#and very very loosely the ''what a pair they make'' line is bc what a catch donnie came up on my playlist right then

[hum--hallelujah]

like a sledgehammer to a disco ball - 3.9k words, Fun Ghoul angst and protective Kobra Kid

Kobra jerks awake at the first creak of the floor. The only person who has any right to be in his room at night knows better than to step where the floor creaks. Instinct takes over and he's holding his blaster at body height by the time his brain and eyes are awake enough to see through the dark.

"It's me, it's me, it's me," Ghoul stammers, holding his hands defensively in the air. Only, it sounds more like "'smee," because of the way Ghoul is slurring. And he's bleeding.

Kobra drops the blaster as soon as he realizes that the dark smear across Ghoul's face is blood. "What the hell, man," he hisses, groping in the dark for a light with one hand and trying to pat Ghoul down to make sure he's not like, actively dying, with the other. He could be blackout drunk or he could have gone out alone like he does sometimes and any number of things could have happened. The cold metal of an old flashlight meets his fingers and he flicks it on, shining the dim light over Ghoul.

"I did something stupid," Ghoul says. Only, it comes out as "Uh did su'hn stooid," wavering slightly, because the entire right side of Ghoul's face, from the corner of his mouth to his cheekbone, is sliced open. There's a horrific flap of flesh hanging loose that's supposed to be connected to the rest of his face. That's where the blood staining his face and clothes and hands is coming from, and why when he speaks, it sounds wrong.

"Holy shit," Kobra whispers, feeling cold Zone night air sting his eyes because they're open so wide. "Okay. Okay, what happened?" He holds Ghoul carefully by one arm, feels the way he's shaking. He's always shaking, except when he's got his hands in a bomb. This is worse than normal though. This is so much worse than anything Kobra's ever seen.

Ghoul shrugs, waves his hands vaguely and wildly. Kobra hisses a sharp breath through his teeth, frantically runs a hand through his hair. "Okay," He says again. "I'm gonna get-" He needs Jet, de facto medic, he needs Party, needs his brother-

"No," Ghoul says sharply, and that at least is completely clear. His eyes are wild from what Kobra can see in the dark. If human eyes could glow, his would. He grips Kobra's arms. "Please don't," he mumbles around the gruesome injury. His voice is high and frantic, and it has to hurt to talk. "Just you."

Kobra freezes. There's a slowly building feeling of dread, growing stronger by the moment. He pulls Ghoul off him, holds him by the wrists. "Okay. Just me," he promises, and feels sick about it. "Just me."

Ghoul noticeably relaxes, though he's still trembling head to toe, and lets Kobra drag him across the diner in near-silence aside from the occasional seemingly involuntary whimper on Ghoul's part, into the single-stall bathroom with a barely working lightbulb. Somehow, they make it past the front room where Party sleeps without waking him, much as Kobra wants to let his brother take care of this. He's practically trembling at how badly he wants Pois right now.

There's a medical kit in the cabinet that Kobra pulls out immediately. He knows how to handle this, physically speaking. It's whatever else, the shit he doesn't know and is scared to find out, like how this freaking happened, that makes him nervous. Ghoul stands in the flickering light like he doesn't know what to do.

"Sit the fuck down," Kobra snaps nervously, gesturing to the toilet lid. Ghoul does. Kobra pulls a dubiously clean rag from the cabinet and eyes it. It scares him to see Ghoul like this. Usually if he's scared, he fights. He hisses and spits and claws at whoever comes near him. More often than not, that's Kobra. But this, the wide-eyed jittering, is a whole other animal.

"This whole thing is gonna suck," he says stiffly. Ghoul nods. With a little more light, Kobra can see the thick, shiny blood streaming from the wound through his cheek. It isn't enough that Kobra's afraid Ghoul will bleed out, but the cut is so long and clear through and absolutely grotesque. He crouches down in front of where Ghoul is sitting, sideways on the toilet, and he can't tell if Ghoul is looking at him or through him, almost as if he's the ghost.

In a quick motion that startles both of them, probably, Kobra grabs the back of Ghoul's head with one hand and presses the rag to the seeping wound with the other. Ghoul's eyes go even wider and even greener, and what starts out as a shout of pain from him turns into a choked keening sound. Hearing it feels like being stabbed.

"What happened?" Asks Kobra again, when he's convinced that the bleeding has slowed enough to try and actually deal with this thing. He twists the handle on the faucet on and off, on and off, enough times that the ancient water pump starts up and clean water gurgles into the sink. He cleans the rag that way, then wets it and wrings it out before shutting the water off.

Ghoul's shoulders rise and fall in short, panicky breaths. "I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry. I'm- I didn't think, it was stupid, I'm sorry," he continues babbling like that before going silent again aside from the sharp sounds of his breathing.

In a testament to Kobra's selfishness, his biggest worry is that Ghoul took his motorbike out for a spin and crashed it. He can't think of what could have caused something like this. He has visions of his bike sliding out on a turn, crumbled metal and Ghoul's body flying through the air. But if that had happened he'd be hurt other than this. If that had happened he might be dead.

"Yo," he says quietly. "Chill. Just tell me what happened." He presses the now-damp rag to Ghoul's face, trying to ignore just how grotesque the wound really is. Maybe because it's fresh, maybe because of the fear, but somehow it's worse than the space where Jet's other eye used to be. Kobra never wanted to see an injury of that level on another person again in his life, let alone someone he cares about.

Ghoul flinches away, but Kobra shoots him a look and it must process somehow, because he stills and lets Kobra clean the already drying blood away from the edges of the wound with barely a whine. "It was stupid," he repeats, his voice shaking as much as it's slurring. "I don't know why I did it, Kid."

Something about the way he says that, voice small and wavering, sends a chill down Kobra's throat. Sudden understanding dawns on him. The blood on Ghoul's hands. He's not injured anywhere else. "You did that to yourself?" Kobra asks hoarsely.

Ghoul's eyes snap onto his and the rest of the color drains from his face. Kobra thinks he's going to pass out for a second, but he doesn't. He pulls as far away as he can, scrabbling awkwardly against the cold tiles and porcelain of the bathroom. "I don't know what I though, I was stupid, I don't- Kobra," he whines, with enough animalistic despair that Kobra wants suddenly to burst into tears, if he weren't so utterly stunned.

"Ghoul, calm down, I've gotta stitch it still," he says on autopilot. "Cool your engine, man."

Maybe it's the practicality of the thing that makes Ghoul momentarily stop panicking. "I'm sorry," he says again, tears welling in his eyes that he then blinks away half-frantically. Kobra's never heard him apologize for anything before tonight. He never wants to hear it again.

"It's okay, man. I've got you." He replies. If his own voice is shaking now, too, no the hell it isn't. "Come on, you have to let me..." he trails off, eyes wide. "Ghoul, why..." Then he shakes his head. He can't think about that now. He needs to disinfect the wound and stitch it up. And it's going to hurt Ghoul really, really badly.

He reaches behind him, grabs at the bottle of alcohol. This stuff is rare out in the Zones. They try to use it as little as possible. Only in emergencies. This is enough of an emergency, though. This is a fucking crisis.

He pours the bare minimum of the alcohol onto another piece of cloth, feels the cold soak in. Ghoul watches every move with jerking, stilted intensity. Kobra looks up at him from where he's now kneeling on the cold tile. He puts a hand behind Ghoul's head again. "This is going to hurt," he warns. They've nearly gouged each other's eyes out before, yet suddenly Kobra feels like he's going to be sick at the thought of causing Ghoul any more pain. Ghoul shuts his eyes in preparation.

Ghoul still nearly screams when Kobra dabs the alcohol over his wound. Kobra can see it in the way he holds his breath, the spring-tight tension in Ghoul's entire body. The only noise he makes is a quiet, drawn out whine, though. When a tear streaks down his cheekbone, Kobra catches it before a drop of salt can enter the wound.

"'Kay," he says in a ragged whisper. "That's done. Now I have to-" he gestures like he's sewing. Ghoul's eyes pop open to see what he's saying and he visibly forces himself to breathe again.

"'Kay," Ghoul says back in an equally torn up voice.

