#that ended with me chasing him out of the kitchen and across the living room with a wet twisted dish towel

[seonghwaddict]

super duper pretty — kim hongjoong

in which you haven’t heard from him in years but a single drunk phone call ends up with you tangled up in your bed.

musician!kim hongjoong x fem!reader. genre. angst, suggestive, friends to lovers. warnings. drinking, tension, kissing, suggestive content. wc. 4k. rating. pg-13.

lilo’s notes. AGHDHSJDJJAJDJSJDHSJS GRRRR WOOF WOOF AWOOOO GR AHHHDHDHDHHDS

listening to. right here, chase atlantic.

masterlist.

you weren’t someone hongjoong could bring himself to think about much these days. despite having known each other since childhood and been best friends, he hadn’t spoken to you in three years, too caught up in his thriving music career.

album, tours, interviews, collaborations. it all kept him busy and away from you. his chase for stardom had him isolating and distancing himself from friends and family. and, sure, it was shitty, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the people he was told would hold him back. he didn’t have time to regret it. regretting leads to stagnating and stagnating would lead to the end of his career.

that’s not to say he didn’t miss you. of course, he did. but on the last day he spoke to you, it ended in an argument he didn’t have the energy to resolve. so, he left. he left you.

him not having time to regret it was more an ideal rather than a truth.

in reality, he regretted leaving you more than anything else.

but three years later he still hadn’t talked to you, afraid it would ruin his pride if he came running back to you. yet he couldn’t deny how he felt like he was on top of the world, the best producer and rapper in the scene. his career was thriving and his newest album topped charts across alll platforms. when all the interviews and promotions were finally over, he decided to treat himself ot a little celebration, renting a club in town and inviting every major celebrity he had connections too.

the night was spent dancing and throwing back shot after shot until he could barely stand. he enjoyed it at first, but slowly the effects of the colourful drinks made him feel much too hot and cramped in the sea of dancing bodies. making sure no one noticed, he escaped through a back door into the cold, fresh air. he felt the sudden urge to leave, but in his drunken state it would be difficult to navigate his way home.

without thinking, he slumped against the red brick wall and pulled out his phone, dialing a number he’s always know by heart. it rang three times before the person picked up.

“hello?”

hongjoong didn’t realise how much he missed your voice until you uttered that word so softly. he could picture you somewhere in your appartment, maybe in the kitchen to get a snack, tilting your head in confusion at the unfamiliar number.

“hey,” he really didn’t know what else to say, staring intently at a leaf on the ground.

you went completely silent on the other end and for a moment he thought you’d hung up. but, eventually, you spoke again, only this time a certain firmness to your voice.

“what do you want?”

“come pick me up,” his words slurred and molded together and you had a hard time unnderstanding him, sat stifly on your couch, “please, i need you to pick me up. just… just this once?”

you didn’t know what to say. you wanted to scream and yell at him and demand a proper explanation as to why he just walked out of your life like it was nothing, but at the same time, you wanted to sob and confess how much you missed him.

still, you couldn’t help but ask, “what the hell happened, hongjoong?”

"i- i'm drunk," he slurred, sounding even worse than before as he shuffles his feet on the floor pebbled floor. "like, really, really drunk," he insisted with a quiet groan, but you already came to that conclusion. "come pick me up… please?"

you stood up from your couch, pacing around you living room as you listened to him speak before stopping by your window and looking out into the night sky. he was the last person you thought would call you at this house, not having heard from him in three years. but here he was, drunk and begging you to pick him up from god knows where.

“fine.” you said simply, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you grabbed your coat from the entrance of your apartment and slipped on some shoes, not bothering to change out of your nightwear. “where are you?”

“um,” he looked around. the back door led into an alley, but if he walked off to the right he’d be right by the entrance. with his free hand supporting him on the wall, he did his best to get there. “outside the, uh, club,” he explained, though it was really helpful, “by the-” he cut himself off with a sigh, resting his forehead against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut in frustation of his lack of clarity, “the red one.”

your eyebrows furrowed at his vague description as you got to your car, getting into the drivers seat and just sitting there until he could give you a proper answer. “the… red… one?”

“it’s got, um,” he looked around the surrounding area, spotting a familiar place just across the street, “in front of that café we used to go to?”

“oh.” you recognised that, hesitating for a moment before starting the car, unwanted memories of the countless hours you spent with him there clouding your thoughts. all the talking and studying and laughing. “find somewhere to sit.”

“okay,” he nodded to himself, taking some steps to a wooden bench and pointing at it as if you could see, “i’m gonna sit on this thingy.” his drunken stupor had him laughing at himself as he takes the final steps to sit down. he swayed a little but not enough to make him lose balance and fall. once sat, he nodded and grinned at nothing in particular, just proud he was able to manage the simple task you gave him. “i’m sitting.”

“good, great,” you hummed approvingly, holding back a smile at his antics, “now… just hang tight, i’ll be right there, okay?”

“okay.”

it felt good to sit here, he realised with a sigh as he leaned back and tipped his head to look up at the stars. the gentle caress of the night air and the dimmed sounds of the city around him a soothing backdrop to the chaos in his head.

a silence followed his words, tense but not uncomfortable. the red exterior of the cheap club came into view soon enough and you slowed to a stop to park in a free space. you got out of the car and looked around until you found a familiar figure sitting on a bench tucked below a little tree. you hesitated again for a moment before walking to him as slowly as possible, your heart pounding in your chest. he hadn’t noticed you yet, having shut his eyes at some point.

it took you some long moments but you finally pulled yourself together and cleared your throat, making him startle as you muttered a tentative, “hey.”

he glanced toward the sound of your voice, blinking away the drunken haze as he attempted to focus on the world around him. his vision unclear and unfocused as looked up at you, struggling to recognise you for a moment. the bright streetlights made his head ache a little; the world a blur and all he could do was struggle to focus until he could see you properly, the familiar feature snapping him back to reality.

you shifted back and forth on your heels awkwardly, waiting for him to say something as he just stared at you, face flushed and intoxicated. your hair was messy and you wore shorts and a loose light grey sweater. you wondered if he even recognised you, or were you just a stranger to him?

“you came,” he breathed after a while, eyes taking in every detail on you. he focused on you; the way the moonlight caught on your skin, the soft furrow of your brows and subtle downturn of your lips. your eyes, his favourite eyes in the world, looking back at him. “you actually came.”

“you called,” you answered, almost breathless as you also took him in. his style looked a little edgier than when you’d last seen him, though still as chic as ever. short bleached hair, the corners of his sharp eyes smoked out.

“i did,” he nodded, attempting to stand up before slumping back again, “but you actually came.” the alcohol made his words feel heavy, pushing them out in soft sighs as his eyes locked with yours again. he grinned stupidly, “you’re like, pretty.”

you almost laughed at his words, shaking your head lightly, “and you’re like, drunk,” you scoffed jokingly, “come on, it’s late, let me get you home.”

“no, i mean,” he whined, pouting dramatically and now you weren’t sure if the pink tint of his face was from the alcohol or something else, “you’re like super duper pretty.”

unsure of how to respond to his compliment, you only chuckled nervously and offered him a hand to help him get up. “come on.”

he stared at your hand for a few long moments before grasping it and standing up with your assistance. he stumbled a little but caught himself as you led him to the car. your nudged him to get into the passenger seat as you walked around to get into the driver’s.

it was dark in your car, your face dimly illuminated by the screen that displayed a map of the area. you look even prettier in this light, he thought, the sharp shadows making your features stand out that much more. your cheeks soft and round and your eyes sparkling with reflections in a way that made his wander all over you.

neither of you said anything for a while as you sat there. seemingly lost in his drunken daze, he realised how familiar this felt, being there with you, just you and him. everything felt right. he let out a soft hum before leaning back, tilting his head back against the seat and closing his eyes.

“my place is closer than yours,” now that he wasn’t looking at you, you felt comfortable enough to break the silence. finally buckling your seatbelt, you tried to ignore the way butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the thought of his eyes on your body, “you can stay for the night, if you want.”

“do i get the couch?” he turned his head to peer over at you as you start the car, “or…” he giggled, “or… we can share the bed.”

you raised an eyebrow at him, surprised at how flirtatious he was being. “we’ve shared before so, i guess… if the bed is more comfortable for your then i’m fine with sharing it.”

memories of your late night excursions with him rushed back to you and you briefly wondered if he would touch you the same as you laid together. would the feeling of his hand in yours bring you the same comfort? or the protective grip on your back or thigh? you don’t mention any of it.

“let’s just share,” he whispered back. he sounded tired, though if asked he could probably go on a ten page rant of how much he missed being close to you.

he, too, thought of all the night you spent together. the laughs and the touches that felt so real. he remembered how comfortably you would fit in the same bed, laying side-by-side and watching random movies until dawn broke. how easily you’d fall asleep as you shared blankets, face mere inches away from each other but never quite touching.

he wondered if it was possible to relive those times, gazing over at you for a moment before shaking his head and look out the window. those were nothing but drunk fantasies.

“okay,” you whispered back, trying not to look at him, trying not to shiver at the softness of his voice. a little slurred, but still soft.

he was always like that with you. soft.

people would mistake the two of you for lovers more often than not when they first met you, but it was always denied with flushed cheeks and awkward giggles. and it was true. no matter what was said or done, you always remained just that. best friends. it was for the better, made things much less complicated. especially when he took off and you never saw him again.

at least, until now.

the silence in the car was palpable, broken only by quiet breaths and the low hum of the car. it was a calm silence, mildly comfortable despite how heavy it felt, weighted down by all the things unsaid.

eventually, you slowed to a stop and pulled into your parking space in front of the apartment building you lived in. turning off the car, you got out and beelined for the entrance. he knew where to go anyway, not looking back at him as you led the way to your apartment.

the door opened to your living room and kitchen area, just a little messy since you weren’t expecting anyone to come over anytime soon. you made quick work of shucking off your jacket and placing your shoes aside, telling him to wait for a moment before you disappeared through a hallway he knew led to your bedroom.

you returned quickly, a pile of folded clothes in your arms that you held out to him, explaining he had left them a while ago. his body itself didn’t change much, so you figured they should still fit. you didn’t want his sweaty dishevelled suit on your bedsheets.

as he changed, you paced back and forth in your bedroom nervously, thinking about all the possible things that could happen. but you stopped quickly when you heard the bathroom door unlock, practically jumping to lay in bed. you tucked yourself into one side of the large bed, covers pulled up to your chin as you face away from him.

you heard him pause for a moment before you felt the bed dipping behind you and the covers shifting as he blanketed himself too. despite there being a considerable amount of space between you, you still felt him body heat brushing against yours in the thick silence. even though you can’t see him, you knew for a fact he’s probably laying on his back to look at the little glow-in-the-dark stars you stuck to my ceiling years ago and never took down.

you sighed and whispered, “hongjoong?”

“uh-huh?” he hummed, eyes closed for a moment before he turning his head to glance at your back.

you squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath before finally asked the thing you’d been dying to know. “did you ever miss me?”

“more than anything,” he breathed and you felt him shift to lay on his side, facing you. he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold you like he used to. his voice held a hint of melancholy but he didn’t elaborate more.

you turned too after a moment, not taking a second to notice just how close he was, the thick white covers shifting slightly from the movement. your voice quivered slightly as you spoke, eyes stinging with welling tears. “i missed you too, you know… i missed you every day since you left and every day i hoped you’d come back. but you never did.”

his heart clenched at you admission, the voice he loved so much threatening to turn into sobs. the truth was, he wanted to, countless nights sat alone, wishing he turned back to knock on your door.

“i-i wanted to,” he stammered, whispering ashamedly.

“it’s fine, i got over it,” you forced yourself to focus on the pillow under his head instead of his handsome face.

his brows furrowed as you averted your gaze, eyes following yours even if you refused to look at him. he knew you well enough to know when you lied. he knew you well enough to know you didn’t get over it. didn’t get over him. he mumbled, “did you really?”

your lip trembled at his question but you kept your gaze locked on the white fabric, pressing them together to get them to stop as a few tears spill over the corners of your eyes.

you shook your head, your little voice breaking with overwhelming emotions, “n-no, i didn’t.”

you shifted your look to his hesitantly, your skin tingling from his warmth. your eyelids fluttered as you tried to hold back the tears.

"don’t," he whispered, thumb slipping down to caress your jaw. his eyes searched yours, your eyes wide with sadness and something he couldn’t quite understand. "don’t hide it. you don’t always have to be so strong. not in front of me.”

those words snapped something in your mind, no longer able to swallow down the lump in your throat as you threw yourself into his inviting arms, yours wrapping around his neck as you sobbed into the slope of his shoulder.

“why- why did you leave, w-why didn’t you come back... p-please, i need to know.”

he didn’t expect the sudden break down, but still held you close. one hand at the back of your head, the other holding you by your waist, your bodies pressed against each other and he let his lips press against the top of your head, making you shiver.

he rubbed your back, letting your tears fall wherever they man, muttering reassurances iagainst your hair. his faint scent of whiskey and mint mingled with your vanilla shampoo, his eyes shutting at the oddly comforting mix of smells. you felt him press repeated kisses to your messed up hair.

sobs racked your body for a few more minutes before the tears stopped falling and your breaths evened. you nodded against him, pulling your head away from him to look up at his face, at his eyes. the hand at the back of your head slipped forward to cup your cheek again, brushing his finger along your skin. he traces your cheek bone and along your harline down to your jaw, his eyes shifting between yours in disbelief that his skin was on yours once again.

“i was afraid,” he admitted, barely a whisper, “i was afraid that if i came back, i’d fall for you more… and then i wouldn’t have been able to spend a day without you, wouldn’t be able to chase after my dream. but… at the time, i didn’t recognise you were part of it, you know, my dream.”

your breath hitched as the words registered, “you- what?”

you cut him off with something you'd been wanting to do for a while; you kissed him, hands holding either side of his face. his eyes are widened in surprise, though he didn’t hesitate to lean into the kiss, returning it as quickly as you did it. his hands tightened around you, pulling you as close as he could.

your lips fit against eachother so perfectly, like the lego sets you’d force him to build with you when you were younger, every curve and edge of your bodies slotting together naturally. he got lost in the sensation of finally getting what he dreamed of, a hand slipping below the hem of your shirt to hold onto your bare waist, just wanting to feel closer to you.

his mouth tasted of exactly what he smelled like, mint and traces of whiskey, whimpering against his lips as you welcomed the taste and the touch. your whimper unlocked something, the kiss growing more urgent, restlessly pushed against each other without air left between. you could barely breathe, but you didn’t care as long as his lips stayed locked on yours for as long as possible.

but eventually, he bit down on your bottom lip ever so slightly before pulling away, catching his breath as you caught yours. your chest heaving as you refilled your lungs with air, face flushed from the realisation of what you just did and from the thought of what else you might do.

he glanced down at your swelling parted lips, jimmy coated by your mixed saliva, his pupils blown wide with desire.

“i wanna…” he mumbled, breath unsteady, “i want to…”

he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, at least not until he noticed the way you peered up at him expectantly with that curious gaze. “what is it, joong?”

that nickname. he hadn’t heard it in a while. three years, actually, because you were the only one that called him that. his eyes searched yours.

“i want to do that again,” he admitted, cheeks warming, “and again and again and again… and so much more than just that.”

your breath hitched, intestines tied into knots as you struggled to figure out what you should say. the truth was that you wanted that too, wanted to feel his lips and hands all over your body. but, as his breath fanned over your face and you caught the traces of alcohol folded into the smell of mint gum, you were reminded that there was a thin possibility he didn’t mean any of it.

“you’re drunk, joong… it’s better if we don’t.”

he frowned, his grip on you loosening. “but you want to, don’t you?” he countered, “you know you want this too, so why not?”

“i just-“ you paused to sigh, continuing with an even tone, “i just don’t want you to regret anything.”

“i meant every goddamn thing i said,” his brows furrowed for a moment and he squinted, trying to emphasise his point, “so, i can’t regret this. i can’t regret you.“

you bit your lip, thinking carefully before sighing, the tension leaving your body as you played with the string of his hoodie.

“how about this…” you suggested, speaking slowly, “if you can wake up and tell me you remembered all this, then we can see where this goes.”

“and if i don’t, you’ll never mention in again?”

you nodded, slightly anxious as you wait for him to agree. it didn’t take too long, seemingly an acceptable compromise for him as he nodded.

“okay,” he agreed, his hand on your waist beneath your shirt tightening once again, “let me just kiss you one more time though, i won’t be able to sleep if you don’t.”

you laughed at his silly excuse, forehead dropping against his shoulder for a moment before lifting to look at him again with a grin that made you feel so stupid and in love. “fine, just one more time.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

[flintstill]

I'm going through my drafts and adding posts from there to my queue, and ive come across a bunch of like diary entries recounting/memory hoarding events re bench boy, and i'm sitting here with sore cheeks from smiling and am audibly laughing to myself at some of our playful banter and antics

[dabisbratz]

been fantasizin! — izuku midoriya x male reader

w.c: 2.1k

WARNING: heat cycles, bunny quirk, ear-pulling, creampie (x2), toy use, overstimulation, manhandling, dacryphilia, soft dom!izuku, praise, kissing, drool/spit, body worship, dirty talk, breeding mention, use of the word “pussy” as a synonym for (ass)hole, amab reader

“Honey?” There’s a soft click of the front door as it unlocks, a tall pro-hero setting foot inside with a few grocery bags in hand. The penthouse is homely, not at all too large for it’s two inhabitants, with a nicely decorated living room and fully applianced kitchen. The kitchen island outlooks the living-room, and the living-room outlooks the balcony, with a pretty, twinkling view of Musutafu’s bustling city. Izuku couldn’t have asked for a better home, a better boyfriend, a better life. He fought hard for it, anyway. “I’m back!”

The home is draped in domesticity, well lived in with a few misplaced remotes and a blanket scattered across the pleather couch.

He can’t find you anywhere, not in the kitchen making a snack, not hiding behind the couch, with floppy ears that match your hair and give you away. Not on the balcony, where you like to lean too far out for your viewing pleasure and his dismay. He frowns, freckled cheeks puffed out in a pout and eyes dimly lit. It’s unusual for his bunny to stay where he is, typically he waits by the door for his boyfriend's return, ears bouncing excitedly the second the door is unlocked. There’s only really one place you could be, but he has a few things to put away first.

The groceries end up where they shouldn’t be, apples in the freezer and thinly cut beef stacked inside the fridge, but Midoriya just can’t focus when his day has been knocked off its path like this. He slams the fridge door much harder than intended, the stainless steel shaking in his grasp and nearly threatening to fall. It doesn’t, but the display almost has Izuku panicking again, sights set on two things at one.

So he makes his way to the bedroom.

It’s shared between the two of you, a large, soft, and warm mattress with even softer blankets (you picked them out), and some nice blackout curtains when city lights ended up too overwhelming. The door creaks quietly, nothing compared to the sound that doesn’t seem to be quieting down any time soon.

You’re grinding your cock down against the midsized plushie Izuku had won you on one of your first dates back in highschool, ruining the soft fur with your precum. It must be because it smells just like him, having previously been wearing one of his hoodies, and you’d referred to the bear as Izuku Jr. It’s wet and sticky, almost like the air in the room, which fills with desperate moans as your hips rock back and forth against the plush. Izuku can see the bounce of your ass as you rock it back against a silicone toy, slippery with lube and dribbling onto the bed. He frowns.

Your heat cycle must have started while he was away. His poor boy, his poor baby, was left alone to fend for himself, fucking himself against nothing but a fake for the last few hours. Your pretty thighs must be aching and tired by now, on fire and sore, wrapped around a teddy bear when it could’ve been him. Izuku sighs, shedding himself of his jacket before rolling up his sleeves, and slowly padding over to the bed.

He’s careful not to tear you away, you get very territorial of your ‘nest’, instead tracing his fingertips up your calves, the back of your thighs, the swell of your ass. It’s only when he gives a sharp squeeze to your backside do you notice his presence. Your big ears twitch, swaying along as your head whips back to finally register the man beside you. You can’t say much, throat hoarse and tired from cries that fell on deaf ears, but the look on your face is enough for Izuku to scoop you up and cup your face.

“Don’t stop ‘cause of me,” He whispers against your lips, gently scraping his nails behind your ears. You keen against his touch, chasing his palm until his freckled thumb is slipped into your mouth. You can feel a scar that runs across his thumb, similar to the veins in his dick. “Cockdumb bunny, you’re so pretty like this. How’d this happen, sweetpea?”

You moan around his thumb, suckling and rutting your hips against his clothed thigh, which is already starting to collect sticky stains of pre. There’s a small tug on your ear, hard enough to get your lips to pop off his finger until you’re looking up at him, eyes sparkly and wet. Izuku wipes your drying tears with his big hands, then tugs harder. “I know, too much thinking gets you riled up. Just need an answer, honey, then we can take care of your needy hole.”

‘Zuku’s hands are always better. When your brain isn’t fully online he’s there, all smiles and big hands to touch you just right. He slides his hands up your torso, actively avoiding your cock as he smears the cum on your bellybutton up to your chest, massages it into your hard nipples while you tremble in his hands. You fist the sleeves of his shirt, right where the neckline meets shoulder, pulling him in closer until his breath ghosts i’ve your nipples. You can’t take the lingering touches, you need something constant. Something intense.

But instead you whine, too needy to form any actual complete sentences or thoughts.

“Thought of— wanna be good. Need— M’a good boy. ‘Zuku. Need you.” It’s more jumbled than anything, a pathetic noise leaving your body as he pushes you back down against your plush, dildo discarded somewhere by the headboard. Such a silly thing, you got too far in your head and really thought some silicone was good enough to satiate your needs.

“Just stayed sweet for me? Thought about the stretch of my cock inside you— your mouth, your ass?” Midoriya responds absentmindedly, strong jaw clenched as he lifts you up by the hips, keeping you bent over until your face is smashed into the sheets, bunny ears alert and twitching as he rubs them soothingly. He tuts, sliding his hands down to your ass and spreading the thick cheeks apart wide. He’s met with your overstimulated hole, sloppy and needy as it winks up at him. “Or is this a cunt, honey? Made for breeding? It already looks like you’re gushing.”

He’s partly grateful you’re not positioned to face him, a sharp shade of red dusting his matured cheeks as you nod and press your ass down into his palms. Your thighs are sticky and soaked with lube, must’ve been leaking out of you since you’d gotten up to greet him. Your voice sounds whiny and high, ears bouncing with each downward thrust you make, bouncing against his hands like you’re trying to fuck yourself on his cock, despite it not being out yet.

“ ‘Zuku, ‘Zuku, ‘Zuku,” It’s a mantra of sorts, loud and rushing blood straight down south to Izuku’s stiff cock. You can’t think of anything but him, the stretch of your entrance as he pushes himself impossibly deep into your guts, the feeling of his hand supporting your tummy so he can feel himself sliding in and out of you, the praise that leaves his lips when he’s shooting a load into you, keeping you still on his dick until it finally stops spurting. “Ohh.”

“I think it is, baby,” Izuku purrs, letting you grind against his cock for contact when he removes the warmth of his hands, undoing his fly to free himself from his boxers. He’ll start off quick for now, just to get you coherent again, then fuck you nice and slow, how you deserve it, once you’ve had a load to nurse. He lines himself up quickly, tracing your entrance with the fat head of his dick. “All mine, right? Barely fits, even after all that training you’ve been doing. C’mere, honey. Feel.”

His other hand takes yours to trail it down your hips and past your ass, dipping into the crevice of your ass until your fingertips are pressed against your hole, dipping into the entrance as his cock is slapped against it. He’s right, it barely fits, fat and curved perfectly, you shed a few tears when he slips inside, your hole stretching around his length and swallowing him up despite the intrusion.

“Just gotta fuck it right, don’t I, pretty? Gotta use it nice and sweet, get you all pliant and dizzy just how you like it,” You’re nodding, lips parted and panting loudly against the sheets, drooling onto them and ultimately getting it all over your cheek, but you don’t care. Izuku’s cock is right there, inches away from being inside you, from breeding you and using you like you deserve.

“Did you know you have a really pretty hole, baby? Just as cute as your face!”

He sounds lewd, but it’s genuine. His dimpled smile is enough to tell you that, you can hear it in his voice, even if it’s a little ragged and breathless. He’s rambling again, something about pumping you full until you can’t do anything but twitch against the mattress, but it doesn’t matter. Not when his cock is pushing inside you, not when your own is starting to spurt out rope after rope of cum once he’s inside.

Your hole convulses around him, sucking him in deeper and deeper until it’s clenching around the base of his cock, his curly, dark pubes peeking out from his pants and resting against your ass. He uses you like a toy, rocks you up and down while you ride the wave of your millionth orgasm tonight, tongue rolled out of your mouth and ears droopy against your cheeks. Your pants rival the sound of his balls against your ass, a harsh smacking sound as he increases the speed of his strokes, groaning when you claw at the sheets for support.

“Fuck, you’ll take all my cum, won't you? Yeah, think it'll catch? All this hot, sticky cum inside you?”

Your ass crashes against him, shining under the dimly lit bedside lamp. Bunnies do what they do best, bouncing on and off his cock until you’re delirious, tears streaming down your handsome face. Izuku barely needs to touch your cock, instead meeting your bounces half way while he grabs your wrists, bending them behind your back for leverage. You sob, a pathetic, loud noise that has Izuku groaning soon after, and he knows you’re crying now.

Midoriya shoots deep inside you, thick, creamy ropes of cum pooling inside you just to seep out your puffy, abused hole. It spills over the sides of his cock, dropping down your thighs and your toes curl, a happy sound leaving your throat since you’re finally full.

But Izuku wants one more, just for safekeeping.

He spoons up the cum with his fingers, pushing it back into your hole alongside his sensitive cock, his head falling forward as he melts into you. He gets it now, the neediness, he wants to fuck you full, feel you tighten and squeeze down on his cock because you can’t take it, praise you for being such a good, warm hole for him and his big dick. He’s just as desperate as you, fucking the cum deeper against that sensitive bundle of nerves that makes you lose your voice.

“Say thank you, bunny. Aren’t you grateful for my cock? My cum inside you like you’ve always wanted? Fuck, I love this hole. Don’t forget your manners, baby.”

You’re responding before you can process the question, letting him manhandle you up and down on his cock, your overstimulated hole struggling to keep up with his pace. You'd fall flat on your face if it weren’t for his supportive hand, spread on your tummy and pressing into that delicious bump of his cock every time it fucks up into you.

“Th—ank you, thank you, ‘Zuku, love your cum n’my bunnyboy pussy.” And— oh, he never gets used to it, your sweet voice repeating his words with the promise of a few pats to the head, a scratch behind the ear, a kiss to the forehead. Izuku’s emerald eyes roll back in his head, his thrusts sloppy and unsteady as his balls tighten.

