#and neither will i because i sure as shit don’t remember biting my fucking book

[rosalielesbianhale]

okay but... why are there actual bite marks on my twilight book from when I was a teenager?

#.....was i using it instead of a bookmark? #was i just too overwhelmed by the story? #the world may never know #and neither will i because i sure as shit don’t remember biting my fucking book #i am just baffled #rereading #twilight #pbm #my shit

[mostly-marvel-musings]

How about a smut prompt no. 7 with Tony Stark ? ❤❤❤❤

Love to lose

A/N: Thanks for requesting this lovely! Hope you like it :))

Gif’s not mine! Credits to the owner

Prompts used: Oral sex & “First one to make a noise loses.”

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, it’s dirty okay...

Word count: 2k

Requests & Challenges

Tony Stark Taglist: @raspberrymama @boop-le-snoot @ladyeliot @make-a-memory-drink-it-up @loveisallyouneed1125 @ownsmyheart @anthonyjanthony666 @downeyreads @the-secret-thief @getlostsquidward @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @elemephstudies @mycosmicparadise @feetoffthetablee

Everything Taglist: @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @suchababie @another-stark-sub @littlegasps @kahlanmars @supraveng @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry

Taglists open! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be in any of these ;))

.

“First one to make a noise loses? Seriously?”

“Yeah!”

“No!”

“I honestly thought you’d be more adventurous Tony.”

“Honey you’ll get all the adventure you want once I’m done with this project. You remember the night of four times, don’t you?”

Tony raised an eyebrow and smirked as your eyes lit up with thoughts of the night he mentioned, cheeks growing warm as your mind flooded with memories of the aforementioned night.

That night you’d lost all sense of cognition and your legs were pure jelly from being utterly fucked out.

It was never a dull moment when it came to you and Stark in the bedroom. He knew all the right ways to drive you crazy and you had come to learn to push all the right buttons to drive him insane.

“Tony come on! I know you’re up for it.”

You pointed to the half-mast erection currently staring back at you.

He glanced down at it before shaking his head and returning to the screen, soon getting engrossed in the information displayed in front of him. Eyebrows knitting together in concentration while his fingers flew over the surface, probably in search of something you didn’t care about.

You scowled for a little while, arms crossed over your chest before walking towards him with a look of determination that hid unattended lust.

Tony didn’t mind you stepping in between his legs as he leaned against the table behind, until you ghosted your fingers over the button of his denims.

Once you popped it open and undid his fly, he shot you a warning look before his phone rang, giving you time to push the jeans and his boxers down just enough to let his erection bounce free.

“You’re free to do whatever you want only if you’re prepared for the consequences sweetheart.” He warned before answering Phil Coulson’s call.

Desire bloomed deep in your belly as his words sent tingles down your spine, knowing the punishment would either be really good or really bad, depending on Tony’s mood. But you were willing to take the risk, it was always worth it in the end.

Shrugging, you dropped down to your knees, his semi-erect cock waiting for your ministrations as you eyed it before gazing up at Tony through your eyelashes innocently.

He was deep in conversation on the phone but the tight grip of his free hand on the edge of the counter and tapping of fingers against the surface indicated he was waiting for you to make your move.

Tony exhaled a breath he was unconsciously holding as your hand wrapped around his length. Taking your time with it, your hand lazily stroked his cock, thumb brushing over the tip every now and then.

“Please I understand Agent, don’t bore me with those unnecessary details..oh!”

Glancing down, he suppressed the rest of his reaction as your tongue joined the party. Small kitten licks over the tip before you drew a strip all the way to the base, all the while watching his demeanour change from composed to flustered.

You took him in your mouth and began swirling your tongue around his length, smirking when he faltered and brought his hand down to move your hair out of your face.

“I’m going over the details n-now. Oh yes—yes I’ll call Fury once I’m—I’m almost done here.”

Tony didn’t wait for Coulson to answer before he cut the call and practically threw the phone away. Letting out a groan, he jerked his hips forward, pushing himself deeper in your mouth as he grabbed you by your hair roughly, guiding your mouth over his cock.

“You’re in so much trouble baby...”

You simply hummed in response, continuing to finish him off as you increased your speed, feeling him twitch against your lips already. The little grunts Tony uttered spurred you on to bring him closer and closer to climax. Your own arousal had turned your panties moist as you watched his lust-blown eyes shut and bite his lip.

“Ah shit! You want me to cum in your mouth?”

You nodded eagerly as Tony’s hips jolted forward and he cursed out loud before shooting spurts of cum down your throat, face contorted in pleasure as he emptied himself, the warm salty liquid travelling down your throat.

He grabbed you by the back of your neck, making you stand before crashing his lips to yours, tasting himself as you deepened the kiss. You moved your clothed core over his softened cock to get some friction, gaining another groan from Tony who felt how moist you were.

“So wet my dirty girl. Will you give me an hour? I promise I’ll make it worth it.” Tony whispered softly, grabbed your hips to stop your grinding. Reluctant to let you go but the urgency with which Phil had called left him with no other choice than to make you wait.

“Fine. But if you’re late…”

“Trust me babe. I’ll be there sooner than you think.”

“Whatever.” He pecked your pouted lips one last time as you pulled his pants back up, turning to walk upstairs to your shared bedroom.

“Don’t touch yourself.”

“You’re in no position to make demands Stark.”

“Am I not?” Even with your back to him, you could sense he was giving you ‘the look’. The one that screamed ‘no matter what, I’m always in charge’. The man was really going to be the death of you some day.

“Ugh. Fine. Hurry up.”

.

“Okay so we need to establish some ground rules first.”

Your eyes snapped up from the book you were pretending to read as Tony swung the bedroom door and got in, locking it before sliding in next to you, resting his back against the headboard.

You were celebrating your victory on the inside because just minutes ago he’d made fun of you for coming up with this game, only to now come up with modifications for the same.

Like a good girl you had behaved, controlled the urge to bring yourself to an orgasm after that little session downstairs. You were still wet, which meant he already had more chances of winning at your game.

This was a bad idea. Why hadn’t you thought this through?

“Hon?”

“Huh?”

“The rules?”

Mentally shaking yourself for zoning out, you sat up straight and faced him.

“Alright. Whines are allowed. Moans aren’t.”

“Fair enough.”

“No oral sex.”

“Not acceptable. You know I owe you for that amazing blow-job. Come on now..”

“Fine. But no fingering.”

Tony made a non-committal huff but agreed, knowing how much his fingers spurred you on.

You went back and forth discussing, rejecting and accepting the terms and conditions as if it were a legit deal.

Soon after you shook on it, there was a switch in the air and neither of you felt the need to say much else except get on with the game.

Climbing in Tony’s lap, you cupped the sides of his face and pressed your lips to his. Softly grazing against each other at first while you fingers teased the base of his neck.

He carded his hands through your hair before pulling you against his chest, hands now splayed across your back as he slanted his mouth over yours and deepened the kiss.

Maneuvering a little so his legs straightened out on the bed, Tony heard a tiny sigh escape your lips as your aroused core met with his growing bulge. Keeping those noises that threatened to leave your mouth turned out to be harder than you had both imagined. You two were quite vocal when it came to sex.

It was difficult, but all the more exciting.

After a while, the make-out session turned out to be insufficient and Tony had you on your back, your clothes removed and thrown carelessly somewhere behind as he settled between your legs.

You had to bite back a moan as Tony’s lips travelled down your neck, littering tiny kisses all over the skin before he found that junction where your neck met your shoulder, the pulse point which he so generously marked a spot on, sure to leave a purple bruise in its place. On cue, your head moved aside to grant him more access as your breaths turned to pants, finding it hard not to think about his bulge that was rubbing so deliciously against your heated core in slow but deliberate thrusts.

You had to push him away to make sure you didn’t lose so soon, that sure earned a chuckle from the genius. Moving further south, he latched onto one of your nipples and flicked his tongue along the bud all the while massaging and kneading the other in his hand. A sigh had involuntarily slipped out, it wasn’t breaking any rules but it sure made Tony gaze up with lust-blown eyes as a smirk appeared on that handsome face.

Trailing kisses along your navel, he reached between your legs and stopped. You shot him a warning look as you sat up on your elbows when his fingers teased along your wet folds, causing him to throw his hands up in surrender before diving in face first into your pussy.

Closing a hand over your mouth, you let your head fall back onto the pillows as Tony licked a fat strip along your wetness, his nose brushing against your bundle of nerves. It didn’t take long for you to feel your heartbeat on your throbbing clit, Tony leaving no stone unturned to make sure you were a needy mess below him.

“What was that baby girl?” He purred, facial hair glazed with your juices when he emerged, giving you a shit-eating grin after you shook your head.

You were so close.

Flipping you on your stomach, you heard him unbutton his jeans and drop them in a low thud on the ground. His hands pulled your ass up in the air, urging the cheeks apart before his cock met your entrance, gathering your wetness, your pussy aching for release at this point.

“Tony..”

“Giving up already?”

Instead of answering, you reached behind, grabbed his cock in your hand and lined him up at your entrance before pushing your hips back. Both of you swallowed your groans as he bottomed out, stretching your walls to the fullest before pulling all the way out and thrusting in.

Your knuckles turned white from gripping the sheets as you were almost ready to give up and accept defeat, until you felt his cock twitch inside you, a sign Tony wasn’t too far along from doing the same either.

Your walls clenched around his cock deliberately, hugging it in their wet warmth and eliciting an involuntary groan from the man.

“What was that honey?”

You teased, repeating the action only to have Tony pull out suddenly, turn you around once more and pull your legs over his shoulder before entering you again.

“You fucking tease..”

“You’re the one to talk. Now shut up and fuck me.”

Snapping his hips to yours at a furious pace, Tony gripped your legs roughly and bit your ankle. The silly little game long forgotten, you let out a pornographic moan as you felt the muscles in your belly contract, thighs tremble and mind turn into a fuzzy blur.

“Cum with me Tony..” you begged as he let go of your legs and buried his face in your neck, a hand snaking downward to rub your oversensitive clit.

“Do that thing again.”

His urgent whisper came out muffled by your hair but you knew what he was talking about. You granted his wish by pulling on his cock with your walls and felt his hips lose their rhythm. He came loud and hard, spilling inside you in spurts triggering your own orgasm as you cried out, digging your nails in his back as you shuddered.

Once you felt yourself float back down to reality, you brought your hands to caress Tony’s hair while he chuckled against the skin on your neck, repeatedly kissing you over there.

“It’s a draw then?” He mumbled.

“Yep.”

“You want a rematch?”

“Definitely.”

#tony stark smut #tony stark x you #tony stark x reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark imagine #tony stark oneshot #tony stark fic #iron man x you #iron man fluff #tony stark fluff

[marauders-venting]

The Staircase Knows

pairing: none (this isn’t a romantic fic)

genre: fluff (mostly)

warnings: internalised transph*bia, mentions of (period) blood, (just note that they are young in this fic and they have simple ideas of gender so don’t come for them)

words: 2612

note: thank you so much to @samyistrying for doing a sensitive reading of my fic and teaching me more about trans identities!!

a/n: in this fic Remus is trans and uses he/him and Dorcas is woman-aligned non-binary person and uses she/they

please know that i am not a trans man!! I read about the experiences of trans men on the internet and other fics with trans characters before writing this so I hope i’ve portrayed this fairly and accurately (but obviously, every trans man has a different experience). if something sounds wrong or offensive to you please let me know!! I’m still young and i want to learn more and improve so that i can make my writing more inclusive

Remus woke up with a groan. He’d had a stomach ache since last night and it hadn’t gotten any better. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tossed the blanket off him. Upon sitting up, he noticed several red spots on the sheet of his bed. What the… he stood up and saw a big red stain where he had just been sitting. Blood. He quickly scanned the room and found that Sirius was the only one there, still drooling on his pillow. Remus covered the bed with his blanket to hide the stain and hurried to the bathroom. He pulled down his pants and found that both his underwear and his pants were stained with blood. His hands began to tremble. They would know now. He couldn’t hide this from them. All his friends would know that he wasn’t a real boy. A sob escaped him and he covered his mouth with his hand to try and stifle the sound. But it was too late. There was a knock on the door.

“Remus?” came Sirius’ voice. “Remus, is everything ok?” Remus tried to compose himself and give a proper answer but he was crying too hard. “Remus, what’s going on?” Sirius’ voice sounded urgent. “There’s blood on your blanket Remus, what happened?” Fuck. In his rush, he hadn’t noticed that the blanket had been stained too.

“Everything’s fine,” Remus said, but even he could hear how shaky and unconvincing his voice sounded.

“Can I come in?” Sirius asked softly.

“No!” Remus said.

“Remus, if one of your scars have started bleeding again—”

“No, no it’s not that,” Remus said. “I swear, I’m not injured. I’m fine.”

“So where did the blood come from?” Sirius asked.

“I—” Remus knew he couldn’t keep this hidden forever. It was only a matter of time before his friends found out. They had accepted him as a werewolf, sure. But there’s no way they would want a girl sleeping in their dorm. They’d find it too weird. And they’d be mad at him for lying to them so they wouldn’t want to stay friends. It was over. He’d only known James, Sirius and Peter for three years but they’d been the three best years of his life, except maybe the years before he’d been bitten by Greyback but he could hardly remember that anyway.

He’d known that they would find out eventually. But he had hoped for a little more time. The universe never seemed to be on his side though, and the sooner he accepted it the better.

“Just give me one second,” he said to Sirius. He composed himself, wiped the tears off his face, hid the blood as best he could and opened the door.

“Remus, what’s going on?” Sirius said, concern shining through his eyes. “Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure,” Remus said. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Ok,” Sirius said. “What is it?”

He was tempted to say, “nevermind” and crawl into bed with a book but he knew that would only make Sirius more curious. There was no backing out of this now.

“Remus, are you sure you’re ok?” Sirius asked, gently. Remus realised he had not spoken for several moments and was just standing there, hands clenched, chewing the inside of his cheeks raw.

“Yeah everything’s fine,” Remus said, trying to relax his muscles. “I just… I just wanted to tell you…” I can’t do this I can’t do this I can’t do this, Remus thought. Alarms were going off in his head, warning him not to go any further, not to say another word. Shut up. He felt as though a block in his throat was preventing him from speaking. And breathing. He tried to take a deep breath but found himself hyperventilating instead. Fuck.

“Remus, what’s going on? You’re scaring me,” Sirius said urgently.

“No, it’s nothing to worry about,” Remus said, his muscles tensing up again. “I need to tell you… that…” He hung his head and closed his eyes. He couldn’t do this.

“You’re shivering,” Sirius said. “Come on. Sit down and tell me.” Sirius took Remus by the wrist and started leading him out of the bathroom but Remus flinched and pulled his hand out of Sirius’ grasp.

“Sorry,” Sirius said, the guilt seeping through his voice.

“No, don’t be, I… I’d rather stand though… here if that’s ok.” That part wasn’t true. Remus’ legs were shaking and he was sure they’d collapse in on themselves at any moment but he couldn’t sit and cover everything with blood. So he’d stand.

“Yeah, of course,” Sirius said. “Whatever you want.” But Remus still wasn’t saying anything. He just stood, biting his lip. He couldn’t do this. But Sirius didn’t ask Remus to speak again. Remus appreciated that. How did Sirius always know exactly how to help him? Well, it didn’t matter. Sirius would be leaving him soon. Any minute now. As soon as Remus managed to get the words out of his mouth. Better sooner than later, I suppose, he thought.

“Ok,” said Remus, exhaling loudly, “ok, there’s something I need to tell you. It’s not a big deal, really, I’ve made it out to be more than it is. Basically…” Breathe, he told himself, just breathe and go on. “I—” Remus tried to release the tension but he couldn’t. “I—” He got stuck again.

“Remus, it’s ok,” Sirius said. “Whatever it is, it’ll be fine, I promise.” Remus nodded and tried to take a deep breath.

“I’m transgender,” Remus said. Sirius was quiet for a moment. He seemed to be thinking.

“As in you transitioned from girl to boy or you want to transition from boy to girl?”

“As in I transitioned from girl to boy,” Remus said. He was digging his nails into his upper arm, a nervous habit. “I’m a trans boy.”

“I don’t understand,” Sirius said. “What does that have to do with the blood?”

“What? Oh, um, I got my period. I think.”

“Oh,” Sirius said. “Does it hurt?”

“W–what?” Remus asked, looking at him.

“Does it hurt?” Sirius asked again. “Do you need me to get you something?”

“No,” Remus said. “I mean, yeah it kinda hurts. I’ve got stomach cramps but the werewolf stuff is… is worse.”

“Ok,” Sirius nodded.

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Remus said. Sirius may be acting like everything is ok but Remus knows it’s not. There’s no way Sirius is ok with this. He can’t be.

“What are you talking about?” Sirius said. “You didn’t lie to me.”

“Yeah, I did. I told you that I’m a boy, when really… really I’m… a girl.”

“Hey, Remus, listen to me,” Sirius said. “You are not a girl. So you don’t have a penis. So what? Who gives a fuck? It doesn't make you less of a boy. You can be whatever gender you want, Remus. Whatever gender you are. Are you a boy?”

“I mean, yeah but—”

“Then there’s no ‘but’,” Sirius said. “You are a boy. Case closed.” Remus nodded.

“Thank you, Sirius,” he said, quietly.

“Anytime,” Sirius said, putting an arm around Remus

“But James and Peter—”

“Will be fine with it as well,” Sirius said, cutting Remus off before he could voice his worries. “Trust me, Remus, they won’t care. And neither do I. You are who you say you are. And I’ll support you. And James and Peter will too. But you don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to. It’s entirely up to you.” Remus nodded.

“I think… could we just… keep this between us? Just for a while…” Remus said. “I… I want to tell them just not… not now…”

“Of course,” Sirius said. “Take your time. But whenever you’re ready, it will be fine.”

“Ok,” Remus said, still unsure. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Sirius said, smiling. “Ok, I don’t know shit about periods but do you want me to get Lily to help you with this? Or someone else?”

“One of the other girls, you mean,” Remus said, clenching his jaw. There was no escaping this.

“No, one of the other people who have periods,” Sirius said. “Dorcas isn’t a girl, are they? But she still has a period.” Remus hesitated for a second.

“Ok, get Lily but don’t… don’t tell her about this,” he said. “I think I should be the one to tell her. Just tell her I need some help.”

“Ok,” Sirius said. “I’ll be right back. And Remus?”

“Yeah?”

“Everything’s going to be ok,” Sirius said, pulling him in for a hug. “Nobody is going to look at you any differently because of this. Just like none of us looked at you differently when we found out about your furry little problem. This changes nothing.” Remus smiled a little.

“Thank you, Sirius,” he said. “Really, it… it means a lot to me.”

“Of course,” Sirius said. “I’ll go get Lily then.” And he turned and walked out the door, leaving Remus a little breathless, though he wasn’t quite sure why.

---------

“Remus?” Lily’s voice called. “Remus, what’s wrong? Sirius told me you needed help. Where are you?”

“I’m in the bathroom,” Remus said.

“Oh,” Lily hesitated. “Do you… do you want me to come in?”

“Don’t worry, I’m wearing clothes,” Remus said.

“Oh ok,” Lily said and the door swung open. “What’s wrong?”

“Ok um,” Remus started. He was struggling to breathe again. Why did this have to be so difficult? “I… um— fuck,” he said under his breath.

“Remus, it's ok,” she said. “Whatever it is, you can tell me, I promise. You’re my best friend.” Remus nodded.

“Ok so—” he took a deep breath, “I’m trans. I–I’m a boy but I-I still have a period and… and…”

“Oh Remus,” she said, hugging him. “Thank you so much for telling me. I’m so proud of you. And you know this doesn’t change anything. You’re still my best friend and you’re still a boy.”

“Thanks,” Remus said. “Really, Lils, thank you.”

“So you got your period, huh?” she says.

“Yeah,” Remus nods. “And everything is covered in blood and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”

“Ah well, welcome to the other side where chocolate and tea and hot packs are our best friends,” Lily said, laughing. “Although I guess that’s not new to you. Ok don’t worry, I’ll help you with this. It’s gonna be fine.” Remus nodded, unable to say anything. “So as usual magic makes everything a whole lot easier because there are spells for practically anything. I think I actually have some pads in my bag so how about I show you how to use those and then you can shower and change and I’ll teach you how to remove blood stains from everything?”

“Thank you so much, Lily, you’re a lifesaver,” Remus said, hugging her.

“Of course,” Lily said, pulling what Remus assumed was a pad out of a small pouch in her bag. “I learnt all the spells and stuff from Marlene so it’s just nice to have someone to pass on the knowledge to myself.” She opened the pad and showed it to Remus. “This is a pad,” she said. “You just peel it off this paper part and stick it in the middle of the underwear. And you see these flaps? You fold them underneath the underwear to hold the pad in place. Get it?”

“I think so,” Remus said. “I guess I’ll find out.”

“Ok I’ll wait in the room,” Lily said. “Just call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks a million, Lils,” Remus said again.

“Anytime, Rem.”

So Remus showered and put on clean clothes and a pad for the first time. Then he came out of the bathroom and found Lily sitting on the floor with her back against the closet.

“You know you could’ve sat on one of the beds right?” Remus said.

“I like the floor,” she said. He raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “What? I’m serious, I like the fl— oh no, wait! I didn’t mean to say I’m serious, please don’t make the pun!”

“Oh calm down, I’m not James,” he said. Lily shrugged.

“Ok so now I’ll teach you the spell to remove the bloodstains,” she said, standing up. She showed him the wand movement and the incantation, providing an example on his blood-stained sheets. The blood siphoned away within seconds and left no trace. Remus tried it on his blood-stained clothes with the same result.

“You should put everything in the laundry anyway though,” Lily said, “the spell removes the visible stains but it doesn’t actually clean things.”

“Lily, thank you so much for this,” Remus said after everything had been cleaned. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Aww, of course, Rem,” she said. “And you can always ask me for help, whatever you need.”

“Thanks,” he said. “You really are the best. So is there anything else you think I should know?”

“Um,” she thought, “I mean, I guess there are tampons but most people don’t use them on their first period anyway so we can wait with that. But I will give you a couple of packs of pads because you’ll need those.”

“Ok thanks,” he said.

“Remus, how many times have you said thank you in the last five minutes?” Lily asked.

“I don’t know,” Remus shrugged. “As many times as you deserved to hear it.”

“Shut up, I should be thanking you,” she said, hugging him. “I know it wasn’t easy for you to tell me this,” she said, quieter now. “But I’m so glad that you did. And I’m always here for you.”

“Tha—”

“Don’t say thank you!” she said.

“Fine then,” he said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Rem.”

They went back downstairs, where they found their friends sitting in the common room, talking.

“I’ll be right back,” Lily said and then quietly so only Remus could hear, she added, “I’ll just get the pads from my dorm.”

“I’ll come with you,” he said, following her towards the staircase to the girl’s dormitory.

“But Remus—” he heard James call out. He knew what James was going to say. Lily went up the stairs and Remus, hesitating only for a second, followed her up. Or at least, he tried. But he only made it up two steps before the staircase turned into a slide and he slid to the bottom, Lily slipping down as well and crashing into him.

“Maybe you should wait here,” Lily said, as they stood up and the slide turned back into a staircase.

“Ok,” Remus said, smiling wide.

“Why would you do that?” James asked, confused. “You knew it wouldn't work.”

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” Remus said, sitting beside Sirius. He couldn’t hide his smile but Sirius grinned back.

“Why are you two smiling like that?” Peter asked.

“It’s a nice day,” Sirius said. “Don’t you think?”

“Uh, sure,” Peter said.

“It’s a nice day to leave dungbombs in the Slytherin common room if that’s what you mean,” James said, a mischievous grin stretching across his face.

“Yeah,” Sirius said, glancing at Remus. “That’s what I mean.”

From that day, whenever the dysphoria became too much for Remus and nothing his friends said made him feel better, he’d wait until everybody went to sleep and would go sit on the stairs to the girls’ dormitory that would immediately turn into a slide when he took the first step. He’d sit there and remind himself that everything is ok. He knows who he is. His family knows who he is. His friends know who he is. Even the staircase knows.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #trans remus lupin #sirius black #sirius black fluff #moony #padfoot #lily evans #lily evans fluff #james potter #james potter fluff #peter pettigrew #Marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders oneshot #young marauders

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Something Blue {1}

Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing, Angst, Plot

Words: 3.9k

Summary: Nah!