It only takes Kobra three tries to thread a needle. Medical supplies of any type are hard to come by, a whole new kind of commodity, but this stash has been here for as long as he can remember, just in case. Blaster burns, the most common injuries amongst 'Joys, come pre-cauterized. He's rarely had to sew sutures before.

Ghoul flinches back when the tip of the needle first touches the edge of his torn skin, and Kobra pauses. "Hold still," he grumbles, more out of familiar sniping than any real frustration at this point. He keeps his hand in Ghoul's hair the entire time he sews.

The feeling of a needle piercing flesh is horrible. The fact that it's his friend, someone he'd give his life for before seeing them hurt, is even worse. Kobra wants to fucking throatpunch whoever did this to Ghoul, or better, do the same thing to them, before he remembers with a sinking feeling in his stomach that Ghoul did this to himself.

He ties off the suture just barely keeping his hands from shaking. He doesn't know how Ghoul does this with bombs. Ghoul flinches again, violently, when Kobra cuts the excess line, and Kobra has to jerk back to keep from catching a flailing, uncoordinated fist in the face.

"Hey," he snaps. "Ghoul!"

Ghoul slips off the toilet lid and onto the floor almost as if he intended it but halfway as an accident and immediately curls in on himself. He pulls his knees to his chest and curls his arms around his head and Kobra can hear him hyperventilating. Kobra fucking freezes. He's used to fighting and wrestling and knee-jerk reactions that wind up with someone sporting a black eye. He is terrified right now. And there's still Ghoul's blood on his hands, too.

"Ghoul..." He cautiously reaches out, puts a hand on Ghoul's leg. Ghoul twitches, lets out a hiccupy sound that takes a moment to register in Kobra's mind as a sob. Ghoul, chaos loving, cackling Ghoul, is crying. And not just a single tear, now, his whole body is shuddering with the force of how hard he's crying. Kobra's heart is pounding with how hard he does not know what's happening, but he grips Ghoul's arm and lightly shakes him. "Hey, I'm still here, man."

Ghoul makes that keening whine again and Kobra thinks at first that he's going to pull away at best, or throw a real punch at worst. They fight enough, for any and no reason at all, that he expects it now. That's their normal. This isn't.

Ghoul scrambles to his knees, his hands finding the front of Kobra's shirt. This restroom is small, they're already in close quarters. But maybe unintentionally, maybe just scrabbling for a little purchase on anything, Ghoul winds up grabbing onto Kobra. And Kobra has always had a hard time letting anything go.

Ghoul's forehead crashes into his shoulder and Kobra instinctively puts his hands up, grabs back onto Ghoul in return. Ghoul's usual shaking is familiar to him, but the repressed wracking sobs aren't. Kobra clutches desperately around Ghoul's back, like he could hold together what he's just sewn up, like if he keeps Ghoul close enough he can't shake into pieces. No one should be able to break Ghoul. Not even Ghoul himself.

The edges of the cabinet dig into Kobra's back, but he ignores it. Ghoul is folding in on himself, making himself as small as he can against Kobra, and Kobra doesn't fucking know what to do. He's never seen Ghoul cry like this. He's never seen anyone cry like this.

"It hurts," cries Ghoul suddenly.

"I know," Kobra says, before he realizes that crying like this is probably making everything worse, that he'd worried about salt in the wound a minute before for this exact reason. He can't imagine the pain Ghoul is probably in.

"It didn't hurt at first," Ghoul mumbles, then chokes on a sob. "It didn't hurt when I started. And then it did."

Kobra wants to ask again, why? But he won't get anything intelligible. There's a part of him that doesn't want to know. He's terrified of knowing the truth. Instead, he threads his fingers through Ghoul's hair again and just repeats, "I know. I know."

A few minutes pass in speedy, spiraling silence. The only sound between them is their shared too-fast breathing.

"I can't," stammers Ghoul finally, after his cries have tapered out into raspy gasps. "I can't turn it on or off."

"Huh?" Is all Kobra can think to say. "Ghoul, you're not making sense, nothing about this makes sense," he snips, too quick and too tense. He's so beyond his depth. He wants Jet or Party to come help but he can't have it his way because he promised. He promised Ghoul. He wants to hit something. A wall, just to feel the impact. To imagine he's hitting whatever it is that hurt his friend so badly he hurt himself.

Ghoul sniffs. All Kobra can see of him is the top of his head and the cheek with the stitches. The wound is swollen and red and is going to leave a horrific scar. Kobra clenches his fist tighter behind Ghoul's back. "When I'm having fun or not," Ghoul says. "I can't. I am or I'm not. But."

"But what?" For fuck's sake, Kobra just wants to understand. He can read Ghoul like a book from cover to cover most times, and it scares him that he's so lost right now.

"It isn't good enough," he mumbles. "It's... It's in my fuckin' name, Kid, if I can't live up to that what am I?"

Kobra stares, wide-eyed, at the wall across from him. Something clicks. The clean cut through Ghoul's face, clearly from a recently sharpened knife, clearly intentional, reached from the corner of his lips almost to his ear. "Oh fuck no," he whispers. "Hell no. What the fuck. You're not-" He feels himself shaking suddenly, with restrained searing hot anger. Ghoul cut his head open, mutilated himself, to make himself permanently grin. "You're not fucking beholden to your fucking name," Kobra says. He never swears this much, only in his own mind. He's running out of words. "Fuck," he says, with feeling.

Ghoul shudders again. "I'm fuckin insane, aren't I?" He asks with sudden clarity.

It's exactly what Kobra had been thinking, for once completely unable to figure out Ghoul's mind, but he can't just say that. He can't just say that he's terrified because nothing makes sense and he's never going to freaking leave Ghoul alone again because this is all completely unhinged on so many levels that he can't even begin to sort through it. He can't say anything. He hopes Ghoul is sane enough to understand that, at least.

He just holds his friend tighter. He wants his brother more than anything right now, wants Party to come and take this weight out of his hands, but a part of him knows that even if he did, he wouldn't be able to let go of Ghoul. Why didn't Ghoul want anyone else but him? Why, after pretty much imprinting on Party like a feral kitten when they'd first met, to the point that sometimes Kobra thinks bitterly than Ghoul might know Party better than his own brother does, did he come to him? Why did he do any of this?

If a few tears of his own drip down Kobra's nose and land in Ghoul's tangled hair, no the hell they don't. He's never seen anyone go to pieces like this and he's struck dumb at the fact that it's literal. Very, very literally, Ghoul has gone to pieces. Taken a knife, that's probably still lying on the floor of his abandoned-office bedroom, and cut a line through his own cheek just so others might see a smile there.

There's crazy in his veins. Acid, maybe. And Kobra's always known that even if Party recognized it first. Watching your whole family die, failing to save your baby sibling, doesn't leave a person without any scars. Only, now, the scar is far too visible. Kobra's always known that Ghoul is more wild than any of them. Feral, unpredictable. He was raised by a pair of Killjoys who named themselves Hoot and Holler, and the thing is, a ghoul is just a ghost, and ghosts wail too. He should have known.

"I should've known," he says out loud, the first words in a while. He knows Ghoul so well. Better than he knows himself. He should have known something was wrong. He should never have left him alone. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He can't even blink. He stares hard at the opposite wall and tries not to scream.

Ghoul shakes his head against Kobra's shoulder and winces. "Nuh-uh," he mumbles. "I'm crazy, man. I'm insane." The fuzzy way it sounds around the stitches and the swelling just seems like proof. Just last night Ghoul's cheek was smooth and soft as he grinned across a table in triumph after winning a card game. How is it that that was just a few hours ago? He shudders again. "I'm scared," he says more quietly.

"Me too," Kobra says. As soon as the sun comes up he thinks he's going to storm out into the desert and find something, anything to beat up. Even a freakin cactus would do at this point. He doesn't know how he's going to explain this to Pois or Jet but he knows that much. He's gonna shake so hard he blows up, like a can of soda, unless he hits something. "I fucking hate you," he snaps suddenly.

Ghoul starts to flinch away, but Kobra doesn't let him. In fact, he curls tighter around him without even knowing why. "What the hell," Ghoul rasps.