He’s cumming again before he knows it, the familiar clamp of your hole making his hips stutter as you cum too, collecting glob after glob of his cum inside you, feeling it stick to your gooey walls.

“Stay— stay ‘nside.” Your words are slurred, alert bunny ears now limp and tired as you lick your lips, shimmying down on Izuku’s spent cock. There’s a slight bias behind you, but the man doesn’t protest, instead grabbing you by the hips to resettle into a comfortable, spooning position, his hot skin already cooling by the second.

He’ll change later, maybe fuck you against the shower door if you can get up, but for now he’s content with holding you, even if his clothes are sticky and damp. His arm is behind your head, earning a small nuzzle as you sigh into his forearm.

If there’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s his love for you.

[wheeboo]

dandelion | boo seungkwan

SYNOPSIS. in which healing is a treacherous process, but when it's with you, seungkwan knows he will be okay. PAIRING. boo seungkwan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort (we comfort boo), established relationship WARNINGS. kissing, terms of endearment, lil talk abt marriage at the end WORD COUNT. 1.7k

notes: wanted to write a lil something for him after he released dandelion and it only took a v small crying sesh for me to finally write it 😭😭

It's the first time in a long time you wake up without your boyfriend right next to you.

A few groggy groans escapes your lips, followed by a sharp gasp at the sudden rush of cool air meeting your skin when you sit up in bed. Your fingers curl tightly around the blanket, blinking away the dryness to your eyelids as you turn to peer outside the bedroom window.

The world still seems wrapped in a cloak of sleep, yet you spot a faint, ethereal glow peaking through the curtain of morning. A mix of a soft lavender and the faintest blush of a rose pink bleeds across the horizon, gently pushing back the remaining shadows of the night. It's a heartwarming sight to wake up to, but the warmth doesn't seep into your bones as much as it does when Seungkwan is right next to you.

Where had he gone anyway? He didn't text you if he had went anywhere, and it was still too early for him to be going to work.

Letting out a sigh, you swing your legs over, hissing slightly when the cold floor meets your bare feet, while still clutching the blanket around you like a makeshift cape. You pad across the wooden floor and head out of the bedroom, your mind still clutching to the hands of sleep as a yawn leaves you.

The living room is bathed in a soft, early morning light, its usual vibrancy appearing mute. The silence felt too heavy, devoid of the gentle snores and soft murmurs of endearment that usually accompanied your mornings. It's been like this for some time, and you don't really mind the quietness, but it does feel different.

As your feet drag you in the direction of the kitchen, you spot some movement in the corner of your eye. Your gaze trails towards the sliding door that led out to the apartment balcony, and that's where you spot him𑁋Seungkwan, bundled up in a comfortable set of baby blue pyjamas and hoodie, his back facing you with his phone held up high towards the sky. As you watch him for a few moments, you see the way he tilts his head slightly, trying to capture the picturesque sky on his phone screen.

The sight of him brings a familiar warmth to bloom inside your chest, chasing away the remnants of the chill that had settled on your skin. You quietly approach the door, lingering contemplatively for a few moments to simply watch your boyfriend. Seungkwan appears caught in a spell at the sight of the sky, his brow furrowed in concentration, and a hint of colour nipping at his cheeks from the cold, yet his shoulders seem relaxed for the first time in weeks.

Hesitantly, you slowly slide the door open, wincing at the cold that immediately gnaws at whatever exposed skin you had. When you fully step onto the balcony, you close the door behind you, wrapping the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

"Kwannie?" You call out sleepily.

Seungkwan jumps slightly at the sound of your voice, his phone coming back down to his side as he turns around with widened eyes. The soft morning light bathes his face, highlighting the remnants of sleep and a hint of lingering worry in his features. However, as his eyes wash over the sight of you all bundled cutely and sleepily in your blanket, it brings a flicker of warmth to his lips.

"What are you doing out here so early?" You ask softly, approaching him cautiously.

An embarrassed flush creeps up his neck as he mumbles under his breath, "Couldn't sleep."

A faint, understanding smile crosses your face, the worry in your heart dissipating slightly.

"I'm sorry, love," You reply, gesturing towards the balcony railing. "Mind if I join you?"

Seungkwan only nods, his gaze flickering back to the breathtaking canvas of colours spread across the sky. You step closer, keeping a respectful distance, and lean against the railing beside him. The silence returns, but this time it's not heavy, seemingly carrying a quiet hope for the new day dawning ahead.

"I wanted to try something new," he starts tentatively. "and I heard that watching the sunrise and getting fresh air could help clear your head, so I thought... maybe it would help me, too."

You turn towards him, tilting your head slightly, admiring the way the thin threads of sunlight catches in his hair, like there's a halo of soft gold surrounding him.

"Has it been working so far?" You ask gently, voice barely a whisper.

Seungkwan chuckles quietly and turns to meet your eyes. Admittedly, it's been helping so far; somehow, his mind feels a lot more clearer, his heart a bit lighter, but it's especially apparent when he gets to share these moments with you. Maybe you're secretly part of the reason that the sunrise feels so hopeful right now, or that the world feels a little brighter this morning. Then again, when do you not have that power?

"I think so. It's... really healing being out here," he replies with a hint of a smile, gaze lingering on you for a moment before returning to the sunrise. His voice is quiet when he adds on, "Especially now that you're here."

Your eyes widen slightly at his words, the warmth in your chest blooming even further. The silence between you remains comfortable, punctuated only by the soft chirping of birds waking up and stirring in the distance. You steal another glance at Seungkwan, noticing the way his eyes are glued to the sky, yet the corners of his lips are turned upward. He's so beautiful.

Stepping closer to him, you wrap your blanket around his shoulders as well and pull him lightly into your side. Seungkwan lets out a gasp of surprise, a wave of concern seeping into his face.

"You're cold, honey," he points out worriedly.

"It's okay," You interrupt, voice soft but firm as you adjust yourself so that you're standing behind him, letting your arms wrap around his waist comfortably. "I don't mind sharing."

The corners of Seungkwan's lips tug upwards when you snuggle closer to him. He leans back slightly, his head finding a comfortable resting place nestled against yours. A sigh of contentment escapes him, the sound warming you more than any blanket could.

"You didn't... have to come all the way out here for me," Seungkwan mutters quietly, voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry for making you worried and keeping you up."

You rest your head atop his shoulder, closing your eyes and taking in his familiar scent of closeness.

"You know I can't fall asleep without you," You whisper reassuringly, fingers absently tracing patterns on his hoodie. "But I'd rather be out here with you than warm and cozy inside without you. And worrying about you... it's kind of my job, isn't it?"

A low hum of agreement leaves him, vibrating soundly against your embrace.

There's a certain pressure that Seungkwan feels in his chest, but it doesn't feel suffocating like all the days before. Perhaps it's the weight of the world, or maybe it's just the comfort of having you so close that fills up his heart to the brink of overflowing. It's almost as if he can breathe, like he can float without worrying about falling because you'll be there to catch him. Whatever it is, it feels right𑁋it always has when it's with you.

He can feel your heart beating steadily against his back, with each breath that you take a gentle reassurance that you're there, and that you're real. And with the world still half-asleep as the colours of dawn paint the sky, Seungkwan finds himself feeling more alive than he has in a long time, like a dandelion freely dispersing its seeds into the vastness of the sky.

"Do you want me to leave you alone now?" You ask a bit hesitantly, softly, knowing that he also needs his own space to think as well. "I can go cook some breakfast for us and make some coffee for you? I know you're working later."

The thought of work makes Seungkwan's shoulders slump in slight disappointment, but he knows he should be going back and adjust back into his regular rhythm of life. He turns his head to look at you, a grateful look to his face despite the fatigue lingering in his eyes.

"Yeah, okay," he mutters, yet as you uncurl your arms from around him, he stops you. "Wait. Can I..."

He stops mid-sentence, finding himself just standing there as you peer at him, waiting for him to continue. Gosh, he doesn't know why or how you always seem to make him so nervous, so small, even though you're the one wrapped up in blankets looking all adorable and pretty yourself.

He feels his cheeks burn at the stupid question swirling around him. So instead of just asking, he steps forward, closing the short distance between the two of you. Your eyes widen in surprise, but before you can utter a word, he leans in, his lips brushing softly against yours.

It's brief and quick, but enough to send a jolt of warmth coursing through both of you. And when Seungkwan pulls back, you catch the way his head drops to the floor, and a smirk makes its way onto your face.

"Boo Seungkwan," You call out his name almost dramatically. "Were you just about to ask to kiss me?"

Seungkwan just shrugs, fighting the embarrassment crawling up his neck. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"We've been together for literal years, and you still get shy about asking for a kiss?" You tease, letting a finger playfully tap his nose.

Seungkwan playfully bats your finger away, a genuine laugh escaping his lips for the first time that morning, and it brings a jump to your heart.

"Well, I..." He scratches the back of his neck bashfully. "I don't think I'll ever not be shy around you, you know..."

If it's possible for your heart to burst, then that's what probably sends that giddy feeling to course up your veins and a grin so wide it threatens to split your face in two.

"You're so damn cute," You say, leaning back in and placing another kiss to his lips. "When we get married, I'm writing in my vows that I promise to always tease you about this until the day I die."

Seungkwan lets out a choked laugh. "Marriage? Is that what I think you just said?"

A playful smile dances on your lips.

"Maybe," You drawl simply, enjoying the way his expression seems to fluster up even more. "But that's a conversation for another day, isn't it?"

Seungkwan blinks in surprise. He opens his mouth to respond, but the words seem to escape him as he searches your eyes and the silly grin to your face for any hint of a joke. When he finds none, he lets out a nervous chuckle, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and anticipation.

"Yeah," he murmurs shyly. "It is."

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @rozisisme @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim

[yxngbxkkie]

touchy (b.c)

hi, hi!! i know it's been a while since i've posted. i'm trying to pump out ideas, but my writing motivation has gone down a bit. but i saw a tik tok earlier and thought of this short idea 🫢 i absolutely need this man, and i hope you guys enjoy this 🩷

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

You can hear Chan watching Jujitsu Kaisen from the kitchen, a chuckle leaving your lips after hearing his gasps. You really love how immersed he gets when watching shows and movies. It's really cute.

“Chan, baby?” You call out to him, poking your head out towards the living area. “Can you grab the drinks?”

He pauses the show before sprinting up from the couch. He glides a hand across your lower back as you place an even amount of ramen into two bowls. Chan hums while standing behind you, inhaling the scent of the food.

“It smells so good, baby,” he whispers into your ear, gently squeezing your hip.

The tips of your ears begin to turn red as you feel slightly hot and bothered. You thank him quietly, and he moves away to grab a drink for both of you.

You grab the two bowls and bring them into the living room, setting them onto the coffee table. You lower yourself to the floor afterward, placing a pair of chopsticks into your bowl before setting another pair into Chan's.

“Thank you for the meal,” he sings while setting your drink in front of you.

He sits down beside you, his thigh brushing against yours. You glance up at him, smiling softly as Chan takes a sip of his water. His eyes find yours after, and the corner of his plump lips twitch into a smile.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Chan asks shyly, feeling a little embarrassed at your loving stare.

“I just love you,” you mention, leaning over to kiss his warm cheek. “And, you're so pretty.”

He giggles, dropping his gaze to the ramen in front of him. “Stop, you're prettier,” he mumbles, grasping his chopsticks.

Your heart skips a beat, and the two of you begin to eat. Chan resumes the episode, and the only sound that can be heard is the slurping of noodles.

Moments like this are your favorite. You would give anything to have more of them, but you realize how demanding Chan’s job can be. It doesn't take very long for both of you to finish, somehow timing it perfectly with the end of the episode.

You move to clean up when Chan stops you. “I got this, baby. Pick something to watch,” he assures you with a grin, handing you the remote.

“So sweet,” you sigh while shaking your head. He giggles and leans over to kiss your lips. The kiss lasts a few seconds, and you chase his lips after he pulls back.

“That's you, baby,” he says cheekily before grabbing the empty bowls.

You have to stop yourself from biting your knuckles. You've never been so in love with someone before, and you're glad that it's with him. A sigh leaves your lips, and you pull yourself up from the floor, laying across the gray couch.

You aimlessly scroll through Netflix, humming to yourself as you try to find something interesting to watch. The sound of Chan washing the dishes echo off the apartment walls.

“Channie?” You call out to him, looking at the horror movies. You hear him say your name before you start speaking again. “How much do you love me?”

The sound of the water running stops before his footsteps grow louder. “It depends on what you want,” he laughs, walking towards the couch. “But, very much, why?”

You look over your shoulder as he kneels on both sides of your legs. “Can we watch a horror movie?” You ask him, giving him your best puppy-eyed look.

“What?” He whines, turning to look at the television. His hands rest on the back of your thighs, and thumbs massage the muscle.

Even though you're wearing leggings, his touch excites you just a smidge. “Just one! I'll even let you cuddle me,” you wink at him, clicking on a movie that sounds good.

“You're so lucky I love you,” Chan groans before agreeing.

You giggle in excitement and press play, setting the remote onto the table. Chan gets up from the couch, tapping your legs to move them. You lift your legs up, allowing the brunette to sit before resting your legs across his lap.

As the movie starts, you realize it's not too scary. Which you're sure Chan is thankful for. You've tried to focus on the plot for almost five minutes, getting distracted by your boyfriend running his hands along your legs.

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling the butterflies in your stomach. Chan's hand moves to your ass cheek, gently squeezing it like a stress ball. You let out an involuntarily hum, biting your lip harder.

“You okay, baby?” Chan asks, his hand moving back to your thigh.

“I'm okay,” you whisper, not trusting your voice. You rest your head on your arms, your fingers squeezing your forearm.

You can feel his eyes on you as his hand strokes the back of your thigh. “Are you sure?” He asks again, a smirk etching on his lips.

You lift your upper half and turn to look back at him. “Perfectly fine,” you reassure him while his hand travels back to your ass. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his hands, and Chan giggles.

“Mm, okay,” he says and turns his gaze back to the movie.

Your eyes remain on him as his massaging continues. You internally curse and move your body. Chan's hands drop onto the couch, and his eyes follow your figure as you stand up. You straddle his lap, resting your hands on top of his shoulders.

“Do you have any idea what your hands do to me?” You whisper to him, closing the distance between your faces.

Chan smirks at you and gently presses a kiss on your lips. “I have an idea,” he mentions after pulling away, resting his head on the back of the couch.

He moves his hands up your sides, dipping his fingers beneath his shirt you're wearing. You wet your lips while combing your fingers through his curly hair. You lean forward to capture his lips in another kiss, needing to feel him close to you.

The massaging of your body continues, one of his hands slipping underneath your leggings. “You wanna take this to the bedroom?” He asks, gliding his plump lips along your neck.

You nod your head without hesitation, a staggering breath escaping your lips. Chan sucks on your soft skin, leaving a couple of marks. “Please,” you end up begging, tugging his hair to reconnect your lips.

Chan hums and removes his hands from your body. He grabs the remote from the table and turns the television off. After setting the remote back down, his arms wrap around your thighs before lifting you off the couch.

“I'm pretty glad I have tomorrow off,” he says as he carries you into the bedroom. Chan gently sets you down on the bed before slowly turning you over. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands glide up the back of your legs. “I can spend all night appreciating your body.”

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

[demetris-cocksleeve]

I think Tate should pin reader to a wall and fuck her. W me deserve a treat this Halloween season, and slutty Tate is such a nice thing.

(A/n: I think that's the best idea you've had yet. Slutty Tate is really all I need in this life🫠)

(Forgive the writing rust, it's been a minute)

(Not proofread)

(Pretend it's still October for me, yeah?)

Word Count: 1,611

Summary- Run, baby, run.

Warnings: Chasing, Unprotected Sex

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Tate Langdon x Fem! Reader: Run

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

"Oh, my fucking god, Tate!" You screech as you use the banister to make a sharp turn. Tate thunders down the stairs after you in that stupid mask he found.

"C'mon~" He rasps out. "Don't you wanna play?~"

You round the kitchen island, circling it to keep distance between you. His vocal fry makes your cheeks burn; the innuendo in his phrasing doing nothing to help the heat.

"Don't -" You cut yourself off with a scream as Tate all but lunges around the island at you.

And you're running again, through the living room, past the home office, until you spot the basement door in your peripheral. You shoot off towards it, ripping the door open and sprinting down the stairs. You use the support pillars to your advantage, losing him in the maze that you call a basement.

You can hear his heavy steps as he taunts you. Boot clad feet clicking and echoing through the dark room.

"Y/n~" He singsongs. "Come out, come out wherever you are~"

His voice is muffled by the mask.

You slip around the last outcropped wall and plaster your back to the brick.

A shiver runs up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck stands on end as it suddenly goes deadly silent. The only sound in the damp room is your ragged breathing that gets poorly muffled by your hands.

Why did you think the basement was a good idea? You've done nothing but effectively trap yourself.

You're a sitting duck down here. Your best chance at escaping him is if you can manage to get back up the stairs and make a break for the front door. In theory, it's easy. The door is just a few paces to the right of the basement. But this is a ghost you're dealing with - nothing is that simple with him.

Nonetheless, once you steady your breathing, you start inching your way back to the steps.

Thank the gods you decided to put off putting your shoes on; your socks make your steps silent as you scoot around a corner. Your eyes adjusting to the pitch black does nothing to quell your paranoia; if anything, it merely heightens it. The knowledge that you could turn your head at any point at be face to face with your pursuer has your heart frantically beating against your ribs as if aching to smash through the bone. The quiet roars in your ears as you strain to hear even the slightest shuffle in the dark.

Wait-

No. That was your pulse in your ears...

'Where is he..?'

Every step you take feels like it's being watched like a hawk, and, at this point, you don't know if you're just psyching yourself out or not. Something moves in the corner of your eye, but when you whip around, you're met with nothing.

'This isn't funny anymore...' your mind unhelpfully supplies.

Taking a shuddering breath, you make up your mind and call out into the pitch.

"Tate? Please, this isn't fun anymo-"

A hand covers your mouth, an arm snaking across your stomach to drag you back. You thrash, desperately trying to rip the hand off. Your protests remain muffled as your captor pins you face-first to the nearest wall.

"Gotcha~" Tate quips, his breath fanning your neck. "Are you scared, baby?"

So, he ditched the mask... 'Finally,' you can't help but think.

You shake your head despite the answer being an obvious 'yes'. You can feel his cock pressing into your ass, getting harder with each passing second.

"No?" His hand slips from your mouth to your jaw, tilting your head back, "Liar."

With that, Tate slams his mouth to yours, hungry and not afraid to satiate himself.

You know it's wrong. That being hunted down and caught shouldn't make you feel this way, but it does. It does. It makes your tummy get all hot and fuzzy - makes your head cloudy and hazy.

And Tate knows it.

He knows this dirty little secret of yours and loves to entice it. Because, just as much as you love the chase, he loves the hunt.

The arm around you slides down until his hand can slip into your pants.

"Not only are you a liar -" he murmurs into the kiss, "- but you love that you're scared. I bet you're soaking through your panties, too, aren't ya?"

His fingers finally reach your folds, easily stroking you with all the slick that's shamefully accumulated. "Knew it~"

Tate breaks the kiss and pulls his hand out. Lifting his hand to your lips, he barely has to mutter out an 'open' before you're accepting the digits into your mouth.

You can feel his dark eyes boring into you as you suck your own juices from his fingers.

"Good girl..." His thumbs along your jaw with his free hand before pulling his digits from your mouth.

Tate turns you around and pins you to the wall once more before leaning down to kiss you again. It feels like he's devouring you; eager to eat you until there's nothing left for him to take. His tongue slips past your lips, tasting all you have to offer and still some. It's when he starts to work at your jeans that you pull away.

"Down here?" You ask, as you attempt to catch your breath. Tate makes that easier said than done by shifting to focus on your neck.

You can feel the shit-eating smirk that spreads against your neck as he mumbles out a "Why not? You had no problem soaking your panties down here."

He belts out a laugh at your offended gasp and as much as you want to snark back, you can't deny that he's right. So, instead, you huff out an "Asshole" as you relax against the wall. Wasting no time, Tate shoves your jeans down until you're able to kick them off; after unbuckling his own, he hikes your leg up and lines his cockhead with your entrance with an almost evil grin.

"Tate, don't you fucking dar-" You're cut off with a yelp as he shoves himself to the hilt with one motion.

"You love it," he grunts. And you do.

He pulls out to the tip before thrusting back in. Again and again, he builds up to a frenzied rhythm as the wet sounds of your arousal echo through the basement and all you can think is how glad you are that you're the only one home.

You can feel the staccato of your heartbeat as it mirrors his trusts.

You can barely breathe with how hard he's slamming into you, but he still has you all but clawing at his back, so it's not like you can complain. He isn't much better with how he's basically growling into your neck, sucking and biting a pattern into your skin as he fucks into you.

"How are you still so fucking tight?" He groans out, grinding his cock into you before pulling out. Tate flips you around once more before pushing back in.

Your cheek scrapes against the wall with a few trusts before you're able to get your palms against it. Using your new leverage, you start to press back, meeting him trust for thrust as he draws out grunts and groans from both of you.

The hot, wet slide of him in your cunt has your brain going empty of anything but Tate and the growing need to cum. You can feel the steady build up, the tension mounting in your muscles as he guides you closer and closer to the edge.

You're not even sure what sounds your making; all you can hear is the heavy breathing and growled curses that Tate is releasing. His hands snuck up to play with your tits at some point and with each tug and pinch, your back arches more and more as electricity starts to crackle in your veins.

"God, I'm close," you pant out. "Please, Tate..."

You feel the tip of his nose trail up your neck as he inhales your scent. "You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" He mumbles once his lips meet the skin just below your ear.

He slips one of his hands back down to your clit, "Then cum."

With one last tug to the sensitive nerve, your vision blurs as you cry out his name. The static in your limbs shoots out, spreading through your fingers and toes and tosses your head back against his shoulder. You don't even register your legs going out until Tate's arm tightens around your waist, keeping you up as he chases his own release.

"Hold on, baby," He rasps, "Just hold on for me a little longer-"

The continued stimulation keeps your eyes shut as your forced to take what he gives. Any rhythm he had is gone as he pounds into your cunt like an animal; you could cry out in relief once you feel his hips start to stutter. And you do. As soon as you can feel the thick, hot ropes of his cum pump into you, the tears fall; the overstimulation makes your legs quiver, but ecstasy still hums in your veins.

You don't register the muttered praises Tate presses into your shoulder until your breathing evens out and your heart stops hammering in your ears. "You with me, Pretty?"

Nodding, you test your legs, finally taking the strain off of Tate, though his arm stays firmly locked around your waist. Blinking the remaining blurriness from your eyes, you turn your head to face him before getting pulled into a kiss.

"There she is," he whispers against your lips.

(3 years and I still don't know how to end smut🤪)

[sopejinsunflower]

a/n: so this was stuck too long in my WIP it might feel a little rushed at the end but  I’ve been in a slump for awhile so this is a small win to be able to finished. I hope you like demon Jimin. 

Warning: 18+, minors DNI, virgin reader, deception, a little Stockholm Syndrome-ish, death/suicide insinuated (this one’s dark, so please be caution before reading)

Summary: Having an imaginary friend is normal for most kids. What’s not normal is when you don’t outgrow it well in your teens. He’s persistent and possessive but when you meet who you thought was the love of your life, can you really deny your own heart? Even when he’s a demon lord?

Pairing: Park Jimin x you, Kim Taehyung, Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin

Tags: Demon Jimin! Yandere Jimin! Penetrative sex, controlling partner, deception, dom Jimin ofc because obviously this is supposed to be Set Me Free inspired.

Word count: 14k

FIVE

The small hand wrapped around the pencil made the stationery look twice its usual size, gliding over the white paper as the little girl scribbled, forehead creasing in concentration, tongue sticking out. 

“What are you drawing?” her mother asked, leaning over to see the purple drawing. It’s a little difficult to make out but she can see two stick figures, one sitting down at a table with pigtails, drawing something, the other hunched down in the corner of the room. The woman pointed to the figure with pigtails. “Is that you, sweetie?”

The little girl nodded, pigtails flying into her face. 

“And who’s this?” her mother pointed to the figure in the corner.

Without looking up, the pencil still moving over the paper as she added in more details, she answered, “Jimin.”

“Who’s Jimin? Is he your new friend from kindergarten?”

The girl shook her head. 

Her mother frowned, a little confused. “Oh? Is he one of the Kim boys? I forgot their names.”

Again, the girl shook her head. She finally stopped drawing and looked up to her mother, sighing as if annoyed she had to explain this simple thing. “No. Jimin lives in my closet, mummy. He doesn’t go outside.”

Her mother’s blood ran cold, the words stuck in her throat. She watched her daughter go back to drawing, not even realising the way her mother’s heart was going wild. She licked her lips and tried to calm herself. An imaginary friend. That’s all, she thought. “I see. I didn’t know you have a friend in your closet. Is he a little boy?”

The girl sighed. “Of course. He’s my age.” She paused, putting the end tip of the pencil to her lips. “I think.”

The mother breathed a sigh of relief. She stood up and ruffled the little girl’s head. “Okay. Well, make sure you two play nicely, okay? And clean up after you’re done playing. Got it?”

“Okay, mummy,” the girl said, going back to her little art. Just as her mother was about to leave the room, the woman heard the girl continue to talk. “Did you hear that, Minnie? We can’t make any messes, okay? Or I’ll get in trouble.”

The woman smiled bitterly to herself. Being a single mother is hard enough and her daughter having an imaginary friend only further proves how lonely she was. She just hopes the Kim boys will be good friends with her, enough so that she won’t need an imaginary friend anymore. New place, new possibility, right? 

Sighing, she disappeared into the kitchen. “Honey, we're leaving in ten minutes. I need you to be ready by then,” she shouted over her shoulder as she prepared the girl’s overnight bag for the Kim’s household.

THIRTEEN

“Give it back, Taehyung! Give it back!”

You chase the laughing boy around the kitchen island, grabbing an apple from the bowl, ready to lug it at his head when Jin appears around the corner and easily plucks the ribbon from Taehyung’s hand. He gestures for the apple instead and you exchange the items; throwing the apple his way as he slides the ribbon across the island. “Thanks,” you say to him as Taehyung sulks. “It’s good to know not all of you are jackasses.”

Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you before going upstairs to his room, leaving you with the eldest. Munching on the apple, Jin points to the ribbon. “Another award?”

You nod, suddenly shy. “Yeah.”

“Oh, which one?” he asks, intrigues.

