throat, “you have a really funny way of showing it.” They turned away from each other, not wanting to see the changes in their face. A silent agreement between them that things would never be the same. Maybe that was for the best.

When he was sure that Tsukishima had left the building, Yamaguchi reached a shaking hand out to your door.

Your soft whimpers were barely noticeable, but they were there. You opened the door, practically throwing yourself into his arms when you confirmed he was okay; you didn't ask what happened between the boys and he didn’t tell you.

Sure, you never liked doing things easily before, but right now, easy was what your heart needed. Yamaguchi took the lead in making sure you were getting help with the trauma; and he let you take the lead in your relationship.

And sure, you’d always regret the night you’d met Tsukishima Kei. But, no matter what you said, you would never regret the night you’d met Yamaguchi.

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[buckyownsmylife]

Holy Ground - Chapter 5

The one where Andy seems to have lost everything, but he’s not ready to give up.

A terrible car accident ruins Andy Barber’s idea of a perfect life. But if the love’s still there, why wouldn’t he retrace the steps that led him to his happy ending? After all, the best love stories were made to be written more than just once.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist and if you’d like to be tagged on my following Chris Evans and characters stories, just fill out this form.

Waking up in Andy’s arms was like something out of a dream. Instead of feeling disappointed because I opened my eyes to reality - and therefore had to abandon whatever it was that had been entertaining me while asleep - all I could feel was excitement at being in his bed, surrounded by his scent and warmth.

He really was a dream come true to me .

I managed to turn around in his arms without waking him up, taking advantage of this opportunity to admire him. God, he was attractive. A bit more mature than I remembered from our first date, but I guess going through a coma can change your perspective on a lot of things, this included.

And I couldn’t believe he had stuck out with me during this entire medical situation. I think this would be hard even for people who were already in long term relationships, for someone who had literally just met me…

I just couldn’t believe it was really happening, outside of a movie screen, and to me. With someone as great as Andy. It felt like one of those sappy romantic stories, where a sad circumstance brings a couple even closer together, and I was so happy about it. Perhaps even too happy.

A part of me, the part that had been realistic due to everything I’d been through in life, kept asking me to slow down. Not to trust him too soon, not to fall in love despite his gentleness, his patience, everything he’d done for me ever since I woke up. And even though I’d blatantly disregarded that part - I was in love with him, and I knew it - it still existed inside of me, and it made me cautious of losing him suddenly, just like I’d lost everyone else in my life.

I didn’t want to have to live without Andy, but I knew love stories could only end two ways. There was a 50/50 chance for both paths.

As much as I wanted to lay there and think only of the optimistic happy ending I wish I would get to share with Andy, my body reminded me of my reality. I was starving, and if Andy didn’t wake up soon, the growls in my stomach would certainly be his alarm clock, and that just wouldn’t do. So I decided, albeit reluctantly, to leave him in bed and venture back to the main floor of the house, in search of something I could eat.

It was so hard to leave his room without waking him up - I didn’t know how deep his sleep could be, but I didn’t want to take any chances, considering how peaceful he looked. So when I finally managed to close his bedroom door and realized just how badly I needed to pee, I wanted to slap myself on the face, where it would leave a mark.

“Alright,” I thought to myself. “Big place. He’s gotta have another bathroom here somewhere.” And so began my quest for a toilet I could pee in. The first door I opened was obviously an office - it made sense he’d choose the room nearest to his to work on. The second one looked like a guest room, if the lack of personal decorations was any indication of the absence of any current occupants. The third door I tried seemed to be locked, since I wasn’t able to turn the knob all the way to one side. But the fourth one is a charm, right?

I noticed I was wrong before my brain processed what it was that I was seeing, purely from the scent that the room exhaled. It was unmistakably baby powder and that newborn smell that was so peculiar it seemed to be able to make any woman who sniffed it feel fertile in a second.