Kobra hisses through his teeth. Speaking of living up to names. He fucking hates anyone who hurts his friends. But he can't say it. Hard as he tries, in the one moment of clarity about his own mind that he has, he can't speak.

"I fucking hate me, too," Ghoul says finally. The single dusty lightbulb above them flickers. If it goes out, they'll be in total darkness. Kobra thinks one or both of them might have a wicked eyeshine by now. The desert makes you wild. For some people, they're born that way.

"I think you're my best friend," Kobra finally manages to whisper. It isn't exactly what he was going for. It's not something he would ever say if he had thought of it before it popped out of his mouth. But Ghoul gets the point. Of course he does. Ghoul always gets his sharp edges, snakebite teeth and misspoken definitions and all.

"I think you're mine," Ghoul says back. "I'm-"

Kobra smacks the back of his head, like this is in any way normal, like they aren't collapsed on a dim bathroom floor in the middle of the night or the early hours of the morning and like one of them isn't mutilated for life by his own hand. Like this isn't the worst thing they've ever gone through together. "If you say you're sorry again, I'll cut you myself."

It's rough, and it's torn up and pained and choked, but Ghoul laughs. Just a short bark of laughter, hardly like the dry, rasping cackle that Kobra knows so well. It sounds like agony but it also sounds like the sun coming up. Kobra makes a noise in the back of his throat, more whine than laugh, but he's so close to blowing up that it's as good as it gets. He wants to freaking die if that would keep Ghoul in one piece.

Ghoul shifts in Kobra's arms and pulls away just far enough to look him in the eye. He clumsily wipes at the tears and snot all over his face and Kobra has to snap a hand out to catch his wrist before he unthinkingly swipes at the fresh wound and stitches. "Kobra," Ghoul says, shivering in the dark. The sun won't take long to come up once it starts but until it does, the Zones are freezing. "Kobra."

"Yeah, man, I'm still right here." Kobra forces himself to look Ghoul in the eyes and not the stitches. The wound takes up so much of his face. It's all Kobra can see when he looks at Ghoul, his best friend's mutilated mouth, sliced open by his own hand. Kobra flinches just imagining it. He focuses instead on Ghoul's green eyes, boring holes into his head with the desperate pleading in them. "I'm still right here," Kobra repeats, quieter. Reminding himself, too.

Ghoul doesn't blink. Kobra doesn't blink. Their eyes reflect the dim light back at each other. This is what wild animals must feel for each other. Terror. Uncertainty. Just themselves, each other, and whatever comes. Ghoul licks his lips, tongue flicking briefly, visibly, to the corner of his mouth that he cut open. "Don't let me-" Ghoul starts and then falters. "You gotta make sure," he says. "Don't let me- do stupid shit like this, don't let me go crazy again, Kobra, please."

Kobra stares back at him, matching Ghoul's trembling desperation. He's known Ghoul since the day their crew found him, shell shocked between the shelves of an empty gas station with the bodies of his parents and previous crew around him. Perpetually shaking hands and feral bared teeth, animal eyeshine. No one can match Ghoul for determination, and no one knows Kobra as well as he does. Even if Ghoul does know his brother better than him, the same is true in reverse.

Kobra Kid has a hard fucking time ever letting go of anything once he's got it. Fun Ghoul holds on too loosely. They're both terrified. What a pair they make. But when Kobra Kid makes a promise, he means it. He grabs the ends of Ghoul's hair and pulls, not too hard, but hard enough. That's their normal. Play fighting and hair pulling, and they both know it's a kind of language for when they can't speak. "Okay," he says, and because it's a promise, he repeats it. "Okay."

#uhhhh anyway. come to killjoys world with me #I keep calling these two my mongoose and snake #they take out their worst on each other but at the same time it's like they were *made* for each other #also a few notes in the tags: kobra repeats himself a lot. that's intentional. it's because I do it irl #quite honestly at this point I might almost have a stutter?? #anyway also there's a TON of super vague song references in here. I almost called this ''a scar away from falling apart'' #but I couldn't stop thinking about that one boygenius song while I wrote this. would you still love me if it turns out I'm insane? #also the two(2) minor refs to famous last words!!!! #and very very loosely the ''what a pair they make'' line is bc what a catch donnie came up on my playlist right then #also this is WAY more swearing than I would usually write but... it just felt right? like it helped the flow?? and fit the characters? idk #ANYWHOMST. random danger days precanon fic. the girl isn't here yet. #she speaks! #HMMM do I need a writing tag for this blog? #she writes! #danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #kobra kid #fun ghoul #K I think I've got it covered #wait trigger tags #self-harm tw #self mutilation tw

[tremendum]

okay hear me out…… a javi fic based on the song bad idea by girl in red…..

bad idea

pairing: javier peña x fem!reader

rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)   word count: 5.7k   requested: yes, based on the song bad idea! by girl in red as above as well as "can we have a javi p x fem!reader fic with a size kink PLLLSSSSS you'll fucking body that!!!" summary:  "bottom line, now you're stuck at this sticky bar, nursing your whiskey ginger because there's only one other person here you know; and he is a bad idea. and he's walking over to you." warnings: probably the worst spanish ever (pls correct me!), tbh this is porn with feelings, established friendship, this ended up pretty fluffy, soft dom!javi, reader has a very loose job description, drinking, smoking, size kink, praise, minor self-doubt/insecurity from both, oral (f!receiving), smut (unprotected PiV), spitting, slight face riding, multiple orgasms. notes: cant BELIEVE this is my first javi fic??? bc ive been loving this request for a while and this finally came to me amidst a fever, ive written it in like just over an hour and a half and refuse to edit it. anyways, desperate Javi is so sexy to i had to throw it in there,,, please lmk if you enjoy it and leave a comment/reblog!! that's how writers are motivated!! :) lmk if you guys want more javi in the future bc hes soooo yummy

masterlist

★  

it's as if the universe is calling on you to make bad decisions tonight. 

you didn't intend on going to the bar and staying until last call - that notion had only just appeared to you around four-forty-five pm, when you were signing what was to likely be only halfway through the documents you had to sort and approve by today's deadline. or maybe it'd slipped into your head when Murphy and Peña strutted into their desks just across from yours in the bullpen, smirks on their faces and their words hushed. 

you'd caught Javier's eye just as he laughed at something Steve muttered, his brows raising tauntingly as he glanced from his empty desk to your cluttered one. his shirt was unbuttoned and tie loosened, much too casual for the work day that'd yet to end; you'd rolled your eyes and resisted the urge for a cigarette. or the urge to climb over those desks and onto his lap right then and there. 

so you'd told yourself as a reward for the overtime you'll be punching in this week, you'll grab a few drinks - maybe, maybe find someone pretty to go home with. it's been a few months since anything delicious came your way, and after your tortuous new reassignment to the west side of the office, you've been forced to stare at Javier Peña for close to forty hours a week while he furrows his brow, churning cigarettes and barking things on the phone. 

it was a bad idea to let yourself find him attractive, and an even worse decision to become friendly - because once it started, it was an downhill sprint towards full-blown feelings. 

he didn't make it easier, with his looks and his comments and how he walked you to your car every evening or invited you to drinks with him, Murphy and Connie every Friday.

Javi was trouble. so, here you were. 

but fate is not on your side - it was simply a bad idea to come to this bar. 

it's not like you didn't expect to see him here, either. Javi always frequents this bar, all DEA agents do - and you'd actually told him and Murphy this time that you'd planned your night around this exact barstool. another poor plan, because now you're stuck staring at Javier's chiseled profile as he smiles at the woman working the bar, sliding his empty glass across to her and running a hand over his jaw. 

yes, you'd all but invited Javi to join you this evening, but you hadn't expected him to come alone - something about Connie and Murphy going to buy flowers on the way home - whatever. bottom line, now you're stuck at this sticky bar, nursing your whiskey ginger and poking at the ice with your cocktail straw because there's only one other person here you know; and he is a bad idea. 

and he's walking over to you.