“Jimin.”

Jin chuckles. “Don’t you draw anything else?” 

“I do,” you snap, the shyness quickly replaced with annoyance. “But the Jimin ones always come out the best. And why is everyone so pressed about what I paint?”

“Because,” Jin says, taking another bite of the apple, “you’re literally drawing a ghost. He doesn’t exist yet he’s so,” he waves his hand around, “vivid. Enough for you to paint him like that. You’re obsessed with him.”

“I’m not obsessed!” you retort. “And he’s not a ghost.”

“Right. Your imaginary friend when you were five,” Jin adds. “That you keep drawing even until today. It is a little weird considering the fact that you’re drawing him the same age as you.”

You shoot him a dirty look. “Aren’t you going to class or something?”

Jin laughs. “I am.” He picks up his bag and slung it over one shoulder. “And this is my house, by the way.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Fine. I’m leaving anyway.”

“I’ll drive you home,” Jin offers.

“No, thanks. I’ll walk. I don’t want to meet your college friends,” you say, hurrying out the back door before he can protest. You stuff the blue ribbon into your bag and briskly walk up the street to your place. 

“You’re angry. Why?”

“I’m not,” you huff out, keeping your eyes up front. 

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re lying to me.”

At the change of Jimin’s tone of voice, you finally turn around to look at him. His eyes have grown darker, pupils dilating to the point that the whites of his eyes are gone. The stormy look on his face is enough to scare you to admit the truth. “I don’t like it when people talk about you like I’m crazy.”

“Why do you care what others think?” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You don’t answer, looking down at your feet sullenly as you walk. 

“And what’s with Jin, huh?” he prods, leaning close to your face. “I told you to keep away from him. I told you to keep away from all of them.”

“They’re nice,” you say lamely. “I don’t know what your problem is with them.”

“They’re always trying to break us apart. I don’t like anyone who tries to break us apart.”

You remain quiet the rest of the way home because arguing with him is futile. He always gets his way, you think, as Jimin places a cold hand on your shoulder, his fingertips sinking into your flesh.

TWENTY

The world is spinning a mile a minute and the arm wrapped around your middle is only making you want to puke even more. 

Namjoon slowly places you across the sofa, making sure both your feet are up before he finally fully lets you go; gently, of course. He rushes to the kitchen to get a glass of water and an ibuprofen for when you wake up just as Taehyung emerges from the bathroom with a bucket to place by your side. 

You’re murmuring something, your words slurred, making it hard for Taehyung to understand. He puts his ear close to your mouth, listening hard in case you’re telling him something important. 

“What’s she saying?” Namjoon asks as he comes back in. He places the glass of water on the coffee table and the painkiller tablet next to it. “Damn, maybe we should’ve gone easy for her first time drinking.”

Taehyung shrugs, motioning for him to stay quiet. 

“Jimin,” you mumble through barely opened lips. “Don’t hurt them.”

Taehyung backs away, eyebrows raised all the way up. He turns to his older brother. “She’s calling for Jimin.”

Namjoon’s face clouds over, frowning in concern. “I thought she'd gotten over that phase years ago.”

  “Jimin, Jimin,” you call out, your voice growing louder, somewhat distraught. Taehyung and Namjoon exchange glances, unsure of what to do. Just as it suddenly started, you become quiet, breathing evens out as you sleep. Occasionally, your forehead creases over like you’re having a bad dream but the two brothers are just relieved that you’re passed out. 

“That was” Namjoon says, “unnerving.”

Taehyung gently pushes back your hair from your face, subtly caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. He thinks Namjoon doesn’t see it but if he did the older one remains quiet. Taehyung stands up. “I’ve texted her mum. She’ll be home soon. Let’s go.”

“You sure we can leave her alone?” Namjoon looks unsure about leaving but he also can’t deny the unsettling feeling creeping down his back, like he’s being watched. 

Taehyung hesitates before answering, “She’s sleeping now. Should be fine. Come on.”

In the old leather armchair in the corner of the room, Jimin watches as the two Kim brothers walk out of the house, not missing the way Taehyung looks back at you before closing the door behind him. He had seen the way that boy touched you, had seen the way he had pined over you all these years yet you never listen. 

Jimin squats down next to your head, one finger tracing the outline of your face. “I told you to stay away from those boys but you never listen to me,” he whispers, his words piercing straight into your dreams. “And here you are, drunk from your first time drinking. Twentieth birthday and you spent it with them.” You moan, turning your head away. Jimin smiles but there’s no tenderness in his face. 

When you open your eyes, the room is pitch black, so dark that even the bed underneath you is invisible. You turn your head, trying to look around but one movement makes you realise that both your wrists are shackled to the bedposts, or what looks like the direction of where the bedposts are supposed to be. The iron chains clang noisily as you pull on them. Immediately, your heart drops. 

“Jimin,” you call out, your voice coming out weak. “Jimin, please. Where are you? You know I don’t like being here alone.”

“I know, my sweetness,” comes his voice from within the darkness. He materialises in front of you, standing at the foot of what is supposed to be the bed in his usual all black leather pants and boots. He’s bare from the waist up, his toned body on full display; something that’s never happened before. “It’s amusing that after all this time, you still haven’t gotten used to this place.”

“Get these chains off, please,” you say, doing your best to keep your voice soft despite the panic rising in your chest. Yes, you’ve been in this space before but never like this. Something is different. “My wrists hurt.”

Jimin tuts, shaking his head. “Not yet. They need to be on for now.”

“What’s going on? Why is it different this time?”

“Because, my love,” he says, walking over to your side, the echoes of the heels of his shoes loud in your ears, “today’s your twentieth birthday. It’s time for your initiation.”

“Initiation?” you ask, looking up at him. 

“Yes, love. Have you forgotten?” He places a hand on your head, the icy cold of his skin making you shiver to the bones. 

“For what?”

Jimin smiles widen, something that has never offered warmth for as long as you’ve known him. Something inside you withers in fear but you can’t deny the other sensation starting up like a fire being lit up at the sight of his beautiful face split by that awful, awful smile. Jimin kneels down on one knee, bringing his face close to yours. “To entwine your soul with mine.”

A dry chuckle escapes your lips before you can stop yourself. “ You’d have to be real to have a soul, Minnnie. You’re just a…”

The look on Jimin’s face takes away the words from your tongue. He knows something you don’t, something you’ve had a hunch about all these years yet had been too stubborn or too scared to actually make yourself face it. With a blink, Jimin’s eyes turn jet black and your breath is stuck in your throat. “What are you?”

Jimin lets out a laugh, a loud belly-aching, rumbling laugh that seems to echo all around the space as he throws his head back. It’s not a nice sound and yet he never ceases to look just as mesmerising as always. The contradiction is throwing you off. 

“Fifteen years and only now you’re asking,” says Jimin when he finally stops, looking down at you with such pity. “I think it’s too little too late, my sweetness.”

You gulp tightly around the lump in your throat. “And what if I refuse? To do the initiation?”

The smile is quickly wiped off his face and suddenly he’s on top of you, straddling your chest but not really sitting. He leans his arms over the wall behind you, sneering down at you in a way that strikes both fear and anticipation of what he can and will do, making your stomach turn in a somersault. “It’s not a choice, love,” he hisses, his breath hot on your cheek. “I will have you, one way or the other.”

The menacing tone of his voice makes your heart beat faster. “Wh-what do you mean? Jimin, you’re scaring me,” you stutter out, the chains around your wrists rattling ominously. “I want to go back. Take me back, Minnie.”

“I will, just not right now,” he purrs into your ears. “Honestly, I’m hurt. Your twentieth and you celebrated with others, the Kim brothers no less. And you ignored me the whole night.”

“They threw me a surprise birthday party,” you counter, pleading. “How can I just walk away? They’ve been nothing but nice to me. They’re like my own brothers. They took care of me when my mother wasn’t around.”

“I took care of you!” he bellows, his eyes burning red this time. “I kept you company all of those times you’d cry yourself to sleep missing your dear mummy. I chased away all the bad dreams at night, I stayed with you every night when you couldn’t sleep without a night light on. Not them! They just swoop in when you move into a new place, free babysitting for your neglectful mother. They did all the easy work.”

You can’t help the way your throat constricts from being yelled at, something Jimin, in all his sadistic traits, had never actually done. Jimin sees the way your face crumples as you bite on your upper lip to keep them from wobbling and he cools off a little. He leans his forehead against yours, his dark fringe falling over his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated. You ignored me at the party.”

Your heart jumps at the sight of him sad. You try to touch him but your wrists are still bound, clanging the chains noisily when you move. “I’m sorry, Minnie. I- I got carried away. I was overwhelmed. There were so many people. You know I won’t ignore you on purpose, Minnie.” 

Jimin stares into your eyes, that same puppy-like look still swimming in his gaze, the kind of look that melts you so easily. It effectively wrecks you with guilt whenever you do something he doesn’t approve of, an ammo he’s used over and over again throughout the years. You lean into him as best you can with the chains’ restriction. “You believe me, right? Minnie? You know I need you.”

“Do you? After all these years, I’m starting to think you’ve forgotten that promise you made me,” he says, visibly pouting, sounding the saddest he had ever been. “You promised me that you won’t ever leave me if I keep the monsters away.”

You lick your lips and nod. Yes, you remember that promise, made when you were five, that first night he climbed out of your closet last, after all the other shadows came out first. In return to keep you safe from the others, you made that promise that only a child could. 

“I’ve kept the monsters away, haven’t I?”

You nod. 

“I’ve kept you safe every night from then on, haven’t I?”

You nod again.

“And so why do you choose the brothers over me?”

You swallow, shaking your head. “I don’t. I choose you.”

The corner of Jimin’s lips twitch. “You do?”

You give a small nod. 

“Really? I’m not convinced,” he states, readjusting his position, sitting a bit lower so that he rests on your pelvic bone. 

“I do,” you whisper out, feeling the heat creeping up from your waist down. It’s an odd feeling, something that has never happened before. 

Jimin’s more of a childhood friend, imaginary as he is. You both grew up together, just you and him against the world when your world had been so dark and so lonely, back when your mother would leave for work before the sun had even risen and come home when you’re already asleep. He was your saviour first then a friend, a protector and a companion but somewhere between being a tween and when puberty hits, he became a deep, dark secret. 

No one could see him and after enduring being called a liar and ostracised in the first grade, you learnt the hard way to keep your mouth shut and pretend he wasn’t there following you everywhere you go when in public. You told everyone that Jimin had disappeared, that you had outgrown him just as any children with their own imaginary friends. Only the paintings remain. In truth, you’re not even sure why you painted him in the first place but those paintings are the only times when people would actually listen when you talk about him. In the past tense, of course. 

Jimin is beautiful. He’s ethereal and your paintings of him were haunting. They evoke emotions from those who see them, making them pause and stare and weep if they look too long. You don’t paint him a lot, only five among the hundreds of canvases, one for each time Jimin had brought you into this dark space you don’t have a name for, yet they attracted the most attention, so much so that you got a full ride to the Royal College of Art. But Jimin won’t let you go. 

Jimin grinds onto you, leaning over so his face is inches from yours. “You do what? Give me the full sentence, love.”

Your throat is dry but you force your voice out anyway. “I choose you, Jimin.”

“Always?”

You whimper as he presses his crotch against yours, the sneer back on his face. “Always.”

The first time Jimin brought you into this space, you were six. It was an escape, a quiet safe space from the raging storm outside and your mother was still not home. You two had huddled together. The second time was at twelve, when your mother’s boyfriend of 6-months kept creeping into your room at night. Jimin had been furious then and while you hid in this space, Jimin promised you he would tell the man to stay away. He never returned to the house since and though your mother cried for his disappearance, claiming that she’d been ghosted, whatever that meant, you had been the happiest.

At fourteen, when the boy you thought you liked, asked you out as a prank for the whole class to laugh at you, the dark space was where you ran to hide, sobbing into Jimin’s embrace. It had been at the end of the school year but when the new semester started, the boy and his family had left town so suddenly that people only heard about it two weeks after. Taehyung had said, “Good riddance,” and even though you were relieved, it had felt too coincidental.

It was at sixteen when the hunch came about, growing in the pit of your stomach like some kind of fungus. A family had just moved in next door and they had a son, Adam, a year older than you; shy and sweet-seeming the first time he came around with his parents, exchanging pleasantries and jokes with your mum at the front door. They moved in the middle of the year and your mum had assured Adam that you would show him the ropes at school, to which you had obliged. Both you and Taehyung had gladly taken him under your wings, including him into your fold of friend group (which included only you and the Kim brothers, really). 

It took him less than three months to finally show his true colours. He had broken into your house when nobody was home and when you came back from your part-time job at the yoghurt shop, he had sprang out from the closet and pinned you to the bed. You don’t remember the rest of the details, except seeing Jimin looming behind him. You blinked and you were in the dark space, away and safe from danger. The next morning, his parents found him hanging in his closet, stiff and blue. They moved away shortly after that.

“I prefer you being here with me, mind, body and soul,” drawls Jimin, pulling you back to the now. “Where did you go?”

You’re pulled away from your train of thoughts and see Jimin leaning over you, eyes black, anger written all over his face. “Sorry,” you whisper. 

“You’ve chosen me,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Act like it.”

He grabs your sides, nails digging into your flesh and you wince in pain. “I’m sorry, Minnie. I’m here. With you.” You take a deep breath. “Mind, body and soul.”

“As you should,” he says, his voice softening. He nuzzles your neck and you feel his teeth nip just along the collarbone. “Tonight, you will officially be mine.”

You feel his hands move slowly to your chest, softly kneading your breasts while his mouth never leaves your neck. You feel him press himself flat against you, the bulge in his pants so prominent you can feel the shape of him. You lay there, frozen, unable to say no nor even move away. Your heart is in your mouth and you’re too afraid that if you say something, it’s going to jump out and you’ll be dead. 

Jimin pulls away, staring directly into your eyes. The jet black orbs in his sockets reflect back your fear-stricken face but he isn’t fazed. He smiles and your stomach twists and before you can do anything (not that you are capable anyway), his lips are on yours and it feels like your whole body is on fire, and not the good kind either. Your lips feel like someone had stuck live wires directly to them and the burning pain makes you scream out, muffled by his mouth. Tears pool in your eyes.

Then you feel his tongue snake in and your eyes widen in surprise: a forked tongue. You struggle to get away but Jimin holds the back of your head in place, grabbing a fistful of your hair. The chains around your wrists clang noisily next to your ears as you start to squirm under him. Squirm as you are, your mouth seems to be reacting the opposite way; moulding with his like they want to be fused together; you both want him and are disgusted by him, lips pulling him in, body resisting. He finally pulls back, displeased.

“I want to go back. Please,” you sob, unable to hold back the tears anymore.

“We’re not done yet,” he says, forked tongue catching the tears. “I haven’t even started, my sweetness.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Start?”

“The initiation, you silly goose.” He continues to lick down your neck, catching your earlobe in between his teeth. 

You swallow hard. “Jimin, what is the initiation?”

“You have to give me something you’ve never given anyone else before,” he whispers into your ear and the hairs on your neck and arms stand on end. He moves to the other ear to add, “Your virginity, my love. Your one and only. It shall be mine.”

Jimin’s fingers unbutton your jeans and just as he’s about to shimmy it down, your brain clicks and you finally yell out, “Wait!”

Jimin lets out a growl, raising only his ember eyes to glare at you. “What?”

You’re breathing hard as your mind races to try and find a good excuse. You’ve never even had a boyfriend, never even got the chance to go on a first date. While your female friends, limited in number as they are, gushed about their partners, about the things they would do, about the sweet little gifts they’d get on Valentine’s, you had smiled and been happy for them, doing your best to ignore the bitter feelings clawing at the back of your throat. 

You’ve had suitors, of course, but for some reason they never stick around. They’d ask you out but then stood you up when you arrived with not even a text to explain or apologise. If they managed to get past the first date, you never hear from them again after it ends. You’re only twenty, your whole life is ahead of you. It’s stupid but you want your first time with a man to be special. You want to be loved up, taken out on dates, wooed off your feet and be promised the world even if it’s all a lie. 

Jimin is looking at you, head tilted to the side. “You want all that?”

You stare at him. “Huh?”

Jimin frowns. “All the things you were thinking about just now. You want all that?”

 “How-”

“Just answer the question,” he snaps impatiently.

You nod, unable to say the words. Jimin sighs, tilting his head upwards like he’s facing with a minor inconvenience. “But why? It’s such a waste of time.”

“I-,” you stutter but clear your throat and try again, although your voice comes out small. “I’ve never experienced it. I want to know what it feels like. All this time I’ve only ever seen others go through it and I just…I just want to know what it feels like. To fall in love and to be loved.”

When Jimin doesn’t say anything, you quickly add, “I won’t…I won’t have to sleep with the person. I can tell them I’m waiting for marriage.” At this Jimin snorts but you ignore him. “Just…just let me experience all that and then you…you can have my…my everything.”

You’re not sure what Jimin will say but he looks like he’s actually thinking about it. “I promise,” you say, just to convince him. 

Jimin crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes going back to normal. “Okay, fine.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “Really?”

He nods, almost excitedly. “Sure. Anything for you, my love.” He leans down once again, caressing your forehead. “I’ll let you have all that. And after that, I’ll take what’s mine.”

“Thank you,” you whisper out, feeling elated. “Thank you, Minnie. I promise I’m yours.”

Jimin smiles. “That you are.”

You’re back in the real world, already in your own bed. Jimin is nowhere to be seen and he’s still not around the next day. A week passed by and you haven’t seen any sights of him anywhere, like he’s just gone. Like he was never there. It’s strange to suddenly be alone, truly alone for the first time in years but it’s also liberating. You’re free.

A month later, you’re starting to believe that it had all been your imagination after all, that maybe you believed in him so much so that you made him real. You spend more time with the Kim brothers, even get to travel to Europe to visit the Royal College of Arts with Taehyung to see if you’d like the place. You do, so you take up the scholarship and move abroad with him, although he goes to a different school. 

You made a lot of friends, went to a lot of parties and art shows. You painted a lot, too, and none of them of the man that haunted your youth. Even his face is a blur, memories that seem to be fading faster than normal and by your sophomore year, you’ve forgotten all about him. 

You travelled a lot, mostly around Europe, with different friend groups as well as the Kim brothers whenever your holidays aligned. You met a lot of people, went out on a million dates, experimented with different genders and even had a short fling with an up-and-coming actor, but the one thing you could never do was fall completely in love.

You’d meet someone you think will be the one but nothing ever survived past the third month. This time, it’s not them; it’s you. You just can’t seem to give them your all, pulling away the moment they fall. You don’t know why either and you have no intention of hurting people. So you stop, telling people you no longer have any interest, that you’re asexual, that you’re anything but normal so that people will leave you alone instead of trying to set you up or ask you out.

You miss the connection, you miss having someone to come home to, someone to be there when you wake up from another nightmare. But if you can’t give it your all, it’s only fair you don’t give anything at all. Thus, your purity remains.

 TWENTY-SEVEN

You finish applying the fresh coat of lipstick in the mirror, standing back and admiring the view, making sure that not a hair is out of place and your makeup is perfect. Satisfied, you give yourself a nod.

“Let’s do this,” you say to yourself, snapping your purse shut and fixing your skirt. You exit the ladies’ room and make your way to the meeting room. A new partner is coming on board and you, being one of the leading managers for the big project next month, will have to give a presentation to the man, a briefing to bring him up to speed. You take a deep breath and enter.

Your team and your boss, Martin, are all sitting around the big oval table. They look up and visibly relax when they see it’s you. You look around the room. “He’s not here yet?”

“He’s coming up now,” Martin answers, pulling out the chair next to him for you. He leans in to whisper, “Everything ready?”

You nod and smile. “Yes. Everything’s taken care of, don’t worry.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “We need to make sure he’s happy with this. He’s bringing in a lot of money.”

You bend down to retrieve the folio that you’ll be using when the door opens and everybody stands up. You’re still trying to pull out the thick papers from your bag as you hear a new voice greet the room. You freeze, confident you’ve heard it before. You pull out your materials and look up, seeing the new partner for the first time. 

He’s handsome, dark hair with a middle parting to his fringe giving him a boyish look. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his grey slacks as he makes his way around the table towards your boss. He extends one hand and then turns to you, the smile never leaving his lips. You take his hand and jump a little at how cold his skin is. “Jimin Park,” he says, his voice velvety pleasant, “Pleasure to meet you, y/n.”

The way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine for what reason you’re not sure. Have you met him somewhere before? Everybody takes a seat and the meeting begins. You speak for most of the time and Martin beams at you proudly at how well your presentation is. All the while, Jimin only watches intently, listening and nodding but not saying anything more than a few clarification questions here and there. He never stops smiling. 

When you reach the end of the presentation, the room gives a round of applause, and so does he, eyes never leaving you, that same smile constantly on his lips. You should be happy, you should feel accomplished that he seems happy, too, but a nagging feeling tells you that something isn’t right. As everyone gets ready to go for a team lunch, Jimin included, you finally realise what it was that bothers you so much. 

He’s smiling but it never reaches his eyes; there’s no warmth in them. 

***

“So, how long have you been working here?”

Jimin sits across from you, casually leaning back against his chair like he’s very comfortable, monolid eyes sharp on you. 

You clear your throat, shifting in your seat like you’re uncomfortable under his gaze. “A little over five years now,” you say with a polite smile. “Got in right after graduation and never left. They’ve taken great care of me.” You turn to Martin who  puffs out his chest proudly. 

“One of my best, that one,” your boss chimes in, pointing at you while your coworkers chuckle lightly. 

“I bet,” Jimin mutters, eyes still on you, but you think you’re the only one who caught it. “Well,” he says, louder now, turning to your boss, “you have me on board. Just let me know what support you need and,” he turns back to you, “I’ll do my best to give it my all.”

The table cheered and everyone fell into light conversation all around. All except you and Jimin, staring at each other, him looking like he knows things you don’t, a smug little smile on his lips, you, a little put off by how much attention he’s giving you. You think about telling your boss of how uncomfortable Jimin makes you feel but you’re a little hesitant that it might backfire since Martin is awfully fond of him. You wrench your gaze away from Jimin, finally, focusing on your food, doing your best to ignore the fact that you can feel he’s still watching. 

Weeks go by and you’re thrown into one of the most hectic phases of the project, launching in a couple of months. This is when your phones won’t stop ringing, business people coming and going from your office in constant streams and a lot of fuck ups with orders. You’re running around everyday, barely even sitting down, never mind to eat and it’s starting to show by the slight gaunt look on your face and how your skirt is barely hanging on your hips. But you love what you do so you power through. 

You’re on your hands and knees in your office, going through the white blueprint of the event hall spread over the floor in front of your desk, checking every minute details to correct before you send off copies to the vendors when a voice from behind you makes you visibly jump. “Nice view.”

You turn around to see Jimin leaning against the doorframe of your office,a coffee cup in each of his hands and a white paper bag tucked under his arm. You scowl at him, wondering what he meant because your ass would have been pointing in his direction when he said those words. You sit up on your knees. “That’s sexual harassment,” you say, your voice curt.

Jimin’s lips twitch but his eyes widen in surprise, whether genuine or not, you can’t tell. “I was talking about the venue. I’ve been there and those wide windows at the back will give a really great view of the city. The clients will love it.”

The scowl remains on your face but you move sideways so you can bend over the blueprint again, but this time, not ass presenting him. You hope he goes away, taking the hint that you’re busy. 

“Here. I brought you coffee and some sandwiches,” Jimin says, entering your office without asking for permission and placing the paper bag on your desk. The coffee cup, he holds it out for you. 

You glance at the cup briefly before nodding to your desk. “Thanks. Just leave it there. I need to finish this.”

“No.”

You pause, looking up at him in surprise and confusion. “Excuse me?”

“I said, no,” Jimin repeats; the same easygoing smile on his face, the same cold look in his eyes. “You need to take a break or you’re going to collapse before this project even finishes.”

You stare at him, contemplating on not satisfying him because who the hell is he to tell you what to do? But a steaming cup of coffee sounds so good while it’s still hot, rather than later when it’s lukewarm. You sigh and take the cup from him, standing up as you do. “Thanks,” you say again, much softer this time and almost shyly, mostly for being told off. You take a sip and immediately feel the tension melt away. You sigh heavily, tilting your neck this and that way, cracking them to relieve the stiffness.

“Do you always throw yourself into work like this?” Jimin leans against your desk, the rim of the cup at his lips but eyes looking down at the spread out blueprints and other papers all over the floor. And yet, it feels like he’s watching you anyway, from the corner of his eyes.

You shrug your shoulders. “It’s a busy time.”

“Really?” he asks, looking sideways at you. “You sure you’re not running away from something? Distracting yourself with work?”

You turn to look at him. “What are you talking about?”

He meets your gaze. “Oh, just wondering.”

You stare at him, incredulous, but decide not to answer him. “You should go.”

“Don’t you paint anymore?”

You freeze, looking at him like he’d just grown another head. Your heart rate spikes a little as you comb back through your memories, trying to think if you told him anything about your past hobbies. No, you don’t think so. No one in this office knows that you come from an art background, only assuming that you had graduated from the business school of RCA. You swallow thickly, subconsciously backing away from him. “How do you know I even paint?”

Jimin looks at you calmly, letting five seconds pass by before moving away from the desk to point at a picture frame set on it. It’s a picture of you and Taehyung on your graduation day, the Royal College of Arts main building in the back. “Oh, I just assumed that from that picture.”

“Most people assumed I came from the business school,” you say, your voice a tad bit shaky.

Again, Jimin looks slightly alarmed. “Oh, I didn’t even know they had a business school.”

Bullshit, you wanted to say but your mind is reeling.

“Well, from your reaction, I’m guessing I was right,” Jimin continues, languidly relaxing back against your desk. “So, my question still stands. You don’t paint anymore?”

You don’t like his tone of voice; condescending and smug, like he knows more than he lets on. You find yourself answering, “No, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t.” Then, on second thought, you add, “I can’t.”

Jimin tilts his head. “Why?”

Your forehead creases over as your eyebrows stitch together, struggling to keep your emotions in check because you hate it when someone questions your past. It’s always been one of the problems with prospective partners; they always want to know everything. And then get hurt when they do. But to Jimin, you square your shoulders and the look on your face hardens. “None of your business,” you snap, a little too harshly before regretting it. He is your boss after all. Sort of. 

“Is that how you talk to me?” His voice is low and cold, devoid of any of the friendliness he had earlier. 

You gulp. “Sorry, sir. I’m just- I’m a little stressed out right now,” you confess, not even sure why you are. 

“Go home,” he says, his voice back to normal. “Take a rest.”