Note: Please enjoy. As always, thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG! ❤️❤️

 ***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

~~~~~~~~~~~

“What time does your flight land?”

 You glanced at your watch while balancing your phone and your seventh glass of champagne.

 “Seven. We haven’t even taken off yet, Eve. Oh god, I should have just taken the bus. You know what? It’s not too late.” You gulped down the remainder of your champagne then began gathering your things.

 “No, no. sit your ass down. A bus will double your travel time, and you’re already late. You should have been here this morning,” Eve whined over the Facetime call.

She was right. You were only stuck in this predicament because you had to take one more meeting wanting to maximize the time you were in New York instead of stopping when you should have to catch the right bus.

 “I hate flying, Eve,” you whined.

 It had always been this way, and it hadn’t changed. At this point, you doubted it ever would.

 “I get that, but you’re my maid of honor. You have to be here. You’ve already missed the welcome brunch and the bonding games. You have to make dinner.”

 Sighing, you dropped back into the seat. Your fate was sealed. “Okay,” you whispered.

 “It’ll be fine. It’s one hour and sixteen minutes. You’ll be fine.”

 Closing your eyes, you took slow, deep breathes and tried to focus on happy, positive thoughts.

 “At least you’re in first class where you can have all the champagne you want. Take advantage. I have to go.”

 With that, the conversation ended. You still tried to focus on your breathing and not the fact you were in a containment cell that was designed like a plane that would fly thousands of feet into the air. You also tried not to think of the fact that at any moment, this flying containment cell could fall out of the sky, having you plummet to your death. Groaning, you squeezed the armrest.

 “Can I get you anything else, ma’am?”

 Even the chirpy sound of the flight attendant’s voice was irritating. You took a deep breath but didn’t open your eyes.

 “Champagne, a whole lot of champagne, please.”

 “A glass?”

 “Just bring the bottle. I’ll pay. I don’t care.”

 As you waited for her to come back with the champagne, you tried to imagine yourself on a tropical island somewhere. You tried to envision the feel of the sun, the scent of the salty sea, and even the taste of the Mai Tai you would be holding. You were successful, but only barely.

 “Here you are one bottle of champagne. Just for you.”

 You opened your eyes to glare at the flight attendant. You could hear the shade and judgment in her voice, and you were not in the mood. What your eyes met; she was the first to look away. You were not the one. Once she’d place the bottle in front of you, she scurried away. Wasting no time, you brought it to your head. A bottle for one meant you could take it to the head. Lost in the world of the champagne bliss, you savored the liquid as if it were your sustenance. The only way you could get through this flight was to be in a state of detachment.

 “Eh-em.”

Glancing up with the bottle still in your mouth, you nearly dropped it seeing Chris Evans standing before you. He slanted his mouth in an awkward smile as he pointed. His lips moved, but you didn’t hear one word. He was beautiful. Every time you scrolled through Instagram, there were countless pictures and fangirls fawning all over his looks. You made a note that he was appealing to the eyes but wasn’t all that. You stood wholly corrected. His lips stopped moving, and the look on his face went from awkwardness to confusion.

 “Hello?”

 “Huh, sorry, what?”

 He pointed again to the seat you were sitting in, then spoke.

 “I believe that is my seat.”

 “I feel like that is my line that I should be saying to you,” you blurted out without thinking.

 His eyebrow shot up, making you close your eyes in embarrassment. Oh god, you thought. He cleared his throat, making you look back at him. The slanted smile was now an amused smirk.

 “What I mean is um—this seat?”

 He lifted the ticket in his hands to show you. There it was in black and white the seat you were in was, in fact, his. You knew it wasn’t yours, but there was no way you could get through this flight being at the window. You’d surely lose your shit.

 “Okay, look, I’m not going to pretend like I didn’t know. I did. The thing is, I hate flying. I am terrible at it, and if I sit there, I’ll die.”

 “Die?”

 “Yes. It won’t be pretty. I’ll probably cry the entire flight. You don’t look like the kind of guy who can sit by while a woman cries. Do you think you can find it in your heart to--.”

 He held his hand up, stopping what you were going to say next. “It’s okay. I’ll take the window, and you and your champagne can remain where you are.”

 Relief filled you. Pushing the table to its upright position, you slightly stood so he could pass. As he did, you heard him mumble, “You’re lucky you’re as beautiful as you are.”

 It was low, and you decided that you must have been hearing things. There was no way he said that. As he squeezed by, the scent of Kenneth Cole Black caught your nostrils, making you bite your bottom lip. Another thing that caught your eye was the way his ass looked in his dark denim jeans. It looked so damn appetizing that you couldn’t tear your eyes away. He was fine. When you looked up at him, his eyes were on you. You’d be caught.

 Groaning, you looked away and sat back down to take another gulp of champagne. Beside you, he got comfortable while you scrolled through your phone. The same judgy flight attendant came over again.

 “Hi there.” From the sound of her voice, you could tell she was in flirtatious mode. When you looked at her, your suspicions were confirmed. She was twirling the fancily folded scarf around her neck with a broad smile on her face.

 “Hi.”

 “My name is Amber; I'll be your attendant for the flight.”

 She emphasized “your,” making you snort. Glancing to Chris, he gave you another raised brow. Turning back to your phone, you pretended to ignore the conversation, but you were not. You needed entertainment.

 “Can I get you anything? Water? Tea? Coffee? Champagne? Magazines? Candy? Me?”

 Your jaw dropped. She took it all the way there.

 “I mean meat, we have plenty of meat. Not to say you don’t have meat. I’m sure you have plenty of meat.”

 With that, her eyes dropped to his crotch, and that was when your snort escaped you. There was no playing it off, so you didn’t bother; you just kept your head down.

 “Thank you, Amber. I’ll take a beer, please.”

 “Any brand?”

 “It doesn’t matter, you pick.”

 She turned and walked off, giggling to herself. Shaking your head, you took another mouthful of bubbly and fought the urge to tease him about it. You didn’t know this man. The silence stretched for a few minutes until Amber returned with two bottles of beer. He thanked her and went back to the book he was reading.

 “All right, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for choosing this flight tonight. This is the nonstop to Boston, Massachusetts. The flight will be approximately one hour and twenty minutes. It is supposed to be a smooth trip, but we are flying into a little bit of rain in the Boston area, so we might experience a bit of turbulence. You’re in good hands. Enjoy your flight.”

 You looked around the cabin. No one seemed alarmed at the mention of turbulence.

 “Unfuckinbeliable. Everyone is so calm.”

 “Why wouldn’t they be?”

 Looking at him, you realized then you’d spoken loud enough for him to hear.

 “Uh…turbulence. Do you know what that means? It means bumpy and shit.”

 Chris pinched his lips and closed his book. “He also said we’re in good hands.”

 “That is what he has to say. What would you do if your captain said we’d have some turbulence but prayers up because shit will get bad?”

 This time he smirked. “You really don’t like flying, huh.”

 “Are you mocking me?”

 He held his hands up in defense. “Not at all. Have a drink,” he said, pointing to your champagne bottle.

 Not needing to be told twice, you took a hearty gulp.

 “You’ll be fine. If it gets bad, I’ll be right here. I’ll talk to you.”

 He looked kind and gentle. You didn’t doubt he was a stand-up guy. Nodding, you leaned back and took several deep breathes and prayed.

 As the plane pulled out and rolled down the tarmac, you squeezed the armrest so hard your hand hurt. When it accelerated, you took a deep breath and held it. Even when your lungs burned, and the possibility of blacking out became real, you didn’t release it. When you felt a hand on top of yours, you snapped your head to the left and saw his hand on yours. Your eyes met, and you saw he was signaling you to breathe.

 “Breathe.”

 Gasping for air, he kept his hand over yours.

 “It’s okay. Look into my eyes. Everything is fine. Slow in, slow out. do it with me.”

 Following his lead, you did as he did. Your stomach fell, and you knew the plane was pulling up.

 “Keep looking at me. Listen to my voice. You’re fine. Breathe.”

 Doing your best, you followed his instructions. Slowly you got lost in those hypnotizing blue eyes. They were so gorgeous you lost track of everything else. Soon his words faltered, and the two of you just sat there staring at each other. Soon you heard a bell that broke whatever trance the two of you were under.

 “There. You did it. I’m Chris.”

 His smile was soft, and it blew you away. Yep, you’d done it all right, you thought.

 “Y/N,” you whispered.

 The flight continued with you downing the bottle of champagne, flipping channels on the inflight tv, shaking like your life depended on it, and working. Neither of you spoke again though occasionally you felt his eyes on you. A little more than halfway into the flight the lights flickered until they completely shut off, only leaving on the overhead lights. That was when an alarm blared, and the plane began to shake.

 “Oh, fuck!”

 “Ladies and gentlemen, remember that turbulence I warned of. We’re going through it as we’re nearing Boston’s airport. Fasten your seatbelts and hang tight. We’ll be right out of this.”

 “Liar!”

 “Calm down; it’s okay. Just breathe,” Chris suggested.

 “Calm down? Breathe? What the fuck? How do I do that? We’re about to plummet to our deaths.”

 “We will not,” Amber shouted above you.

 “Shut up, Amber!”

 “I have to get out of here. We gotta go!”

 As you made a move to get up, Chris gripped the buckle of your seatbelt. The warmth of his hand was right at your crotch. Looking at him, you found him on his knees before you.

 “Calm down. We’re not plummeting. It’s just some shaking.”

 He grabbed the oxygen mask that had dropped down from overhead and held it to your mouth. “Deep breaths.”

 Pushing it off, you declined. “You breathe. Oh my god, we’re gonna die. I’m gonna die. I can’t believe this. I haven’t even make a name for myself yet. I’m so fucking close.”

 “You still have time,” Chris interjected.

 Ignoring him, you continued. “No, I won’t; we’re going to die. I’m going to die without crossing Fiji off my bucket list or a weekend in Palm Springs. I’m gonna die being the last single friend, the last single one in my family. I’m going to die a single spinster!”

 “Uh--.”

 “I’m gonna die without ever getting a tattoo. I’ve pushed it back so many times. I’m gonna die without ever having dressed up really fancy and having a pretty woman moment. I’m gonna die, and I haven’t had a dance moment like Dirty Dancing, or a scene like in Love and Basketball where some guy plays me for my heart. I’m gonna die without even have fallen in love.”

 “You’ve never been in love?”

 The judgment in his voice had you looking at him. “Don’t judge me!”

 “Sorry.”

 “I’m gonna die without going to the most expensive restaurant ordering all the expensive things then running out on the bill. Or going on a date with someone who’s picked my outfit and showers me with roses all night. Or drinking too much and getting on a bar to dance and sing in front of complete strangers.”

 So many things were running through your head. You’d truly lived a sheltered life, and it wasn’t on purpose.

 “Or know what it feels like to get a little blue box from Tiffany’s that has an amazing ring inside. Or have someone write me the most amazing love letter.”

 The plane roughly jerked, sending you lurching forward and Chris bracing you to push you back. Everyone then screamed loudly. Gasping, you bugged your eyes, panic, and terror filling you. “I’m gonna die never having had sex in a public place, or in a car, or on a beach. I’m gonna die with never having had an entire full day of just hardcore sex. Oh my god, I think I suck at head too. My ex told me that I couldn’t suck a dick to save my life and that I was stuck up for not swallowing. Oh god, I’ve never swallowed. It’s disgusting. I hear guys love that. You don’t do you?”

 His mouth opened, but before he spoke, you continued blurting more out. Oh god, I’m gonna be single forever. My ex was right; I’m unlovable and cold, and that I will never let anyone in because I’m too scared to feel real things that aren’t fairytale. Oh god, I’m gonna die alone. Fuck, I’m gonna die, and I’ve never had an orgasm!”

 As soon as the turbulence started, it stopped. Slowly the cabin went back to normal, but neither of you moved. Chris sat there, speechless. Slowly your senses came back to you and realization of what just happened and all you’d just blurted out.

 “Ladies and gentlemen, let me apologize. That was worse than we’d expected, but just as promised, we’ve made it through unscathed. We’ll begin our descent into Boston Logan International Airport. Please remain seated and fasten your seatbelts. Thank you for flying with us,” the captain’s voice rang out over the plane’s system.

 Unscathed? That must have been a fucking joke, you thought.

 Without one word, Chris got up and took his seat. He then leaned back, resting his head on the headrest. You could have died and for a slight moment wished the plane had gone down if it would have spared you this humiliation.

 Fifteen agonizing minutes later, with the plane parked and disembarking beginning, you leaped up, grabbed your carry one, and hightailed it out of there without a look back. You had one goal and one goal alone, to get as far from Chris Evans as possible.

 After claiming your bags, you found the driver and watched Boston scenery pass you by. Though nearly an hour had passed since you massive faux pas on the plane, you still couldn’t get it out of your head. That had to go down as the most embarrassing moment of your life. As you went over it time and time again, you felt worse and worse. You didn’t know what was worse, unleashing all of that personal information to a complete stranger, or unleashing all that personal information to Chris Evans. He probably thought you were some pathetic ice queen who was a lousy lay.

 “Oh god, I told him I don’t give good head,” you rushed out before you collapsed on the back of the seat, ready for the lord to take you now.

Thirty minutes later, the driver pulled into the lavish property that sprawled on and on. Though it was night, you could still see the rolling hills and open lawns. It was amazing, and you knew that if it was this amazing at night, it must have been breathtaking in the daytime. Once the car pulled around the drive, the staff came out to meet you collect your luggage. You thanked them, and the driver then made your way inside. The lobby was gorgeous and bathed in white marble.

 “Welcome. Checking in?”

 “Yes, Y/F/N & Y/L/N.”

 The well-dressed receptionist typed your name into the computer, and seconds later, he smiled.

 “Yes, Ms. Y/L/N, welcome. You’re here for the Gordon-Wessington wedding. We’re delighted to have you with us. I see the rest of your party have arrived, all but one. I’ve been instructed to show you right to your room. Please follow George, and he will take you right to it.”

 “Thank you.”

 Turning, you saw a smiling man with kind eyes and a head full of red hair. “Right this way, ma’am.”

 You followed him across the lobby to the elevator bank and stepped onto the first available. The ride up to the second floor was a quick one. As you walked down the long hall, you took in the artwork on the wall. They were all pleasing to the eye and gave you the feel of comfort but elegance. Whoever decorated the place did a good job.

 “Here you are, ma’am,” George announced before he unlocked the door with an actual key rather than a card.

 As you stepped in, your jaw dropped at the huge bay window before you. You stepped into the living area of the suite and smiled when you saw the little luxuries the staff had afforded you. There was a welcome basket on the table before you that was filled with fruit, cheese, meats, and alcohol bottles. You made a mental note to pop one once George left to sip as you changed. To the right was another basket of a variety of chocolates all from Godiva.

 “Is everything to your liking?”

 “Yes, thank you so much, George.”

 You dug into your purse and took out a twenty and handed it to him. George bowed his head, then made his exit. Finally, alone you looked around the room that would be your home away from home for the next ten days. Eve was the one who’d made all the arrangements for this weeklong getaway, all in prep for her wedding. Parker told her no expense was too much, and by looking around the suite, you could tell she’d run with it.

 When you made it into the bedroom and sat on the bed, the room phone rang.

 “Hello?”

 “Finally! My god, what the hell took you so long?”

 Rolling your eyes at Eve’s voice, you hooked the phone between your ear and shoulder and then began undressing.

 “The fucking plane almost fell out of the goddamn sky!”

 “What!”

 You explained to her precisely what you’d been through the last two or so hours. When you got to the part about spilling every single internal thought you’d had since you were eighteen to Chris Evans, you expected some sympathy or even heartfelt words. Instead, she busted out laughing so obnoxiously loud that you hung up on her ass. You did not need to be laughed at right now. You were already embarrassed enough.

 Jumping into the shower, you did your best to push it all out of your mind. It no longer mattered. You couldn’t do anything to change it. So, what if you’d told him all those things. He probably already forgot them and you. It didn’t matter. You continued to repeat it, hoping that the more you said it, the truer it would be.

 When you stepped out, you quickly applied your makeup and did your hair, opting for an updo that would complement the strapless dress you planned on wearing. When you heard your phone chime, you knew it was Eve. Rushing to it, you checked her messages.

 MSG Eve: Hurry up. We’ve made it to the dining room. Everyone is packing in.

MSG: I’m coming. Putting on my shoes now. Five minutes.

 You spent the next five minutes trying to choose the right shoes and clutch that would tie it all together. You had to walk a fine line of not upstaging the bride but still trying to appear like a snack. You felt anything but right now due to earlier events, but you were going to push through.

 When you finally made it out of your room and onto the elevator, it was five minutes past when you’d told Eve you’d be down. As you walked through the lobby and down the corridor to the designated dining room, you tried to go as quickly as possible. Thanks to the banner outside the dining room that read “Gordon-Wessington Wedding,” you knew you were in the right place. Stepping into the dining room, you gave the room a once over, trying to find Eve and your friends.

All the way across the room, you saw Capri and Angela. They waved you over with wide smiles on their faces. Maneuvering around the tables, chairs, and guests, you made your way to them. As you passed guests, you warmly smiled and welcomed them. It was part of your maid of honor duties, after all.

 “Aah, finally,” Angela said, throwing her arms around you almost at the same time Capri did.

 “I’m here.”

 “And you came dressed to kill!”

 Smiling, you spun around to give them the full view. The two of them whistled, feeding your ego.

 “Wow, looks like you are going to be turning heads tonight. All of Parker’s friends are here, including his elusive best man,” Capri mentioned.

 “Oh my god, Y/N, finally.”

 Spinning, you saw Eve dressed in her figure-hugging white dress that showed just what a catch she was. Parker was one lucky guy.

 “I’m sorry. I’m here, though.”

 “You should be sorry,” Eve said as she hugged you.

 “Hi, Parker.” You quickly kissed his cheek.

 “Okay, we’re all here except Parker’s best man,” Eve announced.

 “He’s cutting it close, don’t you think?”

 Everyone gave you a look that said shut up, no doubt because you’d just gotten there yourself. Raising your hands in defeat, you rolled your eyes.

 “I can’t believe he’s late. He’s never late,” Parker said.

 “I’m here. I’m here,” came a voice from all the way across the dining room.

 Feeling a hand on your back, you turned to look at Capri and Angela.

 “You still have your tag.” The two of them tugged at the tag at the back of your dress until finally, it was off. Feeling the front of your dress slip down, you turned to Capri and Angela and readjusted the dress's bust, hoping it would stay in place.

 “Finally, bro, this is pretty close.”

 “Sorry, interviews in New York went over, couldn’t be helped. I’d never miss your wedding, though.”

 “Now you can meet Eve’s other best friend, her maid of honor. Y/N, this is my best friend and best man, Chris.”

 Spinning with a smile on your face, it immediately dropped, seeing Chris Evans standing before you yet again.

 “Fuck my life.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#something blue fic #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #black fanfiction #slow burn fanfic

[rentsturner]

Bruised Knuckles | Mark Renton

Warnings - Reader has punched a wall, mentions/descriptions of injury, mentions of (non-specified) scars, alcohol and drugs, content that some people may find as very similar to self-harm, reader is paranoid and insecure. If any of this triggers you pls don’t continue to read. I’ve tried to note all the possible triggers.

wc - 1.7k

a/n - I’ve had a pretty shitty few days tbh and I still feel the lowest that I’ve felt in months. So I’ve channeled all of that into this fic. It’s quite angst heavy but there’s fluff at the end (what can I say, hurt and comfort is my shit). You may find the reader’s emotions a bit dramatic but I’ve basically self projected on to this and I’m not rlly arsed. Read the warnings and if you don’t like it, don’t read it. I don’t want any shit over this

It’s a cold day in Edinburgh, the skies grey and cloudy over the city.It’s been a long day without Mark. He’s been out since the early hours with Sickboy, no doubt dragged into another of Si’s infamous schemes, leaving you to spend the day alone in your tiny apartment. As much as you don’t want to admit it, the isolation has gotten to you - you slipped, more than once. Yeah, you regret it, but also there’s that nagging need for more at the back of your mind. You try to push it out, to forget about it, but the cold in the air doesn’t help to ease the ache in your knuckles.

The door to the apartment shuts with a click and a jangle of keys, footsteps heading towards the door. He’s back. A wave of relief, before you remember and your chest clenches in panic.

‘Alright, love?’ Mark flops onto the bed with a lazy grin, stretching his arms up over his head.

‘Yeah, fine, you?’ Keep it simple. You busy yourself with a stack of books by the bed, straightening the pile of novels so it’s not about to topple over. Keep the hand busy.

‘Yeah, alright. Si led us on a fucking wild goose chase but we got there in the end, y’know?’

You didn’t know, but you nodded along anyway and let him recount the story. You’re admiring the way his lashes flutter against his pale skin and how his arms flex as his hands come to rest behind his head, when you realise that Mark’s stopped talking. And you’ve stopped moving.

‘Your knuckle...” his eyes dart down to the hand you’ve been trying to hide ever since he walked through the door. Busted.

‘Oh.’ You move to get up, anything to get his eyes away from your swollen knuckles, red lines criss crossing over the flowering purple bruises where your hand collided with a solid wall. Multiple times. The open cuts are still weeping, even though it had happened hours ago.

‘It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.’ You offer a small smile, but it doesn’t fool Mark.

‘No.’ He moves as you do, standing in front of the bedroom door to block your escape. His arms are crossed over his chest, stance serious , but the worry in his blue eyes betrays him. ‘Love. Let me see it.’

He holds out his hand, pale fingers reaching out to you, his skin just as scarred as yours - different actions, same result. He knows how to help. The hand reaching,an offer of support, reassurance, love, all those things that you crave but can never admit. Emotions aren’t your forté - never have been.But Mark knows that. There’s no secrets between you. You almost laugh out loud at the thought. No secrets, but you won’t even show Mark your hand.

Mark would do anything for you, you know that - he tells you all the time. Days spent in bed chatting shit to each other.

‘I’d run to John O'Groats and back for you, y’know?’

‘Would you now, Mark? What about down to Land’s End?’

‘In a heartbeat.’

Bright eyes, wide smile. Your Mark. He’s joking, of course, but his tone is so serious, his answer without a second of hesitation. Your heart skips a beat.

So now, you give him your hand (and your heart).

He takes it tentatively, one cold hand underneath, the other poking at your raw knuckles gently. When one of his prods reaches a tender spot, you wince and he moves his finger away, meeting your gaze in apology.

‘You punch something?’ His brow creases, a hand running instinctively over his closely cropped hair, before scratching at the back of his neck. He refuses to grow it out, no matter how much you try to persuade him, still getting his razor out every other month like clockwork.

‘It’s easier this way.’ He insists. Less hassle in the morning is what he means.

The sting in your hand brings you back to the present.

‘No.’ You look away from Mark’s gaze, knowing that in doing so you’ll give yourself away, but not having the energy or willpower to stop yourself. Much like the ‘incident’ earlier in the day.

‘I’m going to take that as a yes.’ Mark huffs, not in anger, but in frustration - frustration that he wasn’t there to help, to calm you down. ‘Let me clean it up, give me a sec.’

His hand rubs at his eyes, scrunched shut for a moment. There’s dark bags marring his pale skin there - he’s tired too. He goes to move to the bathroom, but you grab his arm with your good hand, gripping it as tight as you can. Don’t leave.

‘No, Mark, it’s alright, I’ll sort it.’

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t look happy. Not that you’d expect him to, but...he’s frustrated with you, you can tell.

‘You can’t clean yourself up with one hand. Just wait here, alright?’

The inkling is worming its way in now, from your subconscious to your conscious, until its at the forefront of your mind. He’s angry, he’s disgusted, he’s going to leave. He’s not going to the bathroom, he’s going to the front door so he can get out of here. You’re sure of it.

‘I’m sorry.’ The whisper escapes you and you have to bite the inside of your cheek so no tears will spill. The words are almost silent, your hand dropping Mark’s in defeat.

But Mark turns his head at your weak apology, stopping in his tracks.

‘What? Why -‘

With a jolt, he notices the way you’ve changed - unable to look at him, arms beginning to wrap around yourself, one fist clenched. He knows what’s happening.

‘No, no, love, I’m not angry.’

He’s back at your side in a heartbeat, bringing his hand up to your chest, thumb carefully wiping away the rogue tear that’s tracking a salty path over your cheekbone.

‘I love you. I just want the best for you, alright? I don’t like seeing you hurt, just like I’d fucking hope you wouldn’t like seeing me hurt.’

His face breaks into a sad smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you realise he’s right - of course he is. You don’t want to see him hurt, he’s been through enough, but that’s what you’re doing. He’s hurting just from seeing your hand, it’s obvious from the crease in his brow, the blue of his eyes dulled and flat. Mark’s got too much to deal with already, you’re just one extra problem to add to the mix. You don’t want to be his problem.

And suddenly it’s all coming up to the surface, ready to combust, explode, these emotions that you never really have a grip on. You bottle them up and push them down, so far down that the only way they can escape is through a rush of anger, jagged and uncontrollable.

But instead of that, you bury your face into Mark’s neck and let it out as slowly as you can.

‘I’m sorry, I was angry, I just wanted to feel something. Some pain. I don’t want to make you feel like this. I’m sorry.’

You’re clutching onto the worn fabric of Mark’s shirt like your life depends on it. You can’t possibly let go of him, the only one you have left.

Mark is steady, your rock in a storm of emotions. He listens, stroking your hair, pale fingers threading through the strands to knead at your scalp, knowing it tends to calm you down.

‘You’re alright, I promise. I promise you, love. I know you get angry. I know you. And I know what it’s like to want to feel something, trust me. We can get through it together, or we can be a mess together. I don’t care, as long as we’re together, honest. I’m not going anywhere.’

And the sincerity in his eyes, those familiar bright blue eyes, it convinces you. He means it.

You stay like this for a few minutes, your good hand clinging onto Mark’s ratty jumper, the other grasped tightly (but not too tightly) in Mark’ grip. His right arm is around your waist, pulling you closer, as if in doing so he can pour all of his reassurance, all of his love, directly to your heart. He knows it’s not possible. But he tries anyway. Because he’ll do anything for you. Your Mark.

Mark helps you clean your hand later, shushing you everything you wince (though that isn’t often). His hands are steady and practiced as he dabs at the cuts with alcohol, wrapping the gauze over your knuckles and securing it with some tape, humming to himself as he works, the steady tune in time with his deft movement. He doesn’t look up until the job is done - and a good job it is too. He knows what he’s doing, probably after years of wrapping Sickboy’s hands up in the same way - late nights out in the rough streets of Leith, fuelled by alcohol and amphetamines (and worse)

Mark kisses the bandages gently when he’s done - a silent ‘I love you. I care for you and I love you.’

And you smile, a smile that fills your whole body with warmth, a smile that drowns out the demons, if only for a little while. Because how can you not, when you have Mark. He tries his best and so do you - neither of you can ask anymore. You’ll be a mess together.

‘Let’s order Chinese and watch Dr No, eh?’

Or you’ll get through this together

*~*~*~*

@callmearwen @ohhellokenobi @darthserling @stardancerluv @goldenkenobi @lunarthoughts @saintlaurentkenobi @million-dollar-legs @i-am-i-am-obiwankenobi @letmybabysleep @haydens-moles @alideetoo @all-hallows-evie @junkieboyfriend @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @star-whores-a-new-hoe @arianalilyblack @sigynragnarsdottir @funkytxwn @drinksomecoco @darlingkenobi

#mark renton imagine #mark renton x reader #mark renton #mark renton headcanons #trainspotting #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x reader #fic recs #my writing #scotland #mark renton blurb #mark renton one shot #alex law

[ateezmakemeweep]

you’re the one that i want (part 24)

word count: 5k

fluff

(part 23) (series masterlist)

it was crazy how long days used to feel during this time just last year, after winer break started and the draining third and forth marking periods of school started.

usually, you’d be crumbling. 

working your hardest to maintain your grades while also dealing with a toxic home environment. you loved school because it served as a safe haven away from that but it also drained and exhausted every bit of you.

but four months of your life now passed by unbelievably fast and you were handling everything well, good people around you that made schoolwork just a little more tolerable. 

when you were struggling with math, mingi would help you during lunch. if you needed someone to test you with flashcards, yeosang would reward every correct answer with a piece of food. when a particular teacher gave you shit for anything, wooyoung was quick to cause some sort of chaos even if it meant getting detention. 

and when everything just got too overwhelming and you never wanted to look at another book again, seonghwa was quick to clear your desk and drag you to bed. lay you down and hold himself above you until you were smiling and giggling as he pecked kisses down your neck.

you think it was solely because of him and the others and your aunt that june came so fast, only two weeks left of school and everyone buzzing with excitement; even with the whines and arguing coming from your lunch table.

“you’re really gonna make us stay in a hotel for the whole summer?” wooyoung asked, looking at seonghwa with distrust and hurt in his eye. “i thought we had fun at your house that time.”

because with only two weeks left of school meant only two weeks left of you and seonghwa commuting back and forth.

of seeing wooyoung, san, mingi and yeosang every day who have really grown to love this dynamic; so much so, they’ve been all but begging to spend the whole summer there with you two.

but to no one’s surprise, seonghwa wasn’t for the idea.

“no, you guys had fun. i was one second away from flinging myself off a fucking cliff.”

“that’s not fair,” san whines. 

but the dirty blonde only quirks an eyebrow and asks if it was fair that he had to sleep on the floor on his own bedroom every night. or be rudely woken up and forced to make breakfast. or share his girlfriend and-

“no hotel, you guys could always stay with me,” you interrupt sweetly, a small smile on your face that only widens when you feel seonghwa glaring at you. your head cranes over to look him up and down, a smirk crossing your face as you shrug your shoulders carelessly. 

“what?” 

“yeah, what?” wooyoung asks, mimicking your higher voice causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

“really? what?” seonghwa asks, annoyance and exasperation in his tone. “i don’t want you burning my girlfriend’s house down, that’s what.” 