"what's got you so down, cariño?" his voice is smooth as silk - but something deeper, almost. barrel-aged, probably. you regret the smile that placates your expression when he pulls himself into the stool on your left, turning your body to face him slightly. he's smiling already - that fucking smile, damn him. 

your head feels fuzzy as the smell of his cologne, muddled from the sweat of the day and the drink he'd enjoyed in the hour before deciding to come over to your side of the bar. you sigh, "trying to decide if I can walk home from here." you joke with a shrug, huffing a laugh through your nostrils as you cross your legs together. 

your skirt always used to feel odd against the stools here - the juxtaposition of work attire in a dive like this sticking out like a sore thumb. but you're used to it, now, and it barely phases you that your work shirt is unbuttoned just a bit more than it'd been at work this evening. 

Javi tuts gently, "should've considered that before last call." he mutters, raising his brows as he slides a cigarette between two plush lips, searching around his tight jeans for a light. your lips curl in a half-smile as you flick your own lighter, leaning forward to light it for him; his eyes, dark and swimming.

"guess so, but I've been prone to making bad decisions lately." you sigh, shrugging a shoulder. 

he hums lowly as a puff of smoke plumes around your bodies, gently caressing you. his arms, exposed to the elbow by the carefree sleeve-rolling Javi did the moment he left the embassy, glow golden under the low light. "Leavitt." he mutters in recognition, and something within you blooms and sputters. you nod sheepishly - Leavitt had reamed you in the middle of the bullpen early this morning for incorrectly guessing on some of his paperwork and resulting him in a fine. 

you wish Javi hadn't heard, but- well, it'd been hard not to hear. 

you smile weakly, shrugging as you desperately try to chase the cherry at the bottom of your glass, not sure what to say. your eyes meet his when you finally fish the cherry up and bring it to your lips; the sweet flesh of the fruit breaks open and the juice slides over your lips and onto your tongue as you sigh. 

his eyes follow you just as they've followed your figure around the office for months; dark, unspoken, wanting. screaming something at you, as you lift one brow towards his dark gaze. 

"among other things," you sigh, tongue slipping out to gather the syrupy juice on your bottom lip, "yes." 

Javi shrugs, "fuck him." he mutters it simply, fingers tapping lightly on the wood grain of the bar between you, and you crack a smile, "yeah, fuck him." 

you swallow your last sip before humming, "so where's Murphy? didn't realize this'd be a party of two." 

he tilts his head, "is that such a bad thing?" 

you huff a short laugh, cheeks heating up as he stares down at you, eyes dipping low to the lowest button of your shirt before meeting your gaze. "I never said that, did I Javi?" you smile sweetly, balancing your head on your hand, leaning on your elbow. but you know better; this is a bad thing, you realize. 

because the second Javi leans closer, you catch the woodsy musk and cigarettes that swirl around him, a deep amber scent. you're totally fucked. 

there's something that's been dancing between the two of you for weeks now, too exciting and different and real to acknowledge yet; but now, with three drinks under your belt and his large eyes on you, you don't think you can resist. 

you don't want to. 

but something catches your eye behind his attentive frame, and you try to hide a laugh. "your admirer is staring." you smirk, eyes distracted by the woman tending bar who keeps glancing with a stare at the back of Javi's head.

he doesn't even turn his head, seemingly already knowing who you're talking about. 

he shakes his head, "she's an old friend." he dismisses, eyes not leaving yours. you raise a brow, "friend?" you scoff lightheartedly - you know him, you know his reputation. 

he smiles, "yes, a friend." he insists, though his pink cheeks suggest otherwise, and you laugh. 

"it's been months since I've been with someone." you sigh, almost embarrassed to be admitting that to someone with such... high credentials in that arena. you honestly don't even know why you admitted it.

he doesn't seem phased, but his eyes seem to grow a shade darker as he flickers them back to you. 

"why don't you change that?" he says with almost no hesitation.  

you shake your head, "because I don't have a ride home." you tease, looking at him through your lashes. 

his head tilts towards you microscopically, eyes flickering over your features in a way that has your thighs clenching together. "let's go." he decides, ghost of a grin falling on his lips as he moves to stand. you blink, setting the glass with a clink down on the bar, "you don't have to, Javi, I can-" 

he waves you off with a dismissive hand, shaking his head as if offended, "I'm not leaving you here, cariño." he smiles gently, offering a hand to help you off your stool. something warm turns in your stomach as you take his hand - this is such a bad idea yet you can't help but dive in head-first. 

he insists on walking you to your door. 

you'd think it chivalrous, but with the way his hand falls on the small of your back, you're beginning to think it's anything but. 

he leans against the wall just next to your door as you dig through your purse for your keys, cheeks hot under the scrutiny of his gaze. by the time you slide the key into the lock and open the door, he's standing just a foot away from you, hands in his pockets and an easy look on his face under the flickering fluorescent lights in the hall. you turn back, heart hammering, as he speaks. 

"have a good night, cariño." he says with a gentle smile, about to turn around; you feel your opportunity slip through your fingers like the grains of time as you stutter, "w-wait!" 

he can't hide the smirk as he turns back to you and you bite your lip, tilting your head inside, "Javi..." you murmur softly, embarrassed to even say it.

his brows raise in question, intrigue spreading over his face, but he says nothing.

in your impatience, you flush, sighing. "don't make me say it." you almost whine. 

at your words, he takes a step towards you, your head tilting up to follow his eyes until he's directly in front of you.

there's a playful kind of desire that flickers through his features as he watches you're heaving breaths. his breath hits you warm and inviting as his glistening eyes search yours, "say it." 

your throat dries as you take a breath, "please," you try instead, face heating in embarrassment. he shakes his head, one large hand rising to caress over your jaw, brushing a strand of hair back from your ear.

leaning into your ear, he whispers gently, "you can do better than that, can't you hermosa?" his voice rolls over your body, inciting goosebumps to travel the length of your skin. 

you let out a stuttering breath, your whole body buzzing in anticipation as your eyes roll over the doors of your neighbors, hoping none of them can see the way this man crowds around you right now, how desperate you are as your hand slides over his own forearm. "Javi, I want you," you whisper, biting your lip. 

the groan he lets out sends a rush of heat to your core; arousal slicks your underwear as you feel lips ghost over the junction of your neck and shoulder; "estoy seguro de que sí, niña bonita," he breathes against your hot skin, his hands grabbing your hip and hair, pushing you suddenly against the wall. 

you gasp, a short whimper escaping your throat as his teeth scrape over your pressure point, one hand sliding into his hair, tugging at the thick locks. "fuck," you whimper as he presses fully against you, the pressure of his hardening cock against your stomach, "Javi-" 

you mutter, hands frantically pulling him by the collar of his shirt towards your awaiting, desperate lips- 

he tastes warmer than you'd imagined. like bourbon, some sort of sweet - licorice? - and desire as he licks into your mouth fervently, hand roaming down your sides to splay over your ass. you gasp against his mouth once his large hand squeezes your ass; seizing the opportunity, his teeth bite gently on your bottom lip. he leaves you breathless and dizzy. 

yes, this was - this was a bad idea. 

"look at you, hermosa." he mutters as he pulls away, hand splaying over your cheek and turning your head slightly, his eyes coursing over your aching body, searching his friction. something flickers in his eyes as he watches your hips move desperately, his hands squeezing over your waist, "so pretty." 

you flush at his words, the adoration lacing his face as he takes in your mussed hair, stuttering chest. 

"inside-" you start to suggest, breathless with desire, and he nods eagerly, "yes-" and then you're stumbling inside your apartment, a rush of cologne hitting your nose pleasantly as he crowds behind you, hands on your back, sliding low until he's squeezing your ass and groaning into your ear, "drive me fuckin' crazy with these skirts, baby." 

you let out a moan when he's pushed you back against the wall, hands pulling to untuck your blouse from your skirt, lips trailing marks up and down the column of your neck. you scramble to help him undo your top, but he get's too impatient- 

the buttons pop and clatter onto the ground as he rips the blouse open, exposing your lacy white bra; your eyes round as you gasp, "Peña!" you snap, swatting him on his shoulder as he laughs sheepishly, staring at his own mess then back to you.