“But I have to get this-”

“I’ll handle it,” he promises, pushing off the desk and coming over to you. In a few steps, he’s standing in front of you, toe to toe, too close for personal space, looking down his nose at you. He’s even more handsome up close, breathing down on you like you’re nothing but a child that needs to be put in place. “Go.”

You give him one last look before gathering your things, including the sandwiches he brought, and leaving out the door. You glance back only once at the elevator, looking at him looking at you, sipping on his coffee casually, one hand in his pocket. 

- - - 

You remember going to bed. You remember falling asleep. But you don’t remember waking up and being…here.

Where am I? What is this place? Everything feels so real, so vivid that you’re very sure you’re awake instead of dreaming. But there’s nothing here, just pitch black. You can’t see anything except for yourself, like a game character in a glitch where the world didn’t render correctly. You walk around but no matter how long and how far, there’s still nothing, making you feel like you probably didn’t move at all. 

If this is a dream, how do you wake up? Because this darkness and nothingness is unsettling, even more so when you can feel the cool linoleum feel under your bare feet but can’t see it. You stop moving, feeling defeated, hoping you’d wake up soon. 

“Hello, my sweetness.”

You jolt, turning around towards the cool voice and seeing the silhouette of a man a little further away. You squint, trying to see better who it is, stepping closer. “Who are you?”

“You know exactly who I am,” comes the voice and then, like a lighting on stage, his whole feature grows more visible. Jimin Park, your second boss. 

“What the hell?” you exclaim. “What are you doing in my dreams?”

Jimin’s mouth perks up. “You think this is a dream?”

You look around. “It’s the only explanation.”

You blink and suddenly Jimin is right in front of you, looming so close you have to look up to look at his face. You teeter and step back a pace. Like usual, he has that same smile on his face but his eyes, his eyes are different. They are jet black. “Still think this is a dream?”

You nod but hesitantly. You notice then that he’s bare from the waist up, toned muscles on full display and you think, So this is what he looks like under the suit. You can’t help but stare, unable to deny to yourself the arousing interest in your chest. A wet dream, you think, that’s why he’s here. 

Jimin laughs lightly, like he can read your mind. He leans closer and you half close your eyes, expecting his lips on yours. When it doesn’t happen, you blink your eyes open again to see a smirking Jimin. “Were you expecting something?”

You pull away, huffing. “No.”

A finger catches your chin, holding it in place as he makes you look at him. “You’re lying to me,” he says, his voice threatening and your heart races. There’s something familiar about his words, something familiar in the way you feel in his presence. The more you think about it, the more you realise that there’s a subtle fear of him. You wonder why because these past months, Jimin had been nothing but nice and a fair new boss to everyone.

Nice. But not warm. There’s always a cold edge to his demeanour, like everything is an act. Like he’s only pretending. 

The look in those jet black eyes is heavy and almost searing at the same time. You want to say no again, but something in the back of your mind warns you that he won’t take another lie and you wouldn’t like the consequences. “Yes,” you breathe out in a whisper.

“Yes what, my sweetness?”

Your mouth is dry but you force yourself to speak. “Yes, I was expecting something.”

“Good girl,” he coos and you feel his cold hand settle on your side, pulling you closer. “See, wasn’t so hard to admit it, was it?”

You don’t answer, feeling his fingers trace up and down your side, sneaking under your pyjama shirt and grazing your skin, making you shiver from the coldness and the anticipation. It’s a dream anyway, right? You can do anything in a dream. You tilt your chin up, looking at him through puppy-eyes and pouty lips. “Well?”

Jimin smirks again, only one side of his lips turning up. “As you wish.” He leans down and connects your lips to his and the searing pain shoots through your lips and down to your toes, making you moan into his mouth. Your eyes shoot open and you’re suddenly back in your bed, staring at your ceiling, breathing like you’ve run a marathon. 

You sit up, looking around the room but everything looks in place. The clock on your bedside table shows it’s three in the morning and you have to be awake in another three hours. You lay back onto your pillow but you’re too worked up to go back to sleep. Your lips are still tingling and you touch it gingerly with the tips of your fingers. You recall the dream, seeing your half-naked boss standing in front of you and you shake your head.

Ugh, you think, I have to get that image out of my head. 

The next day at work, you’re barely able to look Jimin in the eyes. You can’t help the image that keeps popping at the front of your mind every time you see him so you avoid him at all cost, leaving a room when he comes in, looking away when he’s talking to you. This continues on until the next week to the point that everyone else is starting to notice. Martin finally pulls you aside into his office one day.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?” he asks, steepling his fingers together on his desk. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you reply, feigning ignorance. “Is something wrong?”

He sighs. “You’ve been avoiding Jimin and even I can see it. Did something happen between the two of you?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. In truth, you’re replaying all of the dreams you’ve been having the past week. Every night, without fail, your second boss, Jimin, has been visiting you in your dreams, doing things you only wish he would do in real life, things you don’t even dare to admit to wanting. Every spot he lays his lips on burns like he’s made of fire and yet you crave it every time you wake up. “No, nothing happened,” you reiterate. 

“Are you sure?” he prods. “I thought you two were getting on well. He speaks highly of you, too.”

“He does?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. 

“Yeah. It’s starting to make me a little jealous,” Martin says with a chuckle. “I brought him in but it feels like he’s stealing away my best worker.”

You shift in your seat, ignoring the unsettling feeling in your chest. You laugh lightly along with him. “Don’t worry about it. He’s not stealing me away from you. I’m all yours, boss.” 

“Really?” 

His tone of voice shifts and dread fills your lungs. No, please no. He’s been so good to you and you have loved this job. Please don’t. Martin stands up and walks over the desk to stand in front of you, his crotch rightly aligned in front of your face as you sit there. You push back the chair a little bit. 

“You’re an amazing employee, y/n,” he says, his voice low and soft. “And I would like to make sure that you’re loyal to me.”

“Of course I am,” you say with a smile. “I’ve been here for a long time, haven’t I? I love my job and I would like to stay here as long as I can. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh, but I do.” He leans his hands on both the arms of your chair. “And with a new, young partner in the picture, I’m worried that he’s going to get all of your attention.”

Your throat is tight and swallowing is painful. “He’s-he won’t. I mean, you’re both my bosses so I don’t really have the power to say no if he has other projects for me when this one finishes.”

“Well then, prove it,” he purrs, his face up close to yours. “Show me how loyal you’ll be to me.”

You lick your lips. “But- but I have. All these years I’ve-”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he says, his eyes darkening. 

“Then what do you mean?” 

Martin smiles and steps back. His hands go to the fly of his pants and you think you’re going to throw up. Your skin feels clammy and cold and there’s a ringing in your ears. The office door bangs open, slamming against the wall and both of you look around to see in shock. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” says Jimin in a serious tone. If he knew what was happening, he didn’t show it. “But we have a problem with one of the vendors. I need y/n to help me smoothen things out.”

You spring up to your feet and excuse yourself, hurrying out of the door with Jimin behind you. You make a beeline for the ladies’ and shut yourself in a cubicle, breathing heavily, leaning against the door as if Martin might just burst right in. You lean your head against your arm, pressing against your eyes to kind of shake yourself out of the panic that’s building. 

“My sweetness.”

You look up, blinking at the sudden change of environment. The cubicle you locked yourself in has disappeared, replaced with nothing. Nothing but darkness. The voice that calls for you isn’t the usual flirt; it’s serious, solemn, commanding. You turn around to find Jimin standing there, this time, for the first time, fully clothed in all black. His eyes, though, are fiery red. 

You don’t know why you did what you did next but it felt like the right thing at that moment. You sob, running into his arms as he catches you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. He lets you cry into his shirt, caressing your hair and holding you quietly as your body shakes with every weep. It takes a while until you’re finally calm enough to step back, wiping at your face with the back of your hands. 

“I’m sorry,” you hiccup. “I just- I didn’t know what came over me.”

Jimin watches you, quiet, not saying a word until you finally look at him. “It’s not the first time you’ve run to me when someone’s hurt you, my love.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Huh?”

The fire in his eyes dim a little as he tucks your hair behind your ear. “You’re always so stubborn. You never listen. So even if I tell you, you won’t believe me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jimin sighs but the kind of sighs that tired people let out when dealing with annoying situations. “Still so stubborn. Never mind. What shall we do about him?”

Your eyes widen. Does he know after all? Or is this just your subconscious making him know what had transpired in Martin’s office? The latter, of course. It’s the only explanation. You’re dreaming again. Or hallucinating. The thought of what Martin had done resurfaces and suddenly you’re angry; angry at him but also at yourself for being such a fool for not seeing it for what it is even when he has been hinting at it for all these years. But why now? Why only now showing his true colours? 

You bark out a bitter laugh. “There’s nothing I can do. He’s the boss. He’ll get away with it or I’ll be asked to move away.” Then you start to nod your head. “Yeah, maybe it’s time for something new.”

“Go back to painting?”

You glare at him. “Why are you so obsessed with that?”

Jimin chuckles and changes the subject. “Well, if you want I can make him go away.”

You wipe the remaining tears from your cheeks but the anger is still there. “Yeah, sure. Do that.” You press your palms to your eyes, an act to rub out all the crying you did earlier but when you open your eyes again, you’re back in the cubicle. 

You step outside and wash your face, steeling yourself to leave the ladies’ room to face whatever or whoever is outside. You take a deep breath and open the door and Jimin is waiting on the other side, leaning sideways against a wall. 

“You okay?” he asks, approaching you. “Did something happen with Martin?”

You stare at him blankly, thinking back to that conversation, although imaginary, you just had with him in that other place. Thinking of what Martin did to you, or almost did to you, and the fact that you had been dreaming of your other boss nearly every day this week feels hypocritical. “Yeah,” you say, nodding. “Nothing happened. You said something happened with a client?”

“Vendors,” he corrected, eyes as cool and calculating as they always are, looking at you as if he’s trying to figure out why you’re lying, not that he knows that. Does he? “It’s fine. I took care of it while you were in there.”

You raise your watch to your face. “That soon? Are you sure? I can call them up again just to ensure everything is good.”

Jimin gives you a small shake of his head, a small hint of a smile on his lips. “Nope. It’s fine. All taken care of.” Something in the way he says the last part gives you a strange vibe, like he wasn’t talking about the vendor problem entirely. 

It doesn’t take long until news reaches you, literally on the 8PM broadcast on TV while you are eating dinner of microwaved pasta. The picture splashed on the screen is one you recognise well, having seen the man for the past five years or so everyday at work. The news talks about how, with the help of an anonymous tip, Martin J. Russell of Rocket Media Ltd has been arrested for multiple sexual offences, spanning years of sexual assaults of past coworkers with pictures and videos found on both his work and personal devices. 

Your fork drops into the container as you stare, mouth agape, at the TV. What in the-

As much as a part of you is singing with relief, another part of you can’t completely dismiss the persistent notion that whatever happened to Martin wasn’t coincidence, that it didn’t just happened right after he tried it with you and you had-

You stop thinking, standing up abruptly that your chair scuttles backward noisily. Jimin. Something about Jimin is squirming at the back of your mind but you can’t quite put a finger on it. Not a minute later, you receive an email from HR, blasted to all employees, requesting that if you need to speak to someone, you may contact HR representatives or a mental health hotline, as well as the office will be closed for a week due to the current investigation ongoing. All employees will have the option whether to take days off during the week or work remotely and either choice will have you be paid like normal. 

There is more to the email, including a subtle request for employees to keep their mouths shut except to authorities or HR and it makes you think about earlier today. Bile rises to your throat at the idea of having to admit what had happened today when you just want to forget about it all. Your phone rings.

It’s Jimin, now the one and only boss.

You take a deep breath and answer it. 

“If you’ve heard the news then you know why I’m calling,” says Jimin over the phone, his voice sullen. “I’m asking you again, did something happen between you and him today in his office?” 

You’re quiet, your voice stuck in your throat. 

“Y/n,” he calls, a warning tone. “I don’t want to have to ask twice.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you finally answer, your voice sounding breathy. “He’s caught. It’s done.”

There’s a brief pause before he finally speaks. “So something did happen.” When you don’t respond, he takes that as an affirmative. He lets go of a deep breath. “Take the week off.”

“But the project, we’re already behind on-”

“Fuck, y/n,” he snaps. “We have worse issues on our hands right now. Take the week off. I’ll deal with things here and the clients.” Then he sighs. “Have you spoken to the authorities yet? About what happened today? They would want to hear about it.”

“No. I don’t intend to,” you reply shortly. 

“Why? You’re protecting him?”

“I’m not!” Your blood boils at the accusation, your free hand in a tight fist on your side. “I just want to forget all about it. Nothing actually happened. He…he didn’t manage to do anything before you came in.”

“I see,” he replies softly. “Are you okay?”

You want to tell him yes, of course you are, nothing happened, right? You should be okay, you should be fine because you were luckier than his other victims, people you worked with and who you were completely oblivious to the suffering they were going through right under your nose. You were so ignorant of what was happening around you that you had respected the man, and had even admired him as an amazing boss. How many times have you gushed about the man? How many of those times had it been to a victim?

Fuck. 

Before you even realise it, the tears are already spilling, big, fat pearls crawling down your cheeks. You don’t manage to say anything when Jimin says, “I’m coming over,” and the line cuts. You’re not sure how long you remain on the floor crying, hugging your legs close to you when there’s a loud knock on your door. You can’t seem to get up, the few steps to the entrance area seem too much for you. 

You hear some shuffling around outside, hear the person lift up a flower pot and retrieve the spare key you hid there. You hear the sound of the key in the lock and doorknob turning. You see Jimin standing in the doorway, his eyes easily zoning in on you huddled on the kitchen floor. You watch as he strides over and picks you up so effortlessly and carries you to the sofa. He places you down gently and goes back to the kitchen. Ten minutes later, he’s back with a cup of tea for you.

He makes you drink it, sitting next to you without saying anything much, letting you cry it out. He remains quiet even when you’re hiccuping through leftover sobs, sitting there leaning on his knees, his fingers locked together, staring down at the floor. He only finally looks up when you make no more sound except for the occasional sniffles. “Better?”

You nod, taking a tissue to blow your nose. 

“Hungry?”

You shake your head but your stomach betrays you, sounding out like a dying whale at sea. He smiles softly, pulling out his phone. “Does Thai sound good to you?”

This time, you nod happily, eyelashes still glistening with tears.

You both only start to talk after dinner is finished and pushed aside, when Jimin, his coat jacket off and his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, had offered to do the dishes. You stand next to him to do the drying, making small talk, exchanging little information about each other’s lives. 

“You’re from Busan?” your eyebrows go up in surprise. “I’m from there, too.”

“I know,” he replies. “I read all the staff’s profiles.”

“I see.”

“Have you been back?”

You shake your head. “Not really. There’s nothing left for me there. My mum has remarried and the only family I have left are actually here.”

“Oh?”

You smile. “Yeah. Well, we’re not related by blood but I practically grew up with them.”

You don’t see it but Jimin’s eyes flash dangerously. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you say, “the guy you saw in the picture? That’s Taehyung. Him and his brothers are like brothers to me. Growing up with a single parent is hard and I was always stuck with them when she had to go to work. And she worked a lot.”

“So just them then? No one else?”

You tilt your head, thinking. “No, I don’t think so. Just them.” When Jimin doesn’t respond, you ask, “What about you? Any families around here?”

“Just one,” he says, eyes on his hands washing the forks and spoons. “We grew up together. I was always the one she runs to when she has problems and I make them go away.”

“Oh. That’s interesting.” You take the fork from him, drying it in between your fingers. “What’s she like?”

“Clingy and a crybaby.” He chuckles softly. “But I love that about her. I love being needed and I know she needs me.”

“She lives with you?”

“Not yet.” Jimin finishes the washing and dries his hands. “If you’re feeling better, I should get going. But…”

“But?” you look up at him.

“I know it’s weird timing but,” he pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “Would you, um, want to grab lunch tomorrow? Or not, if you don’t want to.”

You’re not sure about going on a date with him for two reasons: one, he’s your boss and two, well, with the whole shitshow happening at the office, it’s hardly a good time for a date. 

“Um, sure. I guess,” you answer, feeling a little shy. “If it’s just lunch.”

Jimin’s lips twitch upward. “Sure. I’ll pick you up around noon?”

- - -

That lunch turned out to be more than just lunch.

Jimin is funny and makes you laugh with his deadpan jokes and ridiculous punchlines. Underneath that cold and aloof demeanour, he’s actually sweet and caring. He plans things, takes you out on surprise dates, cooks meals for you and even gives you little gifts on random days, things that made him think of you. He makes playlists for you and even one of those classic mixtapes on CDs when he finds out your car has a CD player. He gathers small bunches of daisies when he finds out you love them more than roses. He surprises you with little things like your favourite tea or your favourite snack and takes candid photos of you to share with you later at the end of the day.

On days when you are watching movies together at your place, he would rub your feet and make cups of tea for you. He would listen to you vent or tell stories about your day. He’s your biggest cheerleader with work, walking that thin line between being a fair boss and a good friend and flourishing at it. When the relationship passed three months, you both decided to report it to HR. You were moved to a different department but you both go out for lunch together almost everyday.

You are completely and madly in love, for the first time ever at twenty-seven. He’s everything you ever wanted, everything you ever dreamed of even as a young girl. He sweeps you off your feet and makes you feel the most comfortable. He respects your wish of waiting a little bit more the night he sleeps over that first time, ending up just cuddling the whole night. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t make you feel guilty about it. You do a lot of the other things, kissing and going even as far as third base and not once did he ever try to push your limit.

 By the time you hit six months, he surprises you with a promise ring and you think it’s time to introduce him to Taehyung and the others. 

“What’s his name again?” Taehyung asks over the phone as you get ready for the meeting tonight. Both Namjoon and Jin will also be there, excited to meet your first serious boyfriend.

“Jimin,” you quip, the phone pinned in between your shoulder and ear, hopping on one foot to pull up the stocking over your knees. 

“What?” Taehyung’s voice comes out a little too loud, a little too panicky. 

“I said, his name is Jimin,” you repeat. “Look, I got to finish getting ready. You can ask all the questions later at the restaurant, Tae. I’ll see you guys there.”

“You ready, babe?” Jimin’s head pops in.

“Yes,” you answer, getting your handbag and slinging it over your shoulder. “I’m a little nervous. It’s the first time I’m bringing a boyfriend to meet them.”

Jimin laughs, pulling you by the waist. “Wait, you’ve never introduced anyone before me?”

You shake your head, pouting. “No. Nothing ever lasted long enough for me to do that.”

“I see.” Jimin twirls you around. “I’m honoured.” He gives you a little bow and you giggle. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll be on my best behaviour tonight. I promise.”

***

“This is Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jin.”

“Jimin, my brothers.”

The four of them exchange handshakes all around before finally sitting down, Jimin pulling out your chair, of course. The dinner starts with small talk, mainly the brothers asking you and Jimin the typical questions: how did you two meet? How did you guys get together? How did the company react to the news of the relationship? 

When the main course arrives, Namjoon switches gears by focusing the questions on only Jimin, asking his background, interests and his work. Jin adds in here and there but Taehyung remains quiet the whole time. He would stare intently at Jimin, frown and then look away. He would give you the same look, too, but he’s sitting too far away to actually ask you anything quietly. 

During dessert, Jin stares at Jimin for long enough that the other man notices. “Do I have something on my face?”

Jin shakes his head. “No. You just look familiar.”

“I don’t think we’ve met before,” Jimin chuckles. 

“Yeah, but I can’t shake this feeling off like I’ve seen you somewhere.” Jin tilts his head, narrowing his eyes. “Hmm. I wonder where.”

“Me, too, hyung,” pipes in Taehyung, surprising you slightly since he’s been quiet this whole time. “The name, too. I’ve heard it somewhere.”

Jimin smiles politely. “My name is very common, especially for girls, actually.” He gives a lighthearted laugh, squeezing your hand under the table, a signal for you to say something. 

“So, how long will you be in town, Jin?” you ask, diverting the group’s attention and it was enough to move away from the topic of Jimin. The rest of the night goes well and the both of you arrive at your place giddy with happiness.

Jimin heaves a relief sigh. “Well, I guess that went well.”

You beam up at him, both hands in his as you stop in front of the front door. “I think it did.”

He nods, gazing lovingly into your eyes. He pecks a kiss on the tip of your nose and you scrunch it up, giggling at him. He pecks another kiss to your forehead and you lean into him. Your heart is beating a little bit faster than usual, both nervous and excited for what’s to come next, what you will ask him for. You know he won’t, but you will. You think it’s time.

“Jimin,” you call him softly and he catches your lips in between his. You moan into him, feeling yourself melting into his front, his arms strong around your waist. He feels safe, like home. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he murmurs against your lips. “What was it you wanted to say, hm?”

“Well,” you say, suddenly shy, suddenly looking down at both of yours and his feet but you steel yourself and put on a brave front. He’s been so patient for you, you can do this for him. “Do you want to go inside for a cup of tea?”

Jimin smiles, his eyes giving you a knowing look. “I would love that.”

Inside, he insists on making the tea, telling you that he knows how to make it just the way you like it. You both sip the tea in silence at the kitchen island, exchanging glances over the rim of your cups like some kind of young teenagers flirting across the hall when you’re only sitting opposite each other. His eyes turn into little half-moons and you know he’s smiling behind the cup, the butterflies in your stomach kicking up a storm. Oh, you are very much in love and for a person at your age to feel like this for the first time, you think it was worth the wait. 

You both finish the tea and you take the cups and saucers to the sink. You can feel yourself vibrating with nerves, your hands shaking a little making the cups rattle against the saucers. You place them in the sink and wonder about how to go about it. Do you outrightly ask him? Do you bring him up to the bedroom without saying anything? Do you invite him as a heads up? Ugh, how come there’s no manual for these things.

Your hand reaches for the faucet but Jimin’s hand catches your arm and you feel him press up behind you, warm and strong. With his other hand, he gently pulls back your hair from your shoulder and pins a kiss at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Leave it, my sweetness,” he says into your ear. “We’ll think about the dishes later, why don’t we?”

You hum in response, closing your eyes and leaning your head back onto him, letting him kiss up your neck. You turn yourself around, placing your hands on his chest, feeling the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat against your fingers. You look up at him through your lashes, heart in your throat, shaking so bad from…you’re not sure which, excitement or anxiety. He seems to know what you wanted to say by the small smile on his lips but he’s letting you take the lead.

“Do you…” you trail off, not even sure what to ask. You try again, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you want to head upstairs?”

Jimin’s smiles widen. “Only if you take me there.”

A strong sudden urge to kiss him overwhelms you and you crash your lips onto his, roughly, desperately, wanting nothing more than to taste him more than you ever had. Your hands go everywhere; around his waist, around his neck, his chest, his arms while he holds you steady, moving backwards and somewhat blindly out of the kitchen with the two of you connected at the lips. When you pull apart to breathe, you’re already in the middle of your bedroom. Wow, that was fast. When did we climb up the stairs?

The bed is right behind you. Jimin leans his forehead against yours. “Are you sure about this?”

Your heart flutters, the anxiety now pushed aside by the anticipation building up from a place you’ve never truly explored. You nod your head once, breathing hard, your fingers fidgeting with a button on his shirt. Gently, ever so gently, Jimin lowers you to the bed, you in between his legs. You continue to make out, suddenly so very hungry for him, catching his tongue with yours everytime it slips in. 

You undress him, plucking at one button at a time, your fingers clumsy. He does the same for your dress, pulling it off little by little until you’re in nothing but your underwear and him with his chest bare. 

Jimin takes you in, nose flaring at the sight of you. You feel yourself shrink, making yourself smaller because no other man has ever seen you like this before. It’s daunting. Exciting, but scary. 

Jimin buries his face in your neck, his hands gently caressing your bra strap and then your side. “White lace,” he breathes. “Did you put these on especially for me?”

You don’t answer, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks. And other places. Jimin pulls back, sitting on his knees, looking down at you, raking his eyes from your head down to your toes. There’s a glint in his eyes that you can’t quite read but it makes you shiver. “You know,” Jimin says, eyes locked on yours, “some people say you wear white for your first time.” He chuckles, coming back down for your lips.

“I know,” you mumble. Jimin pauses to look at you, one eyebrow raised. “Because it is. My first time,” you say bashfully. “I…I hope that’s okay. For you.”

Jimin’s lips twitch upwards and you see a sort of change in his eyes. But it’s dark so you’re not sure. “Of course, my sweetness. Don’t you worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

The words sounded odd to your ears, a little too commanding, a little too smug. But the moment Jimin’s lips are back on yours, his hands roaming your body, touching in places no one has ever touched before, your head goes completely blank except for thoughts of him, of Jimin, your lover, the one you’re finally sure of surrendering yourself fully; mind, body and soul. 

You’re lost in the throes of heated passion, unaware that downstairs, inside your handbag where you left on the kitchen island, your phone is ringing for the third time in a row. Taehyung’s face is flashing across the screen because back at his place not thirty minutes away, while he lays across the sofa, wracking his brains about where Jimin seems awfully familiar, he had to scroll through his phone gallery. It had taken some time, going back years of pictures until he finally found it: the last photo of you standing in your childhood bedroom, leaving for the last time.

There in the background, placed on its side, is the forty by thirty painting of your imaginary friend, a blue ribbon tacked on one corner.

- - -

The room is filled with your loud moans, unable and probably don’t even care to keep your voice down because, fuck, his tongue feels so goddamn good. 

You fist the sheets on either side of you, legs spread open by Jimin’s hands on your thighs, keeping them from closing around his head. He has two fingers in your cunt, pumping hard, in time with the flick of his tongue against your very swollen clit. You can hear how wet you are by the sloshing sound his fingers make and that alone is arousing to you. You alternate between moaning with your mouth clamped shut but when it gets too much, your mouth will fall open and the room echoes your voice back at you. 

Jimin’s fingers feel so good, enough to make you feel full. In the back of your mind, you’re a little worried about when he finally enters you. How much would that hurt? He clamps down your clit and all thoughts escape through your ears, desperate to clamp your thighs shut but unable to. 

With his fingers still jammed inside you, Jimin crawls up, trailing wet kisses up your torso and then letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “So sweet for me,” he coos, licking his lips. He curls his fingers upward, feeling your walls squeezing his digits. “And so tight.”

You mewl, squirming under him. You fumble for his fly, pulling the zipper down and hooking your fingers around the waistband of his pants, along with his boxers. He helps you pull them off of him, wiggling himself to let the materials fall loosely to his ankles. You sit up on your elbows and Jimin brings his hip to your face. Your eyes bulge at the sight of him; thick and long, precum leaking from the tip, sticking straight against his stomach. 