“girlfriend, this. girlfriend, that. we all know you have a girlfriend, okay.”

“what? girlfriend? i don’t have a girlfriend.” 

everyone’s heads snap to the side when a new voice stammers those words out, yeosang finally arriving and standing there looking incredibly panicked and guilty.

it makes you in particular cock an eyebrow, the other boy’s “where the hell did you come from” and “we know you loser,” quickly turning back into whines and protests to seonghwa. 

but for the the rest of lunch, you could only focus on how...odd yeosang is acting.

peeking at you every now and then before smiling awkwardly, checking his phone and trying to hide his smile, needing mingi or san to repeat themselves several times because he just seems so dazed and out of it.

when lunch ends, seonghwa is quick to stand up and grab your hand as per your usual walk to class together. but you take your hand from his hold and place it on his arm, standing up on your tippy toe to peck his cheek.

“can you go without me?” you ask softly, using a voice you know will always get him. “i wanna talk to yeosang for a second.” 

“oh?” he mumbles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear casually. “what about?”

“i don’t know, he was acting strange,” you say quietly, turning to see him gathering his stuff and checking his phone once more. “i wanna make sure he’s okay.”

the dirty blonde looks to yeosang and hums quietly, looking over his friend who meets his gaze.

“what?” 

“why are you being a weird fuck?”

“seonghwa!” you squeal, smacking his chest before quickly ushering him away.

he lets out a loud chuckle before squeezing your hand once more, telling you he’ll meet you at the end of the period and meeting yeosang’s middle finger with one of his own. 

“your boyfriend’s such a dick.”

a small smirk crosses your face as you shrug, looking the boy over with a suspicious look in your eye. a look that he catches and turns an endearing but humorous shade of red because of.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“because i think you got yourself a girlfriend,” you say, poking his arm as you two walk through the crowded, bustling hallways. he lets out a scoff before bumping into you, remembering to be gentle;

because the last time he did that, you smacked into a wall and he paid for it dearly - curtsey of seonghwa’s fist in his stomach.

“what makes you say that?” 

“just a vibe,” you say, the sweet smile on your face morphing into a teasing one when he raises an eyebrow. “and you’re little ‘who me? i don’t have a girlfriend!’ was the icing on the cake, really.”

he stares blankly at you causing you to giggle, shrugging your shoulders as you promise you won’t tell anyone if that’s the case.

and it takes a little bit of persuading, just a pout on your lips before you remind him how mean he was to you when you first met for good measure.

“that’s not fair,” he sighs out, a smirk on your face as you shrug your shoulders. 

and just as you knew you would, you find out he’s been seeing a girl for a few months. that they’re not official or serious, only having been on a few dates but enough time for him to really like her. 

“she kind of scared the shit out of me at first,” he laughs out and you have to suppress the squeal threatening to leave your lips at the sappy look on his face. “she still kinda does but she’s also really fucking cool. i don’t know, i just like her.”

and once he sees the bright smile on your face, he knows he made a grave mistake. 

“but don’t tell those shitheads yet, i wanna ask her out first.”

“oh? when you are going to? today? oh, my gosh and how?” you squeal excitedly, the initial budding of a romance something that always makes your heart soar. but it proves to only make yeosang roll his eyes, the sound of the bell blaring through the hall saving him.

“perfect timing,” he quips, your arm shooting out to push at him before he rushes down the hallway to his class.

“perfect timing.”

san narrows his eyes at you a few hours later at the cafe, a smirk crossing your face when you see wooyoung wave to you from the window; it’s almost the 6th shift in a row the boy has made him late for but he looks all too pleased with himself.

“he has no shame,” you hum lowly, giggling softly when you see a blush cross san’s face. “and neither do you, apparently.”

“stop,” he whines, hitting you lightly in the arm. “you have to be nice, we only have a few weeks left together here.”

because as much as you love san and this cafe, commuting during the summer would’ve been an absolute nightmare. and his parents had been the ones to suggest it, telling you they would never in a million years fire you but wanted you to enjoy your summer.

“and you can’t do that if you’re trapped in a car ten hours a week,” they said, before taking notes from their son and promptly pushing free cookies and cakes down your throat.

but you’re really gonna miss this place. even if you’re only away from it for a few months, it acted as a safe haven when you really needed one. was one of the only places where you’d have a smile on your face and not feel like your life was falling apart at the seams.

“what do you mean? you guys are staying with me,” you say, looking at him like a confused puppy in a way that makes him smile. 

“seonghwa’s not gonna allow that.”

“well luckily, it’s not up to seonghwa. it’s up to me and my aunt.”

san bites the inside of his cheek to hold back his smirk, looking at you with a quirked up eyebrow causing you to mirror his expression.

“what?” 

“just keep that energy when he’s around too,” the boy teases before his eyes dramatically bat and his face becomes one of a lovesick teen. “but seonghwa, pleaseee,” he whines, doing a lousy impression of your voice that makes you smack his shoulder.

but your fight and quarreling is quickly interrupted by the uncharacteristically abrupt entrance of bo-ra, the once shy girl coming out of her shell a little bit more everyday. 

you were happy you were able to keep your friendship with them despite the fact they were at different school, always having at least two customers a day who you could guarantee would make you and san smile. 

“you guys will never believe this.”

and right when bo-ra tells you jojo has been seeing a boy for a few months now, you almost don’t believe it. not only because of the crazy coincidence that yeosang, too, has been seeing a girl for the past few months but because it might be jojo. 

it almost seemed as if the girl had sworn off any and all high school boys because they are “mean, idiotic assholes who think with the wrong, less impressive head.” 

and yeosang being the one to change that perspective? you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all. 

how yeosang, at one point, was the exact description of that. how, really, all of them were like that except the sweet blonde throwing his head back in laughter at this information.

“no way, who is he? and what’s wrong with him?”

you both let out a snort and hit the boy playfully, bo-ra putting a finger to her lips as she looks at san chastisingly. 

“stop it, they’re coming any second now! i ran ahead because i could not stand to watch them awkwardly bump arms and blush any longer. but act natural. pretend i didn’t tell you. in fact, maybe you guys should act like you don’t even-”

but the second the door rings open, san is up and over to them in a second. he’s so hot in pursuit he doesn’t even realize it’s the familiar brown-haired boy, teasing eyes on jojo as he greets them with a tray of cookies.

“i gotta give it to jojo, i never thought  anyone would be able to-”

and it’s at hearing the lowly mumbled “shit,” under his breath that makes san stop talking, snapping his head over to see no other than yeosang looking at him with a half annoyed, half guilty expression.

“yeosang?” 

the last two weeks of school for you, and mostly everyone else, were great. the work was light, the teachers were lenient and every single person was in good spirits and anticipating the fun and relaxation that came with summer. 

the last two weeks of school for yeosang, however, were...disastrous. because not only was everyone giving him shit for having a girlfriend, they were chastising him for keeping it a secret.

“it wasn’t a fucking secret! i just hadn’t asked her officially yet and i wanted to wait until-”

“we went through this shit before and we’re not about to do it again,” mingi says, whacking the top of the brunet’s head before looking at you and seonghwa. “no offense guys.”

“none taken,” you giggle out as you shake your head, seonghwa rolling his eyes before pulling you into him further. you smile softly against him and meet his gaze, smirking at the look on his face and leaning up to peck his cheek.

it’s a look that only gets more annoyed and tense as the conversation goes into summer, his arm still tightly around you serving as the only thing to keep him grounded and sane. 

the same way you’re the only thing keeping him sane now, you in the front seat of his car while wooyoung, mingi, san and yeosang all flail around and hit each other in the back. the trunk is full of suitcases and bags filled enough for two months because, of course, he had lost that battle. 

“i’ll definitely be a better surfer, are you fuckin’ nuts?” 

“no fucking way, you’re too lanky.”

“well you’re too short! did you stop growing at age eight?”

seonghwa looks over at you, a pained expression on his face at the juvenile conversation in the back and you can only tighten your hold on your intertwined hands.

look down and smile at not only the banter of the boys and your boyfriend’s utter annoyance but the way his hand holds yours so securely.

how they fit together perfectly as you trace your other fingers over the black rings and veins of his hand. 

“it’s gonna be fine,” you tell seonghwa softly, surprised he can even hear you despite the chaos in the back. “they could always stay with me if you need a break.”

but he only looks over at you and shakes his head, bringing your hand to his lips before he tightens his hold on you. 

“absolutely not, i could never put you through that.”

you let out a snort before wooyoung’s head is directly between you both, his arms on the console and neck snapping back and forth as he begs seonghwa for surfing lessons to prove mingi wrong.

and much to the taller boy’s dismay, wooyoung actually did prove to be the better surfer. 

because after only two days of you guys going down to the ocean, seonghwa’s reluctant help in teaching him, though nowhere near as thorough as the lessons he provided last year, proved that the brunet was just somehow naturally gifted at it.

“how does it feel to fucking suck?” wooyoung laughs at mingi, watching the boy roll in clumsily after being knocked by waves. his wet hair’s a mess of tangles and seaweed and yunho can only watch from the beach with a frown on his face.

“he’s trying though,” the tall boy whines to you, a giggle leaving your mouth as you shake your head. 

“i know, he really is,” you say, the two of you laughing again as mingi jumps up and tries to dunk wooyoung under water. you two watch as the shorter boy gets away, much to mingi’s annoyance, and he looks at you two with a dejected look.

“come here,” yunho yells down to mingi, his large hand flagging the boy over. but he only lets shake his head and tells him to go there, that he needs his help now and is gonna cry if he doesn’t.

and what mingi wants from the boy, he gets almost immediately. because you don’t know if you’ve ever seen yunho move so fast, rolling your eyes at how easy he gives in before you lay back down and enjoy the warm sun on your skin - but only for a few moments.

because then you feel a familiar pair of arms around you, your eyes shooting open just in time to see you’re being thrown over seonghwa’s shoulder as he’s heads to the ocean. you squeal and hit his back and tell him he better not throw you in but you don’t even have to see him to know there’s a smirk on his face.

he goes in until it’s waist deep before promptly throwing you down, the freezing june water making you squeal out before popping up with a gasp.

“seonghwa!”

“i’m sorry, baby, but i had to,” he whines, circling his arms around your waist. you narrow your eyes but welcome his touch anyway, even jump up and wrap your legs around his hips in a move you’re all too familiar with in this ocean.

“you really didn’t,” you whine softly but he can only kiss your salty lips and you smile against them, meeting the chaste, sweet kiss back immediately. your arms wrap around his neck when his tongue slips in just a little teasingly, pushing yourself further into him and smiling when he pulls back.

“it’s broad daylight,” his deep voice chokes out warningly, your one hand snaking down to trace the lines of his stomach teasingly.

“you started it,” you quip back playfully, trying so desperately to remember there are far too many people around to repeat what happened several times right in this ocean.

but how could you forget? especially with the scoffs and splashing coming from just a few feet away from you.

“hey sickos, i’m pretty sure you can get arrested for that,” yeosang yelps, seonghwa pulling away to sneer at him while you hide your face in embarrassment because he’s probably right. 

you can feel the dirty blonde smile against your head as you hide in his neck, seonghwa’s fingers threading through your hair before pulling your face back to look at him.

he can’t help but snort when he sees the pink flush on your cheeks, knowing it’s not from the sun because he made sure to put sunscreen on you before coming down to the beach today.

“did you put on sunscreen?”

your face drops and the guilty look in your eyes causes him to groan. he drops his board and takes the black bag from his back, zipping it open and pulling out a bottle of sunscreen.

“here.”

and you already know better than to refuse, taking it with a wince and quiet “thank you.”

he watches you rub it over your arms and shoulders, feeling your cheeks warm as his eyes stay on you. “did you put some on?” you ask, in an effort to distract yourself from his piercing gaze.

but he only nods his head, picking his board up and dusting off some sand and dirt as his eyes remain on you. you squirt some more on your hand before giving it to him with a grateful smile, rubbing it in and then wiping the excess on your face.

“thank you,” you tell him. “i always forget to put it on which would explain why i’m a little-”

“missed some,” he hums lowly, his hand slowly reaching out so his thumb can rub in the lotion on your cheek.

he does everything so smoothly and nonchalantly while you inhale sharply, your lips parting and watching him with wide eyes. it was the first indication that his touch was gonna be gentle this week, his hands softer than you expected. his eyes meet yours when he pulls his hand back, raising his eyebrow when he sees your face.

“you good?”

yeah, i’m good, you think, i just have a handsome boy touching my face about to put me in cardiac arrest.

he plays the memory over in his head and can’t help but smile, your eyes catching his dazed look along with the softer look in his eye. 

“what?” you squeak, cocking your head to the side in confusion.

“nothing,” he says, shrugging his shoulders before tightening his hold on you. “i just love you.”

because he can’t help but think about those times last year, when he was bitter and jaded and so closed off to feeling anything positive. it’d all been a mask, of course, but he’d worn it for so long he didn’t know if he’d ever learn how to be without it.

but that was until he saw you, started everything with you right here in the form of soft, guiding touches that lingered just a little too long and shy looks back and forth that should’ve made him realize this was gonna be the result. 

him so easily telling you he loves you, with any and everyone around to hear him say it so surely. biting back a smile and feeling his heart lurch in his chest when your face softens and mouth drops open.

because even though you know he loves you, know that he says it several times a day and means it every time, it’s these random little moments that make your heart flutter the most.

when he’s saying it for no other reason than that he wants you to hear it, that he becomes fully consumed by the feeling just from watching you smile or feeling you against him.

but you still can’t help but blush as you softly tell him you love him too, his skin littered with water droplets and the sun shining behind him so devastatingly familiar and handsome. 

your arms tightly wound around his neck before he twirls you around and nearly sends you flying under water, your giggle and seonghwa’s deep chuckle echoing through the salty air. 

but it’s quickly cut off by another voice, one much harsher and not so giddy.

“jesus christ,” yeosang grumbles, you and seonghwa snapping your heads over to see him looking at you both. “please don’t tell me i’m gonna look this pathetic.”

“fuck off,” seonghwa snaps. but you can only smack him lightly and look at yeosang with a raised eyebrow, because you’ve actually seen him and jojo together and can confirm they’re just as pathetic as you two.

“of course you do,” you say, your eyes moving back to shore as a small, teasing smile crosses your face. “because look, jojo just got here.”

and the way yeosang’s face brightens and his head snaps to the side is the first indication you’re absolutely correct. his eyes roaming the beach and softly spoken “where is she?” making you feel just a little bit bad for lying. 

the girls did, however, make it just a few days later for a weekend trip. yeosang greeted jojo just as pathetically as he feared to look, his arms wrapping around her body and pressing a kiss to her head like they hadn’t seen each other in months. 

mumbled that he missed her and how pretty she looked and you had to turn your face into seonghwa’s chest so you didn’t squeal. 

it was nice to see them both so vulnerable. when you first met them, they were harsher and colder, with walls not so easy to break down that always made them sneer in the face of love. made them question couples that made it seem like the end of the world when they were apart.

but now, they’re going through that dilemma firsthand with all the other couples, when talk of a girl sleepover and boy sleepover happen, san being looped into the former purely due to bo-ra’s request.

“what, no,” wooyoung whined, arm reaching out to pull the blonde back by the shirt. “he has to be with us. he’s technically a boy.”

“technically?” san asks, snapping his head to the side to look the pouting boy.

"but there’s already too many of you, yunho’s parents will go crazy,” you say, walking over and smacking wooyoung’s hand off the blonde. “and you get to see him all the time. bo-ra and jojo are only here for the weekend.”

“b-but,”

“i’ll be back to you in the morning, drama queen, since i’m only technically a boy,” san says, secretly far too excited with a night away from them; he loves his friends and woo but sometimes they get even a little too crazy for him, having grown used to spending all his time with you. 

and of course, you don’t miss your own boyfriend’s reluctance to let you go but can only assure him with a sweet smile and teasing shake of the head before you all run inside and lock the doors.

it takes your aunt all of two seconds to fall in love with your new friends, a spread of dessert and soda in wine glasses (except for her own) keeping you occupied well into the night.

you all laugh until tears are in your eyes and your sides hurt, the boys just a house away hearing the ruckus through the open windows.

“do you think...they’re talking about us?” wooyoung asks seonghwa and yeosang, the dirty blonde rolling his eyes as yeosang’s mouth drops open.

“oh, my god do they do that?” the brunet asks, shock and horror in his voice as both boys turn to look at seonghwa.

the dirty blonde is tapping on his phone before he feels eyes on him, looking over to see his two friends staring at him wildly.

“what is wrong with you guys?”

“let’s sneak over. i can’t take not knowing what they’re laughing about.” 

“what if they’re talking about our...”

another loud chorus of giggles and cackles rings through the window and it causes yeosang and wooyoung to shoot away from the window, paranoia quickly creeping up on them. 

“shit! they’re they go again. what the hell could be so damn funny?”

“they must be getting details from jojo now,” seonghwa says casually, wooyoung snorting as yeosang’s head snaps to him in outrage.

and while you guys might’ve been talking about them a little, you’d never let them know that. you’d never let them know you actually shared about how sweet and thoughtful they could all be, even given their flaws. 

but somewhere between talking and laughing and then going out in the pool, stormy clouds rolled in and before you knew it, rain and thunder was pelting against your window. 

blankets and pillows were sprawled out across your aunt’s couch as you all laid there cuddled into one another, san’s head on your foot while your head rested on jojo’s shoulder.

it took one movie to knock them out and then another for last girl, now just you with the darkness and roaring weather outside quickly making you miss the boy next door.

you’d gotten used to having him every night; more often than not, you slept together and woke to one another and now you’re feeling just a little hypocritical for tearing wooyoung and san away from each other so easily.

because you’re quick to sneak away from your three sleeping friends, cover them with blankets and turn of the tv, before sneaking into your room.

one particularly loud crack of thunder causes you to jump, cursing yourself when you check the pockets of your pajamas and realize you forgot your phone downstairs. 

“shit,” you mutter under your breath, about to turn around and make your way back down when you hear a knocking on your balcony door. 

and then suddenly, your life feels very much so like a horror movie - no means to communicate with anyone, the howling wind and darkness outside, a mysterious knocking at a door that the character is stupidly going to investigate.

but maybe it’s because, somehow, you knew your soaking wet boyfriend was gonna be standing on the other side. 

“i texted you,” he says simply, like he’s not standing out in the pouring rain or giving you a mini heart attack.

“you could’ve rang the doorbell!” you whisper-yell, pulling him inside before telling him to stay there. you run frantically around your room for a towel and an extra set of his clothes you ‘borrowed’ before throwing them at him.

“why did you do that, you’re gonna get sick!”

and despite your rush of adrenaline to save him, another crack of thunder causes you to jump and he can’t help the smirk that crosses his face. 

“you’re really asking me that?” 

“i told you i’m not scared of thunder,” you say surely, taking his wet clothes and hanging them in the bathroom before seeing he made himself quite comfortable in your bed. 

it’s upon hearing another boom outside, shaking the house and causing a squeal to leave your mouth, that you quickly scurry in next to him. cuddling yourself into him and resting your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around you tightly. 

he smiles against your head and doesn’t comment on the pounding of your heart against him, how any time a loud crack of thunder comes, you cling onto him just a little tighter the way you always do during a storm. 

“i’m not scared,” you insist, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

“i know, baby, i just missed you,” he mumbles against your head, bringing your face to his so he can place a kiss on your lips. he tightens his hold on your hair when you deepen it, reach up and part of your mouths before moving up to straddle his hips. 

and despite the growing hardness you feel underneath you the more you kiss, he never tries to take it further. you just kiss and giggle and smile against the others mouth until you rest your head back on his chest, the feeling of his hand rubbing your back and softly spoken “i’m here, baby,” lulling to the sleep despite the storm outside. 

even though you’ll both be awakening to a different type of storm tomorrow, when wooyoung and yeosang discover seonghwa had snuck out and made his way to the house next door. 

(part 25)

tag list: @chogiout ; @psshwa ; @yeocult ; @seongghwaa ; @cherryeonii ; @chaoticbanqtan ; @8teenee ; @nczenniez ; @atinyarmyx1 ; @mingtopiaa ; @chubsluda ; @joongiebug ; @mochibabycakes​ ; @jisungity​ ; @skz-on-my-mind​ ; @nlost21​ ; @myonlyaurora​ ; @closer-stars​ ; @kuaenam3g​ ; @byungaji​ ; @floweryjh​ ; @joeycheungg​ ; @lostscenarios​ ; @atinyxtopia​ ; @sanisms​ ; @kpopnightingale​ ; @simpforhyunjin​ ; @89staytinyzen21​ ; @lokicaramel​ ; @hwaxbum​ ; @sakura-uji​ ; @songsoomin​ ; @toffee-hwa​ ; @deobitiful​ ; @hyunjeansuniverse​ ; @chrryhwa​ ; @i-know-you-know-lee-know​ ; @tiny-whatsername​ ; @fairieofeternity​ ; @yixing-jaehyun​ ; @sleepyseonghwa​ ; @revehosh​ ; @atletino​ ; @yeol-wish​ ; 

#these last 2 are just fluffy nonsense tbh <3 #i have a migraine so this was bare minimum #srry :/ #seonghwa #seonghwa fluff #ateez #ateez fluff #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa imagines #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios

[anyoneseenadam]

Home: Chapter Seven

azriel x reader (acotar)

summary: (y/n) is a daughter of Persephone, still recovering from the trauma of her fall into Tartarus and doesn’t have time for a stupid, handsome, annoying, stunning, injured man. But now they’re stuck together in the middle of nowhere and there only chance of getting home is if she can heal him, and fast.

warnings: big spoilers for mark of Athena and house of Hades, also for the acotar series, eventual smut, blood, PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries and torture, enemies to lovers so az is a bit of a dick to start, swearing, 

word count: 3.9k

a/n: I’m entirely writing this to distract myself from the real world but honesty I’m having a great time, I think there will be one more chapter after this one and maybe an epilogue but asides from that, also feel free to message or ask if you want to be tagged :)) anyway enjoy and pls comment and shiz :)

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Azriel had once joked that you were like an actual flower, needing water and sunlight to use your powers. At the time you had laughed but now as you stood in front of the mirror, wiping the tears from under your eyes, and preparing to walk into the world of all things dead, you understood. The dress you wore was one of the few fancy ones you reserved for the dinners you were often dragged to before your fall. It was lavender, with tulle cascading down your legs from the waist, paired with a tight corset top and tulle off-the-shoulder sleeves. As you sat with a ‘humph’ and started applying your makeup, your stepbrother walked in.

“Well you look cheery,” Nico said, sitting on your bed.

“I look like an evil power puff girl,”

“You look like you are a princess, which you are so my dad is going to be pleased.”

“I really don’t care what he thinks,” you snapped, and Nico help up his hands. He was wearing all black as usual, simple dress pants and a loose black shirt tucked in, his belt matched his rings, and his dark hair and even darker eye bags made him look every bit the Underworld prince. “Sorry, I’m not mad at you,” you said turning back around to carry on with your makeup.

“I know, it’s stressful for you,” he moved to sit next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and you applied eyeliner.

“I don’t wanna get sick again, I have things to do. Plus I’ve got to convince your dad to let me ask for this favour. I just feel like it’s all going to go to shit.”

“I get it, you’ll be fine though. Also I’m pretty sure your mum is going to do anything for you if it means you’ll speak to her again, so she’ll be on your side at least. That’s three vs one.” He nudged you as you put down the eyeliner.

“That’s true.” You bit the inside of your lip and Nico, sensing your worry, changed topic.

“Tell me about Azriel,” He said, and you caught his eye in the mirror.

“Huh?”

“Well I gotta make sure that when you become his problem it will be permanent, I don’t want you coming back,” he joked.

“Fuck you,” you laughed shoving his shoulder and he giggled, rolling onto his back.

“I don’t want to do thisssss,” Nico said in a sing-song voice lying flat on the floor.

“Me neither but I’m not going in alone bitch,” you laughed, starting to feel slightly better. It was moments like this that made you regret pushing your friends away, the thought of seeing them was always scary but when you were with your brother again you remembered why you loved them so much. You assessed your outfit in the mirror and sighed.

“What?” Nico asked, sitting back up.

“This would look really nice with a dark red lip,” you said, biting your lip.

“Do you have one?” he asked, and you nodded. He was quiet for a second before reaching out and ruffling through your makeup, finding your favourite red lipstick. “Do you wanna try?”

“Yeah, but if I cry it’ll mess up my eyeliner.” You said with a shaky laugh. He laughed quietly handing you the lipstick and you looked at him in the mirror, taking in a shuddering breath. You were stronger than this and you could handle it. You closed your eyes for a minute, counting your breaths, before opening the lipstick.

Once it was applied you lifted your chin, staring down the girl in the mirror. Nico grabbed your hand softly and you tore your eyes away, standing and pulling on your shoes.

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

--

Azriel was in a shit mood. He was 90% sure that you had cast some sort of spell on him when he was with you, something that made him happy and relaxed, because now that you weren’t here he pretty much wanted to throttle everyone.

Amren had been helping him look for a way to get back to you. The first thing they had tried was winnowing, he pictured your face; your smile, the way your hands felt in his, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t reach you. So they had been scanning books since then, reading up on every theory and myth. Nesta had brought him to speak to Gwyn who had told him about the theory that there could be up to at least 20 other worlds. Amren had also made him talk through every detail about this world he could remember, writing diligent notes as Cassian gave him weird looks when he spoke about Bucky Barnes.

“He’s a character, it’s a simple concept.”

“Yeah but how do you get an emotional connection to a character?”

“Shut up both of you.”

The pain in his chest was only growing as well, and he came to the daunting realisation that if he failed this; if he couldn’t get back to you, or get you back to him, he would probably have to deal with it for the rest of his long, long life.

He felt bad for taking his frustrations out on his family who were just worried about him, but he had never felt this way before. All he could think of was the way your eyes cleared when the realisation dawned on you. The way you had gone from sobs to a different, all-consuming kind of pain, just for a second, your eyes clearing as you realised you might never see him again. He hated himself for not being strong enough to put up a fight, he knew he wasn’t a match for a god, but he should’ve tried, he was too shocked at the time, too heartbroken, but now he was terrified that you might think he gave up on you. He had to get back to you, he was afraid what you might do if you were alone again. If you were alone after having the bond dangled in front of you, only to have it ripped away moments later.

It was almost 3am and everyone else in the house had gone to bed, but Azriel didn’t sleep well normally, and he especially wouldn’t while he was apart from you. He looked up from his book when he heard someone clear their throat, his head whipped up an incredulous smile gracing his features when he saw you sitting there.

“Baby,” he started moving forward but you held your hand up, stopping him.

“Oh that’s just too sweet, you kids are giving me so much content,” you dabbed at your eyes, and Azriel frowned.

“(y/n)? what’s going on?”

“Oh I’m not (y/n) sweetie, but that’s just adorable. My name is Aphrodite, Goddess of love and beauty, I often appear as whoever you find most beautiful.” Azriel’s heart dropped, the brief happiness he felt seeing your face gone as the lady spoke.

“Aphrodite? Hermes mentioned you.” He said, tensing as he realised he was dealing with another god. “In fact he said it was your fault this all happened.”

“Oh Hermes, always blaming someone else. You should be thanking me.”

“And why would I do that.” Azriel knew the look on his face was deadly, but something about seeing a god cower under his gaze was feeding his ego.

“Haven’t you worked out why you can’t travel back to her.” She raised her eyebrows at him, her expressions may be on your face, but as he paid more attention she seemed like a completely different person. “I have the power to move through world’s, you do not. I just thought that poor, sweet girl had been through enough that she should get to meet her soulmate. I waited for you after your mission and then just made you forget and let the two of you fall in love naturally, I mean I get teary eyed thinking about it, you’re just too cute!”

Azriel’s shoulders relaxed slightly, “So why are you here? Are you going to bring her to me?”

“Hmm I could, but I’d get in so much trouble, plus she’s very smart and I want to see if her plan works. You people are so very entertaining.” Her face rippled for a second as she turned, and she briefly looked like Mor, then Elain, then back to you. “But you, poor boy,” He chose to ignore the condescending tone, “You were dealt a very bad hand love wise, so maybe if she doesn’t succeed I could pull a few strings, but I do have a holiday planned so it may be a few decades.”

Her laugh made him feel sick and he glared at her, “What did you say about her plan?”

“Oh yes! She’s going down to the underworld to try find a solution,” Aphrodite was moving around the room gracefully as Azriel sat back down, the weight of Aphrodite’s easy words hitting him. She picked up one of the books laying on the desk and made an unimpressed noise, throwing it back down carelessly.

“That’s where the dead go right?” he asked, silently praying he was wrong,

“Yup! Don’t worry though, her mother lives there too,” she said ‘mother’ with a slight snarl, but Azriel ignored her. “You know I get why she likes you, you’re very pretty aren’t you?” She walked over to him, swaying your hips and he had to remind himself it wasn’t you as she sat down in his lap, forcing his hands to stay clenched at his side. She ran your hand along his jaw, tilting her head with a smile as she stroked his face. Her thumb rested on his bottom lip as he glared at her with murderous rage, trying to reel it in as he remembered she was possibly the only one that could help him.