"I'm sorry." he utters, trying desperately to conceal his smirk as you glare at him, trying to calm your thundering heart because Javier Peña wanted you so bad he just ripped open your blouse. 

he sighs, pulling at your hips until you give in, melting against him, "I'm sorry, cariño, I'll buy you another." he sounds a little more sincere this time as his lips press against your neck again and you help him shuck off the shell of what remains; his hands mould against your breasts instantly, thumb brushing against the bud that peeks through the lace, hardened in arousal. "you're so pretty, baby, it hurts." he mutters, cheeks tinted as he leans in to kiss you again, a warm feeling coursing through you as he slowly undoes your bra. he's always been so dramatic. 

you smile to yourself as you watch him lean down, placing kisses down your chest. 

your stomach coils in desire as he hitches one of your thighs up against his hip, hand sliding down to the strap of your heels; you silently thank yourself for wearing your decent heels - sexy, but professional. his eyes eat you as his fingers slowly undo the buckle on the heel, dropping it to the floor while staring into your eyes.

your heart hammers as he drops your leg in favor of the other, slowly dragging his fingers down your legs to unclasp the other; as you fall down to your true height, he has to stoop over you to catch your lips to his, your teeth scraping as he groans into your lips. your hands hungrily shove his suit jacket off his broad shoulders, tongue pressing against his as he pushes you hard back against the wall. 

you moan gently as he grabs your thigh and hitches it once again against his hip, pressing his length up against your core; the friction is delicious against your aching clit, dull but stimulating. you try to cover it up, "you better buy me two blouses, Javi." you joke. he smirks into your mouth, hand sliding below your skirt to toy with the ends of your stockings.

biting down on your throat as he snaps the stocking against the plush skin of your thighs, he groans, "fuck it- I'll buy you anything you want, just let me taste this pussy." he adds, voice low as he reaches around, fumbling with the zipper on your skirt. 

oh, god.

you help him with frantic hands; soon he's down on his knees, hands sliding up your thighs, clad in your stockings and panties, his breath hitting your heat gently. 

one hand rises up your abdomen to toy with your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple as he hums. you sigh shakily as you stare at him, body electric with arousal.

his eyes are blown wide as he stares up at you, tie loose, shirt unbuttoned and disheveled, hair mussed up from your fingers - the picture of an angel. your heart nearly stops as he leans forward, eyes still on you, and kisses just below your navel. 

your heart pounds as you stand on shaky legs, watching with anticipation as Javi teases you, kissing just around where you want him: your thighs, down to your knees, back up- your waistline - as his lips flutter onto your skin, you have to close your eyes, trying to find your breath because your mouth is screaming at you to say something that could ruin this all.

(yeah, this was a bad idea). 

but he slowly pulls at the edges of your underwear, you're aware of how hot everything is: you're sweaty, in need of a shower eventually. biting your lip, you mutter, "should- do you want me to shower, first? it was so hot out today-" 

any self-doubts that had crossed your mind are thrown out your open window into the night's warm breeze when Javier looks up at you with a face almost offended; as if it were absurd to ask. his hands close possessively over the backs of your thighs as he growls. 

he shakes his head, hands tightening on you so you stay against the wall, "you're not going anywhere. I've been dreaming of this pussy for ages. I'd live here between your legs, hermosa." he mutters, pressing his nose up against your panties, moaning at the damp seat, "so sé buena para mi y deja que te pruebe, si?" 

swallowing dry as your face heats, you nod, fingers brushing hair from his eyes. "si, Javi." 

he nods, "good." 

his thumb rises to prod gently at your pussy, sliding over the damp fabric as you gasp sharply. he lets out a low hum just as his thumb slides to hook your panties to the side, revealing your glistening, aching cunt for him. you watch with a slack jaw as his tongue darts out; a bold, flat stripe up your heat sends shivers through your body, your throat letting out a quick gasp at the desire that rocks through your body. 

"fuck, princesa, you taste so good." he groans, a desperation laced into his voice that you've never heard from him; one more lick spreading your arousal before he's swirling his tongue around your clit, holding your hips down hard into the wall to ensure you can't move away as he groans into you. 

"feels so good, Javi-" you whimper, face hot as he hums, face moving between your thighs as you stand on shaky legs. "what was that?" he teases, biting your thigh softly. you yelp, hands falling to grip his hair, your head falling back against the wall. "sh-shut up," you breathe, grinning with hot cheeks as he chuckles against your heat. 

but then he pulls your panties down your legs, tossing them behind him before he settles back between your thighs; suddenly one of his thumbs is spreading you open more, forcing your legs to spread just slightly, and he's spitting onto your wet heat.

your toes curl in pleasure as you gasp, one hand grasping your breast, thumbing your nipple. your stomach clenches as he leans back into you and works, tongue spreading over your cunt and gathering your arousal from your aching entrance before pulling your clit into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth and sending shocks through you. 

he groans when you tug on his hair; the vibrations from his throat sending a thrill up your spine and you can't help as your hips buck forward, smothering Javi's face and nudging your clit against the ridge of his nose. 

"s-sorry," you mutter, face flushing as he pulls back and stares at you hungrily; he shakes his head, "fuck, do it again." he orders, lips falling back onto you, tongue coursing through your soaked cunt as you buck your hips, the feeling of your clit against the bridge of his nose pulling a sharp gasp from you. 

your words fail you as Javi squeezes your ass, slapping you harshly and causing you to yelp. your hips don't cease their movements; riding his face, the nudge of his nose on your bundle of nerves hurtles you towards the edge of your orgasm, and you start to moan his name louder and louder. 

his mouth works to wind you up, your legs twitching and hands grasping at yourself and at his shoulders, his hair. he eats you up like he's been starved for months, his mouth only leaving you to mutter words into your dripping pussy. it's mere minutes before you're writhing against the wall and Javi leans back, "I can feel you're close, hermosa," he breathes, thumb replacing his tongue as he speaks. your thighs start to close but he holds them open, blinking those large eyes up at you, "need to feel you cum on my tongue, baby. cum." he sounds more desperate than you've imagined even in your wildest of dreams and you nod, your stomach burning with the clench of nearing your orgasm. 

you hit your high merely seconds after his mouth falls back onto you - your fingers in his hair, his name from your lips, chest heaving and back arching off the wall. he moans heavy into you as he laps you up, drinking you in and coaxing you through your orgasm with gentle hands and a silver tongue. 

you're left breathless when he stands back up, your legs as weak as jelly as his hand pulls your jaw forward and into him.

your lips meet his in a sticky, passionate kiss; you can taste yourself on his tongue as you pull his hips against yours, his cock straining through his pants. 

"do you need a minute-" he pulls back to ask as your hands slowly slither down to fumble with his belt; your heart thrums as your body rides the high of your orgasm, but all you want is more, more. 

you don't think you'll ever stop wanting more of Javier Peña. 

this was a really bad idea. 

"-I can get you water-" he tries to offer and your heart thumps at how kind he is, so attentive and caring - but you shake your head, nipping at his lips as you push him backwards, further into the apartment, "no- need you now, Javi, please." you mutter, "water after." you insist, unable to fight the smile that grows as he chuckles against your lips. 

"okay, señorita, whatever you say." he whispers, leaning slightly until he's picked you up and you wrap your legs around his hips, bare, sensitive cunt against the rough denim of his jeans. "but I don't want to hear any complaining, now." he teases, eyes sharp and shining with a playfulness that has you smirking. 

"then you better give me what I want." you counter as he stumbles his way through the threshold of your bedroom, hand coming to the back of your head to make sure he doesn't bump you against the frame. 