But then my eyes got used to the low lighting of the bedroom and I noticed the crib. I noticed the decorations on the wall. And I noticed the child on the lap of a woman sat by the window, seemingly as surprised to see me as I was to see her. 

“Oh, I didn’t think anyone would be joining us today,” she said, sitting up straighter as the little boy sucked on a bottle of milk. He couldn’t be older than… what? Three or four months? “Andy said he’d be coming home late and not to expect any visits until way past lunchtime.”

At the mention of the man whose bed I’d just left, I felt as if a bucket of ice had been dropped on me, and I had to hold onto the door so I would keep myself up as my body startled to tremble.

“He… did?” I asked, not in search of any particular confirmation, but just to keep the woman talking so I could have something to focus on instead of the feeling that I was about to faint.

“Yeah, he was excited about it, weren’t you, little one?” She asked the tiny baby, obviously fond of the boy. “Truth be told, he hasn’t been spending much time with his father, and a baby misses that, you know?”

I did know. I did know, but I didn’t have anything to offer in response, so I excused myself from the conversation and closed the door behind me, mind empty but running aimlessly at the same time.

I was still frozen with shock by the time Andy found me in the kitchen, staring emptily at the wall. “I’m so glad you’re here, sweetheart. I’m so hungry, but the only thing in this kitchen that seems to make my mouth water is you.”

His words didn’t even register in my head as I raised my eyes to meet his, my tone cold and devoid of any emotions when I asked, “When were you going to tell me that you have a son?”

[baepsaesbae]

I’m Taeking Over You

Pairing— Kim Taehyung x reader  

Genre— SMUT, boyfriend au, clubbing au

Warnings— Dom!Taehyung, brat!reader, fingering, choking, some booty spanking, explicit rough and unprotected sex, basically pwp

Word Count— ~2.8k

Summary— You convince your boyfriend to go out clubbing with you, but the night heats up after he sees you dancing with another man.

A/N—I hope you enjoy this! Also I thought the name was cute :/ I love puns  

“Let’s go out tonight,” you suggest with a bored tone.

“You wanna go out? But it’s late and we’re so comfy here,” your boyfriend, Taehyung, responds without taking his eyes off his laptop screen.

“Yeah, YOU are comfy. I’m bored,” you huff as you stretch out on the bed, “You’re paying me NO attention.”

You hear a deep sigh followed by the closing of a laptop. You’re laid out like a star in the middle of the bed with your eyes closed. Your cheeks are puffed out in protest. The weight of the bed starts to shift as Taehyung crawls over you. You finally open your eyes to see Taehyung smiling over you.

“I’m here now, you brat. Where do you want to go?” he asks sweetly.

“Mina’s club downtown finally opened up. She told me that the drinks are cheap but still pretty good,” you cheer up.

“Alright, go get ready then,” Taehyung leans down to kiss your forehead before rolling off the bed.

You go through your closet in search of the perfect outfit. You settle on pairing a flashy off the shoulder crop top with a cute skirt. You lean over your vanity so get a closer look in the mirror as you apply your makeup.

Taehyung walks into view. He also changed into clubbing appropriate attire. He leans against the doorway as he watches you apply your lipstick. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself anymore when he walks up to hug you from behind.

“You look beautiful, baby. You sure we can’t stay home tonight?” Taehyung kisses your neck as his hands start to travel down your sides. You stop his hands at your hips.

“And waste this outfit? I don’t think so. You’ll have plenty of time to appreciate all of this after the club,” you tease him, grinding your ass into his crotch.

He lets out a low groan in response, “You love being a tease don’t you? Let’s go then, before I fuck you here on the counter.”

The drive to downtown was pleasant. Taehyung was blasting music that both of you were singing along to. After a while, Taehyung bobbed his head with the music as you continued to sing your heart out.

“Is that the line for the club?” Taehyung nodded towards a line that wrapped around the block.

“Yikes, I think so. Lemme call Mina real quick,” you whip out your phone.