“Well I guess I better go,” She sighed dramatically then pressed a perfectly polished gold coin into his hand, “Flip this if you need me, emergencies and sex only.” She winked at him, before kissing his cheek and standing, waving seductively before vanishing. Azriel sat for a few minutes, reeling from the interaction he just had. Is this the world I’ve entered now? Gods who can do whatever they want? He wondered if that’s why you avoided talking about the Gods, if maybe growing up with this had made you bitter to them. He wanted to ask you and talk to you about it, or anything for that matter but instead he just pocketed the coin and stood, winnowing to his room, and collapsing on his bed.

--

“Sweetie, you look beautiful,” Your mother cried out as you and Nico arrived, you were leaning heavily on his arm, while surrounded by death, the coldness of a lifeless place seeped into your bones and weakened you, you had learnt as much the first time you visited. You gave your mother a tight-lipped smile and hugged her awkwardly.

“Oh I missed you so much dear,” she stroked your hair, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“You could’ve visited.” It was hard to keep the bitterness out of your voice, after all you had gone through and she hadn’t visited once. A look of shock passed over her face but before she could reply Hades thundered in, his usual outfit, ‘the robes of death and despair’ as you fondly called them, were replaced by a dark suit, his hair slicked back from his face. He came to Persephone’s side and rested a hand around her waist pulling her in slightly, and despite yourself you felt a little jealous of their closeness as your mother looked up at him with doe eyes.

“Nico, my son, how are you?” Hades deep voice silenced the room, the very air seeming to stand still, and Nico flushed red as he was put on the spot. The four of you exchanged pleasantries as you made your way to the ridiculously long table, Hades sat at the head on one side, Persephone on the other, with Nico and you facing each other in the centre. The wood was dark, but the table was covered in all sorts of colourful food and you all helped yourselves while making small talk, only managing to hear your parents due to the eery silence of the room, dead guards not needing to make any noise.

After the first few courses and once you had consumed enough white wine to gain some courage you turned to face your mother.

“Mum, I think I need a favour if that’s okay?” you asked with great caution, extremely aware of the powerful forces surrounding you.

“Well that depends dear. What is it?”

“After the battle and the… fall, I never got my reward remember, I instead asked to be able to come get it when I needed it.”

“Yes of course, I thought that was very smart!” your mother spoke cheerfully but you could feel Hades’ gaze on your back, burning through your skin and bones to the very essence of your soul. “Let me guess, you need it now?”

“If that’s okay, some things have changed recently and I now know what I need,” you smiled at her, “I met a man, well actually he’s a faerie. Aphrodite wanted us to meet because we’re soulmates and after my fall she thought I deserved to see him, but since he’s from another world he had to go back, and we can’t be together.” You wiped away a few stray tears you forced out; this was your game. Your mother didn’t visit you often so she had never seen this side of you, the side that could manipulate even a god into giving you what you wanted. “So I thought, maybe for my reward I could become Fae and be permitted to live with Azriel in his world, and maybe come and visit my friends occasionally?”

“Oh that sounds lovely dear! That’s so alike me, I had to beg my mother and even then she didn’t let me stay here,” your mother rattled on and you smiled at her, but your shoulders were still tense as you knew you hadn’t won yet. You turned to where Hades sat, rubbing his temples.

“I get it. I do. But I really don’t think my brother would allow that, it’s too much.”

“Too much?” you asked, a bitter laugh escaping.

“I understand you went through a lot,”

“Do you?” you couldn’t stop the biting words, “Because the last I checked you both sat and did nothing while I was tortured down there. You could’ve done something, but you didn’t, you made a choice not to, and now I ask for ONE thing, and it’s too much?” Hades’ glare was murderous, but you weren’t going to back down.

“I mean if you really think about it, I’ll be out of your hair if you agree. One less demi-god always seems to be a win for you guys.” Nico said your name in warning, but you slowly stood. “I am not asking for much, I am asking to be allowed to live a life with the man I love and after all I have been through, fighting YOUR battles, I think it’s the least I deserve.”

You held Hades’ gaze for a few more seconds until he spoke. “Are you sure your not a child of Nyx?” he asked, and you grinned, cocking your head to the side.

“Why would that be?”

“You have a pure evil streak in you girl and uncharted power. You better learn to control it, before someone catches on.”

“We won’t have a problem I’m presuming?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said gruffly, going back to his meal and you relaxed, moving to hug your mother goodbye, whispering thanks to her, before linking arms with Nico and leaving.

--

The next day you awoke to a golden invitation to Olympus, and you smiled, soon. You’d be with him soon.

--

Olympus looked much nicer since Annabeth had gotten involved. You may have been biased but it seemed to hold a sense of home it never had before, the clinical cleanliness now feeling purer and more loving. The throne room however had remained much the same.

You stood alone in the middle surrounded by the arc of thrones, but you refused to take your eyes of Zeus. You had received a wink from Apollo and a smile from Aphrodite as you walked in but beside that it had been eye contact for at least five minutes. You knew better to speak before you were spoken to but the way they surrounded you and stared down on you was bringing up bad memories and you were really fighting a panic attack.

Seemingly sensing this Apollo cleared his throat, “Perhaps we should start father?” While you were grateful a part of you hated how well the flirtatious god knew you, he was the first to tend to your wounds when you first escaped, healing them enough so you wouldn’t die from blood loss but not enough for anyone to suggest he was picking favourites. His warm hands had provided a sense of comfort you thought you had lost entirely.

Zeus nodded slowly, a letter appearing in his hand, “So these are your terms? Transformation into high Fae, permission to live in a new world with visits back to this one twice a year?” you presumed Hades, or your mother had written the letter, neither of them present currently. You nodded clearly, not entirely trusting your voice.

“I guess it’s only fair, but a full transformation will hurt,”

“I’m sure I can take it.” you lifted your chin, holding your shaking hands tightly in an attempt to conceal them.

Zeus laughed, not taking his eyes of you, “I’m sure you can. Does anyone have any major oppositions?”

Aphrodite raised her hand, “I’d like to add that during her transformation, her womb changes shape so she may birth Illyrian children.” You shot her a grateful look, still not entirely sure why she was suddenly so invested in ensuring your happiness, but you wouldn’t complain.

Hera was the next to speak and you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “Why is she getting special treatment again? What did she do that was so different?”

“She was tortured for days!” Athena exclaimed,

“So?” Ares now.

“She was a child, it was brutal.” Apollo jumped to your aid and soon the chamber was filled with shouting voices as they argued over your fate.

“SILENCE.” Zeus quieted the room instantly and every eye turned to him, but he remained focused on you, “Well then? Answer the question girl, what makes you so special?”

You thought for a second before answering, “I don’t consider it special treatment. After the battles I’ve fought and the pain I’ve endured to help your causes, I’d consider it a form of retirement.” You kept Zeus’ gaze and let a streak of the evil Hades had warned you off show, smiling when his smug smile disappeared. He waved his hand, “Very well then, High Fae with altered womb and permission to live in their world and visit our occasionally, that is all?”

You nodded and he assessed you before holding out his hand, his gaze darkening. You furrowed your eyebrows as your limbs started to tingle before pain took over your entire body.

--

You had felt pain so many times before, pain that left more than just physical trauma, but this was different. You felt as if your blood had become fire and every bone was breaking as new ones reformed. You didn’t have any sense of time or place, all you could feel was pain. At one point you thought it was over only to open your eyes, feeling impossibly soft sheets beneath you, and see Apollo hovering over you, sweat dripping from his brow as he took some of the pain away, even for just a moment.

When you finally awoke you were on the ground. You stood up quickly, almost knocking yourself over as your movement were much faster than usual. You were outside a glowing city, it didn’t have skyscrapers like New York, but it was so comforting to look at you felt yourself being drawn in. As you crossed the border however, a beautiful man with dark hair appeared, his eyes narrowing.

“Who are you and why are you trying to get in here?” A shot of fear went through you as you felt his magic, it was thick in the air and powerful.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone, I’m just looking for someone,” you explained, swallowing down the lump in your throat. The handsome man’s gaze turned vacant before softening after a moment.

“I apologise, I’m Rhysand. Let me help you find whoever it is, what’s their name?”

“That’s okay, really. His name is Azriel, but I don’t think he’s expecting me.” Rhysand stopped, his head turning towards you, “what is it?” you asked.

“(y/n)?”

“How do you know my name?” you stepped back but he held out his hands,

“No, no I’m Az’s brother, let me take you to him.” he grabbed your arm softly and suddenly you were standing in a warm room facing Azriel. You felt tears fill your eyes as you stared at him, he uttered your name in question and you nodded running into his arms, completely engulfed by his scent, tears of joy running down your face when you suddenly realised something, pulling away.

“Did you say brother?” you turned to Rhysand, feeling all the plants in the air respond to your calls, when Azriel tugged you back to him.

“Not biological don’t worry.” He whispered and Rhysand laughed.

“I like her.”

“Hmm I was two seconds away from castrating you,” His eyes widened slightly and you laughed, turning back to Azriel as he looked over you.

“How- you, you’re Fae?” His eyes were filled with worry again, afraid he was being tricked.

“I never got my reward remember, I knew I would need it in the future,” you smiled at him as he cupped your face and leaned down to kiss you. You pulled apart, Azriel growling when you heard catcalls, turning, and seeing the room had practically filled. A shot of fear went through you as your eyes landed on another man who had red siphons, and Azriel followed your gaze, a hand stroking your face in reassurance.

“So this must be (y/n), welcome to our home, I’m Feyre,” A beautiful woman stepped forward and clasped your hand in hers, which you noted were stained from paint. Everyone else soon made introductions and they urged you to sit as you found out about this makeshift family Azriel was in.

“Oh! That’ll be Nyx, I’ll go,” Feyre said when a baby started crying in the distance,

“Wait what did she say the babies name was?” You asked, holding in a laugh.

“Nyx?” Rhys said,

“Oh, course, cool cool cool,”

“What?” Azriel asked, looking at you strangely.

“I’ve kind of met her,”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, she’s like the evilest deity there is, and she did not like me,” Rhysand stared at you with a look of shock on his face, but before anyone said anything else, Amren was laughing loudly.

“You must tell me all about these Gods girl.”

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tags: @tastedlikedamnation

#acotar #acowar #acofs #acomaf #acofas #Azriel #azriel x reader #percyjackson #Heroes of Olympus

[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

You Better, You Better, You Bet - Chapter 6

Adore You

Ron Speirs x Juliet Fletcher

Summary: Juliet Fletcher reaches a breaking point in her life. When she is at her absolute lowest, she meets Ron Speirs, and something happens between them that neither of them will ever forget.

Word Count: 4.2k

Tag List: @vintagelavenderskies​​​ @how-are-those-nuts-sarge​​​ @iilovemusic12us​​​ @hesbuckcompton-baby​​​ @tvserie-s-world​​​ @whovian45810​​ @50svibes​​​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this update!

Warning(s): The beginning of this is just a touch NSFW, but nothing explicit. Also, mentions of abuse and later abortion. 

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5

AO3 link

Chapter 6 here we go!!!

Sunlight pooled into the room above the Blue Boar, warming the skin of the two bodies tangled up in the sheets upon the bed. It illuminated for Juliet all the places Ron had touched her the night before, the memory of it as electrifying and sensual as the moment itself. She stirred to look up at his sleeping face, goosebumps erupting over her as she recalled the number of times she’d whined his name as he drew climax after climax out of her. It made her squirm against him now from her spot tucked into his side. No one had ever made love to her like that before, and she found herself hungry for more already. 

To steady herself, she listened to his heart, counting the beats coming steady and strong. It didn’t help quell the ache between her thighs because she just remembered bracing herself against that firm chest as she straddled and rode him. Face growing warm with all the images of their tryst, she shifted again. This time, enough to wake him. 

“Morning,” he said, voice raspy with sleep. “‘M surprised you’re up. Must not have done my job right.” 

“Believe me, you did more than enough,” she returned, pressing her lips to his chest, right beside the faint marks from her fingers. Her own voice was a bit hoarse as well, but she had used it quite a bit during the evening.

“I see,” he smirked. “You want more then.” 

Very few people could make Juliet Fletcher blush, but that made her cheeks burn. He was right after all. Even with everything they had done, she was eager to have him again. And again and again and again…

“Shut up,” she grumbled. 

“Fine,” he said with a shrug. “Tell me what you’d rather I do with my mouth.” 

She giggled at that, biting her lip as she considered his offer. “I want it on mine.” 

True to his word, he said nothing, but pulled her close for a deep, heated kiss. Their lips were still slightly swollen from the night before, but it didn’t stop them. There was no rush this morning, just gentle exploration, soft moans, and slow hands. 

As his mouth trailed from her jawline to her collarbone, he stopped, something on her skin standing out to him - something he hadn’t noticed in the night. A circular, red scar where her collarbone met her shoulder. He gently touched it with his index finger. 

“Birthmark?” he guessed, but something in his gut told him he was wrong. 

She shook her head. “Scar. The cigar was a pretty typical threat for Dad, but he made good on it once when I got carried away with back chat. And Billy wasn’t around.” 

His face shifted just slightly when his jaw stiffened and his mouth turned down. “How old were you?” 

“Ten,” she told him. “I don’t even remember what I said or why we were fighting. But I remember the pain, that’s for sure.” 

He met her gaze. “You’re awfully casual about something like that.” 

“It was so long ago,” she returned with half a shrug. “Honestly, I forget it’s there most of the time. And he’s gone now.” 

The way she averted her eyes told him it bothered her more than she was letting on, but he didn’t pry. Instead, he pressed his lips to the scar in a display of tenderness that nearly took her breath away. It did not erase what her father had done, but it felt more healed than it ever had before. 

After their morning round, they decided they needed food or they’d never be able to keep this up. So they headed downstairs.

Juliet hummed through most of breakfast, which was a stroke to Ron’s ego, but he didn’t mention it. He just watched her pop a bit of food into her mouth and do her little in-seat dance that was fucking precious in his opinion and appreciated that he was with her. It seemed odd that the last time they’d had breakfast, they were perfect strangers. Just a few weeks later, they knew each other...well, intimately. 

“Why the book?” he asked suddenly. 

She looked at him mid-bite into some toast. “Hm?”

“Why did the book make you kiss me?” he said.

“It really wasn’t the book to be perfectly honest,” she said, setting the toast back on her plate. “It was what you did to get it.” 

He cocked his head to the side questioningly as he took a sip of his coffee. 

“The whole making up multiple bidders, and choosing Humphrey Bogart as the winning name,” she explained. “And then how much you paid for it. No one’s ever done anything like that for me before.” 

“No way,” he returned. “Not even when you were engaged?” 

She shook her head. “Arthur was...a very self-centered man. He wasn’t unkind, but he had a role he wanted me to fulfill. And I was expected to do it without him putting in any effort to keep me there. I think...he always thought I was lucky to have him. So he never took on any grand gestures.”

“I’d hardly call bidding on your book a grand gesture,” he replied, unsure what else to say to that. Putting effort into someone you liked? Wasn’t that setting the bar a little low? That felt like the bare minimum. He had always thought of love as two people sort of earning each other, and continuing to prove that they cared. 

“It was to me,” she said, her voice soft and just a smidge quieter than usual. Which told him she was really touched by what he’d done. It didn’t surprise him since apparently the only man who had never let her down was her brother. “Thank you.” 

“Well, don’t get too mushy, I mostly did it so I can make fun of you,” he said, lightening the mood. 

She snorted. “You’ll get loads of material from that, trust me.” 

“You’re not afraid of what I’ll find?” he asked. 

“I’m not afraid of anything,” she shot back, a determined gleam in her eye. 

For a moment, he believed her. She did seem to put almost her whole self out there for the world to see, so ready to take a risk. With the father she had and the heartbreak she’d endured, it would have been especially understandable for her to be afraid of everything and everyone. But she took the world head on, and had even opened herself up to him, without once asking him for any sort of promise for a future. She was so remarkable to him, he just sat back and admired her. Until she froze and the color drained from her face. 

“Jules?” 

She didn’t answer him, she only stared at a spot on the table, eyes fixed on something in the middle. He followed her gaze and saw a small spider, maybe a couple centimeters long, creeping across the wood. 

“Juliet?” 

“Fucking shit!” she cried, leaping from her seat. The chair scraped against the floor before toppling onto its side as she scampered away, pressing her body into the wall on the other side of the pub. “Ron, you have to kill it!” 

He gaped at her, utterly astounded. “Are you serious?” 

Her ghost-like complexion told him she was, but she nodded her head anyway, eyes wide with paralyzing fear. 

“Spiders?” he questioned. “That’s what gets you?” 

“They’re creepy!” she insisted. “It’s perfectly normal to be -”

“It’s the size of a -”

“I DON’T GIVE A GOOD GODDAMN HOW BIG IT IS, RON, JUST KILL THE BLOODY THING!” 

Resisting the urge to laugh, he picked up a napkin and slapped it down over the spider, wiping it away before balling it up and walking it over to a trash bin to dispose of the remains. When the coast was clear, he approached her and she shuddered. 

“Ugh, I still feel it on me,” she said. 

“It never touched you,” he reminded her. 

She scowled. “Look at my face.”

“I am looking at your face.” 

“Does it look like I want to be sassed?” 

“It does not.” 

“Then keep your little opinions to yourself.” 

“Not an opinion,” he returned. “It really didn’t touch you.” 

“What did I just say?” she shot back. 

“You’re being unreasonable,” he said. 

“Okay, and?”

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s just finish breakfast.” 

“No way!” she cried. “I’m not going back over there, what if there are more of them?” 

“There aren’t.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I do, actually, I was just there.” 

“Can’t we just leave?” she asked. 

“Juliet, I promise if there are any more spiders, I will kill them just as swiftly and mercilessly as this one,” he said. “Let’s finish our meal.” 

She eyed him skeptically, as if at any moment he would open up his jacket to reveal a secret stash of spiders just waiting to assault her, but he only held out his hand. Reluctantly, she took it and allowed him to lead her back to the table. He resumed his seat right away, but she inspected hers first. Satisfied there were no more spiders, she sat. 

He sipped his coffee. “So, is it just spiders or all bugs?” 

“Spiders, mostly,” she answered. “Other bugs I can take care of myself.” 

“Why spiders, then?” 

“It’s just a thing,” she said with a shrug. “I can’t explain it.” 

He could have argued there was a lot about her that couldn’t be explained, but decided against pointing that out. He just took another sip of coffee. She reached for her fork. 

“Juliet, wait!” he said urgently. “I think I see another one!” 

She screamed and hurled the fork away from her. It soared over to the adjacent table and clattered onto it before skidding to a stop. She looked over at it, chest heaving with her frightened breaths. Incidentally, it was free of any creatures. She glowered at Ron and the infuriating smirk on his face.

“That’s not funny,” she grumbled. 

“It’s a little funny,” he returned. 

“I loathe you right now.” 

“I can live with that.” 

She snatched his fork from in front of him and used it instead. “You’re a bully.” 

“Eat your eggs,” he replied. 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she retorted. 

He shot her a steely look, and she stuck her tongue out at him before taking a bite of her eggs. She chewed and swallowed. 

“That’s a good dad look you’ve got there,” she said. “D’you use it on your subordinates?”

“Dad look?” he questioned. 

“Y’know, the stern look,” she said. “You pull it off well.” 

“You seeing that as paternal is only a little bit disturbing,” he replied. 

“That’s fair,” she conceded. “I didn’t have the best example.” 

“I’d say you probably had one of the worst,” he said. 

“Wouldn’t fight you there.” 

“To answer your question, if my men disappoint me, I make it known, in whatever way the situation calls for,” he said. 

“That’s...vague,” she said. 

He only shrugged again before he changed the subject. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?” 

“I’m actually taking the train to Trowbridge to interview the defense attorney for the Lee case,” she said. “I should be back by this evening, though.” 

“You want some company?” he offered. “We don’t have any training going on today.” 

She blinked. “Really?” 

“Sure,” he said. “Despite your attitude, I kinda like spending time with you.” 

“Flattering,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I actually...would love that. Thank you.” 

Once again, something so basic was - to her - going above and beyond. It was clear to him that Juliet had become accustomed to a certain level of interest in her, and it was low. He hoped to prove otherwise. 

***

Trowbridge was not much bigger than Aldbourne, there was just more going on since it was the capital of the county. Juliet was meeting the defense attorney at his office, and she confessed to Ron she was a bit nervous about the interview. He wasn’t an attorney that worked for the government, he was in private practice. His name was Harvey Cooper, and when Juliet had done some background on him, she discovered he was well-known for cases like the Lee case. He had actually sought out Meredith Fisher when the police report came through about Peggy’s body. There was a lot that could go wrong, but Ron reminded her that there was also a lot that could go well. 

They arrived at the office, where they were greeted by a secretary. Harvey emerged from his office with a smile that would have been more appropriate for a salesman than a defense attorney for a murder case. He shook Juliet’s hand, accepted without question that Ron was her photographer, and took them back to his office. He gave a brief, cheerful tour of the place, explaining that he’d done some updating, but was limited because of the war. Juliet and Ron exchanged a surprised look at the man’s chipper disposition. 

“Well, Miss Fletcher, I must say I’m surprised you’re working this story,” Harvey said as they all took seats in his office, Juliet and Ron on one of the desk, and Harvey on the other. “I read some past issues of the London Pursuit, and saw you were an entertainment writer.” 

“Yes,” she said gracefully. “I got a bit of a promotion, you see, with the majority of the men otherwise occupied.” 

“Sure, sure,” Harvey replied. “Of course, in my line of work, I’m more than aware of what women are capable of.” 

Ron watched Juliet’s careful disguise of her distaste to that remark. She forced a smile and tucked her hair behind her ear, before retrieving her notepad and pencil from her bag. 

“Certainly,” she said. “Which brings me to the point at hand. I’ve spoken to the prosecution about Meredith Fisher’s case, and the evidence is really strong. How do you plan to plead?” 

“Not guilty,” Harvey answered simply. 

“On what grounds?” she asked, unsurprised by that answer. 

“Institutional failure,” he said. 

That took her aback. She blinked for a moment and sat back in her seat. “Institutional failure?” 

“Absolutely,” he said. “Operation Pied Piper was under prepared and under planned. According to my research, no one vetted any of the families who agreed to take in children. If you signed up, you were approved, no questions asked.” 

Juliet’s brow furrowed. “While that’s certainly interesting, it doesn’t absolve Mrs. Fisher of responsibility for her individual actions. No other unvetted family has done this.” 

“But they could have,” he insisted. “I believe Mrs. Fisher is being made into a scapegoat for something that could have reasonably happened to any number of the children who were part of the program.” 

She stared at him for a long moment, and Ron watched her. He could see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing. Ron didn’t quite understand it either - it was a flimsy argument. 

“Are you...are you taking the piss?” she questioned. 

“Not in the slightest,” Harvey said. 

“Mr. Cooper, that argument is generally only used in civil cases for things like job termination,” she said. “This is murder. And it didn’t happen to any of the other children. Mrs. Fisher isn’t a stand in for something that’s been happening nationwide, this is a single instance.” 

“But, if the committee in Parliament had done its job, Peggy Lee would never have gone to the Fisher home,” he said. 

“Why?” Juliet pressed. “Does Mrs. Fisher have a record of violence?” 

“No, but one interview could have told them that she had no children of her own,” he said. “They never could conceive - a naturally devastating thing for a woman. Who would trust her with a child after discovering that?” 

She froze, and Ron watched something flash behind her eyes. A storm was brewing inside her, a hellish anger at the implication there. He didn’t agree with what Harvey was saying either, but that was just the sort of comment that set Juliet off. 

“Your entire argument is childless women being unhinged simply because they are childless,” she said, and there was a strain on her voice to keep it level. “There are plenty of women who cannot have children who do not go around murdering other people’s, myself included. Your head is up your ass if you think this will be an acceptable defense in a court of law!” 

It took Ron a moment to fully absorb what she had just admitted. He wondered for a fleeting second if Juliet was bluffing, but she was too ethical. In situations like this, she wouldn’t lie - not about something so serious. He also wondered if it was something he could ask her about, but that was a conversation for later. 

“Any doctor would diagnose her as unstable,” Harvey said, face darkening. “And I don’t appreciate your tone, Miss Fletcher.” 

“I don’t appreciate your ignorance, Mr. Cooper,” she shot back. “She wasn’t diagnosed as anything except woman, and that was by you, not a doctor.”

“Hold on -”

“So if I - I dunno - leapt over this desk and strangled you,” she cut across him, and Ron held back a laugh. “You would reasonably expect another attorney to argue that it’s the responsibility of the London Pursuit because they should have known, say, that my ex-fiancée was an attorney therefore I’m more likely to kill one? Because scorned women are known to be more furious?” 

“That’s not the same.” 

“It’s exactly the same, only in your case, worse,” she snapped. “A child is dead, and you are making a mockery of the fight for justice.” 

“I’m doing my job -” 

“Your job should entail getting Mrs. Fisher evaluated by a doctor and arguing down her sentence based on her mental capacity,” she returned. “Instead, you are reducing her to a monster because she is unable to give birth.” 

“I’m not -” 

“Even if it were true - which it isn't,” she interrupted him again. “It would still be her own fault for putting her hands on a child!” 

Harvey slammed his hands down on his desk, which prompted Ron to get to his feet, but Juliet didn’t even flinch. She stared that lawyer down as if they were in the courtroom already and she was the cross examiner. She was so unafraid it was almost difficult to believe that just hours ago a little spider had sent her running across the room. 

“Miss Fletcher,” Harvey said levelly, casting a sideways glance at Ron. “You clearly came into this interview with your mind made up about my client and this case. I must ask you to leave.” 

She stood up. “You’re right, I did come in here with my mind made up,” she said. “But that’s because I’ve got the facts. Unlike you, Mr. Cooper, I do not rely on drollery to do my job.” 

“That’s a bold statement coming from a woman -” 

“Do not ever reduce me to my sex, Mr. Cooper,” she snapped. “Yours certainly will not protect you from being intentionally stripped of your dignity.” 

With that, she turned on her heel and swept out of the office. Harvey stood up. He went around his desk and started after her. 

“Hold on, what does that mean?!” he called. 

Ron intercepted him at the doorway, stopping Harvey with a hand to the chest. 

“No,” Ron said simply, with a warning look. It went without saying that Ron had about fifty pounds on Harvey, so if he followed them out, there would be consequences. When that was well understood, Ron went after Juliet. 

She was already outside by the time he caught up, and she was waiting for him. The wind blew her hair, and he was briefly struck by how attractive she looked. He was already aroused by how she did in the interview. When he wasn’t on the receiving end of her ranting, it really was something. It was something when he was, but ultimately more enjoyable when it was directed at someone else. Because he could just sit back to watch her go and admire her. 

“Well done back there,” he said. 

“What an absolute wanker,” she said. “Institutional failure, what a fucking joke. And how insulting for Mrs. Fisher. Everyone deserves a lawyer who takes them seriously. And he clearly doesn’t.” 

He only nodded in agreement. “What did you mean by the dignity stripping comment?” 

“I can’t print anything about this until the trial happens, but believe me, that conversation will be included in the article,” she said. “I’m not normally one to get set on taking someone down, but if he seeks cases like this out just to pull stunts like that, the public should be aware.” 

Her face was red with frustration and her pace had quickened. Luckily, Ron had no trouble keeping up since his strides were longer than hers. His own heart was racing, but mostly out of his excitement about her. When there was a break in the buildings, he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her into the alleyway, pinning her against the wall. He stifled her yelp of surprise with a searing kiss. He wanted to show her how much he felt for her. She was smart, passionate, and annoyingly ethical, but he adored her. Seeing her in action only reinforced just how much. 

She moaned into his mouth before they broke apart for air, but clung to his jacket so he wouldn’t get too far away. Her eyes took a moment to re-focus on him after the dizzying intensity of his kiss. 

“You’re incredible,” he breathed. 

She searched his face for something behind his words, but found him genuine. “Thank you.” 

She bit her lip as she looked him up and down, that hunger from the morning returning to her. She craved him again, and when he smirked she knew he was aware of the effect he had. 

“God, what’s wrong with me?” she sighed, shaking her head. 

“Plenty, but I really like you anyway,” he returned, and she beamed. “You wanna get back to Aldbourne?” 

She nodded eagerly. “God, yes.” 

He turned to get onto the street again, but she pulled him back for another kiss, this one just a little longer than the last. 

It was on the train back to Aldbourne that he decided to inquire about what he heard her say in Harvey’s office. Her head rested on his shoulder as the countryside whizzed by, slowly disappearing as the sun sank behind the horizon. He looked at the yellow glow on her face and couldn’t help himself. 

“You really can’t have children?” he asked. 

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Oh, crikey, I almost forgot I mentioned that.” 

“You don’t have to talk about it if -”