"I'll give you anything if you ask nicely." he whispers into your ear, biting your earlobe as you both tumble down onto your mattress, desperately clawing at his shirt and tugging his jeans off until he's splayed above you, arms caging you in as your stocking-clad legs wrap around his naked hips. 

he pushes up, leaning back so he's got his cock in his hand, pumping slowly as he stares at your bare body, splayed out for him. his eyes look ravenous; slowly, he lets his cock rub up your slit, gathering all of your arousal and juices as he rolls his hips.

you hitch your breath, both of your sighs heavenly as they flow through the evening air. there's sweat sheened over his built chest and your fingers slide over his toned arms, lifting yourself slightly so you can look- 

oh, fuck. 

your eyes almost roll back at the sight of his swollen cock, thick and large and lying against the short hairs that curl just above your pussy; he's so big, splayed on your stomach - he's going to be so deep.

your eyes widen as you wonder briefly how he'll fit but then he's humming, "ready, princesa?" 

you nod desperately, clawing at him until he's caged you once again, the tip of him prodding your entrance gently. "yes, Javi. fuck me, please." 

he hums, "dirty mouth," he mutters, "for such a sweet girl." he kisses you just so, his hand brushing hair away from your forehead as he teases you. 

you’re breathless; shivers cascade down your spine at the press of him, slowly breaching your hole and grinding sloooow and smooth into your dripping cunt, aching with desire.

he can’t slide into you, not fully- his cock is too thick, your cunt dripping but still so goddamn tight. the moan he lets out as he inches in slowly is fucking heavenly. "fuck, cariño, you weren't lying-" he mutters, almost shaking with restraint as he slowly eases himself into your tight walls, "-shit, so tight."

you grip his shoulder tight, "t-told you- it's been months," you gasp and he smirks, "thought that was just a line to get me back to your place," he mutters.

as he stills himself, nostrils flaring with focus, you lay a hand over his cheek - his eyes meet yours, something deep and truthful hidden in them. your eyes scream back at him. 

oh, you're fucked for him. this may have been a horrible idea. 

"well maybe I was just waiting for the right person," you speak before you can think- he freezes, you can feel his muscles tense. your mind reels. fuck, you hadn't even talked about what this was between the two of you- a quick fuck, stress relief, or something more- you're fucked. 

but he smiles, suddenly, groaning through squeezed eyes as he shakes his head, "you're going to kill me, cariño." he mutters, one hand falling to your hip, "you're so fucking cute." 

your stomach rolls with butterflies at his words and you hide your face. he has none of that, though, and peels one hand from your face and kisses you sweetly.

the kiss heats quickly as you slide your tongue against his; a strangled gasp leaves your lips when he starts to slide into you more, inch-by-inch, stretching you open and filling you full of him. his head falls heavy against your chest as he mutters, “you're tight, baby, so fucking perfect.”

his voice is starting to slur in pleasure as he soon slides into you fully, sheathed deep. you flutter around him as you accommodate to his size, the feeling of him nearly melting you as he starts to slowly thrust. his hips roll and grind against your clit; you gasp, nails raking down his bare back and pulling a moan from his lips. 

you let out a loud moan, his thickness stretching you and sliding deeper than expected, the tip of his cock kissing against a spot that has you keening. your toes curl and your head falls back as he grinds into you slow, deep.

it's a feeling you've never felt before; you knew Javi had a... reputation, all the women talk about it at your girl's nights and at the water cooler. but you never imagined such bliss as his hands roam you, palming your tits, his lips tracing shapes of affirmation all over your face, chest, hairline.

his voice slips between english and spanish as he purrs praise after praise in your ear- dreamed of you for ages, baby... just like that, yes, take my cock... querida, so good for me...

all you can say is his name; it falls from your lips like it’s the only word you know, his hips soon pistoning into you with fervor, chasing the feeling which coils again in your abdomen. 

suddenly he's grabbing at your hips, lifting you slightly as his legs slide under you and you're flipped up, straddling him, sitting on his cock as your legs wrap around his back.

you feel one of his own sturdy thighs prop up behind you as he lets you gather your breath; a whimper of his name has him nipping at your bottom lip. 

"shh, querida I know, feels so deep, doesn't it?" he mutters, kissing your lips as you slowly start to rock your hips, bouncing slightly as Javier's hands roam up your spine, one squeezing your ass as the other tugs your hair. 

"fuck," you moan, "you're so big, Javi-" he groans at your words, his own hips thrusting upwards and hitting a spot inside you that has you screaming; he leans back, staring up at you as you stare down at him with lust-filled eyes. his hand falls to lay against your stomach and your eyes follow his, where you can see the slight movements of him deep inside you- 

christ. 

you moan at the sight, the thought - he's so big all the way inside you - he's tugging you closer to him, until you're chest to chest, lips pressing hard against the other. 

the sounds of you and Javi's bodies together echo through your apartment; your head lulls to the ceiling as you let out a languid moan, the spot he's hitting making your eyes roll back. you can feel your cheeks hot and heavy as you whimper in desire; you're so goddamn close again, you know he can feel it. 

"shit-" he groans, "y'close?" he mutters and you nod frantically, the pleasure coiling dangerously fast. 

"been months, hermosa?" he groans into your ear as he meets you halfway with his thrusts, your breath punched from you with every kiss to your g-spot, "this what you wanted, hm? this feel good?" 

he’s always had you wrapped around his finger, and he fucking knows it. 

you sigh in ecstasy, unable to form full sentences as he hits the delicious spot inside you that nearly makes you pass out: "yes, J-Javi- so good, so good-"  your hands hold him as close as possible, his warm chest against yours.

the crest of your orgasm tingles your thighs, your toes curling and legs shaking as you start to stutter; he moans heavy- he's close, too. his thrusts are getting slower, sloppier. his movements are soon desperate and deep as yours are; his tip kisses your cervix and your body jolts up with each movement of his pubic bone against yours.

"you're perfect- fuck, need you to cum, baby-" he starts, desperate as one hand holds your neck, the other on your ass, tight enough to leave marks. "cum on my cock, hazlo ahora mismo mi amor, please-" 

he's rushing, desperate as you moan, his words throttling you hard towards the edge. 

you see colors when you hit your high. your orgasm explodes as you flutter around him, pulsing, moaning, your body shuddering as you slow your movements on his lap, unraveling around his touch. your voice is broken, mutters and whimpers of his name drifting through the room.

your thighs are soaked with your own spend and your cunt grips him like a vice; he can't help but kiss your open mouth as he milks you through your orgasm, muttering soft grunts in your ear. "that's it, baby. there y'go, so pretty, querida." he kisses the column of your throat as his thrusts slow to deep, long thrusts. "atta girl." 

his slow thrusts are splintered by his voice, "sh-shit, 'm gonna cum." he sounds almost desperate, his body so close to yours it's almost like he's trying to smother you. he groans your name in a broken sound; his grip tugging your hair. as he lifts you slightly, pulling out just in time for him to paint you with his cum. 

his seed covers your lower stomach, his groans deep and breaths quick as he moans, brows furrowed. your heart slams at the sight; Javi, pushing you down onto the mattress as he pumps his release onto your chest. 

his head tilts back, a look of complete bliss on his face, brows tight as his abdomen muscles tense and flex. his arms, toned in the soft light of your bedroom, glow. christ.

okay, not a bad idea. a fucking dream.

he slumps onto you after a second, moving so that he doesn't crush your chest, pulling you tight against his own hot skin. you feel his smile grow against your neck and the butterflies that grow in your chest swirl out of control. 

you smile, too.

you catch your breaths in silence while he places kisses sweetly over the marks he made earlier, your hand smoothing down his back, to the curve of his ass, and back up. 

once his breath is back, he kisses your cheek and stands, stretching his bare body, unashamed of the open window across the room.

you smile, face hot as he smirks at you, his eyes raking over the cum that paints your skin, before walking towards the kitchen. you sigh, lighting a cigarette that you dig from his jeans as he comes back into the room to wipe you clean, handing you a glass of water. 

you smile at that, shaking your head as you hold the cigarette up to his lips, watching as the ember lights up the dark of his mustache and the light in his eyes. there's smile lines around those eyes; it makes your stomach flip.

once you've both drained the glass of water, he pulls you back down to his chest, relaxing against the mattress. 

"well, that was probably the worst decision you made all day, hermosa."

his voice is teasing, but there's a flicker of doubt that crosses his eyes that you know all too well. your heart flips as you shake your head gently, hands cupping his cheeks. 

"this was the best idea I've had in weeks, Javi." you smile softly, pecking his lips gently. 

when you pull away, his smile is so soft you almost want to photograph it. something in the air is sweet when the two of you silently realize that he's going to stay the night; he pulls you up into his chest, kissing your hair while you listen to his racing heart.

he doesn't say anything after that - he doesn't have to. 