“Open your mouth, sweetness,” he says, guiding your head with the back of his hand, sliding himself onto your tongue, hissing at the contact. “There you go, just like that. That’s a good girl.”

You place your hands on his thighs for support, eager to please. You may be a virgin but oral sex is something you enjoy giving. You start slow, teasing him with your tongue against his tip and only focusing on the head, sucking on it like your favourite lollipop. Jimin watches you through hooded eyes, hands on your shoulders. He lets out a muffled grunt as you flick your tongue against his frenulum, feeling the way his cock jumps from the pleasure. 

You push yourself down his length, slowly, gauging how much you can take him without gagging. Adjusted, you start to bob your head. Jimin holds your head, both guiding and sometimes pushing your face as low as possible before you start to protest, gagging and slobbering all over his length. You can’t see it but he’s grinning ear to ear. 

When he’s had enough, he pulls you up to kiss you, noticing how red your cheeks are, how your eyes see only him, and how your body is reacting to him. He gently pushes you down to the mattress, one hand behind your head. He leans backward to look at you. “How are you feeling?” he whispers against your lips. 

“Good,” you whisper back, squirming under him, arms around his waist. “I want you, Jimin.”

He smirks but in your haze, you barely recognise it for what it is. “I know. I’ve been wanting you, too. For a long time.”

You nod, thinking that he had meant these past six months. You’re clawing at him, lightly scratching at his skin as he kisses your face, lowering himself down onto you. You’re so sensitive that at the touch of his pubic bone against yours, you gasp. 

“Shh,” he says gently, thumb rubbing your temple. “Look at you. You’re shivering, baby. It’s okay. Relax. I’ll take good care of you.”

Something about his smile sends a shiver down your spine and instead of feeling comforted, panic bells have started ringing in the distance. Your heart rate spikes and suddenly you’re having second thoughts. You quell them down, fighting against yourself to backtrack now. No, he’s been patient enough. He deserves it. He’s the love of my life, there’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just nerves. Relax. Calm down. I want this. I want this. Right? You breathe slowly, nodding into his hand, desperate to find the solace you always feel when in Jimin’s presence. Where is it now?

“Jimin,” you squeak as he positions himself in between your legs, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs, massaging lightly as he presses your legs apart. You raise your head to look at him and in the dim light, Jimin’s eyes are so dark they’re like abysses as he looks back at you, a soft smile on his lips. 

You feel him pressing against your hole and slowly pushes in. It stings and you throw your head back, eyes squeezed shut. Jimin stretches you out and it burns so much it feels like you are being torn open from the inside out and yet…yet it feels so excruciatingly delicious. All these years of holding back, of never finding the right person to give yourself fully to, and Jimin feels both like a reward and a punishment, like it’s both wrong and coming home at the same time your brain is going fuzzy. You feel him bottom out but the pain isn’t going away and at the same time a tingle is starting from somewhere deep within you. 

Jimin remains unmoving, letting you adjust. The burning dulls a little bit but a fire has been lit up in the pit of your stomach. You wrap your legs around Jimin’s waist, pulling him close. You blink your eyes open and gasp. You blink a few more times but the sight that greets you never changes. Everything is dark. There’s nothing. You see nothing.

You look down towards where Jimin is in a panic but finds him grinning at you in a way that doesn't feel friendly. He starts laughing. 

“Finally!” he exclaims, running a hand through his hair, pushing his hair back. “Years of waiting and it finally pays off. Patience is a virtue.” 

“Wh- what’s going on?” your voice is shaking. “I don’t understand. What are you saying? What’s happening?”

Jimin leans down, arms on both sides of your head. His eyes are like two coals staring straight into your wet ones. “Oh, my sweetness. I let you have a little bit of freedom and you forget about me. But don’t worry. We’ll have all night to catch up.” He kisses you and your lips burn, moaning into him but he doesn’t relent. You feel his tongue licking inside your mouth and your eyes shoot open in alarm at the realisation that it’s a forked tongue. Just like that, the box of suppressed memories springs open and it all comes flooding in.

Pulling back, the same smug grin still on his face, Jimin whispers close to your face, “Do you remember now?”

Your eyes are like two saucers, staring back at him in horror. “No,” you shake your head, the tears creeping slowly down into your hairline. “No.”

Jimin’s lips spread wider. “Oh, yes, my sweetness.” He pulls out of you and starts to gently rock back and forth, ignoring your silent cries. The faster he moves, the more your body reacts, so much so that you pause in between the tears, confused. Your heart rejects him yet your body yearns for him, needs him to keep moving or you might wither away and die if he doesn’t. Your fists tightens around his upper arms, both in anger at the long deception as well as the desperation to let him know that you want more; more of him and more of what he can give. 

It doesn’t take much for Jimin to get the message, the latter one, the grin only growing bigger, the satisfaction palpable even in his two obsidian eyes. He leans down to your face, fingers softly combing back your hair. “I know you’re angry at me, baby, but you can’t deny me either. You’ve promised me yourself.” He kisses your cheek and the spot feels like your skin might melt away. “I’ve only come to collect what’s mine. Heart, body and soul. Well, maybe not the heart. Not yet anyway. But all in due time, my sweetness. I’m a very patient man.”

“You’re not a man,” you gasp in between strokes, biting down on your lip to keep yourself from letting him know how good he’s making you feel. You can feel the girth of him, the length of him every time he buries deep, can feel the delicious stretch of your walls hugging him. Jimin only laughs, a deep rumbling that vibrates straight to your core and with that, you release your lip to let Jimin hear you. 

- - -

When Taehyung arrived at your place at three in the morning, out of breath from cycling like hell, he was already too late. 

The house was empty, void of anything that ever proved that you lived there; no clothes, no photos on the wall, no shoes and definitely no you. Only furniture left behind and food abandoned in the fridge. The police insisted that you must have run away with your lover and your workplace had no clue who Taehyung was talking about when he mentioned Park Jimin, looking at him like he had lost his mind.

“She quit,” the receptionist told him with an incredulous look, turning the PC monitor his way. “See? She sent this email talking about finding something new. It’s all a bit sudden and the boss is pissed. If you hear from her, tell her never to come around here unless she wants her head on a platter. Personally, for me though, I think she got balls of steel. You go, girl.” 

Namjoon told him to quit worrying, that you’re an adult that can make your own life choices and take care of yourself. Jin just laughed when Taehyung showed him the photo of the painting from long ago, shaking his head and telling him he needs to get his eyes checked. Neither of them had any recollection of that dinner with Jimin. Except for him. 

It took him six months to finally calm down enough for his brothers to stop worrying that he might need some serious intervention in the form of hospitalisation. He spent his days at work, pretending to be fine while at night he scoured the internet and the dark web for any signs of you, barely sleeping, one wall of the spare bedroom at his place covered with any clues and hints and circled maps of places he’s searched in. 

- - -

On the other side of the veil, you watch your childhood best friend struggle to find you to death, sitting next to Jimin on the throne, your hand in his as his underlings worship his feet. 

As the dark lord of the underworld, Jimin lavishes you with anything and everything your heart desires, loves you like no man ever could and satisfies you every night like gods themselves are pounding into you. You smile when he kisses you, look demurely as he holds you and pulls him closer each night under the cover. 

You see Jimin in all his underworld glory; a king with a black heart, tattered black wings that spans six feet on either side when he’s enraged, eyes like the abyss when he’s staring deep into your claimed soul. You’re his; mind, body and soul, as promised. 

And yet…

Each night, you realise you’re getting better and better at slipping away without him noticing, coming back into the human world, into Taehyung’s spare room with the maze of threads all over one wall. You’re getting good at moving small objects, like a pen or a pencil. And even that marker Taehyung uses to circle cut up articles and places on the map. 

One day, you’ll be able to send him an SOS, a message for him to help you cut yourself free. But in the meantime, you’ll sit quietly in Jimin’s arms, pretending like you hate where you are, pretending like you’re not in love. 

Check out my other works → :MASTERLIST:

[harlowcomehome]

Hazel and Jade's damn cat:

You were tired of having this conversation, ignoring your husband as you continued to chase what was left of your breakfast around your plate. You were trying to be quick and finish eating before the girls were up for the day.

Jack continued to talk, you drowned him out by mindlessly scrolling on your phone.

“Y/N” he spoke sternly, as he poured his coffee into a mug. Finally getting your attention, he was growing more and more irritated that you were so clearly ignoring him.

“Jackman, I said no” you sighed, putting your phone down on the glass table louder than intended.

“Why? Jade has been asking for months. It’s almost Christmas and Lucky is lonely” he pointed at Lucky who was asleep in his dog bed without a care in the world.

“The girls hardly play with Lucky!” Your voice was louder than you had meant for it to be.

“Cats don’t need that much attention!” He defended speaking to you in a booming voice that made you shift around your seat uncomfortably.

He took a deep breath, worried the girls had heard you both and realizing he had upset you.

“Urban's friend has to rehome their cat and Urban has it right now…” He walked over to you, ready to continue the conversation as he sat down across from you at the table.

Jade and Hazel both sleepily walked into the living room, likely awoken by the argument between you two.

You however were silently thanking your lucky stars, wanting to avoid this conversation, as you ran over to them to tell them good morning.

Jack tried to hide his obvious irritation, running his hands through his curls before standing up to give the girls a morning hug and kiss.

“Daddy made breakfast, I hope you two are hungry..”

“Hungry!” Jade giggled, jumping up and down.

Jack walked into the kitchen, meeting you at the stove as you put food on plates for the girls.

“You can’t avoid this conversation forever” he whispered behind you.

“Jackman. Please!” You snapped, evidently at your wits end. You pushed past him, putting the plates down at the table for the girls.

“I’m going to take a shower” you numbly stated, going to the bedroom hastily.

“Why is mom grumpy?” Hazel whispered to her dad discreetly.

Jack stifled a laugh, “I think she’s just tired today bug. Eat your breakfast. Grandma is going to pick you up in about an hour.” He checked his phone to verify the time.

When you were out of the shower, you got both of the girls ready for their day with their grandparents, styling their hair and helping them pick outfits.

“Grandma and grandpa said we are going to go see reindeer?” Jade questioned as you put her hair into a ponytail.

“Yeah, they are taking you guys to the reindeer farm!” You nodded as Hazel sat on the bed in Jades' room.

“Were you mad at Daddy this morning?” Hazel was always good at picking up on things, which made it hard for you sometimes.

“I wasn’t mad at Daddy, I was just having a rough morning but I’m better now” you smiled.

The doorbell rang and Maggie came to the door to pick up the girls, both you and Jack giving them tender goodbyes and reminding them to use their manners.

When the door shut, you were fully prepared to ignore him, still running off fumes from the conversation this morning.

“No, I don’t think so” he stood in front of you, blocking you from moving.

“Jack- please” you sighed.

“Just talk to me! Don’t do this, communicate with me” his eyes looked down on you with so much emotion, that it was hard for you to stay upset.

“We can go see the damn cat! As in look at it! That’s it!” You rolled your eyes standing in front of him with your arms crossed against your chest.

He grabbed you, holding you securely against his chest. You relaxed against his touch, both of you muttering apologies for how this morning went.

Jack called Urban as you finished getting ready, and let him know you’d be stopping by.

Urban knew you’d leave with the cat once you saw it, but humored both of your differing opinions anyway.

Once you got to Urban's house and saw the sphynx cat you couldn’t help but giggle.

“I can just hear Jade now. Ahhh! It’s a naked kitty!” Jack mimicked as he sat down on the floor to pet the cat.

You looked at Jack and then over to Urban who made eye contact with you and smiled.

“You’re the worst Wyatt!” You playfully pushed him, making him lightly stumble backward and chuckle in response.

“So, are you taking her?” Urban grinned, handing you the pet carrier he had.

“We’re taking the damn cat” you laughed earning cheers from both men.

“But you’re on kitty litter duty for life. You’re the one who wanted her!” You turned to Jack who threw his arms up defensively.

“Fine! You got a deal Mrs. Harlow” Jack smiled.

You held the pet carrier in your lap the entire way home, peeking through the screen at the sleeping cat inside.

“You already love her” Jack teased as he drove home.

“I just hope the girls do and don’t think her hairless body is…” You paused “off putting.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind! Plus she’s not pink and hairless! Those kinda look like chickens!”

“Jackman!” You snorted, not expecting him to say that. You pointed to the pet store that was near your house, asking him to stop.

“Urban gave us her bowls and everything, remember?”

“She needs a sweater! Our house can get cold” you responded to him like he should’ve known that which made him laugh as he turned into the parking lot.

“Want me to go in?”

“Stay with her! I wanna pick the sweaters” You smiled as you hopped out of the car.

“Sweaters? With an S?”

“She has to have variety!” You stated before shutting the door to the car.

“Looks like you’re officially a member of the Harlow family little kitty. Best of luck,” Jack smiled as he spoke to the cat and watched you run inside.

When you got home, you introduced Lucky to his new friend. Lucky continued to smell her for a moment, skittish when the cat stretched its body out.

You let the two get familiar with one another while Jack set up her bed and food bowls.

“I can’t believe I have a cat” You stood there with your hands on your hips as you watched Lucky and the new addition curl up together.

“Jade is going to love her though” he smiled, truthfully not initially crazy about the idea either.

After a few hours, the girls came home and Jack stopped them at the door. You were sitting on the couch, holding the cat in your arms.

“Mommy and I have a surprise for you both but you have to be calm and use nice hands” he looked at Jade with the last statement.

Hazel already saw the cat in your arms, promising her dad that she’d be gentle as she quickly ran over to you.

“What is that?” Jade hid behind her dad’s legs.

“It’s a naked kitty!” Hazel giggled as she held her hands out to hold her.

“Why is she naked?” Jade was confused, looking up at Jack with a worried expression.

You giggled at her reaction, “She’s hairless. That's just how she looks. Do you want to put a sweater on her?”

You stood up and picked up the sweaters, handing them to her.

Hazel sat down holding the cat like a baby.

“Jadey!! She’s purring!”

Jade walked over to Hazel and sat beside her, she was still hesitant but more relaxed than she was at first.

“She’s kinda cute. She’s just funny looking!” Jade giggled.

“You’re funny looking” Hazel mumbled to herself making Jack stifle a laugh.

You rolled your eyes at your husband, and helped Jade put a sweater on the cat who meowed loudly catching everyone off guard.

“What are we thinking about naming her?” Jack smiled, waiting for the answer.

[thebiggerbear]

Follow Me Into the Dark Part 1 - Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: The last person you expected shows up on one of the worst days of your life. Why on earth is Dean Winchester here and why is he asking you about your connections to the deceased?

A/N: Here we are. Part 1. This was what I originally intended for the "Sleep. I"ll keep you safe" prompt response but I ended up changing it because this felt too long to simply be a prompt response or even a one shot and I couldn't bear to cut it down to try to make it fit. It felt like the more it took form as I wrote, the more it deserved a proper fleshing out. So, alas, a short story. It's just an idea that I really had to explore. Not gonna lie, this might get a little dark. Hope this is alright.

Dividers are by @firefly-graphics,

This would be taking place during season 15.

All unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: implied familicide; implied deaths of children; angst; heartbreak; grief; language (I guess?)

Word Count: 4814

Series Masterlist

You sat in the pristine living room and stared at the coffee table as people milled around you. You could hear the hushed whispers of mourning for them, pity for you, and worst of all, judgment and condemnation of him. If you could, you’d throw each and every one of them out of this house right now. But it wouldn’t change the fact that they were gone. Every single one of them…gone.

You glanced up and caught sight of a framed picture of your niece holding onto her baby brother, smiling wide for the camera. You would never get to hold either of them again, chase Thea around the house and hear her squeals of laughter, tickle Tanner’s belly to hear those happy gurgles that only a baby could make — never again. A tear slipped from your eye that you quickly wiped away. 

You were just about to get up and head into the kitchen to try to escape the harpy on your right, loudly whispering about how she’d always known something was off, when two tall men wearing suits entered your vision. Your eyes widened when you recognized one of them, and his expression mirrored your shocked one.

“Dean?” You asked in disbelief. You felt as if you had been sucker punched. Of course, on the absolute worst day of your life, he would show back up. The universe clearly had it in for you and wanted to destroy whatever little piece of you that was left. It had already brought you to your knees but that wasn’t enough. As if you weren’t already hollow inside…it wanted to finish the job.

The taller man to Dean’s left glanced back and forth between you. “Uh, do you two know each other?”

Dean looked at a loss for words for a moment but managed to answer with “You might say that.”

Seeing your face, Dean immediately looked apologetic. No, you couldn’t do this. Not today of all days. Not here, not now. “Right,” you muttered before making a hasty retreat to the kitchen as you’d planned to do prior to their arrival. You didn’t even bother looking back. Hopefully, Dean and his friend would just leave.

You busied yourself with doing the dishes; you figured you’d get a head start on them now. A kindly neighbor had offered to do them but you shook your head and took over, not saying a word. Thankfully, whoever had been in the room had vacated it, giving you your space. You were grateful because you weren’t sure if you could take one more “I’m so sorry, dear” or “Did you have any idea?” You threw yourself into the mundane chore, opting not to use the dishwasher next to you. You needed the distraction, to focus on something other than how you were broken inside. You did your best not to cry when you came across the coffee cup your sister-in-law had helped Thea to make for Father’s Day this year. It was similar to the “Best Aunt Ever” one they’d sent you for your birthday.

Several dishes later, you heard a quiet throat clearing behind you but you refused to turn around to look or stop what you were doing. You knew who it was; you’d practically felt him walk into the room.

“Listen, Y/N, I’m sorry if—”

“Why are you here?”

That question seemed to throw him off guard. Good. “I wanted to say I’m—”

“No,” You cut him off before he could finish saying the two words you now hated with a passion. God knows he’d said it enough to you before he’d left you in the dust back in Sedona. “Why are you here?”

“We— I mean, my brother and I, we were in town and—”

You spun around, your eyes wide. “That was Sam?”

He gave you a nervous yet proud smile. “Uh, yeah. That’s Sammy.”

After a moment, you nodded and went back to doing the dishes. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that Dean had moved closer, looking unsure and slightly fidgeting. 

“So you… You knew the family?”

You stopped for a moment, thinking maybe you didn’t want to have this conversation that he seemed intent on having. You’d closed the book on him years ago and there was no reason to rehash any of it. It was the same old story anyway: girl meets boy; girl has incredible sex with boy; girl spends a few weeks holed up with boy; girl falls hard for boy and makes the mistake of telling him; boy immediately breaks her heart by telling her he doesn’t feel the same and then leaves girl behind to deal with the fallout of a shattered heart alone. Definitely nothing to rehash there. “You never answered my question. Why are you here?”

“Sam and I were in town and we just happened to see an article online about what happened.”

You huffed out a snort as you slipped another wet dish into the drying rack. “Article online about what happened…” 

“I meant that we—”

The anger that had been simmering all day suddenly started coming to the surface as you replayed his words over and over in your head. “Is that what you and Sam do? Look around for funerals to crash and poke around because you and your brother have some morbid curiosity you need to satisfy? To set up your next true crime podcast or YouTube channel? What?” 

“What? Podcast? No. That’s not what I—”

“You know what, Dean, I don’t even care. Just take your brother and get out. I have enough to deal with today without you screwing up my life yet again.” How dare he? He was definitely not the man you remembered. Or maybe he was; maybe he was the man who had used you and left you behind without once looking back.

He laid a gentle hand on your shoulder but that was it. “Y/N, I didn’t mean—”

You shirked his hand off. “Just go,” you yelled, feeling a sudden rush of fury charge through you. “That’s what you’re good at! Just leave, Dean, and don’t look back!” At the same time, the glass in your grip suddenly shattered, making you gasp as red rivulets began to run down your palm.

Dean was suddenly there with a dish towel, gently cradling your hand as he slowly pulled a small shard of glass out, making you hiss in pain. He then ran your hand under the water, eliciting another pained hiss, before wrapping the towel tightly around your hand. “There a first aid kit here somewhere?”

“In the bathroom, I think.”

Dean glanced over to where you gestured and nodded. “Alright, hold this tight and take a seat. I’ll be right back.” You did as he instructed, quietly thinking over what just happened. Dean was incredibly focused and on it, no hesitation, but that wasn’t what gave you pause. Where did that spike of anger come from? And more disturbingly, why did you have the strongest urge to throw that glass at him before it actually broke in your hand? You weren’t a violent person by any means; you never put your hands on another person, never had the urge to. Sure, you’d imagined slapping a guy that deserved it when he got too handsy while being an arrogant jerk one time but you never actually felt the burning impulse that you felt just before. You glanced over at the photo mug in the drying rack and tears sprang to your eyes as you felt your heart break yet again (how was there anything left to break at this point?) when you realized maybe you actually were that type of person after all. The very worst sort of person that had some darkness or bad inside them that was lying dormant waiting for the right victim to come along so you could unleash it on them.

You tried to shake the hopeless thoughts from your head. You knew that was your shock, grief, and misery speaking. Instead, you changed the lens to a logical one and began to explain away what had happened. Perhaps it had been Dean’s words or his very appearance. Or it could be what had happened and why you were here today. Or maybe it was even a combination of everything. The glass you had broken hadn’t been light, sure, but perhaps there had been a crack in it before that you hadn’t noticed. And it absolutely made sense that you were lashing out at Dean. He had shown up out of nowhere and began asking questions because of an article he’d read online, not even one of them being a simple ‘how are you?’. He hadn’t seen you in years and while he might not have known exactly who you were in relation to this situation, you were here for a funeral and you were washing dishes, everyone was trying to give you their condolences and watching you with pity — didn’t that account for something in his mind?

You didn’t have much more time to think on it when Dean suddenly reappeared with the first aid kit in hand. He laid it down on the table in front of you and slipped his jacket off, throwing it over the back of an empty chair. He quickly rolled up his shirt sleeves and took the seat next to you, gently taking your hand and carefully unfurling your fingers. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.”

You watched as he studied the slice in your palm. “Not too deep,” he approved. He then began checking your skin for any other glass fragments or cuts. When he determined you were good, he began to soak a cotton ball with peroxide before turning a wide smile on you. “Did you hear the one about the priest and the cop?”

Your brows furrowed. He was now trying to make jokes? Seriously? Not to mention, no, you’d never heard of that one nor did you want to. “The priest and the—” You let out a loud hiss and you dug your teeth into your bottom lip. “Fuck,” you painfully whispered. 

You moved your gaze from the cotton ball being dabbed against your broken skin to Dean who was watching you intently. He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“It’s fine,” you forced out as he continued to clean you up.

“So you didn’t tell me how you knew the family.” It was obvious he was trying to distract you from the painful stings of the ointment he was using but it also set your teeth on edge that he was still trying to get answers out of you that he wasn’t entitled to. 

When you didn’t respond, he glanced up at you expectantly.

Fine. Whatever. Let him judge along with all the others. I don’t care. It’s not like he matters to me anymore. “He was my brother,” you whispered.

Sure enough, his green eyes opened wide in surprise. “He was your brother?”

You gave a reluctant nod, choosing to glance around the room rather than look at him. 

“So the kids, they were…”

Your vision blurred slightly and you were unable to speak due to the lump that had been in your throat all day, making it hard to swallow. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. You were resolved that you would not cry in front of anyone today, and you definitely would not cry in front of Dean Winchester. He’d seen enough of your tears back in Arizona.

You felt the movements on your hand cease altogether and you turned back to see the pity you’d been getting all day staring back at you. You hated it. “I’m so sorry.”

You nodded as if on autopilot and dropped your gaze back to your hand, waiting for him to finish so you could get out of here, away from him, away from the pity and the judgment that was sure to follow. He resumed the bandaging a moment later and you both spent the rest of the time in silence.

His brother’s appearance broke it. “Everything okay in here?”

Dean glanced up at you before looking at Sam. “Uh, yeah. Just a little accident but she’s good as new.” You saw him wince slightly at the words though he tried to hide it. That ticked your irritation a little higher though you had no idea why.

“May I?” Sam asked you, pulling out one of the empty chairs. At your subtle nod, he took a seat. You knew you should introduce yourself, finally officially meet the younger brother you’d heard so much about years ago, but you didn’t have it in you. You also weren’t surprised when Dean didn’t move to introduce you or that it was painfully obvious that he had never told Sam about you which just made you feel worse. It didn’t hurt, not in the way it would have back then, but it was like someone scratched a nail lightly along a long healed scar you had which would make you flinch slightly, hoping the nail would go away and forever leave the injury site untouched. Like a crater in the earth from a small asteroid; best to just leave it be and let nature take its course.

You flexed your hand as Dean put the dressings back into the kit. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sam offered.

Feeling that autopilot mode come back into play, you mumbled, “Thank you.”

“I can’t imagine how tough this has been on you and your family.” You nearly snorted; what family? Perhaps they hadn’t noticed but you were it. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to ask you a couple of questions about Scott and Leah.”

You briefly closed your eyes in pain at hearing their names, but not before you saw Dean’s head snap up to give Sam a look. “Not now.” He spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. 

Sam’s brows furrowed in confusion and he tilted his head questioningly, but remained silent.

You decided you’d had more than enough and you slowly got to your feet. Dean stood up as well, his hands reaching out to you as if to steady you, hanging in the air and unsure. You simply stared at him until he lowered his arms and compulsively swallowed. You spared a glance over at Sam and then turned to leave.

“Y/N.”

You stopped in your tracks but didn’t turn around. 

“Is there anything we can do? Anything you need?” Dean softly asked.

Anything they could do…anything you needed… You needed your family back, you needed to turn back the hands of time and get here sooner when Leah had called you out of the blue last week and begged you to come talk to Scott, saying he wasn’t acting like himself and she was worried. But since that didn’t appear to be an option, you simply shook your head and quietly answered, “Thank you for coming.” You then continued your trek out of the room, past the people who continued to offer you empty condolences or mutter statements like “They seemed like such a happy family”, and headed up the stairs, not caring in the least that you had a house full of people expecting you to be present so they could offer meaningless sympathies to someone. You ran to the bathroom and shut yourself inside it, sinking down behind the door and burying your face into your arms, hiding until everyone left and you could be alone again. You may have let out a few tears, a few quiet sobs, but no one would ever know.

…

“Dean, we can’t just leave her,” Sam tried to reason with his brother as they passed the crowd slowly making their way out of the home and headed towards the Impala. “We don’t even know what we’re dealing with yet.”

Dean pulled his keys out of his pocket, opening the back door of Baby to toss his jacket into. After you’d gone upstairs, he’d finished the dishes so you wouldn’t have to. He wouldn’t admit it to Sam but seeing the glass sticking out of your skin, you bleeding — it bothered him tremendously. It might have been a simple cut that had been easily patched up but it was you. It didn’t sit right with him just like this whole case hadn’t from the get go. 