“No, it’s quite alright,” she assured him as she sat up. “We are sleeping together, so you’ve got a right to know.” She paused and looked down at her lap before continuing. “I was pregnant once. By a man I’d been seeing only a few weeks. But I was nineteen years old and terrified of what life would be like with a child I didn’t really want.” She fiddled with the handles of her bag. “So I made the decision to terminate. Only, something went wrong, and I was told because of the mistake, I’d be unable to have children. That’s the long and short of it.” 

The confession should have been shocking, but he found himself remarkably indifferent. He wanted to know more about it, but the act itself did not bother him in the slightest. 

“Did you tell the father?” he wondered. 

She shook her head. “No. I’d made up my mind and I didn’t want him to try and persuade me to change it.”

“So you went alone?” he asked. 

“No, Billy took me,” she told him. “No questions asked. He was the only one who understood.”

“Understood?” 

“I wasn’t ready for marriage or a child,” she explained. “I had so much more I wanted to do with my life.” She met his gaze. “And I’ve done it.” 

“So, no regrets, then?” he questioned hesitantly. 

She pondered that, glancing out the window before looking back at his face. “Not really, no. I’m not suited for motherhood, anyway.” She bit her lip. “Is that...is that a problem?” 

Honestly, he had not thought much about the future, especially since the war started. It was dangerous to hope. Juliet had awakened some of that in him - some glimmer of faith that he could go to war and come back to her. But children? He had never thought that far ahead, so life without them didn’t feel like a disappointment. He just wanted her. 

“No, not at all,” he replied. 

She visibly relaxed at that, letting out a low breath before easing herself back into his side. Before she got there, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and made her look at him once more. 

“And by the way, we’re more than just sleeping together,” he said, and he kissed her smile. 

She settled against him and closed her eyes. He draped his arm around her shoulders. They were content.

#ron speirs #band of brothers #easy company #hbo war #juliet fletcher #roliet #you better you better you bet series #ron speirs x ofc #band of brothers fic #band of brothers ofc

[jenonctcity]

My Ending - Part 3

Differences – Na Jaemin

Part of the Bad Boy Series.

Badboy!Au, Streetracer!Au

Disclaimer: This is going to be a very dark themed story, please do not read if you are triggered easily by the mentioned subjects in the warnings.

Warnings: Mentions of Suicide Attempts, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Mental Health Issues (Depression and Anxiety), Character Death, Mentions of Drug Use/Overdose, Mentions of Drug Addiction Effecting Baby After Birth.

Word Count: 8k

---

Silence ensued over the table. The gently murmuring of the people around, the latest pop song playing softly over the speaker, and the noises of cutlery hitting plates was the only thing that filled the silence. Jaemin dipped his fry into ketchup, popping it into his mouth and wiping his hand on the napkin crumpled up on the table. Jeno watched him, his eyes slightly narrowed as he sipped at his milkshake through the straw with his left hand, his newborn baby son occupying his entire right arm, peacefully asleep and blissfully unaware of the tension in the air.

“Just say what you want to say Jeno.” Jaemin rolled his eyes, fed up of the silent treatment that Jeno had been giving him ever since he’d met up with him at the diner. Everything had been going perfectly fine. Until Jaemin dropped the bomb on him that he’d proposed to you. His best friend had gone dead silent and hadn’t spoken to him for a whole five minutes, apart from thanking the waitress when their food turned up. Jeno placed his milkshake cup on the table, clearing his throat and pursing his lips.

“I just think you should have told me.” Jeno finally confessed, picking up his fork and stabbing an onion ring with it, shoving it into his mouth and turning his attention to his plate. “You know since I’m your best friend!”

“It’s not that big of a deal.” Jaemin laughed, rolling his eyes at Jeno’s pettiness. Jeno raised his eyebrows at Jaemin and gave him a stare.

“It is, you had me thinking you were just going to ask her to move in! I didn’t think you were going to ask her to marry you!” Minjun squirmed a little as Jeno’s voice got louder, the baby blue pacifier in his mouth moving as he started to suck on it in his sleep. “Sorry lil guy.” Jeno gently bounced his arm to soothe the baby, Jaemin’s eyes automatically sticking to the baby he so desperately wanted to hold.

“I hadn’t spoken to you since I’d made the decision! I bought the ring the same day I proposed, and you were in the hospital watching your son pop out!” Jeno’s silence proved to Jaemin that he was right, leading him to smirk at him. Jeno sighed and smiled softly.

“Don’t you think you’re rushing into things?” Jaemin quirked an eyebrow up at Jeno, letting out a sarcastic laugh.

“You literally had a baby with someone you’d been with less than a year.” Jeno pursed his lips in realisation, biting his bottom lip and shoving a fry in his mouth. “Exactly. Now give me that baby!” Jaemin reached his hands out across the table, making grabby hands at Minjun. Minjun had graced the world with his presence exactly a week ago, which is the same amount of time Jaemin had had the honour of calling you his fiancée. Of course you’d said yes! Why wouldn’t you? Jaemin was the man you’d been dreaming about since you had known was a relationship was! And since that moment, neither of you had been able to stop smiling, a giddy feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach whenever either of you thought about each other or your future wedding.

“No. Do her parents know yet?” Jeno picked up his milkshake and took another long sip.

“Why?” Jaemin pouted, his eyebrows falling as he let his arms fall. “And yeah, they know. They actually took it really well, but only because they like me a lot.” He smiled smugly, knowing that Jeno’s girlfriend’s parents weren’t huge fans of the man who knocked up their daughter after such a short amount of time. Jeno rolled his eyes in respond, definitely making his mind up about passing over Minjun now. Jaemin had no chance of holding his baby. “Give me the baby!”

“No, he’s mine, make your own. How about grandma?” Jaemin frowned, rolling his eyes and folding his arms over his chest in defeat.

“She’s ecstatic, she loves (Y/N) and you know she’s been bugging me about getting married since I was about fourteen.” He chuckled as he thought about his grandma’s nagging, fond memories flashing through his head whenever he thinks about her. “Seriously, pass me that baby over before I wrestle him out of your arms. Uncle Nana needs a cuddle.” Jeno rolled his eyes, but very gently passed over his pride and joy to the buzzing man across the table. Jaemin almost squealed in delight, cradling the tiny premature baby in his arms like he was holding the thinnest, most breakable piece of glass in the world. “You must be so proud Jen…” He spoke quietly, too engrossed in staring at Minjun’s delicate features to see that Jeno had quickly picked up his burger that had been untouched, biting into it fast.

“Mhm.” Jeno hummed, already used to the delay of eating his food since becoming a father even though it had only been a week. “He’s precious.” He mumbled in-between chews, swallowing the lukewarm food and smiling at the sight of his best friend holding his son, even though Jaemin had already held him plenty of times considering they live together.

“I can’t wait to play match maker with him and Jihyo.” Jaemin’s words had Jeno choking on his burger, his hand coming over his mouth to stop the food from flying across the table. He hastily swallowed and shook his head.

“Nuh uh, not happening. I’d technically be related to Renjun and that’s not something I enjoy the thought of.” Jaemin laughed at Jeno’s revelation, whispering to Minjun just loud enough so Jeno could hear.

“Ignore daddy, don’t worry, Uncle Jaemin will make it happen.” He leaned in and placed a tender kiss to Minjun’s head, hoping that in a few years’ time the roles would be reversed, and it would be Jeno holding his son whilst Minjun quizzed them about the new arrival. Jaemin was excited for the future, because for him, it was only just beginning.

---

The date had been set. Your wedding was to take place exactly a year after the night you got engaged, because you and Jaemin decided that was super romantic, and completely in character for the both of you. The past three months of engagement hadn’t been anything like you’d imagined it to be. And you were starting to get stressed, because the day was slowly creeping up on your, but you hadn’t booked or arranged anything for the big day. Which was slowly driving you up the wall. It seemed to you that every time you tried to pin Jaemin down to sort things out, he was too busy being loved up and trying to get into your panties, or he simply was too busy working on his car or racing. You could feel it building up inside of you, ready to blow like a ticking time bomb. You just didn’t expect it to explode so soon.

You’d had what you could only describe as a shit day. You had to deal with a lady at work who was somewhat difficult, and she refused to eat her dinner, which caused you stress and you knew she hadn’t eaten her lunch either and as her carer it was your responsibility to make sure she was fed. Ultimately though, if she refused to eat, you couldn’t force her. So you’d left her with everything she needed and got in your car with a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You were at the end of your workday, and as you started your car you remembered that you’d promised Jeno’s and Renjun’s girlfriend that the three of you would prepare dinner for the entire family tonight. Every Friday night you all spent the evening together with the kids, and tonight you’d thought it would be good for you to prepare the food instead of ordering takeaway. You regretted that big time now. All you wanted to do was go home, put on your comfiest clothes, and curl up in Jaemin’s arms whilst you looked at stupidly priced flower arrangements. Things got worse after you ran to the supermarket to pick up ice cream for dessert, only to go back to your car to find a big dent in the rear passenger side that hadn’t been there before. You drove home with a horrible feeling in your stomach that only got worse as you let yourself into yours and Jaemin’s shared bedroom.

You had never seen Jaemin doing drugs before, you didn’t even know that he was still doing drugs, as he’d told you that he hadn’t. So your stomach dropped through the floor and sprang back up to lodge itself in your throat when you walked into the bedroom and witnessed Jaemin and Haechan snorting coke off of your bedside table. Jaemin looked up as soon as he heard the door click open, his mouth popping open when he saw you stood there staring at him with your mouth popped open and eyes focused on him. You didn’t know what to think, but you knew exactly how you felt, and it wasn’t going to bring your mood up at all.

“I’m going to go.” Haechan was the first to break the awkward silence. He rose from the bed, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek as he shuffled past you to get out of the room, shutting the door behind him to save everyone in the house from hearing everything you were going to say to each other.

“Baby…” Jaemin also rose to his feet, sniffing quickly and rubbing the residue of cocaine off his nose as he went to approach you.

“Don’t baby me.” You shook your head, your voice hard and stern, letting him know that he was about to be in trouble. He visibly gulped, his mouth falling open as he tried to form words, but he didn’t really know what to say to you. “You…uh fuck you Jaemin.” You muttered, spinning around to open the door when he hurried to stop you from leaving. You’d managed to open the door only by an inch when Jaemin went slamming into it with his whole body, inevitably preventing your exit.

“Please don’t go, I promise I’ll stop if you don’t like me doing it!” Something you’d come to figure out about Jaemin was that he was a huge people pleaser, especially when it came to you. You found that if he had done the slightest thing to cause your mood to sour, then he was immediately trying to fix your mood and make you happy with him again. Usually it worked, but this was the cherry on top to your crappy day, and you didn’t even want to talk to anyone else for the rest of the day.

“It isn’t that you’re doing the drugs Jaemin! I made it quite clear to you that I wasn’t bothered by what you do, as long as you don’t get your stupid ass thrown in jail then I’m fine with it, it’s your life. But you know what I also made fucking clear, I made it clear that I wanted you to tell me about thing like this. Don’t go behind my back and do shit like this Jaemin.” You tried to pull on the door handle but Jaemin wasn’t shifting his weight from the spot on the door.

“You aren’t my mother.” He mumbled, having the audacity to roll his eyes when you were looking at him. “Listen-”

“No, you listen to me.” You frowned up at him, holding back the tears that pooled in your eyes from your anger, sadness, and from how fed up of the day you were. His eyes widened at your strict tone, realisation hitting him that he probably should have given you attitude. “You did this behind my back Jaemin, that’s called betrayal, because I trusted you when you told me you would tell me everything. What if you accidentally overdosed and I didn’t even know you were doing drugs?! What the fuck would I tell the doctors?!” He slowly moved his weight off of the door, his eyes glued onto yours despite the shame inside of him making his eyes want to drift away. He knew if he broke eye contact with you when you were in a mood like this and feeling so passionately about something, then he was be in even bigger trouble. “Also, I’m fucking stressed out and everything is going wrong today.” That’s when the flood barrier broke and you let out a sob, the tears running down your cheeks and pooling on your jawline. Jaemin gulped, reaching out to hold your hand in his but you snatched it away from him, not finished with your rant yet and knowing if you caved in and let him touch you, then you’d just let it all go. “Work was shit and someone dented my car.” You whined, feeling some of the pressure coming off of your chest as you vented. “And then I come home to this shit!”

“Someone dented your car?!” Of course that was Jaemin decided to point out. “Who?”

“I don’t know! They didn’t leave any details and it happened when I was in the supermarket.”

“I’ll buy you a new car beautiful.” He stepped closer to you, but again, you stepped back, just shaking your head at him to tell him no.

“That isn’t going to excuse you doing drugs and lying to me about it. You told me that you didn’t them anymore!” You eyed the door handle again when Jaemin was glancing down at his feet and rubbing the back of his neck in nervousness.

“I only did it a few times…”

“I don’t care! It still happened!!!” You whimpered, almost stomping your foot on the floor from how frustrated you were getting at the fact he didn’t seem to understand why you were so upset with him.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” He cleared his throat, moving to sit on the bed and putting his head in his hands, anxiety swimming around in his stomach from the thought that he could lose you from this, that’s why he had tried to make excuses and to change the subject by offering to buy you a car.

“It better not.”

“Why are you stressed baby girl? You should have told me that you were feeling stressed.” He had noticed that over the past few days you were far more agitated than you usually were, but he hadn’t brought it up in fears that he was just imagining it and it would cause you to be offended.

“Because we’re getting married in nine months Jaemin and we haven’t booked fuck all of the wedding, and every time I try to get you to help me arrange it, you brush it off or tell me that your busy! I can’t plan a wedding on my own, it’s your wedding just as much as its mine.” You wiped at your eyes with the palms of your hands, sniffing back your emotion and letting out a deep breath to try and steady your breathing. This was your first fight with Jaemin, and it left a putrid feeling inside of you that felt like it was rotting you from the inside out.

“I’ll make more of an effort okay, I’m sorry.” He gulped, his face feeling hot and his heart beating faster in his chest as a side effect of the drug he took.

“You have time to snort cocaine but you haven’t got time to plan your o-”

“I said I’m fucking sorry okay?!” He knew the over confidence was the cocaine talking and he immediately winced, standing up and rushing to you to embrace you as his apology. But you were already holding a hand out to stop him.

“I’m going to stay at my parents house tonight. Don’t contact me until tomorrow.” You stormed out quickly, ignoring everyone as they watched you leave, not really caring what they thought of you in that moment, it’s something you’d think about at a later date.

“Baby no!” Jaemin was hot on your heels, grabbing his own car keys on the way out but that’s when Renjun and Jeno stopped him, both of them pinning him to the wall.

“You’re not driving under the influence.” Jeno pried the keys out of his hand with a lot of difficulty, since Jaemin had seemed to be determined to follow you.  

“I have to stop her!” Jaemin fought against them, his body thrashing as he tried to push them off of him.

“Jaemin no!” Haechan stood up quickly, helping Jeno and Renjun in restraining the frantic man.

“If she leaves she won’t come back!” Jaemin shouted, his eyes filling with tears as the he fell to the floor in a heap as a last attempt to move past them. Haechan was quick though, and he tackled him to the floor. “They never come back when they leave!” He started to sob as panic set in, his limbs shaking as his thoughts poisoned his mind.

“She will be back.” Jeno used a soft tone once he realised that his best friend was panicking because he was relating you leaving him, to his mother leaving him. “Shh, calm down.” He pocketed the keys and rubbed a hand against his head.

“Why is Uncle Nana crying?” Jiyeon’s soft voice made Jeno and Renjun’s head snap to the doorframe where she was stood, a worried expression on her face with her teddy bear in her arms.

“Jiyeon you’re supposed to be in the living room with everyone else.” Renjun sighed, standing up fast and rushing to his daughter. Haechan and Jeno let go of Jaemin once they saw he’d calmed down, Jeno giving him a hand to stand up. Jaemin ran a hand through his hair, sniffing back his tears and walking back towards his bedroom. Once he reached it through, his fist clenched, and before he could stop himself, he had already punched a dent in the wood. Renjun was still stood within eyesight with Jiyeon looked over his shoulder at the incident. Her little face crinkled up as she broke out into a cry, clinging onto her daddy tighter from fright.

“Uncle Nana scary!” She cried into her fathers’ shoulder. Renjun tensed up, not quite believing that Jaemin would do that in front of a two-year-old.

“It’s okay honey, let’s go see Jihyo.” He stroked a hand up and down her little back to comfort her as she cried, knowing if he didn’t calm himself by using his daughters then he was going to go ape shit at Jaemin. Jeno groaned, leaning his head against the wall in defeat, unsure of what to do.

You spent the night at your parent’s house, just telling them that you felt rough and needed a break from the hectic apartment for one night. They were more than happy to have their baby back home for a night, even if you went straight to bed and slept straight through to the morning. You felt like something was missing, and you knew it was Jaemin. It was Saturday and you had no other obligations to do other than to go home and make up with your boyfriend. You had breakfast with your parents and siblings, trying to enjoy the fussing of your mother and the dad jokes your dad kept coming out with. But it was hard when all you could think about was Jaemin. You worried about him, mostly because of his depression and you knew that this was probably harder on him, even if he was the cause of the argument, you still felt like you should worry about him more than yourself.

Arriving back at the apartment was bittersweet. You considered it as your home now and you were super comfortable living there with the people Jaemin considered as family, so to be back home made you feel good, even if you had only been away for one night. But it left a bitterness on your tongue because you knew the mood would be sour when you entered. You were wrong, Renjun had taken his girlfriend and kids back over to the opposite apartment that they spent most of their time in, Haechan was still in bed asleep, and Jeno and his girlfriend were cuddled up on the sofa watching the morning news with Minjun asleep in her arms. However, Jaemin was laying on his bed with his eyes shut when you entered, his eyes immediately opening and landing on you. His eyes were clearly bloodshot from his lack of sleep, and he sat up fast.

“Don’t say anything,” You spoke softly, approaching him quickly and taking his face in your hands. “Just listen. I’m sorry I was super harsh on your yesterday, I just wanted to express how I felt and I realise now that it was a bit too much…have you slept?” You stroked your thumbs against his hot cheeks, letting out a sigh when he shook his head.

“No…I’m sorry baby, can we make up now?” He wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his forehead against your stomach and letting out a tired sigh and a yawn.

“Yeah, we can.” You couldn’t stay mad at him for too long, and you felt a lot better today after having vented the night prior, your mood a lot calmer and leading you to make a rational conclusion about it all. The two of you moved so that you were cuddling on the bed, him being the big spoon and snuggling his head into the crook of your neck from behind.

“I promise to make more effort for the wedding.” He whispered, his hot breath washing over your skin and sending a chill down your spine. You let out a very gentle laugh and closed your eyes, feeling a wave of sleepiness attack your eyes, probably from the warmth of Jaemin and from how tired he looked himself.

“It’s so stressful to plan a wedding, I wish we could just elope next week.” You joked, letting out another soft laugh and a yawn. Jaemin laughed with you, but then cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

“Let’s do it.”

“What? Elope?” You opened your eyes and twisted your head around to glance at him. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes racked over your face, taking in all of your features that he loved each of so much. He still couldn’t believe how someone as perfect as you walked straight into his life and hadn’t walked back out again as soon as you got to know him.

“Yeah, maybe not next week though…how about on our one-year anniversary? It’s in like two months, right?”

“Three months…okay!”

“And we can just buy the outfits a-wait…did you say okay?” He felt a wide smile pulling at the corners of his lips, one you quickly mirrored.

“I did, let’s do it.”

 ---

Neither of you had told a soul. It was a Sunday, and you both hoped into Jaemin’s car, both of your wedding outfits stowed away into the boot so that no one could see them as you drove to the local chapel. It was your anniversary today too, so you felt like you were on cloud nine with Jaemin, both of you so in love with each other that it almost physically hurt. Of course people would judge you for getting married after only being together for a year. But fuck them! It’s none of their business, and neither of you cared for anyone else’s opinions. You both got changed in separate rooms, and you felt the air almost get knocked out of your chest when you saw Jaemin in his suit. It reminded you of the first time you laid eyes on him when he was wearing the suit from his mother’s funeral, and you remembered just how much your mouth nearly watered at the sight of him. Jaemin felt his eyes sting and a lump forming in his throat at the sight of you in your white wedding gown. It was a simple silk gown that hugged your figure and pooled around your white high heels.

You felt tears pool in your eyes as you said your vowels, Jaemin’s hands completely still compared to your shaky ones as you slid the ring up his finger. You don’t think you could ever forget the bright smile and twinkle in his eye as you watched him recite his own vowels, his bottom lip between his teeth as the minister declared you husband and wife. The ring felt foreign on your finger, but it was a welcome feeling, and you soon forgot about it as Jaemin’s lips pressed to yours, his hands sitting on your hips so tenderly you could hardly feel them. His lips were warm, and ignited the fire in your heart once more, like the kiss was dousing your love in a fuel that would make it explode. When you drew back, you both gazed into each other’s eyes and let out soft giggles.

“Mrs Na.” He whispered, laying another kiss to the corner of your mouth before swiping your hand up in his own. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, my husband.” You giggled again, completely giddy about your new titles for each other.

“I guess we should go and tell everyone, who shall we visit first?” He guided you back down the aisle, his heart beating so fast he genuinely thought it was going to pop out of his chest.

“My parents and then your grandma?” He nodded quickly at your suggestion. The both of you decided to keep your suit and gown on, wanting it to up the shock factor to all of your unsuspecting family and friends. All of the legal stuff and fees had been taken care of before, so you were just free to go on about the rest of your day as newlyweds. Even sitting in Jaemin’s car had you feeling different, and you almost bounced on the seat from your excitement.

When you arrived at your parent’s house, you both ducked down as you walked up the garden path, just in case one of your eager eyed siblings spotted you on your way to the door. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door, despite the key that you owned. Your mother was the one who answered the door, and she gave you a furrowed eyebrowed, head pulled back in confusion look.

“It’s not Halloween you crazy kids! What’s this all about?” She moved out of the way to let you both in. You both shuffled in, removing your shoes and giggling at her expression. Jaemin gave her a hug and kissed her on the cheek.

“We have something to tell you, but we should gather everyone together.” You couldn’t help the big grin stuck on your face, and you wondered if it would ever disappear.

“It’s just me and your father home, the kids are all out, we could wait for them to come home?”

“How long will they be?” You titled your head, going through to the living room with your mum and Jaemin. Your dad was sitting on the sofa watching the football, but at the sight of you in a wedding dress and veil his eyes almost burst out of his skull. You sniggered and pulled Jaemin beside you.

“A few hours.”

“It’s okay, we’ll just tell you two.” You looked up at Jaemin, biting your bottom lip as your mum sat beside your dad.

“What’s going on?” He raised an eyebrow, trying to hide back his sarcastic remarks about your outfits, wanting to make a halloween joke so badly.

“We got married!” You held your hand out to your parents to show off your ring, trying not to feel dejected when neither of them smiled, instead both of their mouths dropping open in shock and their eyebrows turning into frowns.

“Without telling us?! The wedding isn’t supposed to be for months!” Your dad sat up straighter, clearly annoyed that he wasn’t part of his oldest daughter’s wedding.

“Aren’t you happy for us?” Your sudden sad face and pout had your parents immediately back tracking, both of them jumping up to hug you.

“We are princess, we’re just a bit upset that we weren’t there is all.” Your mother kissed your forehead while your dad shook Jaemin’s hand.

“We’re going to have another wedding reception that’s family only, so you’ll be apart of that.” Jaemin smiled, hoping that would give your parents a peace of mind. It seemed to work, but you knew they were still not 100% happy with your decision. You stayed with them for a little while, before hopping back into the car to go to Jaemin’s grandmas.

“Do you think she’ll take the news better than mum and dad?” You asked Jaemin, turning your head to him as he stopped at a red light of an intersection. He smiled, placing a hand on your knee and stroking his thumb against the silky fabric of your dress.  

“I think she might be a bit upset too, but she’ll just be happy that I finally got a ring on your finger before you could change your mind.” He chuckled, leaning across the seat and laying a kiss on your parted lips.

“I considered it.” You winked at him to tell him you were joking. He gasped in mock offense, shaking his head and biting the inside of his mouth.

“You can’t escape me now (Y/N), you’re in this for the long ride now.” He winked back at your and chuckled, driving when the light turned green.

“I wouldn’t want to leave you any-” You never got to finish that sentence.

---

“Jaemin?” Jeno’s voice was foggy, like his head was being held underneath a pillow being smothered to death. He opened his eyes fully, immediately wincing at the harsh lights above him. His throat felt like a serrated knife had been lodged inside of it, every time he gulped to try and quench the dryness, it stung and left him almost gasping for water. Despite that, he didn’t feel dehydrated, and he couldn’t feel much more of his body. Everything felt numb to a certain extent, but it felt good when he flexed his toes out, the stiffness loosening his muscles out. “Jaemin it’s me, can you hear me buddy?” It was then he remembered that Jeno had been talking to him, his voice now clearer as Jaemin’s head defogged.

“Yeah.” He whispered, his eyes baring into Jeno’s. “You look like shit.” He managed to whisper out when he noticed Jeno’s appearance. Jeno had bloodshot eyes and big dark circles underneath them, like he hadn’t slept in centuries. His hair was a mess, and his lips looked sore as if he’d been constantly biting them. Jeno gave him a very small smile, letting out a very soft sigh.

“I’ll be back in a moment.” He rose from his seat, exiting the room only to reappear a few moments later. “The doctor is now coming; do you remember what happened?” He asked with a very soft tone, his hands shaking slightly as they ran through his already messed up hair. Jaemin let out a sigh, narrowing his eyes as he tried to rack his brain, until it suddenly hit him.

“(Y/N)!!! Where is she?! W-we got hit by something didn’t we? I-I don’t remember anything except everything going black a-and…Jeno is she okay?!” He felt panic settle in, and he tried to sit up, but was restricted from doing so when he placed his hand on the mattress to push himself up, only to be hit by a pain he’d never felt before. It was excruciating, the pressure he put on it making the pain flare up, since there was only so much pain that the medication he had been given could take away.

“Jaemin stay still!” Jeno pushed Jaemin back into his pillows very gently, more guiding him by his shoulders than pushing.

“Jaemin, hello I’m doctor Park.” A middle-aged man with grey hair entered the room with a calming smile on his face. “Please don’t move too much, you’ll do yourself more harm than good.” He approached the bed and looked into Jaemin’s eyes, he took a deep breath and began to explain to Jaemin. “You’re been unconscious for two days, you haven’t sustained any brain damage, and you’re expected to make a full recovery, however, you have broken multiple ribs, and your left wrist, and we’ve given you stitches on multiple lacerations over your body which will likely scar.”

“I don’t care about me! Tell me is my wife okay?!” Jaemin wanted to scream, but he knew that wouldn’t do any good. He just needed to see you and make sure that you were okay.

“Mr Na, you were involved in a very severe car collision. The car hit your car at such a speed that your car flipped multiple times,” Jaemin’s eyes flicked over to Jeno as the doctor spoke, and he saw a tear roll down his cheek. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked back up at the doctor, waiting for the explanation. He felt his heart in his chest, it was pounding so hard that it felt like it was rising through his throat, a bad feeling burning in his stomach. “The other driver of the car died on impact, and you had to be cut free of your car. Your wife also had to be cut from the car. She was brought back here, and we took her straight into surgery after discovering that she had a bleed on the brain,” Jaemin felt like the pillow was being smothered over his head against when he heard those words. His heart now pounding in his head like a deafening drum that was causing his entire body to start quivering. “We did everything that we could, but she sustained too much brain damage. Mr Na, your wife is what we call brain dead.” Jaemin was took in shock to react, just staring up at the doctor as he listened to the pounding in his head. “We had two senior doctors perform tests to come to this conclusion, and she failed all of the tests. Her heart is still beating, but only because she’s on a ventilator that is keeping her breathing. We can’t take her off of the ventilator until we have permission from her next of kin, which as her husband, would be you.” Jeno put his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking as he silently sobbed for you both. He had already heard this news, but it still hurt just as much hearing it again, especially as it was being told to Jaemin.

“Is she in pain?” Jaemin just wanted to know if you could feel any pain, surely if your heart was still beating and you were still breathing then you were alive, and there was hope that you could recover? “Will she ever recover?” He was still in shock, and he had no idea where the power to ask questions were coming from.

“She can’t feel anything, I can assure you that she didn’t feel any pain from the moment that this accident happened. And no, she wont ever recover. Brain death is permanent and cannot be reversed.” The doctor had a soothing voice, it was no wonder he was the one who was sent into Jaemin’s room to deliver the news.

“Okay.” Jaemin gulped, nodding his head as the news hadn’t yet sunk in. “Can I see her?”