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

taglist and requests for javi are open.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

#javier pena fluff #javier pena #narcos #narcos smut #narcos fanfiction #javi peña x reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fic

[whorediaries-09]

girl here's ur request again bc you probably lost it in the amazing algorithm of tumblr. i still do it for you, babe 🩷 sirius black x reader fic with somnophilia and choking? pretty please with a cherry on top? also, WE MIGHT JUST GET AWAY WITH THIS RELIGION'S IN YOUR LIPS EVEN IF IT'S A FALSE GOD

i didn't loose your previous request(s) my love, i was planning to post them on the valentine's week. anyways that is quite beside the point because imma write this one too. enjoyy.

streets;

pairing- sirius black x reader warning(s)- 18+ content. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- set during ootp, cause i CANNOT resist dilf sirius 😔. sorry not sorry haha.

the slut club

no final fantasy, can we end these games though? you give me energy, make me feel light weigh

it was a nefariously lustful dream. you grinded against the hard object that provided you the friction against your pussy. a sinful sleepy groan left your mouth. you could feel the hotness creep under your skin as you felt your stomach tug with the familiar coil of ecstasy. you felt yourself arch against nothing, trying to let the coil boiling inside you snap, drive you to an edge of insanity.

it the fire in your nerves felt more real than a dream. it was like a consuming blue flame. you could feel the warmth of the musk infused breathe on your neck. you could feel the rough callousness of his hands across the skin of your thighs. you could feel the cold metal of his rings slide across your hot skin, rubbing over your inner thighs. it felt too real to be a dream.

'open your pretty eyes for me love, i need to see your eyes when i make you cum,'

your eyes fluttered open, when it finally dawned upon you. you met the gray eyes you'd been dreaming about. you met the warmth of the body you'd been wanting. you met the touch you'd been dreaming about. you met the one who's name rolled off your tongue with the sweetest sin of pleasure.

'sirius?' you asked, fazed, as his fingers roamed on your clit through your underwear. he leaned closer to you, simultaneously pulling you closer, shuffling on your sheets, barring his pearly white teeth. his knees locked themselves on the either side of your waist, keeping you in place. he took out his fingers from between your thighs, sucking his digits off your arousal. that earned him a guttural moan from your mouth.

'i've heard you moan my name so many times before. when you get your pretty mind dumb with dirty thoughts and play with yourself,' he said, a glimpse of malice in his stormy gray eyes. your heart burned in anticipation. the line between your dreams and reality crashed, when he wrapped his hands around your waist, manhandling you to sit on him, your knees on the either side of his hips.

you felt his growing erection through his pants on your wet core. his well defined pectorals had intricate designs of tattoos inked upon traced thin lines of healed wounds. the thin strands of gray hair hidden between raven locks reflected under the moonlight.

heinously, he grabbed your throat, his fingers pressing lightly on your arteries. he pulled you closer, so your mouth was in line with his lips. he smiled coyly, as if mocking you.

'tell me what you want,' you whimpered as you felt him buck his hips your clothed core. hotness of euphoria lust crept under your skin. he brushed his lips with yours, increasing the force on your artery with each passing second.

'i need you to fuck me,' you whispered. the embarrassment of the situation had dissipated. it was just the bubbling covet of bliss which simmered into every inch of your body.

so when he captured your lips with his teeth, dissolving you into his very soul, devouring you while ripping apart your underwear, your head was fazed. your fingers tugged at the waistband of his pants, freeing out his cock. he pushed himself inside you, stretching you out perfectly, causing a broken moan for him to swallow. he increased the force on your throat, blocking your supply of oxygen.

he thrusted into you, blurring the lines between the real and the fake. the summer air cooled upon your hot skin, as the hair on his pelvis rubbed on your clit. you felt yourself melt with his touch as he thrusted into you. he left your lips, a string of saliva connecting your kiss bitten lips.

you chanted his name like a fucking mantra, your moans and whimpers broken by the force of his hand around your throat. the cool metal of his rings contrasted against your hot skin. you lost yourself into cloud nine, in his heaven like eyes. he was a drug, a dream an overdose of sinful heaven.

it was sweetness and danger, when you felt the coil of orgasm bubble inside you again. your mind was dizzy with the lack of oxygen. you rolled your hips, as his cock hit your sweet spot just right. the scream got caught in your throat, and you rolled your eyes. you felt your toes curl, and thighs shake as your euphoric pleasure hit you. you clenched your walls around his cock, releasing your juices on his stomach.

he pounded into you, his hand leaving your throat, as you came down from the high, your lungs savoring in the supply of air. you hid your face into the crook of his neck, sinking your teeth into the soft flesh. you heard his soft gasps and felt his cock twitch inside you. you rolled your hips, urging him to release himself inside you. he bit your shoulder, as he came, painting your insides with hot ropes of cum.

the final fantasy had melted into a reality, as you fell beside his heaving body, your thighs slick and sticky.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black smut #the marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders era #sirius black thoughts #sirius black x oc #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanart #sirius being sirius #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #fanfiction #james & peter & remus & sirius

[abyssruler]

r/HowTo: ask my crush out

pairing: xiao x gn!reader

summary: xiao has been crushing on you for the longest time, so he does what any normal person would do and asks strangers online for for tips on how to ask his crush out. you, being the troll that you are and not knowing his identity, deliberately give the guy on your subreddit bad advice.

word count: 2.3k

note: a lil something because i think modern au xiao is the kind of person who goes to reddit and asks for input on every little thing. can be seen as high school or college au. kinda ooc xiao but idc. comedy!

r/HowTo

posted by Alatus01

How do I ask my crush out like a normal person?

I’ve been friends with them for some time now and I’ve only noticed how much I really like them. They’re nice and funny, even if they can be a little mean, but even that meanness is something I like about them. Just the other day I saw them laugh in the middle of drinking, snorting out water from their nose, and I still found them attractive. I think I’m in too deep.

I can’t really keep this bottled up anymore and I want to tell them how I feel but I’m scared they won’t reciprocate and it might ruin out friendship. Can anyone help?

Snickering to yourself as you saw one of the recent posts in your subreddit, you quickly typed out a response. No way you were gonna allow anyone else to get laid before you, even if it was a complete stranger from the internet.

yn-yournuts:

you just have to make sure they like you back. have you tried the scent method?

You tap your fingers as you waited for the guy, Alatus01, to reply.

Not even a few minutes later, a response shows up to your comment.

Alatus01:

What’s the scent method? I googled it and nothing showed up.

Because it was a thing you completely made up.

yn-yournuts:

it’s the thing where guys lean in super close to the person they like and inhale their scent. you then gotta tell it straight to the person’s face what they smell like and that they smell nice

Which would then result in them either being slapped or labeled a creep. You know you would physically throw hands with anyone who tried to get in your personal space, then said how much you smelled nice.

Alatus01:

Okay, thanks. I’ll try that sometime.

You log out, satisfied with your work.

✧

As you’re walking down the hallway with Xiao, he suddenly stops. Turning to him curiously, you ask why he stopped.

He’s looking at you with trepidation, mouth pressed in a thin line like he’s about to vomit. Worried, you begin to take a step forward, but he beats you to it by leaning his face close to you, so close that you can feel his breath on the skin of your neck.

“X-Xiao?!”

Your mouth feels dry all of a sudden. You hear him intake a deep breath right beside your pulse, and you hope he doesn’t hear how hard your heart is beating.

When he pulls away, his cheeks are red and he’s unable to meet your wide eyes. “You… you smell nice.”

At your slack-jawed response, he turns an even deeper shade of red and turns around and practically runs away.

Kokomi, who watched the entire thing nearby, walks up to you and places her hand on your shoulder. “Hey, are you okay? That thing Xiao did just now was—”

“Hot,” you blurt out, eyes dazed. Xiao said you smelled nice—Xiao! He said you smelled nice!

You think if you died today, you’d have absolutely no regrets.

She looks at you like you’ve got a few screws loose. “I was going to say weird but okay.”

You grab her shoulders and shake her hard, an almost manic look in your eyes. “He said I smelled nice! That means he must like me back, right?!”