“What is she gonna do--”

“MINA! Hey girl, how are ya? Yeah! I’m right in front of it right now, but the line is HUGE. Do you think you could--oh? Oh it is? Mine and Tae’s? That’s perfect! Thanks babe, I’ll call you tomorrow to let you know how it went! Mwah!” you hung up.

“Babe, you sound so fake when you talk to her,” Taehyung shook his head.

“Flattery goes a long way. How else would our names already be on the VIP list?” you wink.

Taehyung gives you a surprised but impressed look as you lead him to the front of the line. The beefy bouncer found your names on the list and apathetically let you both inside.

The music was deafeningly loud as soon as you guys walked in. You couldn’t even really make out the words. All you could feel was the heavy bass. Of course, it was only this loud because for some reason, the speakers were super close to the entrance.

Taehyung led you to a booth furthest away from the speakers. The music was still loud, but what else do you expect at a club? At least now you could hear yourself think. Taehyung examined the drink menu as soon as he sat down.

“Wow, the drinks really aren’t that expensive! Still pricey, but cheaper than most clubs,” he yelled to you.

He ordered a round of drinks when the waitress came by. His hand rested on your thigh as you people watched together. The dance floor was bustling with life. There was grinding and dirty dancing as far as the eye could see. There were multiple couples making out on the floor. Few were even as close as putting on an exhibitionism act. You were thoroughly entertained as you finished your first drink.  

“Want another?” Taehyung asked.

“Of course, darling,” you nodded.

Your waitress was nowhere in sight. Taehyung was about to get up and search for her when you spotted her out of the corner of your eye. She was making a beeline for your booth with a tray of shots in hand.

“Shots on the house,” she said curtly as placed the tray on the table.

Both of you shared a bewildered look. There were six shots on the tray, with 3 pairs of brightly colored drinks. You smiled, realizing Mina must have been behind this. She poured her life savings into establishing this club, and you were always there to support her. This was a small gesture of her appreciation.

You give Taehyung a devious smile as you hand him a yellow shot. He takes it, and you down your drinks together. It went down surprisingly smooth, despite the sour lemony tang.

Taehyung returns your devious smile with one of his own as he hands you another shot; this time it’s a blue one. This drink was on the sweeter side. You could barely taste the alcohol (which is always pleasant but dangerous).

You felt your cheeks warming up, and soon you were swaying to the music without even realizing it. You know you’re tipsy when you find yourself randomly swaying. You rest your head on Taehyung’s shoulder and plant a small kiss on his jawline.

“Come dance with me,” you whisper in his seductively in his ear.

“There’s a lot of people out there, babe. Let’s just drink here and watch,” Taehyung replied.

“But I wanna dance,” you whine, tugging at his shirt.

“We can dance when we get home,” Taehyung responded, gently taking hold of your hands.

“I wanna dance here! Fine, I’ll go dance by myself,” you say with disdain. You maintain eye contact with him as you drink your last shot. You give him one last frown before making your way to the dance floor.

You wandered into the middle of the crowd, getting lost in a sea of people. Once you found your own little space, your hips began to sway with the music. Your eyes were closed as you let your body lose itself to the music. You weren’t sure how you looked, but at this moment you couldn’t care less.

Dancing by yourself was fun, but also lonely. Your eyes opened as a pair of strong hands gripped your waist. You let the hands guide you as you were slowly being pulled into the person behind you. You looked across the dance floor to see Taehyung still in the booth, his eyes fixated on you.

You turned your head to see a man whose features rivaled those of Taehyung’s, a feat you didn’t think was possible. You look back at Taehyung, who is now leaning back in the booth as he waits for you to make your next move.

You smirk and stick your tongue out at him before taking the stranger’s hands in yours. You guide his hands up and down your body as you grind back against him. From what you could tell, the length in his pants was no joke. All the while, you never broke eye contact with Taehyung.