He certainly hadn’t been expecting to see you after all of this time, while he was on a case of all things. He had hoped you were off living your life somewhere, happy as could be, in love, maybe have a kid or two — whatever you’d wanted. He had wanted you to have a normal life, a life untainted by the things that go bump in the night, something he would never get to experience himself. That was why he’d done the impossible and left you back in Sedona all those years ago. Granted, he’d been young and untethered and idiotic but those weeks he spent with you, those he would never forget. You were gorgeous, funny as hell, great in bed, you had a killer smile, and oh did you have one hell of a kind heart. You were a good girl with a wild streak who for some reason picked him though you could have had any number of guys knocking at your door. How could he not have fallen head over heels for you? And when you told him you loved him, being the first to say it between you, he’d felt something he never had before. When he was sixteen, he thought he knew what love was but boy had he been wrong.

Dean had wanted to stay with you back then, to hunker down and see where things went between you. After all, what would it hurt to put down roots for a little bit and not have to travel from motel room to motel room? To not have to sleep in the Impala for once? Besides, if Sam got to go to college and live his life, why couldn’t Dean do the same for a little while? It’s not like he would be quitting hunting or abandoning his dad to it alone, so why not? He may have only been 23 but he wanted to experience something he had always dreamed about but was told he would never have, and he wanted to experience it with you. Hell, you didn’t even need to stay in Sedona; you could settle down in Phoenix or Mesa or Tucson — or even travel to a different state. As long as he had you, he didn’t care where the two of you settled.

But of course, that had only been a dream, a momentary fantasy that felt real enough to almost touch before it was snatched out of his reach. John had called and demanded that he haul ass to Las Cruces to help him on a werewolf hunt, reminding him that he had an obligation to the family. Especially now that they were one man down thanks to Sammy’s big college adventure. Dean had tried to tell his father about you and the plan you both came up with, he really did, but John wouldn’t hear of it. The older man insisted it was infatuation, not the real thing, that he was too young to think about settling down, not to mention he was a hunter. And his dad scoffed when Dean mentioned that the way he felt about you reminded him of the stories John used to tell him and Sam about their parents meeting when they were young. He even proudly mentioned that you knew the words to every one of his favorite Led Zeppelin songs; he’d checked. He just knew John would love you if he’d be willing to meet you.

John then hit him with the truth that Dean had kept buried deep down and refused to acknowledge. If he stayed with you, you would never be safe. Even if he left hunting to be with you, you’d forever have a target on your back from every nasty evil thing he’d ever hunted. Just look at what happened to his Mary after she’d left hunting for a normal life. It followed her right up to Sammy’s nursery that night back in 1983 and killed her in front of his eyes. Dean’s own eyes had misted up as John’s words registered and from the silence, John knew he had been heard.

“Do what you have to do, son. I’ll see you in the morning.” The line clicked and Dean stared at the phone, a tear slipping down his cheek.

Needless to say, Dean had broken it off with you that very day, determined to ignore your tears and heartbroken pleas, knowing he was doing the right thing by you. He said what he knew you needed to hear, though it cut him up inside to say it. 

“I love you, Dean. Please,” you’d tearfully begged him. “Don’t leave.”

“I have to. I didn’t realize this was getting serious. I mean, we holed up together for a few weeks, we had some great sex, we had some laughs, some drinks, and a good time together, but that’s all it was ever going to be. You had to know that going into this, when you took me home from the bar that night. I’m pretty sure I even told you that I was only looking for a fun time while I was waiting for my next job. No strings attached because I’m just rolling through, remember?” 

As he watched the heartbreak play upon your face, he cowardly looked away as he rolled up his spare pairs of jeans and threw them into his duffel. If he looked at you, you’d see just how much you meant to him and just how much this was hurting him to have to do this to both of you.

“I’m 23 for Christ’s sake. I’m not looking to settle down, move in with a girlfriend, or get married and start cranking out kids. I want to live my life before I even start thinking about any of that crap.”

“But you said that you wanted to find a place together. You said you wanted to be with me. You said—” You whispered brokenly.

Dean’s jaw hardened and he turned away from you under the guise of grabbing his t-shirts and Henleys from the dresser drawer, shutting his eyes tightly. “It was just all talk. You know, us talking about what we’d do if our lives were different, what we’d want, like in a fantasy future. That kind of thing. I never actually meant any of it.” He heard the tiny gasp behind him and his fingers clenched around the material in his hands. Just get it done already. You’ve got work to do. The thought had been in John’s voice but Dean knew the thought was his own. He had to do this. He didn’t want to hurt you but he didn’t have any other choice. He couldn’t tell you why he had to leave and why he had to go without you. He couldn’t tell you that he was breaking your heart to keep you safe. He couldn’t admit that he was breaking his own so you could go and live a normal life, something he would never get to experience himself, so you could be happy after you forgot about him and dismissed him as a fun and wild lay that one time when you were young. That thought cut deeply into his chest and his resolve strengthened. No more drawing this out. You needed to let him go and move on; it was the only way to keep what he hunted in the shadows from ever touching you. 

“I didn’t think you did, either,” he forced out. Though he heard the beginning of a sob behind him in response, he made himself open his eyes and turned around to pack the rest of his stuff. He never allowed himself to look over at you to see the pain he’d inflicted on you; he heard it well enough.

Even when he threw his bags in the backseat of Baby and slammed the door shut, he refused to meet your wet gaze. He kept his hands glued to his sides, clenched in fists, because they itched to pull you into his arms for one last hug, for one last kiss to your head, but he wouldn’t allow himself to. He didn’t deserve it. “Take care of yourself, Y/N.” Without waiting for your response, he got into the Impala and started her up, revving the engine before pulling away from you for good.   

He would never forget the devastated look on your face in his side view mirror as he drove away from you, how you’d hugged yourself and brokenly turned to go back into the motel room the two of you had shared. It wasn’t any consolation but he was glad he’d handled the bill earlier and he’d even charged another week to one of the cards he had so this way you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. You could take a little time to figure out where to go from there. Sure, if his dad knew, he’d tear him a new one, but he never intended on telling John or anyone about you. You’d be better protected that way. No demon or witch could mine that information. And since he himself didn’t know where you’d go, they wouldn’t be able to get it out of him either. Not to mention, he told himself over and over that he didn’t love you until he began to believe it. That you two wouldn’t have worked out and you had just about run your course before John had called him. Who was to say that you two would have even been able to settle on an apartment or house to move into together? You barely knew each other. Plus, you were both young and you would change as you got older, as people do, and your dreams, desires, and needs would change. Either hunting would have taken a toll on the relationship or you would have grown apart. So, though it had been harsh, he had actually done you both a favor. He spared you both heartache later on by causing you a little at that moment. Dean was very good about compartmentalizing things when it suited him. You were safe and that was all that mattered. So yes, he made himself forget about you and how he felt about you, and he didn’t look back. That look of yours, though, that destroyed and heartbroken look…it had haunted him for months. But he told himself that if that was the price of protecting you, he’d gladly pay it. With enough alcohol, hunts, and faceless women, the memory of the look all but faded into the distance of the past. 

Eventually, time passed and then of course, Cassie had come along. He’d learned from what had happened with you and he’d been up front with Cassie about who he really was and that didn’t end well. Not to mention his time with Lisa and Ben. But over this period of time, he had also finally convinced himself that you had probably gotten over him and found somebody else who could give you the life he never could, the life you deserved. He wanted that for you and yet it seemed that no matter how hard he’d tried to give it to you in his own way all those years ago, the supernatural and all the pain and devastation it brought seemed to have found you anyway. 

“We’re not leaving her,” Dean assured his brother after breaking himself out of his reverie. Ignoring Sam’s confused expression at Dean opening the driver side door, he glanced up towards the upper level of the house, knowing you were hiding away somewhere beyond those walls. An elderly neighbor had assured him that she and her husband would stay in the home for the next hour or so in case you needed anything.

He slipped into the driver seat, followed by Sam getting in on the passenger side, and started Baby up. He put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb, intent on getting to the motel to change and ready himself for the conversation he knew he needed to have with you now. Truthfully, it was a conversation he should have had with you a long time ago. It was time to give you the talk. He’d left you alone back in that motel room all of those years ago; he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

Series taglist: @globetrotter28; @roseblue373

Dean taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions

SPN taglist: @just-levyy

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[ruewrote]

𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑑.

PAIRING: jj maybank x fem!reader WARNINGS: none GENRE: fluff, f2? SONG INSPIRATION: just cant get enough by black eyed peas WORD COUNT: 868

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you never had much money. living as a pogue proved that, but you didn't care.

you didn't keep up with the latest cosmopolitan since you were out surfing instead.

getting dirty looks from kooks as they judged your worn-out tops to your ripped vans, but you had no shame about it. holding your head high as they whispered behind you.

from time to time you wondered how it'd be to live big and fancy, but wouldn't trade what you had with your friends for anything else.

from the lazy hangouts at the chateau to the risky adventures, the bond that pogues had was unmatched. they were your family.

so when you started your new job working at the kooks country club you wanted to show your gratitude and bought each of them small gifts.

a golden turtle broch for kiera, an expensive pair of trainers for pope, and so on and so forth.

everyone was hyped about their gifts, you received many hugs and thanks but not jj. he sat on the sofa, rolling the black marble ring that you had gotten for him between his fingers.

an appreciative smile displayed on your lips, standing up and walking over to you, interrupting the conversation that you were having with sarah. giving you a knowing nod, she sat on john b's lap across the room, her arm around his neck, his hand on her waist.

"is everything okay?" concerned as jj sat beside you, his knee knocking into your own whilst doing so.

"i cant accept this." that made you frown and your brow furrow.

"of course you can, i wanted to spoil you a little. it's well overdue from all of the times that you've either paid for my food or i've stolen yours." playfully nudging his arm with yours, jj still didn't look convinced.

"you deserve this. as much as you're talking yourself out of it, it's true. its about time you got some well-deserved appreciation." you persisted, nudging the ring gently back to his chest.

still looks doubtful you made a promise.

"okay fine if you take this, this one time, no more expensive presents. only because i have one to match." lifting your hand gesturing to your pinky, slipping his on, and wrapping his finger around your own.

"promise?"

"promise."

you stuck to what you said to jj, you hadn't bought him a single expensive item, maybe treated him to dinner from time only after arguing back and forth about it, it ending in him giving in.

you had also made it your life's goal to make him gifts, whether it be finding pretty shells on the beach or decorated notes of appreciation.

yeah, it might've been insignificant to anyone else, but you felt a sense of pride when you watched his face light up at the silly little homemade trinkets.

from then on it just became a random thing you did for him even if you didn't get the others anything.

both of you agreed for him to sleep at your house since his dad was not having a... particularly good day and obviously not wanting him to be at the receiving end of it, he crashed at yours. this happened often enough that your parents let him stay over as long as the door was open.

so now you stood over the stove, stirring the pasta that was bubbling for the mac and cheese that you were making. jj making it ten times harder as he started doing stuff to distract you like eating the pre-grated cheese.

your hand slapping his wrist as he yet again went to reach his fingers into the bowl.

"i swear to god if i have to tell you again jay!" he giggled and ran out of the kitchen as you grabbed the cloth off of the side, following not far behind him.

after a while of chasing each other around the house, you finally cornered him in the living room, trying to whip the material.

unfortunately for you, he managed to snatch it out of your hands, wrapping his arms around your body and falling onto the couch on top of you so you couldn't do anything.

"let go of me!" wriggling around to find a way out.

"why would i do that when i know what the outcome will be? hey im dumb but im not that dumb."

letting out a huff, you relaxed into his arms knowing there wouldn't be any way of getting him to budge. he overpowered you every time.

"ugh fuck you dude!"

"you wish sweetheart!" jj winked at you, it wasn't until then that you realized the position you two were in.

he laid on top of you, in between your legs. faces two inches apart. your mouth went dry, looking at him was an even bigger mistake because when his eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes... you melted.

jj leaned in closer, your lips nearly touching when the smoke alarm goes off.

"shit the food!" you both dashed to the kitchen, turning off the fire, and making sure everything was fine. it was. laughing relieved.

you both wished deep down that the alarm had never gone off.

© ruewrote.

[mydearlybeloathed]

THAT HEROES OF OLYMPUS IMAGINE WAS SO GOOD FR like nil it reminded me of the eternals BUT PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE MAKE A PT2

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the eight get together for first time since Y/N's funeral, and it's a cause for some serious looks into their future.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: allusions to leo x fem!reader, heroes of olympus x fem!reader

𝐚/𝐧: omg you're so right it is like the eternals AND THANKS SM 🥰

masterlist

Christmas Eve hadn’t ever been so crowded, and honestly, Sally was a bit overwhelmed. Nevertheless, she'd never wish it any other way; her son was happy, and his wife was happy, so she was happy.

Besides, she wasn't stuck to the kitchen all alone. Estella and Paul were right at her side, and so were her grandchildren, Margot and Zoe.

Well, Margot and Zoe were fighting more than helping, spreading puffs of flour into the air with every punch and chokehold they threw out.

Sally let out a breath to calm herself as she very nearly dropped the tray of casserole due to their chase around the kitchen. Paul, who had gained a sense for Sally's temper, looked up form across the room and noticed the furrow of her brow as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Girls," he snapped, snatching the rolling pin from Zoe and grabbing Margot by the back of her hoodie. "Please, take it outside."

Zoe, ever the oldest, nodded and dragged her sister out into the front yard. Hopefully, thought Paul, there wouldn't be a Christmas trip to the ER.

Further into the house, away from the stress of the kitchen, laughter rang throughout the house.

In the living room, sat around the hearth, were the eight Heroes of Olympus.

Hazel sat on the edge of the couch, every once in a while looking toward the kitchen she'd been thrown out of. Sally insisted she didn't need any more help, but Hazel couldn't help but feel the need to.

Annabeth and Percy sat on the rug, criss crossed and side by side as they thanked Hestia no arguments had yet to break out. It seemed things were finally getting back to how they used to be; that is, good.

On the couch, right next to Hazel, was Frank. There was a polite enough distance between them, but every once in while they'd lock eyes and smile. The conversation between them wasn't what they'd like it to be, but slowly, they felt the ice slowly begin to melt. Both were hoping for a second chance, but neither knew how to ask for it.

"You're still doing quests, right?" Hazel asked him.

He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Not really quests. A search party, more like. Searching for more demigods."

Her head tilted as she turned to face him. "How are you finding them?"

"Luck, mostly," he said. "It's just me and Lavinia right now. We're following monster patterns for the most part, as well as just going to Olympus and asking... well, asking for a roster."

Hazel laughed behind her hand. "A roster? For all the people they've, erm, been with?"

Nodding, Frank chuckled too. "It's effective."

On the other end sat Y/N and Leo, the latter completely captured by whatever the son of Hephestus said. His hands were quick as he worked with several gears and pieces of metal, not realizing as his friend got closer to his shoulder to watch what he was doing.

When he was done, he held up a tiny model dragon, which he handed to her before going on about all that had happened since last they talked, which had been some months ago, upon her crashing her own funeral.

Y/N grinned down at the dragon, setting it on her knee as she propped her arm on the back of the couch and rested her head there, eyes finding Leo's profile again as she hung on every word he said.

"What happened to Calypso," she asked in a moment of pause. She'd been wondering that for some time, even before her "death." She'd been on good terms with everyone during their decade of disagreement and had spoken to Leo every few years or so, and eventually, Calypso stopped showing up to their lunch get-togethers.

Y/N never had the nerve to bring her up, mostly because she didn't want to come off... the wrong type of way about it.

Leo blinked, not expecting that, and shifted to face her. "Oh. Uhm, we didn't work out." His lopsided grin turned melancholy. "Took me three years to figure that out."

"I'm sorry," she said, and she meant it. He'd been so happy with Calypso, and as much as that was hard to swallow, she wasn't about to put an end to that.

"Eh," Leo shrugged, noticing how her face had fallen. "It's fine. We're good now. Better as friends, I think."

The pair fell silent at that particular choice of words, an echo of a past they'd rather not bring up in their heads.

It hadn't been so long ago, to them at least, when they were sixteen, and better as friends had put some kind of impassable bridge between the close friends.

For some reason, they both reflected, sharing a brief glance, that bridge wasn't so impassable anymore.

On the soft armchair across from them were Piper and Shel. Piper had her legs thrown over Shel's, her upper body leaned against the side of the chair as she talked with Jason, who lay on his back on the floor. To her surprise, Shel and Jason got along really well.

"So you can fly?" Shel asked, a brow raised as she looked between her girlfriend and the son of Jupiter.

Jason sat up and nodded. "Yep."

Shel scoffed. "I don't believe you."

Piper and Jason shared a look, mischief in their eyes. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she answered, shaking her head. "Just cause you're a demigod or whatever doesn't mean the laws of gravity don't apply to you."

"Well, they do still." Jason shifted so he was sitting right in front of Shel. "It doesn't work like that, really. I just bend the wind to lift me up."

"There's no way you're a fuckin' airbender, dude."

"There is a way, and I'll prove it--"

"Mom!"

Annabeth's eyes shut as she sighed to keep her patience. Meanwhile, Percy nudged her and wondered aloud. "How come they never call for me when they're angry?"

Ignoring her husband, Annabeth looked up as her daughters ran one after the other into the living room. Margot shoved Zoe aside to get there first, sending her older sister spiraling into the wall.

Zoe jumped back up with a grunt, just in time to catch her mother's stern glare and shape up real quick.

Margot pointed at her sister and shouted, "Zoe punched me! For real punched me. In the eye!"

"Was it aggravated?"

"Percy."

He raised his hands in defense. "It's a valid question."

Annabeth pinched the bridge of her nose, though a little grin was fighting its way onto her lips. "Zoe, do not deck your sister in the face."

"Ha!"

"Margot," Annabeth warned. "Do not do anything garnering a deck in the face."

The sisters glared at each other before they said in unison, "Yes, Ma'am" and ran back outside, this time with their Aunt Stella marching after them, slouching and frustrated at being sent to be their babysitter by her mother.

Annabeth sighed and leaned into her husband's side, feeling his laughter in his chest before she heard it. He rubbed at her shoulders. "We haven't decided whose genetics trumped the others yet."

"It's obvious," Y/N said, looking up from the little toy dragon in her lap.

The parents shared a look before Annabeth asked, "Really?"

Y/N nodded. "Yeah. Margot may look just like Sally, but she's all Annie's sass and smarts. And Zoe's a tiny little Percy, except maybe a bit more self-aware."

Percy scoffed, nearly offended, as Annabeth chuckled. Y/N leaned back, reclining into the soft couch, and let her exhaustion get the better of her as she confessed, "I can't wait till I have kids someday."

An instant later, her cheeks were rosy as she sat straight up, glaring at Hazel's little snicker. "I mean, not mine, obviously."

Leo's brows quirked as he turned to face her entirely on the couch. "Why obviously?"

She realized then she'd actually never told anyone. "Oh, uhm," she stammered. "I... uh, I learned a while back I can't. Something in my DNA. I dunno..."

Suddenly, her little slip up wasn't so funny. Piper shifted so she was sitting up, beside Shel on the armchair. "Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry."

Y/N was quick to shake my hands in dismissal, a tiny grin on her face. "No, don't be. I have other options, if I ever get a life and move out of the Big House."

Annabeth tilted her head at that, her hand still in Percy's. "But you love being a counselor?"

"I do! Don't get me wrong," she said, starting to laugh a little awkwardly now that everyone was looking at her. "I just... I wish I hadn't clung to Camp like I had, you know? I shoulda gone to New Rome and gone to college with you guys instead of settling for never getting passed tenth grade."

Now it was Frank that turned to face her. "Y/N, you know it's not too late, right? NRU has GED programs."

Percy nodded. "And then you can apply. I'm sure Reyna and Jason would give you a recommendation or something."

"Definitely," said Jason.

Though the prospect of it was exciting, she ducked her chin and sank deeper into the cushions. "But... guys. I'm bordering on twenty-five..."

Before anyone could say anything else, reassure her it wasn't too late, the man beside her blurted, "I'll do it with you."

Everyone's heads darted in Leo's direction. Leo was smart. Insanely smart. But he'd made it clear school just wasn't for him. He was well enough off, and had a good job working at a garage not too far from the Waystation. He had no need to go back to school.

"What?" Y/N voiced the thought whirling around the room.

He just shrugged. "I've been thinking about it for a while, to be honest."

"You're not just saying that?" Y/N asked. "Cause I-I don't need you to do that for me, Leo. I know how difficult it was for you."

"I'm serious," he insisted. "Fixing motorcycles and cars is fun and all, but there's only so many oil changes a man can do before he has an existential crisis."

He wanted to be an engineer. He'd always wanted to be engineer, really, but it always felt so far away. He'd felt alone, but Y/N was there, and she also wanted more out of life. She too had regrets, probably some regrets they shared, and he wasn't just letting that go.

So he shrugged again, offering her his signature smirk, and raised his fist up to her. "What'dya say? Back to school?"

Y/N probably stared at his fist long enough to make it weird, before her eyes snapped up to meet his, and a smile spread from cheek to cheek. "Okay."

She fist bumped him, letting out a loud laugh as Piper whooped and started a round of applause that soon had the living room nearly too loud to handle.

It was still going on when Sally and Paul entered the room, the mother ripping an oven mitt off her hand and crossing her arms whilst her husband snickered under his breath. He cast her a look and wondered, "Did we miss something?"

[rhoorl]

Delta Landscaping Chapter 12: In a Rink Far, Far Away

Series Summary: In this AU, the boys of Delta Force start a new business post-Colombia. 

Series Masterlist | Chapter 12 A03 Link

Word Count: 6.2k

Previously on As the Mule Falls: We learned a bit more about the back stories between Will and Katie. We also found out more about Benny and got some insight into his relationship with Cousin Joel. The Pikes will close on their house soon. Frankie was out in Dallas being the best uncle ever. Connor and Santiago help Benny study up on Omar as he continues to prepare for his fight. Speaking of Santiago, he sent a not-so-subtle message to Melissa…or was he playing games?

On this Episode: Benny and Will have a heart-to-heart. Frankie returns home after an eventful trip back. And we get the long-awaited (for me) birthday party for Olivia's twins. Cue montage A bunch of kids trying to chase Benny around the rink (he's skating backward), a curious Lucille, Megan and Katie whispering, David and his gold Stanley cup, Frankie checking his phone, and lots of Star Wars decorations.

Chapter Warnings: There are a few scenes that involve kids (we are at a children’s party after all). I pulled out a tissue while writing the Benny and Will scene at the beginning because I thought it was sweet. There are some Spanish phrases thrown in throughout, but hopefully, there’s enough context so you can understand the gist even if you don’t speak Spanish. If you have questions please let me know!

*Cue the theme music and roll opening credits*

Wednesday

Will walked back up the driveway and saw Santiago's car still in the driveway. He groaned at the prospect of having to face both Pope and Benny, knowing that his early arrival home was going to trigger questions and ribbing.

When he opened the door, the house was dark and quiet. It took him a second to see a faint glow coming from the couch. Benny watching something on his phone. 

“Ben, seriously, in the living room?” Will rolled his eyes with a huff.

“Ha ha, very funny jackass. I'm watching a fight see?” He turned his phone around to show Will. “You’re home a lot earlier than I expected. What did we end up getting?” He motioned with his chin toward to the two presents in Will’s hands.

“A magic set and some Fortnite thing, I have no idea what it is.” He shrugged.

Benny inspected the packages once Will set them on the coffee table. “I take it this isn’t your handiwork then huh?” gesturing to the perfectly wrapped presents.

“Nah, that’s all Kat…uh Katie. She did that.”

Benny pulled his smile to one side, eyeing his brother as he plopped down on the end of the couch.

“Where’s Pope and Connor?”

Benny sat up, “Pope crashed here, he’s in the guest room, and Connor left a while ago.”

“How was watching film? Pick anything up?” Will asked, his gaze fixed on the television.

“Uh, it was good. Guy’s a typical boxer making the jump to MMA. I know what I have to do.” Benny swiped his bangs away from his eyes. “Soooo…we not going to talk about it or? Did something happen?”

Will sighed and got up to walk to the kitchen and grab a beer. He heard Benny follow suit, trailing behind him. “Nothing happened, Ben. We…talked, hung out. It was…nice,” Will leaned against the kitchen counter, resting his head against one of the cabinets.

“Nice. You just talked? Wow, you really are friend zoned huh?” Benny quickly stifled a chuckle when he saw Will’s serious demeanor unchanged. He knew his brother had a way of compartmentalizing and shutting down. After all, it took one to know one. So, he had to tread a bit lightly and back off the teasing. “Sorry, man. Uh…nice. So, what did you guys talk about?”

“A few things, I ended up talking a lot about you actually.” Will raised his eyebrows with the smallest of smirks dancing across his lips.

“Me?” Benny brought his hand to his chest dramatically. “Well, that’s a pretty good topic of conversation I’d say,” he winked.

“You’re such a dick.” Will shook his head and couldn’t help but smile.

The brothers sat for a moment in comfortable silence, Will rolling the neck of the beer bottle between his fingers while Benny sat on a bar stool at the kitchen island. 

“Was it bad?” Benny finally broke the silence, but Will could barely hear him. 

“What?” Will leaned slightly forward.

“You said you talked about me…was it bad? Did I do something wrong?” Benny started fidgeting with his hands, his eyes fixed downward.

“What? No Bean. It’s never anything bad,” Will pushed off the counter and walked a couple of steps to face Benny on the opposite side of the kitchen island. “You’re a good man, Benny. You know that right?”

“Hmpf,” Benny's eyes quickly flitted up to Will and then back down to his hands. 

“I don’t think I tell you enough, or at all even, but I’m proud of you Bean.”

Will saw the crease between Benny’s eyebrows deepen as he chewed the inside of his cheek. Taking a deep breath, Benny looked up, “Thanks, man. I’m proud of you too.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Will studied Benny’s face and when he saw his brother nod he continued, “Do you resent me? For enlisting?”

Benny quickly looked up, tilting his head. “Resent you? Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know man, I left you home alone with dad…if I could have stayed around, I don’t know…” Will rubbed the back of his neck.

“I wasn’t alone,” Benny’s eyes met Will’s and he gave a small smile. “I had mom, and Joel, and Tommy. I missed you obviously…and I’m not going to lie and say it was a fucking cakewalk, but…I don’t resent you. But you are the reason I enlisted.” Will scoffed, but Benny continued. “You were! I…I wanted to be like you. I uh…I’ve always looked up to you man.” 

“You have?”