“If you feel well enough, then yes, you may.” Doctor Park and Jeno both helped Jaemin into a wheelchair, and Jeno couldn’t help but take Jaemin’s good hand into his hand as the doctor pushed the wheelchair through the halls. He stopped in front of a closed door and slowly opened it, pushing Jaemin inside and placing him beside your bed. “I’ll leave you alone. If you have any questions, I’ll be outside.” He exited the room and shut the door gently behind him. Jaemin stared at your cut up face, pushing himself out of the wheelchair to stand up so he could get a better look at you.

“Oh.” It was looking at the big pipe going down into your mouth that made it sink in. He broke down in hard sobs when he realised the only thing keeping your heart beating for him was that tube. “Oh baby.” He reached his hand out stroked your cheek tenderly, wanting nothing more than for you to lean into his touch like you normally would, maybe even press a soft kiss to the palm of his hand. “Wake up…” He whispered, heavy tears rolling down his cheeks as he let out choked sobs that made his throat burn. “Please (Y/N)! You can’t leave me like this!” He had never felt so desperate before in his entire life. But deep down he knew that no matter how much he begged you, your delicate body couldn’t recover from this. There was a big bandage around your hair, and he could hardly recognise you from how bruise and cut up your face was. He felt his chest burn, like an invisible python was wrapping its way around him and constricting his breathing.

“Jaemin!” Jeno rushed forward and caught Jaemin just as he was about to collapse, holding his brother tight as he cried with him. “I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry Jaemin.” He gently rocked them back and forth, mourning with Jaemin for his loss. He didn’t give a fuck that he hadn’t been told about the wedding, all he wanted was for you to be alive, so that he could see you by Jaemin’s side as his lifelong partner.

“She can’t be gone!” Jaemin shook his head, gasping for air between the sobs that fell from his lips. “I love her!” He didn’t realise what he was saying, he just wanted you to open your eyes and tell him that everything was going to be okay. Jeno held Jaemin until he calmed down, which took half an hour. He set him back in his wheelchair and wiped his cheeks for him with a tissue as he just stared at your lifeless body. Silence ensued for a long time as Jaemin tried to process everything. But he didn’t think he could ever fully process what had happened. It was ironic really. You’d fallen in love with each other so fast, only to be ripped away from each other just as fast. It had been a year of mostly ups, with hardly any downs, and Jaemin felt like he wasn’t being selfish when he very brokenly said. “A year wasn’t long enough.”

---

Jaemin didn’t want visitors. But he couldn’t find it in his heart to turn your parents away when they showed up at the door to his hospital room the day after he’d woken up. They were the closest thing he had to you now, and he knew that even though you weren’t around anymore, he would still keep them close to him for the rest of his life. The meeting was filled with tears and hugs, and they didn’t fail to mention to Jaemin that you had told them plenty of times how deeply in love with him you were. It was hard for Jaemin to hear, but he also desperately needed to hear it. They told him that your siblings had already said their goodbyes to you. They were still young and didn’t need the anguish of waiting around for Jaemin to give the doctors the go ahead to turn off your ventilators. However they both wanted to wait to be there by Jaemin’s side when it was finally time. Jaemin felt like the world was playing some kind of sick joke on him. He hadn’t even been married to you for a whole day when you were ripped away from him, and now he had to be the person that decided whether your heart stopped beating or not. He felt like it was a double-edged sword. He got to marry you, and you felt so much love on the day you stopped living that Jaemin was so happy that the marriage had happened. But on the other hand, the decision now rested on him instead of on your parents.

When the time finally came for your machines to be turned off, Jaemin made everyone say their goodbyes before him. Jeno had surprised Jaemin by bringing his grandma to the hospital for support. She was absolutely crushed, especially after she had found out that you were on the way to her house when you’d gotten into the accident. But Jaemin had just held her tight like he used to after school when he was upset about being bullied. The room emptied out when it was Jaemin’s turn, and he slowly approached the bedside he’d spent so much time by the past week that he’d been in hospital, unable to tell the doctors that it was okay to let your heart stop, he felt numb. His eyes watered like they had so much over the past week, and he took your warm hand in his own, enjoying your warmth for one last time.

“Hey baby, I don’t really know what to say to you,” He took a deep breath and lowered his forehead to rest against your own, his knuckles turning white from how hard they were clutching your hand. “I guess I should start from the beginning, although its not like you weren’t there for it all, we spent nearly every day together when we were falling in love didn’t we? Those were the best day of my life, and forever will be.” He closed his eyes as tears slowly trickled down his cheeks. “I’ve never been loved by someone in the way you loved me, and I miss you so much. You accepted me for who I was, and I hope you know how grateful I am that you came into my life. I promised to protect you from everything, and I couldn’t, and I’m so sorry for promising you something I couldn’t keep. My heart will always belong to you, and I’m so sorry that we couldn’t do all of the things that we had planned to do. I love you so much, and I will until my heart stops beating, I just wish we had more time. You’re my world, and I love you (Y/N).” He took another deep breath and looked at the doctor through the window, giving him a nod that signified he was ready to let you go. He saw everybody looking through the window, their cheeks all wet as they watched Jaemin say goodbye to the love of his life. Jaemin couldn’t help but feel envious as he watched Jeno’s girlfriend and Renjun’s girlfriend snuggled into their chests for comfort, soft sobs falling from them as they mourned the loss of their friend. Haechan looked like a broken man. Jaemin knew that you and Haechan got along really well, and you had even spent some time with him after he went through some struggles with his girlfriend.

They all had to stay outside and watch through the window, as only family could enter the room. Your parents came into the room, but Jaemin’s grandma stayed with Haechan and held his hand. Jaemin gently placed a kiss to the back of your hand, watching as Doctor Park got prepared, gently pulling the medical tape off of your face that was helping to keep the ventilator in your mouth. Your parents cried in each other’s as Doctor Park very slowly and gently removed your breathing tube. Jaemin leaned down, leaning his forehead against your own once more as your chest stopped rising and falling, one long breath leaving your lungs as you stopped breathing. The heart monitor sped up, until it flatlined, quickly being switched off by Doctor Park to avoid anymore emotional distress for anyone. Jaemin sobbed silently, stroking your hair with his fingers on his bad arm and holding your hand tightly with his good one, as whispered to you one last time.

“I love you.”

---

Time was starting to go by as a blur for Jaemin. It had been two weeks, but today was the day you were finally laid to rest. It had been hard for him to hear everyone keep telling him that they were sorry for his loss, and he couldn’t remember much of what happened, his brain so foggy and disorientated that Jaemin didn’t even know what day of the week it was. He hadn’t bothered changing out of his suit, the same one that he’d worn to his mother’s funeral on the day that you’d met because he didn’t have it in him to go out and buy a new one. He couldn’t even imagine telling a shop assistant that he was looking for a suit because he was burying his wife. Besides, you’d always made little comments to him about how handsome he looked in that suit, and even though you were gone, he still wanted to please you. Your pillow still smelt like you, and Jaemin held it tightly in his grip as he laid on his bed, no more tears left inside of his eyes to cry, since they’d all been poured out before and during your funeral. The door opening made him look up, and he gave Jeno a hardly there smile.

“I brought you some toast, you need to eat.” He set the plate down on the bedside table and gently sat on the edge of the bed beside Jaemin. He bit his bottom lip for a moment before sighing and finally speaking his mind. “I’m so worried about you, you’ve tried to kill yourself over things a lot smaller than this, and every time I step into your room I’m scared I’ll see you hanging from the curtain poll, or in a pool of your own vomit from overdosing…Jaemin I need to know that you’re going to be okay.” Jaemin gulped and sat up, gently setting your pillow down in your empty spot and letting out a sigh as he looked at his best friend.

“Jeno, I have never in my life been more determined to live than I am right now.” A big smile broke out on Jaemin’s face, despite the tears he didn’t think he had spilling over his waterline. “Life is so precious, and (Y/N) had hers ripped away from her so fast before she even got to properly live. How could I ever take my own life away now?” Jeno felt a wash of relief rush over him, and he took Jaemin’s hand into his own, squeezing it tightly. “I don’t just live for myself now, I live for her. She’s a part of me now, and as long as my heart is still beating, her love for me is still alive.” He took a deep breath and then smiled as he looked at the picture of the two of you on his bedside table. “Her ending came too fast, but it wasn’t our ending, because our love lives on. And this will definitely will not be my ending.”

---

 Okay, so this is the end of the main stories for Differences! How are we feeling? I’m so sorry by the way, I have never cried so much writing as what I did for this piece. I hope you guys enjoyed this series, but don’t worry, it’s not the end end! I still have epilogues to write for each of the boys and short stories for them. Character Asks on @jenonctcity-character-asks​ are open! Thank you so much for reading, I love you.

#nct #nct dream #nct series #nct dream series #na jaemin #na jaemin fluff #na jaemin angst #na jaemin smut #nct angst #nct dream angst #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct blurbs #nct dream blurbs #nct timestamps #nct dream timestamps #lee jeno #lee donghyuck #lee haechan #huang renjun #differences #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #jaemin x reader

[normal-thoughts-official]

Conversations You Can Have While Your Partner Ties You Up

Tom and Andy try shibari without supervision for the first time, and Andy is nervous.

Tom uses his best soothing technique: running his mouth.

Fandom: It Lives (Visual Novels)

Relationship: Andy Kang/Tom Sato

Additional Tags: Humor, Crack, Fluff and Crack, not smut!, not that there's anything wrong with that i just want to be clear, so no one's disappointed lmao, it's just the two of them bantering while andy ties him up, Tom Sato Has Strong Feelings About Yogi, Established Relationship, BDSM, Good BDSM Etiquette, because apparently bad bdsm etiquette is a tag and fuck that noise, dom andy kang, sub tom sato, altho again we don't really get into that but idk best to tag, way too many puns, they are very in love and it's disgusting, i am on my bullshit again, Almost No Beta We Die Like Uhh Bigender People

Read it on Ao3

It's the first time they're trying out shibari without an instructor supervising, and Andy is nervous. Tom can tell that Andy is nervous because his eyes keep darting to the safety shears way too frequently, and also because he whispered "God, I'm nervous" to himself several times while he was setting the gear.

Tom prides himself greatly in his Andy-reading skills.

Andy barely breathed while he was setting up the sleeve, making sure every single strand of rope was several inches away from the smallest articulation, checking and rechecking that he could put two fingers under the rope, and asking whether or not it was too tight every five seconds. All while holding his breath. Tom was scared he'd pass out from oxygen deprivation or something.

Getting to the harness part was a little better. For about ten seconds. The knots there are mostly decorative, but wouldn't you know, turns out Andy's perfectionist streak decided to kick in right then.

He's redoing the same knot for the third time when he starts to mumble. "Ancient Japanese art of being a pain in my ass..."

Ah yes, Tom thought to himself, grinning. A prime opportunity. "I thought it was you who was supposed to be the pain in my ass," he says.

Andy groans.

"Oh, come on, it was right there!"

"I realized my mistake as soon as it left my mouth"

"Me when you suddenly stop fucking my face."

Andy snickers, and Tom considers it a win. "Shut up," he says.

"Yes, dud- Sir."

"Were you about to make a BDSM joke and call me dude?"

"No. Yes. Maybe. Shut up!" Tom laughs, "In my defense, the horny and clown signals have been getting a little mixed up the last, like, five seconds."

"Why did that make me imagine you in a sexy clown outfit?"

"I'm just gonna go ahead and veto that idea right now."

"What, you don't want to explore clown kink?" Andy puts on his best Dom voice, "Honk for me, slut." He starts giggling.

"Andy, I swear to god, my dick's gonna go soft."

"Don't you dare!" Andy yelps, "I've been training for months to be able to tie you up like this and I will fuck you in Shibari, god damn it!"

"Yeah, no, nevermind, you're really hot when you're determined."

Andy smiles, "Oh, stop. Is that too tight?"

Tom tries to give him a thumbs up, then remembers that he can't and shakes his head instead. "No, it's good."

Andy nods in acknowledgement, then grins at Tom again. "Cool, so… Back to sexy clowns?"

"No clowns are sexy. They're terrifying."

"You willingly went into a haunted town."

"Yeah, and you know how many clowns there were there? Zero."

"So that's the criteria for our sexy costumes? Is, like, sexy zombie bear still on the table then?"

"I'm gonna ask you to take a moment to consider the words that are coming out of your mouth."

"I've never done that in my life and I'm not going to start now." Andy says, casually, then frowns. "Can you help me with this one?"

"Heh," Tom smiles, "sorry dude, my hands are tied."

Andy groans. "Will you stop making puns, you ass?"

"Heh, ass-"

Andy ignores him. "I meant, lift your hip a little bit."

"Aye aye, captain."

"This is virtually the same as 'yes, Sir', yet so different."

"Ooh, do I smell pirate roleplay?"

"You know what? We could get those old hats we used when we were kids-"

"Do you know where to get a sword? I very much want swords."

"Ooh, knife play but long."

"I need to make a swordplay pun right now."

Andy gives a little laugh. "Do you?"

"I'm just not inspired enough. Guess I gotta get better with my wordplay..."

This time, Andy full-on laughs. He needs to stop focusing on his knots for a second. Tom's grin is way too proud.

Andy bites his lip. "Come on, this is gonna take forever at this rate. Help me out for a sec."

"Sorry, my hands are-"

"Okay, if you make that pun one more time, I'm not letting you cum at all tonight."

"You promise?"

"Ugh. Punishing you is so hard. Let me rephrase that. If you make that pun one more time, I am letting you come tonight, just once, and then calling it a day, like this is vanilla sex or something."

Tom gasps. "Evil."

"Or maybe I'll make you say that Yogi is not that bad."

"You'll never take me alive."

Andy gestures to Tom's immobilized body, smiling. "Pretty sure I already have you."

"Oh no, I had the instinct to say something incredibly sappy and disgusting."

"Were you going to answer 'always'?"

"I will neither confirm nor deny."

"Well, that's a shame. 'Cause if that had been the case, I'd have said, 'same'."

Tom pretends to swoon as best as he can, considering he's almost completely immobilized. It mostly consists of tilting his head. "And they say romance is dead."

"You gave me finger guns when I first said 'I love you'."

"And you think I should be the standard?"

"Well, who else is it gonna be? Me? When you first said 'I love you', I said 'sweet'."

Tom smiles, softly. "It was pretty sweet, if you ask me."

Andy bites the inside of his cheek. "Shut up. I'm almost done, by the way."

"Nice."

"Not thanks to you."

"Okay, look, I know I'm not supposed to say that my hands are tied anymore, but in this case it's just, like, literally true."

"Doesn't mean you have to keep distracting me."

"Ooh, I'm distracting?" Tom wiggles his eyebrows, lifting his hips up a bit.

Andy laughs. "You know that, in this case, you're getting in the way of us having sex, right?"

"I don't know, man. I'm tied up, my dick is hard, you're touching me, you're smiling, that's a win in my book."

"You're only partially tied up, which is exactly my point."

Tom makes his best impression of Akon in I Just Had Sex, "Still counts!"

Andy snorts, but tries to compose himself. "So, what, once I'm done with this I can just leave you tied up and call it a day?"

"I mean, that'd be hot, yeah."

"Ugh, you're impossible."

"You love me."

"Don't change the subject."

Tom grins. "So you admit that you love me."

"I'm your boyfriend of three years."

"Don't change the subject."

It's Andy's turn to grin. "Of course I love you, you dork. Now shut up so I can finish tying you up."

"Aww, I love you too."

"Thanks, man."

"I'm sorry, did you just say 'thanks, man'?"

"Well, my hands are busy, so I can't finger gun."

"Will you let it go?"

"Very funny thing to say while I'm tying knots around your dick."

"Ah, you're right. In that case, tie me up harder."

"How am I supposed to tie you up harder?"

"I don't know, I just think it sounds sexier when you add a 'harder' at the end."

"Like, 'honk harder, clown'?"

"Now you're just trying to upset me."

Andy smiles at him, slyly. "Maybe I think you need a little punishment."

Tom grins in a way that makes Andy regret everything he's ever said. "Aww yeah, baby, I better start singing La La La, 'cuz I've been a Naughty Boy."

Andy can't help it. He bursts out laughing. "You dork!" He wheezes, face falling on top of Tom's shoulder as he laughs. Tom grins.

"See, that's the Andy I know and love, laughing at every stupid shit I say."

Andy giggles for a few more seconds, holding onto Tom's shoulders, before shaking his head to try and focus. He still lets out a little laugh every once in a while, though. "I swear, it's like you don't want me to fuck you in shibari," he grumbles.

Tom looks appalled. "This is slander."

"Then, like, get into ropespace and stop talking or something."

"I can't get into ropespace when I know you aren't, either," Tom grumbles.

Andy freezes. "What?"

Tom bites the inside of his lip, turning in the other direction. "You were nervous," he says. Then he nods in the direction of Andy's hands, "you've been a lot calmer since we started talking. You're almost done."

Andy looks down, actually realizing that Tom's torso is almost entirely decorated with knots at this point. "Oh. You're right."

Tom grins again. "So, see, by distracting you with my dumb shit, I actually helped us finish this quicker. And they say running your mouth isn't a talent."

Andy smiles. Lets the rope go. Throws his arms around Tom's neck and gives him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, love," he says, peppering kisses in his face. Tom laughs.

"You're welcome. Now finish tying me up so we can get this show on the road," he says, way too innocently. Andy grins, and pulls his hair.

"You're in no position to make demands, slut."

Tom's eyes flutter in bliss. He smiles again. "Yes, Sir."

#it lives #it lives in the woods #ilitw #tom sato #andy kang #tom x andy #andy x tom #tomdy #literally when will i stop #crack

[aerynwrites]

A Twist of Fate

Javier Peña x Reader Soulmate AU!

Author’s Note: Okay y’all, not sure how i feel about this one lol, I’m kinda on the fence about it? But I kinda like it? Idk, you guys let me know what you think! ALSO! I highly recommend listening to - Oh, What a World by Kacey Musgraves in the last half of the fic, bc it was kinda the inspiration behind this idea.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Angst, cursing, blood, minor injury, fluff.

/////

Living in a world where soulmates are determined from the day you turn fifteen sounds like something out of a science fiction book. Yet, here you were, living it every goddamn day. Most people love it, they love the idea that there is someone out there for them. Someone that is meant for them and only them until the day they leave this earth.

Not you.

You woke up on the morning of your fifteenth birthday, a Friday if you remember correctly, and you were beyond excited to see the words appear on your wrist. The words that your soulmate would say to you the moment you met. However, as you bolted upright in bed and pulled your sleeve up your arm, you felt your heart drop when there were no words on your wrist at all. You had run, panic written all over your face, to your mother who just smiled and said that sometimes it takes a few hours to appear. Afterall, hers didn’t show up until the afternoon of her special day. Your excitement came rushing back as you continued to get ready for school, but as the day came to a close…the words were still no where to be found.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, and the nights after when words still failed to appear on your wrist. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and you finally gave up on the idea of ever seeing the fateful words on your wrist. Your friends tried to console you, your parents took you to multiple specialists, but no one could tell you why the words never appeared.

Why you didn’t have a soulmate.

Eventually you grew out of the childish hope of having a soulmate, you could find happiness elsewhere, you were sure. You threw yourself into your schoolwork, excelled in it and eventually, after college, you landed a job in the DEA. You worked there for several years, quickly becoming a senior agent and creating a name for yourself. A name that your superiors caught onto and the reason you were transferred to Colombia to help the other DEA agents take down Escobar.

That’s how you ended up here, sitting across from Steve Murphy while Javier Peña was discussing the reports of the latest take down to the ambassador. Your eyes kept glancing up at the clock, counting down the seconds until you could go home. You returned your eyes back to your paperwork and bounced your leg impatiently before casting another look at the clock a few feet away.

“What has you so worked up?” Steve huffs, taking his eyes from his desk to look at you instead.

You just shrug, not really wanting to talk about it, “Nothing. Just ready to go home is all,” you say lamely, tapping your pen against the desk absentmindedly.

Steve rolls his eyes before a shit eating grin works his way onto his face and he leans back in his chair, “Oh…” he sighs, “I bet I know what it is.”

You sit up straighter and cross your arms, “I highly doubt that Steve,” you retort, trying to get him to back off.

He just chuckles, “Oh yeah I do. I bet you and Michael have some plans, am I right?” he asks smugly.

At the mention of the man’s name, your heart drops into your stomach and a frown tugs at the corner of your lips. He was the last thing you wanted to talk about.

“No Steve, we don’t have plans,” you bite, looking away from him.

At that very moment the one man you really didn’t want to have this conversation with came waltzing back through the door, glancing between you and Steve, “Who doesn’t have plans?” Javier asks, innocently.

You wave your hand in the air, trying to dismiss the conversation, “It’s nothing Javi, Steve is just-“

“just trying to figure out why miss (y/n) over here is so anxious to leave the office,” he says teasingly, “I think it’s because she has plans with Michael – if you catch my meaning,” he says suggestively, elbowing Javier.

You see Javier clench his jaw at Steve’s words, an action that doesn’t surprise you since he never seemed to like the guy you were dating anyways, but you don’t dwell on it too long before you’re leaning across your desk and smacking Steve’s hands with a nearby folder.

“I don’t have any plans with Michael!” you say defiantly, “Now will you just fucking drop. It.” You spit out the words, irritated that your friend won’t just leave you alone.

Steve just laughs, “Oh come on (y/n), I’m just having a little fun! You’ve been together for a while, now right? I’m surprised he hasn’t dropped the question yet. Guy’s crazy about you from what I hear from the other agents,” he says casually.

You feel tears sting the back of your eyes at the mention of something that could never be, and you have to choke out a response, “Yeah, well-“ you cough, trying to hide the tears in your voice, “he dumped me last night. So, I doubt he’ll be asking ‘the question’ anytime soon,” you say bitterly, slumping back into your seat.

Javier and Steve’s eyes go wide at the news and surprisingly Javier was the one to speak up first, “he dumped you? Just like that?” he asks, bewilderment and, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say you heard a slight tinge of hope in his voice.

You don’t look at either of them, afraid that if you do, you’d burst into tears right that moment, “Yeah…” you whisper, “just like that.”

“What in the hell-“ Steve begins, but you shake your head.

“I really don’t want to talk about it guys, can we just drop it? Please?” you beg.

Steve shakes his head, apparently not hearing your plea, “That asshole…I swear to god if I see his ass I will-“

“Steve please!” you call, “He had every reason to do it.”

Javier jumps in at this point, “What possible reason could he have for just dumping you out of nowhere?”

You shake you head, eyes glancing up to the clock and realizing it was time to go, you quickly stood from your chair, desperate to avoid telling them the one thing you hated about yourself, “I’ve got to go guys” you whisper, trying to gather your things as they continue to badger you with questions within the small space of your shared office.

“did he cheat on you?” “did he get another job?”

“I just can’t believe-“

Just as you retrieved your gun from your desk drawer you slammed it shut, silencing both men as you blurted out the only thing running through your mind the entire day, “He left me because he found his soulmate! Okay?” you cry, barley holding back the tears threating to spill, “He left me for her, even thought he has no goddamn idea who she is. There! Are you happy now?” You bark out the words before turning on your heel and leaving the office, ignoring the calls of apology from your partners.

------

When you finally got back to your apartment, you dumped your stuff by the door and went immediately to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of the strongest alcohol you had. Once you poured the dark amber liquid into the glass your eyes fell to the bottle and realized that it was a gift that Michael had given you for your anniversary. As you stared at the bottle, you felt all the emotions and tears you had been holding back all day finally spill over. It felt like your heart was being torn into a million pieces – not really over Michael leaving you – but at the thought that you would probably be truly and utterly alone for the rest of your life.

You hated this. You hated the stupid tattoos on everyone’s wrists. You hated Michael. You hated his soulmate. You hated the world. At the last thought a harsh sob pulled itself from your throat just as you let out an anguished cry and threw the glass in your hand across the room, watching as it hit the opposite wall with a satisfying crash, the untouched liquid spraying across the wall and floor.

In your emotional and irrational state, the small act gave you some sense of control – a sense  of satisfaction. So, without even thinking, you took the bottle in your hand next and threw it against the ground, watching as it hit the ground with a loud shatter before going silent once more. And as quickly as the satisfaction came, it seemed to leave all at once, and your tears returned full force as you leaned against the fridge and slid to the ground. You were so caught up in you thoughts that you didn’t even hear the rapid knocking on your door or the sound of it opening and footsteps rapidly approaching you until a familiar figure hovered in front of you.

“(y/n)? Jesus Christ – “ Javier’s voice spoke as he looked around you, “What the hell happened?” he asked.

You didn’t respond, you just looked blankly at the man in front of you as he grabbed your hands in his gently, moving to help you up, but he paused when his hands met yours, “Shit – you’re bleeding,” he said, tone serious yet concerned.

His words finally got your attention and you looked down to where his hands cradled yours and sure enough, the palms of your hands had a few cuts on them. Most likely from the glass scattered around you.

Javier let out a small sigh as he took in your shattered state, and he felt his heart constrict at the thought of what you must be going through. He turned away from you momentarily to retrieve the first aid kit he knew you kept under the sink. Once he had that, he tucked it under his arm before picking you up bridal style and walking you into your living room, sitting you down on the couch and taking your hands in his own once more. He started to tend to your wounds in silence, meticulously disinfecting them and wrapping a bandage around them. Neither of you said anything for a while, until he finally broke the silence.

“You’ll find them eventually you know,” he said quietly, pushing past the lump in his throat as he did.

You looked at him, a confused look on your face, “What?”

Javier sighed, “Your soulmate – you’ll find them eventually,” even if I don’t want you too.

He had to bite his tongue before the last words slipped out. He had been harboring feelings for you since the moment you walked into the embassy. He had even planned to ask you out to dinner a few weeks after you had arrived, but when you came in gushing about Michael – it crushed any hope he had of being with you. Honestly, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he felt a little spark of hope shoot through him when you told him you and Michael had broken up. But now, as he looks at the toll it has taken on you, all he felt was guilt. So, when you let out a humorless laugh, it was his turn to be confused.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

You shook your head, another tear slipping down your cheek, and he had to restrain himself from wiping it away as you spoke, “I don’t have a soulmate Javi,” you whimpered.

He felt his eyes widen at your admission, “you what?” he asks incredulously.

This time you hold your arms out to him, palms up to show him your bare wrists. Javier looked at them in a mixture disbelief and utter elation, thumbs rubbing your wrists lightly and you sigh a little at the contact. Deep down, you had always harbored feeling for your partner, it felt like an instant connection the moment you met, but the minute you found out about his habits, you dismissed the feelings, refusing to sign up for the hurt that was sure to come from a relationship with Javier. You realized after a moment in thought that you had never said anything after Javi, his thumbs still rubbing soothingly over your wrists, waiting patiently for you to respond.

You took in a shaky breath, “The words never appeared when I turned fifteen…or the years after,” you said lowly, “We went to so many specialist, talked to different people, scoured the library and newspapers for something – anything that would explain what was happening but-“ your voice cracked, and you shrugged your shoulders, “nothing. We couldn’t even find another case of this happening to someone,” a new wave of tears poured from your eyes as sobs wracked your body, “I’m going to be alone forever Javi-“ you cry, leaning forward as he pulls you into a tight embrace, “and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it,” you finally whisper.

Javi didn’t say anything at first, weighing his words as he held your shaking form in his arms. You both stayed like that until your sobs turned into small hiccups instead, and Javi finally decided to speak up.

“That’s not true,” he said quietly, hands rubbing up and down your back slowly.

You pulled away from him slightly, wiping at your nose as you sniffled, “What?”

Javier turned his gaze to the floor, uneasiness filling his mind as he struggled to utter the words he had been wanting to tell you for years now, “You don’t have to be alone – you’re not alone (y/n).”

You looked at him confused, unsure of what to say, so Javi took this as his cue to continue. He quickly pulled up the sleeve of his jacket and took his watch off, the one you always assumed covered his soulmate tattoo, only to reveal a blank expanse of skin – exactly like yours. You let out a small gasp and your eyes immediately snap to meet his own.

“You don’t – there’s no-“ your mind is running a million miles a minute at the realization that you are, in fact, not alone in the world.

Javier just sends you a small smile, “I never got my words either,” he admits, “So I just gave up all together, used it as an excuse to throw myself into my work and sleep around. But that was only until-“ he stopped in his tracks, weary of if he should continue down this path, and possibly ruin the partnership and friendship you both had.

You looked at the man crouched in front of you expectantly, hoping, praying he would say the words you had been thinking all these years. Even when you were with Michael.

His adam’s apple bobbed as he struggled to swallow and finally spoke, “Until I met you,” he said softly.

As soon as the words left his mouth, you slid from the couch to kneel in front of him and brought your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him into a hesitant but passionate kiss. Javier was uncertain at first, wary that you were just upset – emotional from the breakup. But as soon as your lips met, as cliché as it sounded, it was like sparks flew. A fire ignited within Javier, something he had never felt with anyone he had been with before. And he eagerly retuned the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you up, so you were straddling him. Unfortunately, it felt as soon as you had kissed him you were pulling away, panting slightly and eyes wide as you looked down at him.