Taehyung licked his lips in amusement. His babygirl likes to play games huh? He couldn’t wait to teach you a lesson once you got home. He couldn’t help but feel bad for the guy you were dancing with, knowing that he was never going to have a chance with you.

As you were dirty dancing against this stranger, he began to kiss your neck. This was one of your most sensitive areas. You let out a gasp as you leaned into his kisses.

This brought Taehyung to his limit. The dancing and somewhat inappropriate touching was tolerable. But this? Hell no. No one could touch his baby like that except for him.

When your eyes met again, Taehyung pointed at his watch and mouthed “let’s go”. That triggered a sly smirk on your face. As an act of defiance, you turned around to face the stranger, wrapping your arms around him.

“Hi gorgeous, I’m Jungkook,” he yells into your ear.

“Hi Jungkook! I’m y/n. Nice to meet you,” you yell back.

You look back at the booth to find that Taehyung is out of sight. Panic starts to set in. Did he leave without you? Did you make him that mad?

Almost a second later, a strong grip clutches your wrist and pulls you off of Jungkook.

“Hey man what the fu--”

“We’re leaving. Now,” Taehyung says sternly, completely ignoring Jungkook.

He drags you across the dance floor, keeping you close to him. Your ears were ringing by the time you were outside of the club. Taehyung silently guides you back to the car, helping you get in before slamming the door shut. The drive back was silent until you spoke up.

“Did you have fun, darling?” you ask innocently.

Taehyung didn’t respond.

“Are you mad at me?” you pout, “It’s not my fault that you didn’t want to dance. Jungkook was nice enough to join me.”

“Oh so you’re on a first name basis with him? I’ll take you to your next date with him then,” Taehyung replied in an unamused tone.

“Aw don’t get pouty with me, darling,” you try to stroke his cheek, but he swats your hand away.

Taehyung pulls into the driveway. He helps you out of the car, not saying a word. He remains stoic until you get to the bedroom. You’re about to flop onto the bed when he grabs you by the wrist, spins you around, and pins you against the wall.

“Did you enjoy playing your little game, babygirl?” Taehyung places his leg between your thighs, “Did you enjoy teasing me like that?”

“Of course I did. You were finally paying attention to me,” you bat your eyes at him.

Taehyung tsked as he pinned your wrists above your head. He licks a hot stripe up your neck, causing you to moan.

“You see this? This is all mine. This neck. This body. This pussy. All of this. You’re all mine. And I’m never sharing,” Taehyung growls lowly as he peppers kisses all over you, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll have all of my attention tonight,” his hand slips under your skirt, pulling your panties aside.

Taehyung continues to kiss on your neck as he slowly teases your clit. He starts to rub it faster, applying more pressure. You started to grind against his hand, begging him for more. Taehyung roughly pushes you back against the wall, gripping your throat.

“You want more, babygirl? You’re gonna have to earn it after playing your little games today,” he growls in your ear, increasing his pace on your clit.

“Please, Tae. Please give me something. Anything. I just want you inside me,” you whimper against his neck.

Taehyung complies by slipping a finger inside you, simultaneously locking his lips with yours. He easily added another finger, causing you to moan against his mouth. He wouldn’t let you pull away to moan, as he interrupted you by dipping his tongue inside your open mouth.

Your legs started to tremble and it was getting harder to stand up. As soon as Taehyung realized that you were about to cum, he abruptly pulled out his fingers. You couldn’t help but angrily gasp when the feeling quickly slipped away. You were so close. Just a second longer and you would’ve orgasmed.

“Does my little baby not like being teased?” Tae cooed.

“Why are you being so mean?” you pout.

“You know why, you fucking brat. I could be really mean and not touch you for the rest of the night,” Taehyung licks his lips.

“No, please baby I need you,” you beg, desperation showing in your eyes, “I’ll be a good girl, I promise!”

“Strip and get on the bed,” Tae caved, smacking your ass when he released his grip on your wrists.