“Are you serious?” Benny let out a harsh breath. He took a moment to compose himself, but his eyes started to water. “You’ve always been the example…in everything. I’ve always wanted to be like you.”

“Damn, Ben,” Will choked back tears. He was normally stoic and could keep his emotions at bay, but there was something about seeing his little brother cry that always punched him in the gut.

“I mean it. You got good grades, had lots of friends, always knew what to say, and … although I hate to admit this, girls liked you more,” he laughed and then sniffled. “So I wanted to follow you. Hell, if anything I always thought that you maybe…I don’t know…resent is too strong of a word, but I didn’t want you to think your kid brother was always taggin’ along tryna copy you or something.”

“You can always tag along Bean.” Will came around the counter and clapped his brother on the back as Benny pulled him into an embrace.

Thursday

On her morning walk with Bucky, Megan spotted Katie coming back from a run.

“Hey stranger!” she waved.

“Hey! Hey Buck,” Katie jogged over, giving Bucky some head scratches, which promptly turned into belly rubs as he flipped on his back.

“Soo…how was your night?” Megan waggled her eyebrows. “You never texted me back.”

Katie sighed, wiping her brow with her forearm, “Unfortunately, it was uneventful in that department. We went to Target, wrapped some presents, ate dinner, and talked. And he helped me plan out some home projects, mostly around the kitchen.”

“So you didn’t wrap his presen-” Megan could barely get it out before they both started cracking up. Once they composed themselves, Megan raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “So how do you feel about how the night went?”

“Honestly? Good. He’s a really sweet guy Meg and I…I don’t know, I feel like we have stuff in common…like we could help each other,” she looked down at her feet and then back up at Megan who started to smirk. “Don’t say it. We’re not going to ‘help each other’ like that,” Katie rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t say anything.” She held up her palms.

Katie narrowed her eyes, giving her friend a skeptical look.

“I’m just saying you friend-zoned a super hot guy when you could have had a chance to…you know,” she winked and poked Katie in her side.

“I’ve sucked his dick, Megan, it’s not like haven’t done anything.”

The two busted out in giggles as Bucky whined for Katie to give him more belly rubs.

Friday

“Hey Frank, I’m gonna run out while Vale is in the shower, gotta pick up some donuts. We have to cheer up Antonio before you leave,” Alyssa pouted as she grabbed her crossbody and keys. “The kids are really going to miss you…so are we.” 

Frankie sighed, “I know. I’m gonna miss you all too. We have to get y’all out to Florida soon.”

“I’d like that. We all would,” she walked over and patted her brother-in-law on the arm with a tight smile. “Ok, I’ll be back soon. Neither of them should wake up for a while so you can relax for a bit. Got everything packed?”

“Ha, thanks Lys. Yeah, I’m all set.” He turned and opened the cabinet to pull out a mug and start brewing some coffee.

He was about to sit down on the couch and play a game on his phone when he heard what sounded like crying. It wasn’t like Leia’s crying, it was a bit more muffled, but he heard it nonetheless. He got up and walked down the hallway, hearing the crying grow louder as he stood outside of Antonio’s door. Softly opening it, Frankie saw his nephew sitting on his bed with his back to the door, huddled over and crying into a pillow.

“Pollito…” Frankie whispered as he slipped into the room.

The little boy turned, curls wild and eyes red. “Hi…Tio…Frankie…” he managed to say as he tried to catch his breath.

“Que te pasa?” Frankie rushed over and sat on the little boy’s bed, which was decked out in Star Wars sheets to compliment his Star Wars pajamas. He put a hand on the back of Antonio's head and brought him in for a hug. “Shhh calmate. What’s wrong?”

Antonio buried his head in his uncle’s chest and after a few minutes, he pulled back and used both hands to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I don’t want you to go. You just got here. Can’t you stay?”

Frankie felt like a dagger was driven directly through his heart as he closed his eyes and took a breath pulling Antonio back to his chest. “Hey, it’s ok. I can come back out to visit. Maybe you all can come see me and the rest of your Tios. I can take you up in a helicopter,” Frankie hoped the offer would help quell some of the tears.

“R-really? That…would…be…fun,” Antonio managed to get out between sniffles.

Frankie tried to take the boy’s mind off of his impending departure by telling him all about his favorite helicopter and the route he liked to use on his sightseeing tours. He offered up going to a Tampa Bay Rays game or throwing the baseball around with the guys which elicited the first smile of the morning from Antonio. After a few minutes, the tears were dried and Antonio’s breathing was back to normal as he started asking a bunch of questions and talking a mile a minute.

They were pulled from their little conversation by another set of cries, Leia’s. She had woken up and was not happy about it.

“Your hermana’s up, let’s go get her,” Frankie smiled as Antonio hopped off his bed and bounded down the door. 

“Ok Tio Frankie, but you’re the one changing her diaper. I’m not doing that,” Antonio scrunched up his face.

“Babe! I’m home!” Danny decided to surprise Melissa by jumping on an earlier flight back. He knew that with the impending weather, he ran the chance of getting delayed or stuck somewhere. “Babe?” He started searching around. He saw her purse on the counter and her keys were on the hook by the garage door, so he knew she was home.

Scanning around the house, he saw a shirt strewn over the couch and wet footprints leading to the patio. That’s when he spotted her on a float in the middle of their pool, headphones in and eyes closed.

She must have sensed someone watching her because she cracked her eyes open slightly and jumped a bit at the sight of him. “Babe! I didn’t expect you home so early!” She paddled towards the side of the pool with her hands on either side of the float.

“I know, I just…missed you. I wanted to get home as soon as I could,” a wicked grin came across his face as his eyes grazed over her body; she was wearing one of his favorite bikinis.

She arched her eyebrow, intrigued by the playful side of him, something that had been missing. He’d been pulling long shifts over the last couple of weeks which left him with hardly any energy at the end of the day to engage in much frisky activity, even if it was just over the phone. But, he looked pent up and Melissa was not mad about it.

“Well, how about we take care of that, Captain,” her eyes trailed down to his pants which were starting to tent. 

“Jesus Christ, Pope,” Benny muttered to himself, putting his pillow over his head to try and drown out the sound of Santiago’s alarm. “This guy could fucking sleep through anything.”

After about another minute with no silence in sight, Benny threw the pillow to the side, along with his sheets, and stomped over to the guest room. He didn’t even bother to knock, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference. When he walked in, he saw Santiago sprawled out on the guest bed, face down and snoring … loudly.

“Hey, wake the fuck up man,” Benny grabbed Santiago’s ankle and shook it.

Santiago woke up with a start, recoiling his legs and looking around confused before he registered Benny at the foot of his bed.

“Fuck, Benny, what’re you doing here?” He reached over and silenced the alarm.

“What am I doing here? First of all, hi, I live here. Second of all, your fucking alarm has been going off for the past five minutes. You haven’t heard it?”

Santiago sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and shaking his head. “No, I… damn I was out wasn’t I?”

Benny just gave him a look, turned on his heel, and walked out of the room.

When Santiago picked up his phone again he saw a couple of different text messages and a calendar reminder that said “Fetch the Fish.”

Frankie lay on the floor as Leia crawled over him and Antonio ate his chocolate frosted donut, with sprinkles of course. He was trying to soak up this last bit of family time before he and Valeria had to head to the airport. 

“We’ll really have to figure out a time to come out and see you, Paco, maybe before the summer ends or something? I have to check with Tim before I schedule some time off.” Valeria smiled over her coffee mug.

“Why? That guy hasn’t taken a vacation in the last like five years, I think you’re good to do whatever you want, babe!” Alyssa called from the kitchen where she was packing Antonio’s lunchbox. 

Valeria sighed, “I know. We need to get that guy laid.” She snorted.

Valeria was about to open her mouth to say something when Frankie’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. He groaned getting up, his back hurting no doubt, and sighed when he read the message on his phone.

“What’s wrong?” Valeria asked.

“There’s weather, so my flight got changed. I gave to go through Atlanta now,” Frankie rolled his eyes. 

The drive up to arrivals was always stressful. Bumper-to-bumper cars, frantically scanning the crowd for your person, while trying not to crash. Luckily for Santiago, Frankie stood out from the crowd thanks to his trusty baseball cap and curls. I’d spot that fucker from a mile away he would often say.

That’s why when he saw Frankie giving a mystery woman a hug he was very intrigued. As he pulled closer he saw her break the hug and look up at Frankie with a tight smile as she retreated to a lime-green Kia Soul. He also noticed how Frankie’s gaze remained fixed on the car as it drove away. It’s why Frankie didn’t even realize Santiago had pulled up right next to him. 

Santiago rolled down the passenger window and gave his special whistle - one he used to use back when the guys served to locate each other. That piercing tone snapped Frankie out of his trance and he looked to the side, locking eyes with Pope waved.

“Vamos pendejo, they’re gonna make me circle if you don’t get in,” Santiago yelled towards Frankie, motioning for him to get in the car.

“Fuck,” Frankie shook his head to center himself before walking towards the curb. He opened the back door of Santiago’s car and tossed his carry-on and backpack in before settling into the passenger seat. “Sorry, Pope. Thanks for picking me up.”

As Santiago maneuvered his way out of the maze of cars, he quickly glanced over to Frankie. “All good, hermano. You good?”

“Uh y-yea…I’m great, actually.” 

Frankie stared out of the window as Santiago continued to drive, a smirk coming over his face.

Saturday 

“When's the last time you went roller skating?” Santiago asked as he got out of Frankie’s truck. Frankie was head down on his phone and oblivious. “Fish? Hey, que te pasa?” Santiago slapped Frankie on the shoulder as he came around the front of the truck. 

“Hmm?” Frankie murmured, quickly sending a text before shoving the phone into his pocket, but it was too late. Santiago saw the screen before Frankie could lock it. “What?”

Santiago stopped Frankie in his tracks and gave him a skeptical look. “Who’s Jo?” He glanced towards the phone in Frankie’s pocket. “Anyone we should be worried about?”

It was then that Frankie realized how Santiago may have been interpreting his behavior. Frankie being reclusive usually meant trouble, and he couldn't blame his friend for the worry. Given his track record, Frankie would have had the same reaction if the shoe was on the other foot.

“N-no hermano, it's nothing like that. I…uh,” he readjusted his hat before rubbing the back of his neck. “I kinda met someone on the flight home…I think.”

A wash of relief fell over Santiago's face. He was ready for evasiveness but was pleasantly surprised by the vulnerability.

“No shit man! Tell me about…this…person.” Santiago made sure to carefully choose his words.

“She…uh she…uh…we ended up sitting next to each other. Not a great flyer so I tried to help, her get through the flight. She wasn’t a fan of the turbulence,” Frankie smiled to himself.

Santiago raised an eyebrow with a slight smirk. He didn't want to press, knowing Frankie would share more in due time. They heard car doors closing, looking up to see the Miller brothers getting out of Will’s Jeep. 

Benny was all smiles, excited to be able to recycle an old Halloween costume. “Pope! Nice man, good to see this get-up again,” he winked. “Fish, c’mon man, You really missed out on an opportunity to dress up like an X-wing pilot or something.” He shook his head.

“Pope’s the one who suggested this. Said we could go as a duo,” Frankie motioned to his shirt.

“David, seriously? Oh. My. God.” Olivia couldn't help but bust out laughing as David walked through the front door. When she told everyone they could dress up, she knew David was going to do the absolute most. 

Ty sighed with a shrug, playfully acting defeated as they walked up, “There was no reigning him in.”

“Of course there was! I could have dusted off my Princess Leia bikini costume from Pride, but I figured that have been too much.”

“For a kid’s party, yeah I think so babe,” Ty laughed, still shaking his head.

David spent some quality time with his sewing machine throughout the week as he constructed a gold body suit complete with a matching gold jacket. But the pièce de résistance was his knee-high gold boots, complete with rhinestones. Ty followed behind dressed as R2D2 albeit, with a lot more subtlety. He wore a store-bought shirt with a simple pair of jeans. He humored David by wearing a R2D2 hat he had bought from the Disney store.

Olivia rolled her eyes and continued to laugh, but paused when she saw the cup David brought with him even though she told him to leave it at home. 

“Don’t worry Liv, it’s empty, see…” he opened the lid to his solid gold Stanely cup to show Olivia, who gave him a tight smile and walked away to go greet some new arrivals.

Megan nearly choked on her water as she, Lucille, and Connor walked up. “Holy shit, David!”

“Hey! Language!” Olivia called over.

“Sorry Livvy! David. Hold on I need a picture,” she laughed. 

David was more than happy to oblige, giving her a few different angles and looks. 

“Ay dios mio!” Lucille shook her head as she bounced little Diana on her hip. The baby was entertained playing with Lucille’s glasses.

“Oh come on, Lulu, you’re just mad I took your idea,” David winked. “I love your buns, Katie!”

“Aw thanks,” Katie smiled, reaching up to touch the two Leia-inspired buns on the side of her head.

“Oh hey everyone!” The group turned to see Melissa walking in with Danny. She wore a white tunic with skinny jeans and had her hair in three buns down her head like Rey, while Danny kept it simple with jeans and a Star Wars shirt. 

“You both look great! We missed you Danny, good to have you home” Olivia came over, giving them both a hug and taking the gifts from Melissa.

“Where are the birthday boys?” Danny asked with a big smile.

“Oh Chris is helping them with their costumes…oh there they are!” Olivia pointed over as her husband and twins walked out of the bathroom. Chris looked suave in his Lando Calrissian get-up, complete with a cape and mustache he grew out specifically for the party, much to Olivia’s chagrin. CJ and Max decided to go as Kylo Ren and Darth Vader. 

“Ohhh and look at what we have here,” Ty smirked, bumping shoulders with David who let out a loud gasp, covering his mouth with his hand.

It was as if everything went into slow motion as Santiago, Benny, Will, and Frankie walked into the skating rink.

“Hey guys!” Chris called over with a wave as CJ and Max ran to say hi, getting high-fives from Benny.

“Uh oh, I gotta stay away from you guys!” Benny faked acting scared of the twins.

“Mr. Benny, who are you supposed to be?” Max asked.

“He’s Kylo Ren’s dad, duh!” CJ rolled his eyes.

“Kylo Ren’s dad?” Chris scoffed. “He’s Han Solo. The coolest…you know what, never mind,” he laughed. “Great costume, bud! You too Santiago.”

“Thanks! You too man, can’t say the same about these two,” Santiago gestured over his shoulder to Will and Frankie. Santiago happened to catch Frankie smiling at his phone again before tucking it away.

“C’mon, everyone’s going to be excited you’re here!” Chris ushered the guys over to where the other neighbors had set up shop.

Megan whistled as the guys walked up, making Katie laugh and Connor groan. “Mom, c’mon!”

“Oh stop it, you don’t wear pants that tight and not expect anyone to say anything, right Santiago?”

“Ha you know it,” he winked. 

Frankie walked over to Lucille and gave her a big hug and kiss on the cheek. “Te extrañé, Francisco. How was your trip?”

“It was great, I’m so glad I went.” He smiled. 

Lucille noticed he had quite a twinkle in his eyes. “Ok, well I need to see pictures!” She moved Diana over to her other hip as Frankie fetched his phone out of his pocket.

She cooed over the photos of little Leia and could not get over how cute Antonio was with his curly hair and brown eyes that reminded her so much of Frankie. “Your sister is beautiful! It runs in the family,” she winked. 

Frankie blushed as he continued to scroll through the photos. His phone dinged and a notification for a message popped up, but Frankie quickly cleared it and pulled the phone away before Lucille was able to see it. He had just received a photo of some sort.

“Uh sorry, got a text,” Frankie fumbled with his phone and got back to sharing photos from his trip. “But yeah, that’s the kids,” he nervously laughed which made Lucille smirk.

“Hey, are you supposed to be Poe?” Connor looked Santiago up and down before taking a sip of his soda.

“Ha yea, bought this costume a couple of years ago. Had a girl at a bar tell me I looked like the guy who played him once so I figured I’d lean into it. That was a good Halloween for us wasn’t it Ben,” Santiago laughed as Benny buried his face in his hands shaking his head as he walked away to go lace up his skates.

“Aww, you have a couple’s costume with Frankie.” Melissa crossed her arms as she walked up and stood next to Santiago. Her eyes trailed after Danny who had gone to the cooler to fetch her a beer. 

“Ohhhh, I get it now! Frankie has on a BB-8 shirt,” Connor laughed. “Actually, you two go together, Rey and Poe.”

“Eh no not really. They don’t really go together, do they Santi?” Melissa said with a tight smile and Santiago folded his arms in front of his chest.

“I like your buns…uh fuck, I mean your hair…uh…shit, sorry,” Will blushed, rubbing the back of his neck and chuckling to himself.

“Well, thanks. Either way you meant it,” Katie winked. “Why aren’t you dressed up? Too cool for school?”

“Nah, I figured I’d let Pope and Ben have the spotlight for a bit,” he put his hands in his pockets and let out a nervous laugh.

“I like this shirt, I figured you’d go for something Boba Fett,” she gestured to the tattoo on Will’s forearm. “Although I’m telling you once you watch The Mandalorian you’re going to change your tune.”

“We’ll have to watch it sometime.”

“Yeah…I’d like tha-” 

Katie was cut off as Benny came behind Will, wrapped his arms around his brother’s waist, and lifted him off the ground. “C’mon man, we gotta show these kids how it’s done.”

Katie raised an eyebrow, “Show them how it’s done huh?”

“Yeah, don’t let him fool you. We used to go to the skating rink a ton in high school. It’s where all the hot girls went. Hey remember that time you and Elizab-... ow!” Benny rubbed the bicep Will had just punched to silence him. 

“Well you boys have fun,” Katie smirked as she leaned forward against the wall at the edge of the rink.

“What you aren’t gonna skate? You’re coming right, Connor?” Benny called over to Connor who was quietly talking and laughing with Aria off in the corner.

“Uh, y-yeah. I’ll… we’ll…be out there in a bit,” Connor responded.

“C’mon Kat, you gotta show us what you got,” Benny teased.

Katie pursed her lips, but couldn’t help the smirk that came over her face as Benny used Will’s nickname for her. Realizing Benny’s slip, Will’s eyes widened as he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. 

“No, you boys go right ahead, we’ll be happy to observe,” Megan came up behind Katie, wrapping her arms around her friend’s shoulders, with a wink. 

“Besides, I…uh…I don’t know how to skate,” Katie said to the ground.

“Wait what?” Benny’s mouth was agape. “Where was your childhood?”

“Ben, stop it,” Will rolled his eyes, slapping his brother across the stomach, “But seriously, you don’t know how?” He directed his attention to Katie who shook her head. “Well, no pressure, but if you want we can teach you. Think about it, but first I need to show up my little brother,” Will winked as he turned and started speeding away.

“Hey! No fair, you got a head start!” Benny yelled as he tried to make up some ground while dodging eight-year-olds. 

Megan came up next to Katie, leaning her forearms on the wall in front of them as the two giggled at the spectacle. Benny and Will skated laps around the kids and started drawing a bit of a crowd. Will shook his head and chuckled as Benny showed off by skating backward.

“It’s nice to see Will laughing, he seems to be having a good time,” Megan observed with a side eye over to Katie.

“Yeah, like he’s letting loose a little bit.”

“So you’re really just going to be friends then, huh?” 

Katie rolled her eyes, facing her friend, with one elbow on the wall. “Yes, just friends. I think -” she paused as her focus was drawn behind Megan. “Well take a look here,” her eyes motioned to where she wanted Megan to look.

Turning around Megan saw Connor take Aria’s hand and lead her onto the rink. She also caught Lucille’s eyes along with Olivia who gave a wink as they all watched the pair start to skate around the rink together hand in hand.

“They’re so cute,” Katie put her arm around Megan, who looked at her with misty eyes.

“They are. Oh shit they’re about to skate back this way, I can’t let him see me like this or he’s going to be so embarrassed,” she laughed, dabbing her eyes.

“Excuse me, Lulu, I’ll be right back,” Frankie got up, phone in hand as he gave Lucille a quick wink and made his way over to a quieter corner of the skating rink.

“Hola, Lulu. Where’s he going?” Santiago asked as he kissed Lucille on the cheek before he sat down.

“I was hoping you’d know.” 

Santiago shook his head from side to side. “Maybe it’s about this girl he met on the flight back.”

“Oh? Cuéntame más.” She perked up, hoping Santiago would spill. 

“Unfortunately, I don’t have much more information than you do. He’s been quiet all day, well, more quiet than usual I guess. And he’s been texting a lot and Fish hates texting, so it must be worth his while. Oh, you know what?” Santiago scooted his chair up closer and leaned in to whisper conspiratorily with Lucille. “When I picked him up yesterday from the airport, he was giving some girl a hug. That has to be Jo, right?”

“Quien es Jo mi amor?” She whispered back confused.

“I saw a name pop up on his phone earlier, Jo. The mystery woman at the airport, and a mystery person in his phone…must be the same one. I could only see her from behind, but she looked pretty good,” he winked.

“Ay dios mio, Santiago. Well, this is exciting news. He seems … excited. It’s nice to see,” she smiled softly, eyes following Frankie who was now smiling and talking on the phone. “And what about you mi vida? Any…ladies catching your eyes?” She gave him an up and down before her eyes found Melissa’s, who quickly averted her gaze. 

Santiago coughed and sat up in the chair. “N-no, I mean … well, I’m dating around. Nothing serious.”

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes and as she opened her mouth, Frankie appeared.

“Hey Pope, you ok to get a ride with Benny and Will? I’m…um…gonna head out,” he took off his cap and quickly ran his hand through his hair before returning it.

“Todo bien Francisco?” Lucille asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Y-yeah, all good. I…um…just need to go take care of something. You good Pope?”

“Si, hermano, go ahead.” He nodded to Frankie.

“Adios Lulu,” he bent down to kiss the woman on the cheek. “Ok, let me go find Olivia and tell her bye and I’ll head out.”

“I’ll be back,” Will nodded over to Benny as he slowed down to leave the skating rink.

“Admit it, you’re slow and are worn out,” Benny winked.

“Sure, Ben, whatever you say,” he rolled his eyes and waved his brother on. He spotted Megan, animatedly telling a story as Katie laughed. She was snorting as Will walked up. 

“Oh, hey Will,” Megan stopped to acknowledge Will as he sat down. 

“You having fun?” Katie asked as Will took down a bottle of water quickly.

“Yeah, gotta say I thought Benny had a lot of energy but he’s nothing on these kids,” Will chuckled. “You sure you don’t wanna try and skate?” He turned to Katie who quickly shook her head from side to side. “Aw c’mon Kat, it’ll be fun.”

“Will’s a strong guy, he won’t let you fall. Won’t you, Will?” Megan couldn’t hide her smirk. 

“Definitely not. Why don’t you just try a little bit and if you don’t like it I promise I’ll carry you off myself.”

“Well, in that case, you have to go for it! If you won’t I will!” David suddenly appeared, as Will rubbed the back of his neck, a slight blush coming across his face.

Katie rolled her eyes at Megan and David before looking at Will. “Ok, soldier. But I swear if I fall I’m kicking your ass.”

“Deal. Let’s go get you some shoes,” Will got up and gestured for her to lead the way.

“Where’s Fish?” Benny panted a slight sheen of sweat on his brow from a vigorous skating session. He decided to challenge Connor to a race and lost.

“He left, had somewhere to go in a hurry,” Santiago responded before taking a sip of his beer. 

Benny cocked his head to the side, eyeing Santiago. “He ok?”

“Yeah, Benny. All good, I checked. Don’t worry about it.” Santiago reassured him, seeing the tension in Benny’s shoulders release.

“Benny, I hear you signed yourself up for a fight?” Lucille perked up.

“Ah, y-yeah, I did do that. Wanna come watch?”

“No se, mi amor. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Ah no te preocupes, Lulu. We won’t let anything happy to him,” Santiago winked. “He’s training and he’ll be ready, right Ben?”

“Yeah. It’s going to be all good, Lulu. You’ll see. Nothing’s gonna happen to this pretty face,” Benny snorted as they all laughed.

“Shit, ok, ah…you swear you aren’t going to let me fall, right?” Katie raised her eyebrow as Will stood in front of her, taking both of her hands in his as he led her to the edge of the rink.

“I promise, you’re good. I won’t let anything happen. Just put one foot in front of the other,” he gave her a reassuring smile and she took a deep breath, extending a shaky foot to the slick surface of the rink. “Good, ok and the other, I’ll keep you steady.”

Katie took another breath as her foot left the carpet and met the other on the skating rink floor. “Oh shit,” she bit her lip as Will steadied her.

“You’re doing great, Kat.”

“I haven’t done anything yet,” she laughed. 

“Yeah, but you actually got out here, I feel like that’s a win already,” he smiled, his tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip. “Here, you don’t have to do anything, just keep your knees bent a little and I’ll just guide you around first. Keep holding my hands.”

Will started skating backward as Katie clutched his hands and let him lead her around. She asked to stay as close to the wall as possible, a safety blanket she called it. They got about a quarter of the way around before Will coaxed her a little bit further away from the wall. By the time they finished their first lap around the rink, they were in the general flow of skaters, albeit going a lot slower.

“Yeah Katie, I see you boo!” David yelled out as she came by.

She took her focus off of her feet and looked up briefly to give David a weak smile, but the quick motion disoriented her a bit and she started to wobble. It all felt like it was going in slow motion and she felt her legs starting to give way beneath her.

“Whoa, whoa, steady,” Will let go of her hands and grabbed her by the waist and she grasped his shoulders. His strength managed to help keep her upright. “See, I told you I wasn’t going to let you fall,” he chuckled.

Katie could feel her cheeks on fire, knowing that so many eyes were on her, including the set of piercing blue ones in front of her. “Thanks.” She smiled as he straightened her back up again. He moved his hands from her waist as she simultaneously removed her hands from his shoulders. Their hands found each other again.

“Are you done? We can be done if you want,” Will searched her expression.

“No, it’s ok, just a little stumble,” she chuckled. “Let’s go around maybe once more?”

“Sounds like a plan,” he winked as they resumed their slow, but steady pace around the rink.

The rest of the party went by in a flash. The twins excitedly opened up their presents, thanking everyone and dolling out hugs and high-fives. That was followed up with everyone singing Happy Birthday, twice, once for each boy at David’s request. Before they knew it, a lot of the guests were starting to trickle out.

“You boys are sweet, but you don’t have to help clean up, we got it,” Olivia came over to Benny, Will, and Santiago who were walking around the tables picking up plates and cups.

“Nah, we don’t mind, it’s all good Liv,” Will smiled and Olivia felt her knees go weak. 

“Well, you’re all sweethearts. Did you have fun?”

“Hell…I mean heck yeah! I haven’t skated like that in forever,” Benny smiled.