“Woah,” you both said in unison.

You let out a huff of laughter and leaned your forehead against Javier’s taking in a deep breath, relishing in the feeling if his arms around you. Your breaths mingled together as you continued to sit together, minds racing, trying to understand what you were feeling. As contradictory as it sounded, the thought that keeps crossing your mind is that you and Javi were meant for each other.

In some weird twist of fate, by neither of you having a soulmate – maybe you were soulmates. You closed your eyes as tears of relief and happiness gathered in your eyes and you finally spoke up, “I never thought that I would-“ your voice catches in your throat and Javi pulls away from you slightly, a hand cupping your cheek gently, thumb brushing away a tray tear.

“I didn’t either,” he admits quietly, a small smile adorning his face, “and then there was you.”

You let out a quiet laugh and kiss him quickly before nuzzling your face into his neck, “and then there was you,” you repeat, a contented sigh escaping your lips as you and Javi stayed in each other’s arms.

////

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#Javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader #javier peña #pedro pascal #narcos x reader #narcos #steve murphy

[orwocolor]

Love Thy Neighbour - Chapter Seven

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cursing

Summary: Gwilym shows up in your bookstore to apologise but there still might be more obstacles on your way to happiness.

Author’s Note: And another sprinkle of angst so that chapter six doesn’t feel so lonely. Only one more chapter and an epilogue remain, so keep an eye out for those! Comments and reblogs are always very appreciated :) Check my masterlist to read the previous chapters. Dedicated to my sweetie @justgwilym​.

Dragging your feet, you crash on your sofa, a floral pattern of one of the walls spinning around you. You squeeze your eyes shut, but as you lose the point of focus, you sense a rise of, so far, the most powerful wave of nausea. You fight the feeling and instead fix your gaze on one of the paintings decorating the living room.

Breathe in.

And breathe out.

You should not have drunk that much. But Jane and Charlotte were unstoppable and admittedly, you needed it. After a couple of drinks, you actually started having fun. Daniel turned out to be a very pleasant companion with a taste for slightly dry humour that, partially due to your inebriated state, made you burst in laughter multiple times during the party.

Oh god, you are going to hate yourself so much tomorrow.

Once it seems the whole world will not tilt again and toss you on your side, you brave a few steps into the kitchen and pour yourself a glass of water. Gulping it down, you can already feel its beneficial effects, which are further enhanced when you press the cold glass against your forehead. You serve yourself another drink and with each sip, you begin to trust your legs again.

You release a content sigh as a soft breeze and smell of rain touch your cheeks when you open the windows; it truly does a world of good. Grabbing yourself two slices of toast bread, you settle onto the sofa, open your laptop and click on a random video for you to watch while you wait to get better before you go to bed. If you lay down right now, you’re sure you would throw up.

With an occasional chuckle leaving your lips as you listen rather than watch a stand-up show, you almost miss a soft, hesitant knock on your door. Almost. Your fingers hover above the keyboard as you contemplate pausing the video. If you press the space key right now, there will be no doubt you’ve heard the knocking.

Slowly retracting your hand back to your side, you let the comedian continue in her sketch and you just wait. It probably takes only a minute, but for you, it’s an eternity before you can hear Gwil shut the door to his flat behind him.

You release a breath you have not realised you were holding and hide your face in your palms.

You are not in a state to face him right now. You need some time. And most importantly, you need to put some space between you, otherwise you’re going to care way too much, and you are not in the position of allowing yourself feelings of that sort.

~

“I’m sorry, sir, I’ll be back in a minute, just let me attend to this young lady,” you throw behind your shoulder as you rush to the cash desk and leave a customer in the historical section.

“Maybe I can be of service,” Mr Dean appears next to the customer’s shoulder, who jumps a bit, not expecting someone else, and you send a grateful glance to your friend. You knew you could count on him. Whenever he’s in a good mood, he loves to entertain people in the bookshop and no matter the topic or genre they’re looking for, he turns into an expert, gladly offering recommendations.

You hide a smile when you notice Mr Dean’s eyes sparkling as the man mentions the French revolution and he starts guiding him to the needed section.

“Here you go,” you hand the young woman her bag and say your goodbyes, a shrilling sound of chimes hanging at the entrance door announcing her departure.

While you bend down and disappear behind the till to throw away the receipt the woman didn’t want, the chimes sound again, and you emerge from behind the cash desk.

No.

He’s there, right in front of you, the surprise written in his face matching yours.

“Hello,” Gwil says softly and for a split of a second, you forget to breathe.

You’ve managed to avoid him the whole weekend by some miracle, although, admittedly, on one occasion, when you were forced out of your flat to do grocery shopping, you spotted him at the entrance door when you made a turn to your street. At that moment, you remembered you wanted to check something on your phone, and after fiddling with it long enough for Gwil to get home, you plucked up the courage to do the same.

You assured yourself you just needed some time and space and by the time you would meet him, you would have known what to tell him.

Well, your past self can go screw herself because here you are with your tongue tied.

“Hi, Y/N!” Ben is on Gwil’s tail and greets you cheerfully, his hand raised in a wave.

“Hi,” you manage to blurt out, quite happy with yourself for not butchering the single syllable. It’s all about little victories, right?

“So, uh, I’ll go check some books I guess,” Ben breaks the silence when neither you nor Gwil seems to do so, and scurries farther into the store.

“I am so, so sorry, Y/N,” Gwil eventually breathes out and raises his lowered eyes. “I wish I could have a good reason for not showing up the other day and for copping out on you like that, but I just don’t. I…”

He looks around and bites his lips, looking for a way of how to finish his sentence in books-filled shelves.

You wait patiently because you have the feeling that there is something he needs to say, and it would be ill-advised to interrupt his thoughts.

“Okay, I’m probably already not in your good books, so why not make even a bigger twat of myself, eh.”

“Ha, in the good books. Get it? You’re in a bookshop,” you chuckle, your voice not as strong as you would like it to be.

“Yeah,” he replies, and the corners of his lips rise up slightly. Soon, his voice turns serious again. “Well, I went to that stupid audition and I just fucked it up. Yeah, there’s no better word for that. I fucked it up, big time. I tried to persuade them to give me another chance, I said I would do anything, and the production assistant surprised me. She promised me another audition if I went for a drink with her afterwards, and I… didn’t refuse.” He takes a deep, shaky breath, presumably the first one since he started explaining what had happened. “I wasn’t thinking, and when I realised I was supposed to be with you, it was too late.”

“You could have called me,” you say slowly, daring to meet his gaze.

“My phone was dead. I was fiddling with it so much while I was waiting for the audition. Was driving Ben absolutely crazy.”

“Can confirm!” Ben’s head peeps out from behind a shelf and quickly hides again when he spots both your and Gwil’s not so amused expressions.

“Still,” you start and shake away the trembling feeling that is creeping to your voice, “You could have come by later and explain all of that to me that night.”

By some miracle, it’s as if he senses the direction of your thoughts, and rushes to set the record straight, offering the absolution you haven’t, until now, realised you desperately craved.

“The moment it dawned on me what a jerk I was, I said my goodbyes and left. But it was too late, and I felt like such a prick, so I actually dropped in another pub and drank some more. Was so shit-faced I stayed at my brother’s ‘cause he lives in that area.”

A great weight is lifted from your shoulders and you can finally take a deep and long breath. You feel a smile tugging at the corners of your lips but Gwilym does not see it; he is avoiding your eyes, as mortification keeps surrounding his whole person.

“I am so, so sorry,” he repeats once again and the moment the words leave his lips, you forgive him.

Actually, you already have.

You are just about to tell him so when he finally finds the courage to look into your eyes as he reaches out and gently grasps your hands that have been resting on the counter.

“Please, can you forgive me?”

His thumbs are lightly stroking your skin and you cannot tear away your gaze from his beautiful blue eyes.

“Sir, I must ask you to leave right now!”

Wait, what?

It takes you a moment to become aware of where you are and what is happening. The bookshop, right. And as for what is going on…

“Sir, I won’t repeat myself, leave this building immediately!” Peter’s voice reaches such volume that every customer stops in their tracks, their curiosity taking the better of themselves.  

“I was only showing this young lad the historic section. I don’t reckon it’s a crime,” Mr Dean responds in his defence, which only infuriates Peter some more.

“You’re always just helping other customers, or browsing, or, God forbid, reading our books without paying a single penny for them. I want you gone. This is not a library!”

“Peter,” you say weakly, not capable of wrapping your head around it. He isn’t supposed to be here, otherwise you would have warned Mr Dean beforehand.

“Is that the Mr Dean you told me about?” Gwil whispers and it is only then when you notice your hands are still placed in his and his face is much closer to yours than you remember.

“Yes, I’m–” you start but Gwilym won’t let you finish the sentence.

“Trust me, darling. I’ll stop by at your place at around seven, okay?” he hastily says and places a soft kiss to your cheek before leaving you at the till dumbfounded.

“Grandpa!” he greets joyfully and rushes to Mr Dean to give him a proper hug. “Have you found the book you told me about?”

Mr Dean shoots a glance your way before he replies. “Ah, I… Yes. Yes, yes, I did, give me a second.” You’re taken aback by his quick reaction because you have not moved from your spot, your jaw down, and you are pretty sure your arms are still stretched in front of you although Gwilym’s warm palms are no longer holding them. You fix your posture in an instant and clear your throat, at least trying to give the impression of having everything under control.

Although you are not particularly proud of yourself, you’re still doing better than Peter. He is just standing there, opening his mouth like fish as no words are leaving his lips.

Gwilym pretends he has only just noticed him and raises his eyebrows in make-believe innocence. “Is there any problem here?”

It takes a couple of moments before Peter gathers his bearings.

“I’m sorry, but this is your grandfather?” he finally finds his voice and points an accusatory finger at your dear friend.

“Yeah! He’s been wearing my ear off about this wonderful book he discovered here, so I’m here to get it for him. For his birthday, you know? Which is coming soon, isn’t that right, grandpa?”

“In a couple of days, actually,” Mr Dean confirms and nods his head seriously as if contemplating the fleetingness of time and existence.

“Urgh, I’m the worst grandson ever, really, looking for gifts this late, I should be ashamed of myself.” You are fascinated by Gwil’s acting; he doesn’t miss a beat and comes up with lies so quickly, all you can do is stare in astonishment. It’s not like anyone needs you right now because all customers are watching the scene unfold.

“Ah, got it!” The victorious announcement of Mr Dean makes Gwil turn on his heel and leave Peter behind.

“Wow, that’s really pretty! You weren’t lying about the photographs.” Gwil expertly inspects the pictures of various relics and nods, approvement and appreciation readable from his pursed lips. “Excellent! We’ll take it.” He closes the book in one swift motion and heads to your cash desk.

By this time, you have composed yourself enough to remember all the common niceties, and you are quite proud of your performance as you easily scan the book that you’ve seen cradled in Mr Dean’s palms many afternoons and punch the price into the card reader so that Gwil can pay.

“Would you like it gift-wrapped?” you do not forget to ask and when your gaze meets Gwil, your heart starts beating so fast you almost can’t hear the answer.

“Oh yes, please, that is if we’re not bothering you.” Gwil’s smile lights up his whole face.

“No bother at all,” the corners of your lips rise in a matching smile and you procced to neatly wrap the book in a piece of brown paper, taking extra care to tie a dark blue ribbon around the package.

“Thank you so much, have a lovely day!” Gwilym places the book under his arm and leaves the shop, Mr Dean on his tail offers a wave and a wink that, hopefully, Peter cannot see.

Through the display window, you almost miss Gwil turning around and mouthing ‘see you tonight’ before he and Mr Dean disappear behind the corner. You almost burst into laughter when Ben suddenly emerges from behind the bookshelves and dashes after them.

You have got the feeling that Peter is mumbling something, but all you can think about is your lovely neighbour and the kiss he ever so gently placed on your cheek.

You resist the temptation to touch your face, wondering whether the imprint of Gwil’s lips can be found there, or whether the gesture is forever inscribed into your mind only.

But then, you finally register Peter’s words...

“I can’t believe it! And of all days he’s got to pick today and embarrass me in front of the buyers. God damn it!”

… and your smile freezes.

~

Buyers.

The sequence of syllables still sounds foreign and dangerous to your ears.

Buyers.

No matter how many times it rolls off your tongue, the word remains the same.

So that’s it. Peter’s made up his mind and he is going to sell the bookshop. And that leaves so many questions unanswered. The new owners, are they going to keep the staff, or do they plan to hire a new bunch of people? Is there even some certainty that they will not rebrand and establish a branch of a fast-food chain? It’s not like the city is flooded with them, right.

You feel the dizziness creeping up your neck as those thoughts swirl in your head, not permitting you a moment of peace. You almost crash into a passer-by, but thankfully you manage to keep yourself upright and the take-out bag with your late lunch intact in your hold.

Once you finally arrive home, you heat up the food you have brought with you and open your favourite book in a desperate attempt to diverge the direction of your thoughts.

You are torn between biting your nails from the uncertainty of your future career and halting in the story and daydreaming about Gwilym’s visit tonight. And with that mindset, you go about your day while you clean up, water plants, and dust your flat; you have been putting it off for ages.

Emerged in thoughts, you almost mishear the buzzing sound of the bell. You are wearing baggy trousers and an old t-shirt with stains God-knows from what. You have reckoned you’ve still got time to change before Gwil’s visit. Oh well, he has seen you at your worse.

However, your brows furrow as you step into the hall and catch a glimpse of the digital clock.

5.40 p.m.

Swinging the door open, you are met with no one. Another sound of the bell and the line on your forehead deepens.

“Hello,” you mutter when you press the intercom, and the static comes through.

“Y/N! Hi! Ready to go out and grab coffee with me?”

It takes a moment before the dots connect.

“Oh, Daniel, hi! I… erm… can you give me ten minutes?”

“Sure thing!”

The dash across your flat, from the door to the dresser, then to the bathroom and back to the hall could be considered a match to any Olympian’s winning sprint race, but it is too early after your accident and your ankle makes itself known. You grit your teeth and grab a purse, leaving your flat and hoping no appliances have stayed turned on.

How could you have forgotten?! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Hi!” you greet breathlessly when you fly from the entrance door, and Daniel gives you a lopsided smile.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” No matter how hard you try not to give anything away, the blush on your cheeks betrays you. “Oh my God, you did!” Barking out a laugh, he lets you take a couple of deep breaths before you start walking down the street. “Maybe it should be you who’s gonna buy the coffee today.”

“Gladly,” you smile and spot a cosy café. For a split second, you consider taking him to Hazel’s, but then you imagine the soft hues of brown and gold against black and white background of your most beloved café. Your mind goes straight to the day you bumped into Gwil and Ben in there and you do not wish to stain that memory. Besides, this café is right behind the corner of your block of flats, which means you shouldn’t get stuck at some far-off place. “Actually, I owe you ‘cos I’ve got some plans at seven and I need to get home by then.”

“Oh, okay,” he replies hesitantly, and you bite your lips, feeling like an arse. Well, you can make it up for him by paying for the coffee, right?

~

You are trying. You are really, truly trying. Daniel is nice. Funny, smart, and knows all the iconic movie lines off pat, however, the moment you look into his eyes, you feel nothing, there is no bated breath, no heart beating fast. Nothing. And honestly, it seems you are not making a particularly good impression either. He takes notice of your constant checking the time on your phone, and when you catch yourself doing it for an umpteenth time, you roll your eyes at yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter after a moment of silence, which you wish were a companionable one, but you are too fidgety.

“It’s fine, I get it,” Dan offers a sheepish smile, which you return. “Let’s get you back home, okay?”

The wind is chilling and light drizzle lands on your hair. As you walk down the street, you notice that Daniel is trying to gently hold your hand. It starts with your fingers brushing and you would dismiss it as an accidental touch but when his fingertips graze the back of your palm, you sense the intention in the gesture. You bring your hand up, brushing off a damp strand of hair and scratching the back of your neck so as not to give him another opportunity for touch.

Hoping this debacle is behind you now, you say your goodbyes and grab the door handle to your building. Oh, how foolish!

“I know you’re lost in thought today but it was a nice date and honestly, I’m not ready for it to end.” He gives you a smile and his eyes sparkle when you stop in your tracks and turn your head to face him.

His gaze drops down to your lips and you are (literally) taken aback by the movement to such extent that your body shoots away. In the process, you press your back to the doorbell panel and jump a bit, not expecting that kind of contact.

“Careful.” Daniel’s fingers find your waist to keep you upright. “I realise I might not be the man of your dreams, but I hope we can go for dinner next time.”

“I…” you start, unable to find the words that would not hurt him.

“No, don’t say anything,” he whispers, and it is only then when you realise his face has inched closer to yours. And then he presses his lips to yours, and you freeze at the spot.

Your eyelids do not tremble with emotion, neither do you melt into his touch. You just stand there, barely moving your lips and thinking that this guy just cannot take a hint. You might have been waving the ‘I am not interested’ flag right in front of his face and he still would be none the wiser.

When he finally lets go, your gaze is still fixed forward and you suck in your lips in a subconscious effort to prevent him from another attempt of a kiss. However, you catch a flicker of light in the corner of your eyes and without giving it a second thought you twist your neck, and your gaze falls into the entrance hall. The windowpane which reflected two figures kissing a moment ago turns transparent and reveals a figure standing inside.

He’s there, at the top of the staircase, taking you by surprise for a second time this day.

But this time, his eyes are hurt behind his glasses, a deep line is forming on his forehead, and it seems as if he’s rooted to the cold stone floor. Your heart is breaking at the sight of him and you know you must do anything within your power to atone for this moment because you never ever want to see such pain written in his face.

“Gwil,” you breathe out softly and bend down to escape Daniel’s embrace. Pushing the main door, you rush to your neighbour, your friend, your… “Gwil, this means nothing, I’m not –”

“My doorbell rang, and I was foolish enough to think you couldn’t wait until seven. I…” He is avoiding your gaze, his eyes roving round the hall. He brings his hands to his sides, but quickly finds out there are no pockets in his soft camel pleated trousers and so he clasps them together. When he bites his trembling lips, it is almost unbearable to keep your eyes on him, but you cannot look away either.

Then, his features harden, and it is probably worse than before as your stomach tightens.

“Goodbye.”

You almost miss the sound, his voice barely above a whisper. Tears threaten to fall down your cheeks, but Gwilym is already gone, his moccasins tapping against the cold tiles of the stairs. You fight the urge to wrap your arms around yourself and have a breakdown right here and now. All you do is simply turn around, every movement calculated so as not to make an unnecessary one. Daniel is still standing at the entrance, his eyebrows raised in the piqued curiosity of what has just occurred.

“I can’t go for another date with you. I’m sorry.”

But you don’t feel sorry at all, well, not sorry for him at least. Your thoughts have turned into a tangled ball of turmoil and indescribable emotions, which are hard to make sense of.

When you reach your floor, you stop in your tracks to your flat. You have thought you lost all the courage, but you muster some from deep inside and cross the hall to knock on his door with determination.

God knows how long you are standing there, you knock again, and again.

Nothing.

Not even a sign of hope.

Your heart skips a beat when you finally hear the creak of a door being open, but a lump forms in your throat instead when it dawns on you that it is not Gwil’s door but Mrs Thompson’s.

“Hello Mrs Thompson,” you greet meekly the slightly open door of the 3A flat and drag your feet to your home.

You do not bother taking off your shoes or clothes. Crushing straight into your bed, you finally give yourself the permission to let your emotions flow and cry yourself to sleep.

~

Taglist: @lv7867​, @spacedustmazzello​, @queenwouldyourathers​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @fairestkillerqueenofall​, @supernaturalee​, @queenlover05​, @geek-and-proud​, @chlobo6​, @mrsmazzello​, @timeandpixiedust​, @kerouacsroad​, @gwilsmainhoe​​

#gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee angst #gwilym lee fluff #gwilym lee fic #gwilym lee imagine #multichapter #fluff #angst #vee writes #*mine

[not-close-to-straight]

100% Professional (Final)

MASTERLIST

******************

A few weeks later 

"Hey hey, I'm not ready to say good night to you yet." Wade wound his arm around Peter's waist and tugged him closer. "Where are you going?" 

"I've still got a  piece to write for work tomorrow." Peter said reluctantly, and tossed his taco trash away. "And you've got that thing with Sam at like six am, don't you?" 

"I could definitely reschedule a fun run with Sam if you wanted to stay." Wade countered. "Especially since there's nothing fun about running at all. Whoever coined that phrase should be given a swift roundhouse kick to the face." 

"It's important that you keep appointments with people who are a positive influence in your life." Peter recited, clearly quoting the self help book Wade kept on the living room coffee table. "And I know I'm delightful? But Sam is a much better positive influence in your life." 

"Pete--" 

"Last night we ate Cheez Whiz until you coughed it out your nose." Peter pointed out. "And the day before that we watched six straight hours of reality TV because neither one of us could find the remote. Could have just turned the TV off, but nope. We watched six solid hours of reality dating." 

"Okay, yeah that was pretty bad." 

"We sucked helium and sang Christmas songs until we gave ourselves migraines." 

"Also bad." 

"Face it." Peter smoothed his hands down Wade's arms, lingering over the bulge of the former soldiers biceps. "We make the worst decisions together so you should definitely spend the morning with Sam, who consistently is encouraging you to get better and is always glad to see you at group." 

"I sort of hate that you're all supportive and encouraging me to better my self." Wade grumbled half heartedly. "You were much more fun when you were just rubbing me with oil and trying to catch a peek at my dick." 

"I resent the implication that I still don't try to look at your dick." Peter retorted and Wade only laughed. "Definitely fun run with Sam and then call me after wards. I'll work on your calves since I'm sure you're gonna be sore." 

"...really?" Wade hesitated. "You'd work on me?" 

"Why not?" If Peter noticed he was all but glommed onto Wade's chest, he didn't comment. If anything the pretty brunette only scooted closer, tangling their feet and hooking his fingers into Wade's belt. "If you're hurting, I'm gonna help you. I'm a trained professional, remember?" 

"I vaguely remember you being something like a massage therapist." Wade agreed. "Even though our marshmallow eating contest last week gave me a few doubts." 

"That's fair." Peter said immediately. "I wouldn't trust a professional who shouted chubby bunny with eleven marshmallows in their mouth either. That's perfectly valid. In fact, if you hadn't doubted my professional status after that I'd worry about you. And also--" 

"I fired my massage therapist last week." Wade interrupted, and Peter went very still. 

"What? Why?" 

"Because she's not you?" Wade asked slowly. "Is that an okay reason?" 

"It's not a real reason." Peter pointed out, but he didn't pull away. "Obviously she's not me, lots of people aren't me. But why would that matter? We pretty much decided that we could have a working relationship or a friendship but not both, right? So you got another therapist and we-- we are friends." 

"Is that what this is?" Wade took a chance and drew his fingers through Peter's hair, down to fit his palm to the back of Peter's neck and rub circles over his pulse. "Friendship?" 

"Well yeah." Peter shivered, leaning his head back into Wade's palm. "Right? Friendship. We hang out and we laugh and we do stupid things together when we're drunk. We've sort of moved on into holding hands and sure this hug is about eight minutes too long but--" 

"Can I kiss you?" 

"Please God, kiss me." Peter stood up on his toes and met Wade halfway, their mouths crashing together in the sort of kiss that was months and months and months over due, the sort of kiss that belonged in movies with dramatic storms and soaring musical scores, the kind that left two people gasping and melting, torn between undressing each other right there and maybe just wanting to linger in the innocence of this particular first. 

"Wade." Peter whispered when they finally parted. "Oh my god." 

"Yeah." Wade leaned back into dot a kiss to Peter's cheek, to brush his lips over the line of Peter's jaw. "Yeah, I know. It's about time, right?" 

"I think um--" Peter was blushing, biting at his lip and trying to inch closer so Wade would keep kissing him. "I think it was right about perfect timing for us, right? Seems like a long time coming, but we did it the right way?" 

"If you say so." Wade cleared his throat. "Kinda wish our first kiss wasn't in front of the taco stand though. Seems like I could have been more romantic than that."

Peter tried and failed to stifle a chuckle. "Tacos are super romantic, what are you talking about?" 

"Tacos are romantic, you're absolutely right." Wade dug in his pocket so he could actually pay the very patient taco guy. "We should eat and--" 

He shut up when Peter kissed him again. "Pete?" 

"I'm not ready to say goodnight to you." Peter said slowly, clearly. "But it's important that you do this run with Sam, and it's important that I get to work, so I'm going to go. You'll call me tomorrow so I can work on you when you're sore?" 

"I'll call you tomorrow." Wade nodded, leaning in to press their foreheads together. "For a purely professional massage. Definitely. Definitely will not try and grope my massage therapist." 

"You grope me and I'll charge you double." Peter threatened and Wade retorted, "What if it's just a little grope? I'll call it a tip." 

"I feel like your version of giving me a tip and my version of you giving me a tip are pretty different."  

"I dunno Pete, you've been horny for me forever. Pretty sure we're talking about the same tip." 

"Wade-" 

"SOMEONE TAKE YOUR CHANGE!" The taco guy shouted, obviously having overheard way more than he wanted, obviously fed up with Wade and Peter's weekly taco stop/flirty episode. 

"Keep the change." Wade waved the guy off. "Call it a tip. "

Peter choked on his food as he tried not to laugh and Wade stole just one more kiss. 

"I'll call you tomorrow?" 

"Please call me tomorrow." Peter's smile was hopeful, his eyes sparkling. "I can't wait." 

****************

****************

"How was the fun run?" Soleus. Peroneal Muscle Group. Gastrocnemius. Peter mentally recited the names of calf muscles as he worked at Wade's legs, desperately trying to distract himself from the fact that his friend-- boyfriend?-- was almost naked under the sheets. "Feel like a champ for finishing?" 

"I feel like hog tying Sam and beating him with a broom for making me do it." Wade grunted as Peter felt over a particularly tight spot. "He gave me this grand speech about how exercise is just as crucial to healing as therapy and mental exercises are, then he dragged my ass out there in the rain and forced me to watch him run in booty shorts. How is that healing?" 

"I feel like you probably didn't have to stare at him in booty shorts." Peter countered. Peroneal longus. Extensor digitorum longus. Achilles. "There had to be a thousand other places for you to look besides Sam's ass, right?" 

"The man's got a nice ass." Wade admitted and Peter grinned. "It was nice to finish, I guess. I've hit all these milestones in therapy but those are just check marks on paper. It felt good to check something off my list that not even healthy people do, you know? Most people will never run a marathon, and I did that today." 

"Yeah, I'm one of those people that will never run a marathon." Peter hesitated for a split second before sliding his hands up past Wade's knee to the back of his thigh. "I'd much rather watch from the sidelines and critique people's forms." 

"That seems hilariously judgmental of you." Wade tensed under Peter's fingers, then blew out a deep breath and forced himself to relax. This is a professional massage. "And you better start running because I signed us up for the city run this summer." 

"The one in July?" Semimembranosus muscle. Semitendinosus muscle. "That seems... I mean, that's like seven months out. Little far in advance to make plans, don't you think?" 

"It's not that far in advance." Wade hedged. "You uh-- you planning on going anywhere, Pete?" 

"I'm planning on being exactly here." Peter said softly, almost too softly, and to lighten the moment he added, "Charging you ridiculous amounts of money for hour long massages. I want to buy a car this summer, so this is as good a time as any to mention my rates doubled." 

"Doubled, huh?" Wade's laugh was pained as Peter dug his thumbs into a particularly bad knot. "Why do you need a car?" 

"I can’t take another month in Ye Olde Drug Makers Den, so I’m finally moving apartments." Biceps femoris muscle. "Unfortunately all the reasonably priced safer neighborhoods will require a sort of crazy commute and it'd be faster to have a car so I don't have to deal with the subway. Plus, Jameson is talking about having me travel, so I could write off the car as a business expense. It'd just be nice to have a choice in my transportation, I guess." 

"I got a car you can have." Wade forced out another one of those slow breaths when Peter moved even higher up his leg. "I couldn't drive after my injury but selling it always felt like I was admitting I was too fucked up to function. It's been sitting in storage for a couple years now." 

"Yeah? How much you wanna sell it for?" Peter paused again, reminded himself that he was definitely a professional and he could definitely handle seeing Wade mostly naked while kneading at his --gulp-- finely toned ass. They had kissed yesterday and it was fine, it wouldn't have any bearing on the massage today. It was fine. It was fine it was fine it was fine. 

Abductor magnus muscle. Gluteus maximus muscle. 

Holy shit, that thing was fine.

"How much do you want to sell the car for?" Peter tried so hard to sound casual just then, hoping the conversation would distract from-- from everything. 

"You can just have it." Wade shifted on the massage table, digging his fingers into the mat. "Doesn't um-- doesn't make sense for me to-- for me-- whew. Pete, uh maybe we should--" 

"You okay?" Peter paused, gave in to an entirely wicked impulse and spread his hands out over Wade's rear. "Is this-- this is weird right? After we kissed? It's weird for me to work on you. Should I stop?" 

"No, it feels good." Wade sounded positively strangled. "Feels good after my run and uh-- it's just nice that it's you but we can't-- I definitely can't roll over this time, ya feel me?" 