You quickly abandon your clothes, throwing them off in a careless manner. You eagerly watch Taehyung slowly undo his belt and untuck his shirt. He takes his time unbuttoning his shirt. He’s relishing the how needy you look as you patiently wait for him. He knows you love undressing him. But for tonight, as an added punishment, he undresses himself agonizingly slowly. His shirt is still on but fully unbuttoned and you started to whine.

You sit on the side of the bed with your legs hanging off. Your patience wears thin when you lift up your arms towards him and make grabbing motions with your hands. Tae’s prolonged teasing coupled with the denial of your orgasm has left you needier than usual. Taehyung couldn’t help but be amused by your subdued state. The brattiness has worn away for the night (but it’s sure to be back by the next day).

He finally makes his way towards you and leans in for a kiss. He cups your face with one hand and pulls you closer with the other. You legs wrap around him as the kiss deepens. Your hands palm at the bulge in his pants and start to unzip them, only to be slapped away.

“Nuh uh. I’m in charge tonight,” Taehyung breaks the kiss to say with a deep, lust filled voice.

He sucks on your neck as his hands play with your chest, his fingers twisting and pulling at your nipples. You arch your back in pleasure. Soft moans fill the air. Taehyung goes back to making out with you when you hear his zipper being undone. You slip off his shirt and now he’s almost as naked as you.

Taehyung slips a hand between your thighs to discover how wet you are. He wears a satisfied smirk on his face as he finally tugs off his underwear.

He rubs his length along your slick pussy, coating himself with your juices. You lock eyes and you can see the triumph in his eyes. As much as he loves pounding you into oblivion, teasing you is its own special reward. He loves the way you squirm under him, begging him for more.

“Being a good girl isn’t so hard, huh?” he says as he slowly pushed himself into you.

Your eyes were squeezed shut in pure bliss. You let out a low moan when he finally bottomed out. He took his time pulling out of you, only to shock you when he slammed back into you. You yelped at the sudden but welcomed change of pace. He continued this new form of teasing for a bit. He would harshly slam into you, only to slowly remove himself. It left you wanting more. You started to whine in protest.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Taehyung cooed.

“Please stop teasing me. I need you to fuck me Tae. Fuck me hard,” you begged.

Taehyung complied. His pace quickened as he forcefully bucked into you. You couldn’t help but squeal out in pure bliss. One of Taehyung’s hands snaked its way up to your neck, placing a firm grip on it. The other hand started toying with your clit.

Taehyung loved seeing you like this. His precious baby looking so naughty under him. He knew how much you loved it when he choked you. You were moaning so sweetly for him. You could barely keep your eyes open as he drilled into you.

Taehyung slipped out of you and roughly flipped you over onto your knees. You sank onto your chest, propping your ass out for him. This was yet another sight that Taehyung relished. He harshly slapped your ass before pounding into you.

You were crying out even louder now. Even Taehyung had a hard time controlling his groans. Usually he was a silent but strong type because he loved listening to you. But you heard his low grunts and groans mix with your lewd moans. You reached between your thighs to rub your clit as Taehyung took you closer to the edge.

“Baby, I’m so close,” you whimper as your legs start to shake.

“Cum for me, y/n,” Taehyung huffed, you could tell he was close too.

You let yourself go, feeling the sweet release overtake your body. It wasn’t long after that when Taehyung came inside you. His hot liquids filled you up, causing you to moan out.

Taehyung left to get a rag to clean you up with. He returned to find you curled up into a ball, nearly asleep. You felt a warm damp cloth wipe away the mess you created together. You reached out for Taehyung, pulling him towards you.

“Was that enough attention for you, babygirl?” Taehyung asked, stroking your hair.

“Mmhm, I’m hap,” you snuggled him.

“Good. You’re such a brat. But I love you anyway,” he kisses your forehead.

“I love you too, Taehyung,” you reach up to kiss him sweetly before resting your head on his chest as you both succumb to slumber.

Published November 13, 2020. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2020 Baepsaesbae.