“Plus it gave you two a chance to dress up, huh?” She pointed to Benny and Santiago, who both smirked.

“Couldn’t pass up the opportunity once you said costumes were encouraged,” Santiago tugged at the lapels of his jacket.

“You know, you look a lot like that guy,” Olivia observed.

“Oh no, please don’t tell him that. As if he didn’t have a big head already,” Benny shook his head as Will snorted.

Next Time on As the Mule Falls: A holiday approaches as the neighbors celebrate the Fourth of July. The entire Pike family arrives at Mule Fall Court, including an additional person who catches the eyes of one of the guys. Katie and Will continue to build their friendship. We learn a bit more about Frankie and this mystery woman.

A/N: Well, I hope that was fun! I'll stop being coy about it and finally reveal that my Frankie one-shot, Turbulence, is now officially part of Delta Landscaping canon. I think a couple of people may have picked up on this, which was exciting, but it’s been the plan all along. I have a few more Easter eggs like that up my sleeve. I will have a Part 2 for Turbulence coming out this week, and a Part 3 is planned which will bring that series up to date with the events in Delta Landscaping!

Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story. 

Taglist: @goodwithcheese / @gemmahale / @trulybetty / @noxturnalpascal / @periodtsparadox / @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin / @maggiemayhemnj / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @avastrasposts / @meveispunk / @chaoticfestninja / @beboldbebravethings / @casa-boiardi / @katw474 / @linzels-blog / @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain / @pimosworld / @lynnchun / @anoverwhelmingdin /@lilmizmoz / @pedrit0-pascalit0 / @titlee78 / @noisynightmarepoetry / @inept-the-magnificent / @perennialdoll247 / @for-a-longlongtime / @readingiskeepingmegoing / @harriedandharrassed / @musings-of-a-rose / @anavatazes / @sherala007 / @midnightraain / @partyofone3413 / @inthedarkestnight / @millennial-teenybopper / @csarab615 / @darkheartgatita / @southernbe / @weho2kcmo / @itspdameronthings

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Another Lie || CL16 {3}

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst WC: 1.1k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four

The hours were already creeping into the afternoon when you woke to the soft sounds of the piano in the living room. The keys had gone unused for months, since Charles left the prized possession behind when he moved out. You should have taken it as a sign that he was always planning to come back.

Slipping out of the bed, you wrapped a silk robe around your body and quietly followed the music that drifted down the hall. His back was to you as the smooth expanse warmed by the sunlight that bathed the open room, not a single scratch to be seen between the constellation of beauty spots that dotted across his lightly tanned shoulders. 

Last night had ended gently, with Charles' body curled up behind yours and his fingertips softly tracing the curves of your body. He had kissed your shoulder blade as his hand eased your leg over his and your back arched as you welcomed more of his touch.

Charles’ sigh had teased your ear when he buried himself in you and held you close. There had been no rush to his slow strokes. He hadn’t been chasing release from whatever it was he had been feeling. He had been completely present in the moment, wanting it to last as long as possible in case it didn’t happen like that again.

Before you reached him he shifted along the bench to make room for you. You silently slipped onto the seat, feeling his warmth spread through the silk as he continued the song you didn’t recognise.

“Like it?” he asked as the last note faded out.

“Mhmm,” you hummed as you rested your head on his shoulder. “What’s it called? I don’t remember hearing it before.”

“It’s new,” he said with a smile before kissing your forehead. “Doesn’t have a name yet.”

Your head shot up in surprise. “You wrote it?”

“For us.” His smile faded as he looked back at the keys and pressed a few in different variations. “I just don’t know how it ends.”

“You’ll figure it out.” You rose from the bench and made your way to the kitchen as he closed the piano lid before following. A small part of you wished he had remained at the piano since you had missed the lazy Sundays he would spend playing for you. Those hours spent on the balcony with a hot drink while watching the birds gliding over the water were some you savoured most of all.

Whatever white flag had flown overnight was slowly being lowered as he watched you from the breakfast bar. He cracked his knuckles impatiently before changing the order of his rings and sighing as you still said nothing, keeping yourself busy as you made two coffees.

“So,” he started as you placed his favourite mug in front of him, his hand catching your waist before you could head back to the fridge and start breakfast. “Dinner tonight.”

“It’s not your birthday anymore, there’s no more wishes.”

“I want you there.” He pulled you onto his lap. “As my girlfriend.”

“I get you don’t want to upset your mother but I can’t keep pretending everything is fi-” He silenced you with a kiss and your hands started to slide over his chest before you caught yourself and pulled away. “Cha, stop doing that.”

“It’s always been you for me, always. And I know I’ve treated you like shit but give me a chance to show you I can change, that I can make it up to you. Please?”

His eyes held the same hopeful innocence look that hadn’t changed in all the years you had known him and your shoulders dropped the longer you stared into them. “Please?”

“One more chance, I’m serious, Charles.”

He caught your chin and tipped it back as he stared right back, his lips pressed in a hard line. “And I’m serious, no more drugs.”

“If you keep your promise then I’ll keep mine.” You leaned into his touch and he guided your lips to his, savouring the relieved sigh he exhaled before they sealed the promise.

One month. 

That was all it took for the freshly repaired cracks in the relationship to be destroyed once again. 

You didn’t even feel hurt as you stood in the bedroom, opening your suitcase with shaking hands, there was nothing left to feel. He had lied. It wasn’t a surprise, but you wished it was, at least then you could have told yourself you had believed him when he said forever.

Your phone hadn’t stopped vibrating with his calls that you ignored. Every time his name showed up on the screen you saw the censored pictures on the news, the article heading enough to tell you everything you needed to know. What happens in Vegas…doesn’t always stay in Vegas. 

You didn’t know who the woman was with the blurred out face, but it didn’t matter. If it wasn’t her, it would have been someone else.

Your vision blurred and you startled as you touched the trail of tears running down your cheeks. Maybe you weren’t as numb as you thought, maybe this was shock settling in. Maybe you had believed him.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” you growled as you wiped them away and zipped the overflowing bag shut.

Declining the call that came in, you made a call of your own and your throat closed as a sleepy voice answered.

“Sweetie, do you know what time it is?”

“Ma,” you choked on a sob as she immediately started to wake your father. “I’m coming home.”

“I thought Monaco was your home?”

You shook your head, displacing more tears and started to wheel the luggage to the door. “No, there’s nothing left here for me anymore.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she said softly and you heard the kettle start to boil in the background.

“Me too, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Do you want to talk about it? I’m assuming this is to do with Charles.”

You didn’t bother to correct her on the pronunciation this time. “Not at the moment. I’ll have my flight details emailed to you when I get to the airport.”

“Okay, darling, we’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“Love you too, ma.”

There were no words you could put on a piece of paper that could explain to him that there were no more chances. You placed your phone on the table with the keys for the apartment and nodded to yourself, that would be enough.

This was his city and remaining here only had one ending. But you were done lying to yourself and you were done listening to his lies no matter how sweet they sounded. You were going to keep your promise, no more drugs. No more Charles. You were going clean and removing yourself from the temptation.

The door sealed shut behind you as you whispered your final farewell to the memories that had been made in the home. But it wasn’t your home any longer, just like you weren’t his.

“Goodbye, Charles.”

Click here for part four.

[ereardon]

Friends Don't || Chapter 2

Summary: Bob Floyd has been your best friend for almost a decade, ever since he quietly agreed to tutor you in college. The two of you have spent years chasing each other around the globe – Bob as a WSO, you as a travel blogger. You’ve always been the anywhere-but-here girl, and he’s been your rock. But when a surprise diagnosis threatens to crumble your picture-perfect life, you’re on the first flight back to San Diego, desperate to put down roots for the first time. Will Bob finally have it in him to admit that you could be the love of his life? What will he say when he finds out the secret you’ve been skillfully hiding from him? Or worse, what if he doesn’t find out until it’s too late? 

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x OC [Reid] 

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, mention of doctors/illness/crashes, illusion to death, blood

WC: 2.1K

Series masterlist here; previous chapter here; next chapter here

“Got everything you need, Sunny?” 

You turned around. Bob was standing in the doorway to your room, wearing a pair of blue striped pajama pants and a white t-shirt that hung off his lean frame. You smiled and nodded. “Think I’m good for the night at least.” 

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you crossed your bare legs and looked around the room. It was a mess. You were waiting on the rest of your stuff to get shipped from your Brooklyn apartment where you had been living for the last eight months, so all you had were the two suitcases that you’d taken on the plane, now spread out on the ground, their contents spilled across the hardwood floors. 

“Thanks for letting me stay,” you said quietly. 

Bob tipped his head. “Don’t have to thank me, darlin’. It’s your house now, too.” 

It was a sweet little two bedroom house, only a fifteen minute drive from the beach. But it was sparsely decorated. Your room had just a bed and a dresser, no art, no rugs, no lamps. “What are your thoughts on letting me redecorate, in that case?” 

He laughed. “What, you don’t like my style?”

“Bachelor chic? You’re about one step above a 20-something guy in Bushwick who has his mattress on the floor so that he’s closer to the Earth but the reality is that he has fifty dollars in his bank account so when he asks you on a date he takes you to his sweaty roof in July and plays shitty guitar music and tries to mansplain to you the difference between IPA and other beers.” 

Bob raised an eyebrow. “Tell me you haven’t actually met guys like that.” 

“Unfortunately, I’ve met every single kind of guy you could ever imagine.” 

“Well, if my options are Brooklyn douche or you redecorate, by all means Sunny, do whatever you’d like with the place. I’ll leave my credit card on the kitchen table.” 

You stood up and crossed the room. “No way. It’s on me. I want to do this for you. Make a nice house so one day you can have some lucky girl over and she won’t get the immediate ick when she sees that you still have gray sheets and brown towels.” 

“What’s wrong with gray sheets?” 

You shook your head. “Trust me, Bobby.” 

“Sure, honey,” he whispered. You took one step closer, wrapping your arms around him. Bob immediately folded you into an embrace, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“I missed you so much,” you whispered. “Thank God you’re home safe.” 

“Were you worried about me, Sunny?” he asked quietly, his low voice rumbling.  

“I worry about you every fucking day,” you murmured into his chest. “When you’re flying and I don’t know where you are. When you’re on the ground somewhere far from wherever I am. All I can think about is the next time we’re going to talk. The next time I'll know for a fact that you’re safe. And then that call comes and I’m elated. But it has to end sometime, right? So when it ends, the second you hang up, I’m back to being worried about you.” 

Bob pulled away, his hands folded into yours. “You worry too much, Reid. I’m always gonna be here for you. Always have been.” 

How could he forget? There was a reason you were scared all the time. You had almost lost him to the skies once. 

You were living in San Francisco and Bob was stationed out of Lemoore. It was the closest the two of you had ever lived since you graduated, four years prior. 

That’s when you got the call. 

“Reid Coleman?” 

You sat up straight at your desk chair, looking out the window over Market Street. If you really craned your neck, you could see the Ferry Building. “This is.” 

“I regret to inform you that Lieutenant Robert Floyd has been in an accident. You were listed as his emergency contact.” 

“Oh my God,” you whispered, heart plummeting in your abdomen. “Is he OK?” 

“He’s sustained injuries, ma’am,” the person on the other end of the line said. 

You didn’t even register that the phone had fallen from your grasp until you heard it drop to the floor at your feet. You were out the door in a second, practically barreling down to the lobby of the building, fingers shaking as you tried to search for rental cars nearby. 

The three-and-a-half hour drive went by in an instant, and it was the longest car ride you had ever been on. Every single second all you could think of was the fact that Bob could have died out there. 

And that the last thing you might have said to him was that you hated him. 

By the time you arrived on base it was dark. You barreled through the hospital doors, panting as you made your way to the nurses station. “Robert Floyd?” you asked, panicked. 

“And you are?” 

“His emergency contact.” 

The nurse nodded. “Follow me.” 

You trailed after her down the hallway, the clacking of your high heels on the linoleum floor the only noise in the sterile hallway. 

She stopped in front of the door. “He’s intubated,” she warned you. “So he can’t speak.” 

You nodded and she opened the door. But you weren’t ready for what you saw. Bobby, lying there on the bed, with a thick clear tube sticking out of his throat and mouth, taped to his lips, the whirring sound of the machines as they kept him alive. The way he practically blended into the white linens of the bed he looked so pale and fragile. 

You collapsed onto a chair next to his bed, taking his hand, the one that didn’t have an IV in it, into yours, letting your salty tears fall onto his cold skin. 

“Bobby,” you whispered, voice thick with tears and pain. “Honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please, Bobby, come back to me.” 

He stayed in a coma for three days. You spent nearly every waking moment at his bedside, watching him with bated breath, waiting for some semblance of life to overtake him because the boy lying there in that hospital bed was not your best friend. He was a stranger. He didn't look or feel at all like the boy you had come to love over the last seven years.

And then, on the third day, you heard a familiar voice. 

“Sunny?” 

It was dry and scratchy. That morning the doctors had taken out the intubation and said he was awake, and you had rushed over from the hotel. There were tears in your eyes as you bolted through the doorway to where Bob was sitting up in bed, his glasses settled on his nose, a slow pinkness coming back to his rounded cheeks. 

You bent in half over the edge of the bed, sobs wracking your body, silent tears streaming down your face. Bob reached out one hand, softly patting your hair. “Honey, don’t cry.” 

You pulled away, looking up into his familiar blue eyes. He had looked so small before, and that had terrified you. He looked like himself again. Like the Bobby who had picked you up and carried you halfway across campus when you accidentally stepped on a rusted nail and had to go to the ER. He looked like the Bobby who had dared you to go into the caves in Vietnam even though you were terrified of small spaces. He looked like the Bobby that you loved with every cell in your body. 

He looked like your Bobby again. 

“I thought I lost you,” you whispered. 

“Never going to lose me, darlin’,” he murmured back. 

You sniffled, gripping his hand. 

Bob’s eyes widened after a moment. Then, “Wait. Where’s Denver?” 

You raised your eyes to him, unable to say it but knowing that they could convey what had happened without words, and watched as your best friend fell apart right in front of you. 

***

“OK Floyd, spill.” 

“Spill what?” Bob asked, tossing down a hand of cards. Payback laid his cards down. Two pair. He grabbed the pile of chips in the middle of the table and slid them closer, stacking them up with his own poker chips. 

“About Reid, Floyd,” Phoenix said, exasperated. “These two boneheads,” she pointed at Hangman and Rooster, “want to know if she’s fair game.” 

“Hey!” Coyote pouted. “So do I.” 

Bob shook his head as Fanboy dealt a new round of cards. “She’s not my girlfriend, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“So we can ask her out,” Hangman was practically salivating. “Cause she’s hot as fuck.” 

Bob raised his head and glared at the blond. Hangman put his hands up in a defensive maneuver. 

“Woah, chill Floyd.” 

“She already turned you down, Bagman,” Phoenix chimed in. 

“She didn’t turn down Rooster,” Payback pointed out. “Or should I call him Chicken Man.” 

All eyes turned to Bradley, who took a sip of his beer. Then, “Never said I was gonna ask her out.” 

Bob sighed, trading in three cards from the five card draw. “Sunny is an adult,” he said. “She can do whatever she wants. So Rooster, if you want to ask her out, you’re free to. It’s up to her if she says yes or not.” 

Bradley nodded, tossing out one card, waiting for Fanboy to deal him a replacement. “Maybe I will.” 

Bob pursed his lips, grabbing for his beer glass, taking a chug and then slamming it down. He didn’t realize how forceful he was until the glass shattered on impact in his hand, sending beer rushing over the table and down the sides. Everyone jumped up in a panic. 

“Shit, baby on board, what the fuck?” Hangman called as he rushed to grab a roll of paper towels. 

“I’m sorry,” Bob shook his head. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“Come here,” Phoenix said, grabbing his arm and tugging him into the kitchen. She held his hand over the sink, pulling out a small splinter of glass from his palm, running the bloody hand under water. She doused it in soap and he winced at the sting. 

“Thanks,” Bob said as Phoenix wrapped his hand in a clean dish towel in Hangman’s kitchen. 

She looked up at him, knowingly. “You can say no to them, you know.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Phoenix sighed. “Yes you do. Reid. You don’t want those idiots to touch her.”

Bob grimaced. “She’s a big girl. If she wants to go out with them, she can.” 

“Just admit it,” Phoenix said. “She is more than just your best friend.” 

Bob’s blue eyes bore into hers. “Sunny is, and always will be, the love of my life. I’m just not hers.” 

***

You looked through the sliding glass door to where Bob was carefully peeling an orange at the kitchen table, his eyes glued on the TV hanging over the mantle. 

“Ms. Coleman, have you found a new physician in the San Diego area? If not, I can recommend one to you. But it’s imperative that you go in for new scans immediately.” 

You sighed. “I’m working on it.” 

“Ms. Coleman.” The voice on the other end of the line was hard. “This is no joking matter.” 

“Don’t you think I’m aware of that?” you hissed. 

“I’m going to email you a list of five physicians in the area.” 

“They’re going to say exactly what you said,” you whispered. 

“You need to get a second opinion. And either way, you need a local physician now that you’ve relocated.” 

“Fine,” you said. “Send me the names.” 

“Ms. Coleman?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Please make an appointment.” 

You clicked off the phone and slid open the door. Bob had moved to the couch, one arm slung over the low back. 

“Everything OK?” he asked. 

You nodded, walking around the edge of the couch and settling into the spot next to him. Without even thinking, you leaned into Bob’s side, letting his arm fall around your shoulders, tucking you into his side. 

“Sunny?” he asked softly. He read you like an open book. He could practically see the anxiety and tension radiating off of your skin. 

“I’m fine,” you whispered, looking up at him with a small smile before resting your head against his thigh, lifting your feet onto the other end of the couch, lying down so that Bob’s hand was now firmly pressed against the dip in your side where your ribcage ended. 

You closed your eyes, breathing in his familiar smell, letting yourself relax, feeling your heart rate slow. 

“Everything is going to be fine,” you murmured.

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[ladylooch]

I love how important communication between couples is reiterated on this blog. Can we see the conversation between Nico/Lexi or Lucie/Connor when they decide to no longer use condoms?

Craving some Lucie and Connor tonight, so let’s explore this with them, after their first time ditching condoms. Also, I did not intend to make this full blown smut. Blame 🧸 anon… hehe!

Lucie clicks and unclicks her gel pen fast as she reads over the first sentence in Chapter 17 of her Mass Communication textbook for the twentieth time. She glances up from her book, eyes locking on the side of her boyfriend’s head. It’s covered in a backwards Rangers hat where he sits on the couch playing Call of Duty.

“FUCK!” He screams, tossing his controller into the air with a spin. “Stop hiding like a bitch you fucking coward.” Lucie’s eyebrows weave together in an “are you serious” look. Connor glances over to her then chuckles. “Sorry. He’s messing with my ratio.” He shrugs his big, bare shoulders. 

Ratio? Lucie isn’t sure what he is talking about, but she’s too distracted to watch anyway. Just like she is too distracted to be reading this textbook. She puts the clicking end of the pen between her teeth, chewing it absentmindedly while her eyes drift out the window. Little flakes of snow fall down from the gray sky as her mind drifts again.

All Lucie has been able to think about today is what happened three mornings ago. Connor and her had ditched condoms for a moment and felt each other in the most intimate way you can. Lucie had loved it, fuck, she had even cried about it at the end, but when they had sex later that night, Connor had slipped a condom on before connecting them. Then the same thing happened the next two days. This is normal for them, but Lucie can’t stop thinking about how incredible it felt to have him in a way no one else ever has. She feels weirdly deprived now, not having his bare shaft stroking her inner walls to completion. 

She sighs distractedly, scratching at the back of her head before returning to her textbook. 

“Woo.” Connor cheers quietly, thrusting his hands up in the air. “Victory formation, baby!” He calls, making a double peace sign. He tosses his controller on the couch, then walks over to where she is at the dining room table. “Are you still on the same page you started on?” Connor asks after a quick kiss. “Am I being too loud?” 

“No.” Lucie shakes her head. “Just distracted.” Connor pouts down at her, rubbing his hand over her pony tail before kissing her again. 

“Can I help somehow?” He asks as he walks into the kitchen. He grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge, cracking it open to take a few gulps. Lucie chews her bottom lip, then ultimately shakes her head no at him. “Luc.” Connor says pointedly. She watches his approach back to her, then tilts her head up when he curls down to hover over her lips. “Wassup?” He slurs the word out.

“Did you not like the other day?”

“The other day…?” He trails off. “What do you mean?”

“When you… when we… um, had sex… without the condom. Wow, why was that so hard? Yes, when we had sex without the condom.” She says more assertively the second time.

“I loved it.” He says matter of factly. 

“Okay but we haven’t done it since?” Lucie asks with her eyes closed. Connor chuckles, the breath of it dancing across her face. 

“Do you want me to fuck you raw, Luc?” He asks, cupping her neck. His lips press hard to hers.

“Yes. Like every night for the rest of my life.” She whines, chasing his mouth when he pulls away too soon.

“I am craving you that way.” He says, locking eyes with her. “I cannot think about that morning without getting hard. I could have you that way for the rest of our lives and it still wouldn’t be enough for me to stop needing you.” Lucie’s pupils blow out in her brown eyes. Her breathing accelerates and she launches at him before she can remind herself of her test tomorrow morning. Connor hoists her up into his arms, putting her already wet core against the hard bulge of his cock. 

They blindly claw their way down the hallway until they get to Connor’s room. Lucie shoves at her leggings as Connor drops his sweatpants down to the ground, then steps out of them. He pushes Lucie’s sweatshirt off her, groaning when he sees her lack of a bra or t-shirt beneath. He cups her left breast, then sucks her nipple into his mouth. His tongue drags along the perked skin while Lucie eases her fingers through his hair. 

Normally, Connor would taste every crevice of her chest, but not now when his dick throbs so hard he can’t think straight. He pulls back quickly, gripping the base of his cock with three fingers, then slapping at her swollen clit. Lucie shakes beneath him. 

“Already shaking for me?” He smirks when their eyes meet. “Dying for this?” He places his head at her entrance, then gently glides in. Lucie’s wetness welcomes him warmly. Connor groans, unable to stop himself with how incredible she feels. “You drive me insane, Luc. So fucking insane. In the best way.” He moans as he thrusts hard into her.

Lucie wraps her legs around his waist, gripping his shoulders wildly as his tempo increases. Their connection fills the room with the sounds and smells of delicious sin. Connor wraps an arm around her hips, pulling her down into each of his forceful thrusts. Lucie takes him well, relaxing into it and letting him take her exactly how they both need. 

“Don’t stop, baby.” She grits into his cheek. “So good. So perfect for me.” Her head falls back, exposing her neck to him. He nips along her soft skin, eating her up as she reaches her high. She collapses around him, squeezing his cock. Connor shakes from the force of it, then settles her back into the bed so he can pump himself to his own orgasm. 

“Gonna fill you up every time you let me, sweet girl.” He groans before shooting creamy ropes into her. Lucie curls her finger nails into his biceps for her last few desperate shudders. Then she releases, stroking her finger prints over those indents to soothe his skin. She settles back into the bed, looking at him through hooded lids. 

“Fuck. That’s so good.” She laughs honestly. “Sooooooo good.” She drags out.

When her eyes open, Connor hovers over her face, a loving smile on his. 

“I love you.” He murmurs confidently. “You’re the love of my life, Luc. I trust you with everything... including my future.” 

“What’s that mean?” She whispers as he puts their foreheads together.

“That the second you became mine, I never saw myself with anyone else, ever again.” 

Lucie smiles. Connor kisses her again, getting mostly teeth and not caring. Lucie tries to stop smiling to kiss him, but can’t. 

He is everything she ever wanted.

[aheathen-conceivably]

🎶 You made me happy every single day, but now, I've got to go away 🎶

Things between Josephine and Giorgio had only grown more tense since she went back to work at the club. He knew that her business had gone under, but she still wouldn’t talk about it with him or anyone other than Zelda.

So every silent answer she gave or glare in his direction was perceived as her inability to rely on him, to simply trust him and let down her guard. In turn, she read his need for dependence as a desire to weaken her, and only continued to push him further away.

Yet still they chased after each other, both threatening to be the first to walk out the door but neither ever really intending to.

Even their usual cycles of fights and apologies had grown tainted by the widening rift and deepening distrust between them. It was as though neither of them really knew if any touch was genuine any longer, or if it was just a way to temporarily end what seemed like infinite hostility with no other solution.

Josephine’s nights weren’t any better. Being back at the club was like being in a prison of her mother’s design, trapped in some sort of distended version of the past where she had lost all of her autonomy again. She could never understand how Antoine worked here; even worse, how he continued to live in the same rooms above where she had so many memories.

But night after night she went into work, expertly pouring whiskey into crystal goblets and eyeing each and every man who spoke to her or any other woman, suspicious of their intentions and sick of their drunken glares.

That night had been no different, so mind-numbingly irritating that she had completely forgotten it was she and Gio��s four year anniversary. She had promised him that she would be home in time for them to have a midnight supper together; only now it was closer to daybreak than midnight, and she hoped he would be well asleep rather than up waiting for her, disappointed.

When she entered the apartment she knew that her hopes were dashed, as she could hear soft music coming from the gramophone in the kitchen. She entered the room to find Giorgio at the table, the half melted candles barely illuminating the pained impatience on his face.

She sat across from him, immediately donning her most apologetic countenance as she explained, “Gio, I’m so very sorry. The club ran late and I had to stay behind the bar…”

Giorgio gestured for quiet, “I’m not here to fight with you, Josephine. I’m here to tell you, to celebrate really…well, I bought a farm out West.”

Josephine shut her eyes to try and comprehend his words. Even at their worst, she never thought that he would leave her in the night, buy a house in some far-flung place and run halfway across the country.

“Josephine, before you answer, please listen. You have too much love and pride to see the writing on the wall, but my love, you must accept what is happening. Most of the old clubs are set for demolition; and you can hide it all you want but I know what happened with your business.”

Pride darkened Josephine’s expression but Gio held up his hand and spoke before she could, “Save your venom, Josephine. I told you I’m not here to fight. I’m serious about this, and it’s already done. It isn’t just this city you see…”

He explained exactly what he had said to Antoine, pointedly leaving out his own involvement with the city’s criminal underworld. Josephine was stunned into silence for the first time in her life. An economic crash? Leave New Orleans? For a bloody farm at that? All she had ever known was New Orleans; but New Orleans had failed her.

Giorgio reached across the table to grab her hand and pull her out of her reveries. His eyes and his grip held a thousand apologies, a concentrated effort of reconciliation for everything that had gone wrong between them, “Josephine, mi raccomando, my love, will you come with me?”