"Shit." Peter leaned over and rested his forehead between Wade's shoulder blades. "Wade, I promise I am actually a professional. I dunno what it is about you that makes it impossible to get through a session without skewing innuendo-ish--" Wade snorted a laugh and Peter smiled a little, leaving a feather soft kiss on Wade's back. "--but let me finish working on you and then maybe we can--"

"Come here." Faster than Peter was ready for, Wade rolled to his side and yanked Peter down for a kiss, crushing their mouths together and grabbing at Peter's side to keep him close. 

"Oh my god." Peter abandoned all pretenses of professional and shoved Wade onto his back, clambering up onto the table to straddle Wade's waist and to leave bruising kiss after wonderfully bruising kiss on the soldier's lips. "Wade, please." 

"Yeah baby boy, I've got you." Wade's hands were everywhere, dragging down Peter's back and grasping at his rear, digging into Peter's thighs and holding him still so Wade could grind up  into him. "I've got you, I've got you, I've got you." 

Peter's shirt probably tore as it was yanked off and tossed aside but nobody cared, and Peter cried when Wade surged up to seal his lips over a pink nipple, blunt teeth on sensitive skin making him nearly scream.  He got sweet sweet sweet revenge by worrying a bruise onto the curve of Wade's neck, not letting up until Wade was panting and swearing and tearing at his pants.

When Wade groaned in frustration over Peter's skinny jeans, the brunette laughed breathlessly and tried to climb off the table, promising, "Two seconds. Let me get these off and I'll be right back, two seconds and then you can have me." 

But alas, the massage table was not meant to hold the combined weight of two grown men, much less too grown men rocking the table back and forth and trying to get nekkid and just as Peter was climbing off to get rid of his jeans--

--the table wobbled--

--and cracked--

--and all four legs shattered--

--and an oiled up and mostly naked Wade dropped right onto the floor, toppling a half in-half out of jeans screeching Peter on top of him. 

Peter and Wade stared at each other, at the mess, at the broken table and the splotch of lotion all over the expensive carpet, and just when Peter was gearing up to apologize, Wade collapsed into laughter, full blown side splitting guffaws and after a stunned few seconds, Peter joined him. 

It felt good to laugh, good to release all the pent up sexual tension with some giggles, good to put a halt to the out of control moment with some hilarity. 

Wade was still wiping tears from his eyes a few moments later as he managed, "Alright, so all those smutty videos where the massage therapist gives a client a royal dicking down on the table? False, eh?" 

Peter wheezed for breath, inching across the ruined table to curl into Wade's side, holding onto him as he shook through a few more laughs. "That was terrible, oh my god. I didn't think it would actually break." 

"It's alright anyway." Wade hooked an arm around Peter's shoulders and pulled him tight, dropping a quick kiss onto his forehead. "Means we actually have to do this first time right instead of mid massage and in my living room, huh?" 

"I dunno." Peter kissed Wade back, wrinkling his nose teasingly. "We did everything else about this funky, might as well have funky first time sex too." 

"Funky first time sex." Wade deadpanned. "Be still my romantic heart. At least let me take you out to dinner, baby." 

"Tacos." Peter said promptly. "Go get tacos and I'll get this cleaned up and we can do funky first time sex properly." 

"Yeah alright." It took all of Wade's self control to peel away from Peter. Months and months they'd waited to get to this point and now they had to clean up broken massage table and try for dinner and-- 

"Why don't you move in with me?" he blurted before he could stop himself, and Peter's jaw dropped open. "You need a new place, I have a car you can drive and we're halfway in love so it's inevitable anyway. Move in with me." 

"...I think it's bold of you to invite me to move in before you know how I am in bed." Peter said slowly. "Um-- what if I'm terrible in the sack? Use teeth when there should be no teeth? What if I’m a total pillow princess and then you have to share your apartment and car with a highly unprofessional massage therapist who gives shitty blow jobs?" 

Wade tried to hide a smile. "You give shitty blow jobs, Pete?" 

"Well I mean--" Peter shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I guess you'll have to find out, right? No backsies though, whether you like the blowjobs or not, I'll be living here." 

"No backsies." Wade rubbed a hand over his bare scalp and nodded as if he wasn't ready to explode with excitement. "You wanna move in with me?" 

"I definitely do." Peter's eyes were shining. "But I'm about two seconds from jumping you again because I'm so happy, so go get tacos and get back so we can do this the right way." 

"I'll be right back." Wade promised, and ducked down the hallway to find his clothes. "Don't go anywhere, okay?" 

"I'll be right here." Peter kicked out of the last leg of his jeans so he was just in his shorts. "Right here. Hurry." 

Wade was dressed and out the door, nearly running for the elevator when Peter stuck his head out from the apartment and yelled, "And what do you mean, we're half in love? You better tell me you love me like a real man or the deal's off!" 

"No backsies!" Wade yelled back, grinning when he heard Peter laughing. "You're stuck with me now!"

***************

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[redfoxwritesstuff]

It should have been easy

Hi, remember me? I wrote a thing, a while back. It was for a private writing group’s challenge- we do mini writing challenges sometimes to encourage ourselves to grow and explore as writers without the stress of public consumption. Figured I’d share this one after giving it a final edit because I honestly liked it. The topic of the challenge was a fic involving superglue.

Warnings: Passing mention of the Pandemic and a few unimportant details from Stephen King’s The Stand- I happened to have been reading that book at the time of writing. 

Rating: PG13- some passive mentions 

It should have been easy…

Fixing the bloody overpriced Barbie toy seemed like an easy task. It was just a little piece of cheap plastic that broke off the arm of the pretty pink stethoscope. It shouldn’t have been this hard. It didn’t seem like it would be this hard. Why the bloody hell was it this hard?

“We’ll just get her a new one. She’s on a baby- doctor kick anyway and would love more Barbie babies and another Barbie doctor. She could have a whole damn nursery.” Cassie had said and he scoffed at her.

“I can fix it. Just a dab of superglue and it’ll be right as rain.” It seemed so bloody easy. It should have been so damned easy. Why wasn’t it so fucking easy?

“Shut up, you.” Tom grumbled at Cassie, curled up in the arm chair with a large worn book in her lap. The spine read “The Stand” by Stephen King. He didn’t know how she could stand reading horror stories though she insisted this one wasn’t scary, just a little global world ending pandemic with a side of a demon man thing taking over Las Vegas- Not scary at all, or so she said. “That book’s making you as sadistic as the author.”

“Right.” She laughed, musical and completely at his expense. He struggled to bite back a laugh. Sassie Sarah was asleep in her bed upstairs, completely unaware of the battle of wills downstairs. “Shall I place the order for the new one yet? Or would you rather I waited until you’re actually pissed off at it?”

“I’ve got this.” Tom snipped back. This was their way- bickering and bantering. There was comfort in it. There was safety in it- to be able to snap and not have the world watching. To not worry about one wrong step being blasted across tabloids. To not have to fake a smile.

“Mmhmm” she hummed, nose returning to the well loved pages of the old hardback book and the early stages of Captain Trips making it’s way around the globe. The book had a renewed ability to grip her as the pandemic raged around the world- not nearly as deadly and not unleashed by the Crimson King but a pandemic just the same. “Don’t glue your fingers together.”

“I’m not a child.” Tom glanced up, placing the dob of glue on the pink end and lining up the other end. This was the third glue he tried, the other two didn’t bond fast enough and were washed away. This was his last chance to be right- superglue.

The plastic slipped and he pinched it together, realizing as he did it that he was making a terrible mistake. “Oh, son of a-”

“Glued your fingers to it, didn’t you?” Cassie asked, not looking up from the pages and Larry Underwood’s goodbye to New York. Tom glanced at her and though her nose was in the book, a smirk was upon her lips.

“No.”

“Show me then.” Her eyes flicked up, leaving the world of The Stand for a moment and meeting his.

With all the showmanship of any actor, he held his hand up and to the side and tried to separate his fingers, fully confident that they would indeed separate. The pads of his fingertips held tightly against one another, plastic stethoscope firmly between them even as the muscles and bones of his long fingers tugged to pull them apart.

“They look glued together to me.” Cassie said, laughing.

“Are not.” Tom answered, showing the maturity one would more expect from their daughter than from a grown man.

“Are too.” She clearly wasn’t above such immature antics either.

“Are not.”

“Prove it.” Cassie closed her book, finger pinched between the pages to hold her place. Not that it mattered, she had the basic story memorized by this point.

Tom pulled his fingers apart with more force this time. He tried not to let his face show anything as the skin ripped apart. For an actor, he didn’t do a very good job of it, he knew. When they separated, he gave a triumphant look to her and said, “See!”

She lost it then. Laughter ripped through her and poured from her. She couldn’t make words that made any sense. “Yo-Y-You” She stammered out followed by “It-i-it’s” And another wave of laughter.

“What?” Tom asked, pouting up at her from his place sitting on the floor. She answered with only more laughter and broken sounds that were sometimes something close to words. It was then that he actually looked at his fingers.

On his thumb was a pink line of plastic, the broken earpiece of the pretty pink Barbie Stethoscope. On the pad of his index finger was the rest of the stethoscope. Neither piece was obeying the laws of gravity and both seemed firmly affixed to the pads of his fingers. For all the trouble he had gone through, the pieces were very much not glued to each other.

“Fuck.” His utterance only set off another wave of laughter from her. “Why did I marry you again?”

“Should I order the toy?” She managed to get out. “Are you ready to admit defeat?”

“Fuck you.” He answered, attempting to bring himself to his feet with the goal of washing the glue from his hand. He quickly found he had no feeling from the knee down on his left side and nearly fell over on himself. “Shut up.” He whined. “You’re getting old too.”

Peek comeback, Tom. Bobby yelped once from his place on the dog bed, cheering his master on. Cassie would surely say the dog was laughing at him but he refused to let her speak for his dog. And in moments like this, Bobby was clearly his dog in his mind. Anything to build a bigger team to prove he was right.

Water didn’t do jack all to wash the glue away. Tom came back into the room picking at the glue on his fingertips, annoyed. “How the bloody hell do you get this shit off?”

“You don’t. It’s there forever, until your fingers shed the skin. You’re now part plastic.”

“Did I mention, fuck you?” Tom jabbed back, finally losing the battle to keep the smile from his lips.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure I’m into plastic men…” Cassie laughed.

“I think I could convince you.” Tom said and the air in the room seemed to change, growing heavy. “That is, if your entertainment at my expense didn’t wake Sarah.”

Cassie set her book aside and poured herself from the chair. “I doubt it.” She said before pulling the clip from her hair. Long brown curls tumbled down her back and he longed to run his fingers through it. There was something sexy about the way she laughed, even after five years. Even if she was laughing at his expense.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @dangertoozmanykids101 @alexakeyloveloki, @winterisakiller, @theoneanna, @alcoholic-muffin, @bambamwolf87, @j-u-s-t-4, @missaphrodite23, @nonsensicalobsessions, @wegingerangelica, @tinchentitri, @queenoftheunderdark, @xoxabs88xox, @theheartofpenelope, @faemapfae, @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123, @myoxisbroken

#tom hiddleston rpf #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x original female character #pandemic fic

[woogyu]

Funny Drabble Game

Drabble Prompts; fluff | angst | funny (when requesting PLEASE add which prompt list it is from)

Can have up to 3 prompts per request + can send multiple requests.

They will all be written for fem reader. I’m very sorry about this, it is just because of what I know/have experience in writing.

Please format requests as follows; funny member prompt # or #s.

ex. funny member #12 + #15

ex. funny florist!member x student!reader #14

Send your requests/asks: here

~ prompts under the cut ~

crossed out = don’t request, usually for when I’ve gotten tired of a specific prompt coming up too often or I don’t like it

Drabble Prompts [credit; https://justforshitsandcackles.tumblr.com ]

“You’re such a fun drunk.”

“Since my dog likes you then i guess i like you.”

“Tell them to fuck off.”

“It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.”

“I want to strangle you 99% of the time.”

“Could you not suck for five minutes?”

“The ladies love a guy who’s good with kids.”

“You can’t banish me! This is my bed/bedroom too!”

“You’re seriously like a man-child.”

“Well thats tragic.”

“I’m too sober for this.”

“You are actually insane!”

“I think you’re actually satan.”

“It’s like -50 degrees in here.”

“Laugh at my jokes! They’re funny and you know it!”

“Sorry isn’t going to help when i kick your ass!”

“Don’t let one of them electrocute themselves or something.”

“Welcome back. Now fucking help me.”

“Do you find this amusing, fuck face?”

“Holy shit! That thing is huge!”

“Don’t kink shame me.”

“I hope i’m never stuck with you on a deserted island.”

“I just cleaned that!”

“Don’t get sassy with me!”

“What do you have behind your back?”

“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god.”

“Not to toot my own horn or anything, but the dog loves me more.”

“I’m going to put on some clothes before you say anything else.”

“Bite me.” “If you insist.”

“Im not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.”

“I need you to be my fake girlfriend/boyfriend.”

“Can you stop playing connect the dots with my freckles?”

“You snuck into my room, at 4am..to cuddle?”

“If we get caught i’m blaming you.”

“What? No! I wasn’t staring..i-i was looking at something behind you!”

“I locked the keys in the car.”

“This is why we can’t have nice things.”

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

“Define normal.”

“Do i get bonus points if i act like i care?”

“Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and i don’t speak english.”

“Don’t look for any redeeming qualities. I don’t have any.”

“And you wonder why you’re single.”

“Remind me to kill you. Please.”

“I’m listening to you. I’m just not paying attention.”

“She’s crazy. and just when you think you’ve reached the bottom of her craziness, theres a crazy underground garage.”

“Sorry. I don’t speak skank.”

“My middle finger salutes you.”

“I don’t think i could ever stab someone. I mean, lets be honest, i can barely get the straw in the capri sun.”

“I don’t have enough middle fingers to let you know how i feel.”

“Somebodys cranky.” “Somebody needs to shut up.”

“All due respect but thats a bunch of crap.”

“I am one of the few people in the world who can murder you and leave no forensic evidence behind.”

“Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.”

“What did i tell you about calling him/her the devil?” “That it’s offensive to the devil?”

“I heard that!” “You were supposed to!”

“I’m not weird. I’m limited edition.”

“If history repeats itself, i am so getting a dinosaur.”

“You seem somewhat familiar. have i threatened you before?”

“Even when we were kids, i always kicked your ass!”

“Sarcasm is the body’s natural reaction to stupidity.”

“Don’t look in her eyes, she might steal your soul.”

“She’s hot, but she’s evil.”

“Do i regret it? Yes. Would i do it again? Probably.”

“You’re going to burn in a very special level in hell. A level they reserve for child molesters, animal abusers, and people who talk at the theater.”

“I’m not a damsel in distress. i’m a damsel doing damage.”

“Sometimes i question my sanity. Occasionally it replies.”

“Why should we date?” “Because we’re attracted to each other.” “I am attracted to pie, but i do not feel the need to date pie.”

“Why does everyone assume the worst of me.” “It saves time.”

“You’ve successfully cured him/her of anything interesting about his/her personality.”

“Neither one of us is drunk enough for this conversation.”

“Wow somebody needs a happy meal.”

“I didn’t do it!” “Then why are you laughing?” “Because whoever did it is a freaking genius.”

“Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.”

“You couldn’t handle me even if i came with instructions.”

“Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.”

“I’m so glad you could come.” “Cut the crap. give me a drink.”

“Where have you been all my life?” “Hiding from you.”

“I can tell that you think what you’re saying is funny, but…no.”

“If you pull out my earphones, i will pull out your lungs.”

“Ah, he’s playing hard-to-get. thats cute.”

“I feel like a freakin’ soccer mom.”

“My ex? Yeah id still hit that. Except this time it would be with a car or a baseball bat.”

“Such big evil in such a little thing.”

“For the love of fuck.” “Yep, thats me. i love to fuck.”

“Are you ready to go?” “Yeah. let me grab my machete.” “We’re going to sephora. no machetes needed.”

Clears throat seriously, “Yas bitch.”

“No road trip is complete without the snacks. So go in there and buy everything you can fit in a tiny cart.”

“I’m all for making you miserable by being insufferable, but unfortunately i have things to do today.”

“Come on, you can help me make conspiracy theories. If you make an especially good one, ill pay for dinner.”

“You know what? Why not? I haven’t ruined my life yet this week. Lets go.”

“Do these dark circles under my eyes say nothing to you about how i am doing?”

“If i didn’t know you better, id say you were trying to flirt by giving me books.”

“What are you talking about? Im hilarious!”

“Duct tape? Duct tape is not going to fix this!”

“What did you think? That you were going to fight him?”

“You’re blocking the view.” “I am the view.”

“Why are you on the floor?” “Tying my shoe.” “You’re wearing rain-boots.”

“Cant stop me from slaying!”

“Close your eyes and imagine it, all the dogs in the world.”

“Be careful, he’s so sweet you might get diabetes.”

“Would you reconsider if i was sober?”

“Stop running i’m wearing flip flops!”

“Why are you holding your boobs?”

“I wouldn’t call it stalking, more like far distance admiring.”

“You need to stop making her laugh! you’re ruining her makeup!”

“I’m sure i can get some kind of sexual gratification from just staring at him if i try hard enough.”

“I’m not sure if its a sexual thing or not.”

“I’m either in the mood for french fries or to rip someone’s head off. Hmmm. decisions, decisions.”

“If you’re not out of the shower in the next five minutes, i’m going to cut your fucking hair off to make your life quicker.”

“No, i will not dress up as a chicken.”

“I never told my extended family that we broke up, and now they want to know when you’re coming over for dinner again.”

“I need a date to my relatives wedding, and i’ve already asked literally everyone else i know, so i know you probably hate me, but please say yes. Otherwise they’ll try to set me up with someone, and they have awful taste.”

“One more sound and i swear to-”

“Sometimes when (name) texts me, i just pretend they didn’t so i don’t have to respond.”

“You gave our pigeon boyfriend the wrong beans!”

“If i’m like 50 and still single, ill marry you because tax benefits.”

“Please, never have children.”

“I know its like 11pm, but i’m on my way to your house with nacho fries.”

“Sometimes i wish i was gay so i wouldn’t have to deal with all these dumbass boys.

“You know, would’ve been nice if you told me your whole ass family was coming to this dinner! I look like a troll.”

“Im going to the party to pet the dog, no thanks drugs.”

“I hope in college i get some excuse to deck him. Maybe with a bottle or something, ill wing it and be like “oops, sorry shithead, my hand slipped.”

“What is this shit…i’m just trying to graduate.”

“Ooo, i sense attitude in your tone.”

“Guess who only got two hours of sleep? Me, lol, i’m gonna die.“

“I’m gonna strangle you.” “Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Superheroes aren’t allowed in my house, especially after they’ve destroyed my living room. go away.”

“oh you’re coming. even if i have to drag you through the snow in your pajamas.”

“i swear you’re gonna end up getting like botox in your tits or something.” “well i mean-” “whAT DO YOU MEAN?!”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen drabbles #seventeen drabble game #seventeen funny #seventeen fanfic #seventeen #svt #seventeen requests

[gildedmuse]

Law is still Shichibukai (for some reason) and meets with the others including Mihawk for government business or something. He learns he had a relationship with Zoro during the 2 years. Even though Law is in a relationship with him now Mihawk & Zoro never really ended theirs officially so Law gets jealous and competative

Right, I have to pass out. But here is part one of three of this magical tale.

Oh thank God someone else has thought of this because I think about this SO MUCH. Like, "what are you even doing with your life?" / "Oh, you know, mostly trying to set up a Mihawk/Zoro/Law love triangle." / "..... Just WHY?"

Because it'd be super hot that's why.

One dude whose super possessive, one who hates losing and one who's totally obvious to all that shit. are you kidding me? That was made for fanfic glory.

I don't know if I can do such a delicious thing justice in a "let's see if I remember how words work" post, but damn right I'll try it.

It's 2020. The world needs this you guys. And hopefully it inspires others to look deep within themselves and realize the Mihawk/Zoro/Law triangle was inside them all along.

To War Over You

"Why do I have to be here again? No offense, Torao, this whole thing sounds boring as hell."

Law closes his eyes and draws a deep breath; the best way to deal with any of the Strawhat crew if you didn't want it to end in bloodshed and a broken alliance. "Did you not understand the first three times I went over the situation, Zoro-ya? I don't know if I can explain it in any simpler terms without resorting to coloring books and grade school lessons."

It may have been a little snippy, but for as confidently as he struts down the hallways of the naval base just those side of Marie Joice, Law could never get use to having marines on either side, standing at every doorway, eyeing him suspiciously as they walk past him in the halls. He'd seen what these men would do given the orders or the chance, so despite how well he could hide behind a haughty mask and arrogant demeanor, Law can't help feeling once more like a frightened child on the run from these very same men.

He had fully expected to have to lead Zoro through the whole parade, tell him not to jump at the sight of every uniform (as is still, deep down, Law's immediately response) but the other swordsman comes off as almost entirely unaffected. He makes eye contact with passing marines as if daring them to question his presence or better yet try something. He doesn't even have a hand on his sword, a sure sign of the boy's nervousness. He walks next to Law, appearing utterly calm and unafraid and, well, bored.

It's giving Law a headache to be honest. Could one if the Strawhats even pretend to behave like normal pirates?

When Zoro's shoulder bumps against Law's he wonders, fleetingly, if this this is the part where Zoro finally admits how paranoid this whole scene leaves him.

They walk past a pair of marines like that, Zoro leaning into his shoulder practically hanging off Law, and neither men blinks an eye. In fact, they make a point of not even glancing up at the passing pirates, their conversation going quiet and their eyes locked to the floor until they've past. That's been the case more and more this visit; a complete change from the first time Law had been invited where even privates and ensigns felt confident enough to give him bad looks, expressions that clearly asked what one of his kind was doing there.

Zoro also waits until the heavy steps of the two marines are mostly out of earshot before he leans, somehow, even closer. Until Law can feel the boy's hot mouth up against his skin, heating the metal hoops in his ear. "I'm so sorry oh powerful warlord," Zoro teases because, since it really occured to him that Law is a Shichibukai - and apparently one the government is desperate to keep on their side - he couldn't seem to stop himself from mocking the title. If it were any other pirate, Law could have chopped them into parts and been done with it, but for whatever reason he allows the vice captain of the straw hats to get away with such insults. "I must have been distracted at the time."

Ah, yes. That's why.

Law ducks his head, as if attempting to hide a smirk as they go by another three marines - ensigns based on their uniforms and the way their eyes go wide before they scurry past. Ah, well, at worst they'll think he's planning something big, something illegal (which he is, though not for a while) though more than likely they'll just think that's how pirates are. Cocky and unafraid.

Law doesn't mind the reputation.

Of course, if they knew the real reason Trafalgar Law, pirate captain, worst generation, and Shichibukai looked so damn smug they probably would have hurried by all the faster.

Is it his fault that there is something so pleasing about taking a man with the reputation of Roronoa Zoro and having him on his knees and begging? Law can't help the spark of pride knowing that while most others couldn't even halt Zoro's steps were he determined to get by, Law could leave him sprawled out, exhausted, panting on the bed after being made to come a fourth time and yet in two hours he'd crawl into Law's lap, needy and impatient and wanting anything the older pirate would give him.

It's enough to make any man a little conceited. After all, how many can say they've reduced the pirate hunter to such a desperate state?

Law has every right to feel proud.

Still nearly climbing on top of Law even as they walked, Zoro takes the other man's ear in his mouth, tongue first warming the metal and then teeth pulling at the earrings. Law really should make him stop; they must have all sorts of surveillance inside the base. But he just can't find it in him to do more than find the most obvious of the recording snails stuck to the walls, offering it and whoever is lucky enough to be watching a cocky smile.

And because Zoro, like the most crew, doesn't seem to understand the idea of subtle, he follows the bite up with, "I guess having you fuck my mouth interests me more than some political bullshit. Hard paying attention to all this useless junk when your buried that deep in my throat."

It's not romantic. It's hardly even sexy. And yet even as Zoro slides back into his own space, Law can feel something in his gut start to tighten, to want. It had been such a mistake to bring the swordsman along, he should have known better.

Only he'd received a hint from a certain high ranking, unnamed inspector general that the navy knew he was harbouring at least some of the Straw hats on his ship (However did they find that out, Zoro-ya? Maybe if you didn't insist on fighting every battle ship you saw). He would still be expected to attend the meeting, of course, but if he did show up they would certainly search his ship for the pirates and, failing that, likely charge him all the same. Especially after they couldn't use the Doflamigo incident against him, in part thanks to Issho's very live, very unscripted broadcast.

It seemed obviously to Law that their best option is to claim these straw hats had made the decision to work under him (some more literally than others) which only left the matter of which one to bring, to show Law isn't afraid of their suspicious.

Robin could lie very well and would have easily been the best choice, except she was just as likely to stand in front of some of the top ranked marines and inform them that, in fact, she is still and will always be a Strawhat. And she'd say it with a smile. Franky... Well, no. Franky wouldn't last two minutes into an interrogation. Usopp could lie, but there's a chance he'd over do it, or simple break down at the sight of so many marines.

No, Zoro had been his best choice, which is a condemnation of his chooses really. He's just hoping the vice captain will be able to clentch his teeth and get through it.

As added incentive, Law made plenty of promises.... And threats. Depending, of course, on Zoro's ability to behave.

"What's the point of even calling you out here?" Zoro asks in an entirely casual tone, as if he hadn't just described sucking Law off. "Not like the government acts wants your opinion on anything."

Law has to admit Zoro's right, but after the near catastrophe at Dressrosa, Law is trying to play ball. If they haven't expelled him yet it's because they need something from him, and Law is determined to find out what. "Just do as I tell you and don't make a scene," Law says, knowing those two instructions are impossible for any strawhat to follow, perhaps especially this one. "So long as you don't-"

Suddenly, Law is no longer looking at Zoro but at the plain walls of the military base. Confused, he looks back to see Zoro has come to a stop in the middle of the hall. There is a dangerous grin pulling at his lips, one that Law would definitely be afraid of of he hadn't seen it so many times right before Zoro swallowed him whole. Now it just makes him lose his breath a little too fast, the heat in his gut pours through the rest of him, becoming something he can't control.

Expect Zoro isn't looking his way at all.

"Hawkeye," Zoro says simply, and while his voice is harsh his expression certainly isn't. "I forgot they still recognize you as a Shichibukai. When I defeat you then, do I get that title as well?"

Law jerks to look back so abruptly he feels a little sick, but sure enough there he is; fellow Shichibukai and world's greatest swordsman. A title that Law knows Zoro coverts, perhaps explaining the gleam in his eyes as he stares down the other swordsman. Though Law would have expected it to hold more.... Hostility. Instead, despite the seriousness of his tone and the challenge in his eyes, Zoro's lips keep twitching, unable to completely hide the a smile.

He's probably just happy to get this chance at a rematch. Not that Law is about to let that happen in the middle of a marine base. Zoro may be less than cautious and driven by his heart rather than solid reason, but he isn't that crazy.

.... Is he?

"Roronoa," Mihawk greets him formally and, again, his voice even and devoid of humour, and yet the older Shichibukai does nothing to hide his smile. "How strange to see the rabbit has wandered so far from its burrow."

Zoro wrinkles his nose before deciding to go for something slight more intimidating. "I told you not to call me that." He might try and pass it off as a growl, but honestly he sounds like a pouting child. It's cute, in a way.

In the way that it would have been cute, if it had been for Law.

Mihawk's smirk grows more amused, more cocky at Zoro's reply. "I seem to recall you didn't mind at times." Mihawk's long strides eat up the room between him and Zoro in a matter of seconds, and before Law even thought to be on guard the older man is leaning down, whispering something for only Zoro to hear.

Law may not know what exactly is said, but he recognizes the flush in the other boy's cheeks, the way his eyes go wide before falling half closed as he rocks, almost consciously, up onto his toes and closer to the one teasing him.

It's a state he's enjoyed putting the swordsman in in the past, one he's never had to witness as a third party.

When Mihawk has finished, Zoro is just a touch too pink and too breathless for Law's comfort. But it's the smirk on the older swordsman's lips when he pulls away that makes Law clench his fist and bite doesn't hard. If they weren't at this base, he's fairly certain nothing, not even his intelligence or will to survive, could stop him from casting a room and cutting Mihawk's heart out. At the least.

It's only after Mihawk has had his fun with Zoro that he looks up, his sharp golden eyes falling on Law. Law can only remember one other time the master swordsman has graced him with so much as a vague consideration; when he'd first arrived here, a newly appointed warlord. Mihawk had merely regarded him with nothing more than a passing glance before declaring he had more important things to attend to and making a swift, unapologetic exit.

Now, though, his eyes seem to study Law like he's preforming a dissection, seeing parts of him that Law would have thought impossible to see.

"Trafalgar," Mihawk uses the same even tone as he had with Zoro, only lacking in any signs of warmth as he had with Zoro. "I see you decided to join us after all." Before Law can point out that he could hardly deny the summon he had been sent, Mihawk's eyes are back on Zoro. "Am I to believe the rumours of you abandoning your captain are true then, Roronoa?"

Before Zoro can ruin their cover (Law can see it in his face and feel the aura around him, this refusal to deny his captain) Law is quick to leap in. "Zoro-ya is under me now, if that is what you're asking," Law snaps, perhaps with more bite than is necessary. And if his words can be taken more than one way, well, that's really up to the listener to decide. "Otherwise, why would I entrust him to accompany me to this summit?"

#ask and you shall receive #the zolaw au nobody asked for #zoro x law #zoro x mihawk #one piece #one piece au #one piece fanfiction #mizo #zolaw