“Yeah, maybe…” Kokomi agrees, not having the heart to burst your bubble and say how much your crush has blinded you. If it were anyone else, like Childe, you would have knocked his teeth out for even breathing the same air as you did.

✧

Alatus01:

Update: I don’t think the scent method is very effective.

yn-yournuts:

it’s probably bc you didn’t do it right. how about you try asking them to see a movie? there’s one showing now called ‘pallad’s adventures’ and i heard it’s effective for couples

It was not, in fact, effective for couples. The movie was rated 1/10 and many on social media were calling it a waste of a budget. You saw one of your classmates, Albedo, posting a ten page essay on why Pallad’s Adventures deserves its horrible reviews and why it should be removed from theaters as soon as possible. A little too harsh on a few wordings, but for the most part, he was right. The director would probably cry himself to sleep if he read the essay.

Alatus01:

But I heard it was a bad movie?

yn-yournuts:

that’s cuz those couples only want to gatekeep it from us single people. i heard from a friend of a friend that it wasn’t really that bad

Another lie. Hu Tao watched it with Yanfei and said it was worse than bad.

Alatus01:

Alright. I’ll give it a try.

Oh, this poor innocent guy. At least after the movie, he’ll have learned his lesson on not taking advices from trolls on the internet. You tell yourself this is you educating another person on internet awareness, but really, you’re just bored and in need of good entertainment.

✧

“I bought tickets for that show called Pallad’s Adventures. If you’re free tomorrow, do you want to go watch it with me?” Xiao asks you after class.

You’re so shocked by his words that you accidentally drop all your books.

You don’t even care that he invited you to watch that horrid movie, Xiao was asking you to watch a movie with him! Just the two of you! You’d have to be dead before you even think of saying no to him.

He hurriedly bends down to pick up your books and hand them to you, a downcast look to his eyes. “It’s alright if you don’t want to—”

“No!” You yell, startling him. You press your books close to your chest. “I mean, I’d love to watch the movie with you! I was just a little surprised.”

You can see him visibly relaxing his shoulders after your explanation. He then smiles, small and meant only for your eyes. It sends an arrow straight to your heart such that you momentarily forget that you’re about to spend two hours of your day tomorrow watching the most awful movie to date.

“I look forward to it,” he tells you.

But at least you’re spending those two hours with Xiao.

✧

It takes a week before the Alatus01 guy gives you an update regarding his love life, but you were so busy being too high on your unofficial date with Xiao to notice the lateness.

Alatus01:

Update: It went really well. The movie wasn’t that great but my crush invited me to get dinner after, so I think the movie worked.

It was crazy how such a terrible movie could bring people together. First, you and Xiao, and now this guy and his crush. Maybe the movie has some sort of magic to it.

But you’re still kind of annoyed that someone was having a better love life than you. You and Xiao were still only friends while this guy seems like his crush asked him out on a date themself. And you’d deliberately gave him bad tips! It was like the universe was determined to get this guy with his crush or something.

It was time to pull out the big guns.

yn-yournuts:

have you tried sneaking in to their window?

Alatus01:

What?

yn-yournuts:

i heard it was romantic if guys went to their significant other’s house in the middle of the night and woke them up by knocking on their window

Alatus01:

That sounds questionable?

So he wasn’t completely naive and oblivious. Good for him but bad for you.

yn-yournuts:

you lack imagination! haven’t you ever watched the amazing spiderman? peter parker and gwen stacy’s entire thing was windows!

Alatus01:

I don’t think that’s right. And wouldn’t they feel uncomfortable if I show up without warning?

yn-yournuts:

they might, but if they do like u, they’d probably be more pleasantly shocked than anything

A total lie. Even if you liked a person, them showing up at your house in the dead of the night and waking you up from your much beloved sleep was enough to have them on your hit-list.

Alatus01:

Isn’t there a better way to tell if they like me back?

yn-yournuts:

it’s up to you if you wanna take the risk or not. personally, i’d do it, actions speak louder than words. you’ll really be able to tell how much they like u depending on their reaction it

Oh wow, now you’re starting to sound like you’re giving actual good advice. But it’s not like his crush likes him that much that they’ll forgive his little trip to their house so easily, right?

Alatus01:

You’re right. I’ll try it.

yn-yournuts:

that’s the spirit! give me an update once ur done!

✧

After a few days of staying up late to finish long overdue homework and projects, you collapse on your bed and ready yourself for a full ten hour sleep. You’re almost in the land of dreams when a sudden sound rouses you from sleep.

Blearily raising your head from your pillow, you squint through the darkness in your room, trying to pinpoint where that sound came from. Another tapping sound resounds from somewhere. You look over to your left where your window is, just in time to see something hit the glass and make a small plink! sound.

Annoyed at the interruption, coupled with a few days’ worth of sleep deprivation, you rise from your bed and stomp to the window, unlocking the latch and slamming it open. The cool breeze caresses your cheeks as you lean your head out the window, mouth open and ready to yell at whoever’s bothering people in the middle of the night—

Only for all your words die out when you see Xiao standing right below your window, a black hoodie thrown over his shirt and wearing pajama bottoms. He looks sheepish as he lowers the small rock he’d been preparing to throw.

“Hi,” you squeak out.

“I…” He trails off, looking around as if trying to find words to say. “Sorry for waking you up.”

You’re quick to shake your head. “Wake up? Me? Psh, I was just on my phone just now. Haha! Who said I was asleep?”

Relief overtakes his handsome features. You take a mental picture of the sight and store it in your memories.

Leaning your arms on the windowsill, you ask, “What brings you here anyway?”

“I wanted to see you...” Your mouth parts. Xiao is staring somewhere to the left, unable to meet your eyes.

You think your heart is about to combust. The moment is then shattered when he shivers after a particularly cold gust of wind blows. “Come on up here! It must be freezing outside.”

He shakes his head. “I just needed some answers.”

You tilt your head in question. “And did you get those answers yet?”

A look of realization slowly dawns on his face as he gazes up at you, no trace of irritation in your eyes. “Yes, I think… I think I do have the answer.”

With a slightly dazed look, he waves goodbye to you and makes his way to the bike parked in front of your house. You watch him rev the engine up and speed away down the street, something niggling at the back of your head at this strange encounter.

You promptly forget about it the moment your head meets the pillow.

✧

Alatus01:

Update: I think they like me back.

And just like that, you’ve once again failed your mission of sabotaging random people’s potential love lives. This case is probably worse because you actively worked to give them blatantly bad advice that somehow worked out in the end.

This guy’s crush must either be a nutcase, completely in love with him, an idiot, or all of the above.

Fine. You admit defeat. One more person in this world was getting laid before you did. Feeling sour, you type out a response.

yn-yournuts:

congrats ig. now you just need to confess

✧

Xiao pulls you aside after class into an empty classroom, his palms sweaty when they make contact with your arm.

There’s a determined look on his face that turns into uncertainty once you’re in front of him, watching him straighten his back and take in deep breaths like he’s preparing to answer a math test.

And then he utters the words that would have given you a cardiac arrest in another universe.

“…I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time.”

Archons, if this is a dream, please don’t ever wake me up.

You continue to stare at him, the silence hanging between you like an executioner’s blade, waiting to see which side it will swing.

You see him start to shrink into himself, losing confidence the longer the silence stretches on, and without much thought, you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your face into his shoulder. You inhaled. He smells like almonds and qingxin flowers. It was addicting.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he returns your embrace.

Muffled against his shoulder, you say, “I really like you too, so much that all my friends say I’ve lost my sanity. I’ve been wanting to tell you but I didn’t think you liked me that way.”

His shoulders shake with mirth and relief. Then, Xiao admits in a low tone, “…Me too, but someone online really helped me. Their advice was strange, but they always worked out. Like now, they were the one that told me to confess.”

You spend a few seconds sending a mental thank you to that person. They deserve all the riches and blessings in the world.

You didn’t think much on it beyond your initial gratefulness, much too preoccupied with savoring the warmth that radiated from him while he embraced you. So you shelved that little detail for the moment to be checked on later.

“This means we’re dating now! No take backs, Xiao!” You declare loudly.

He nods with a little hum, hugging you even tighter than before.

✧

Alatus01:

update: We’re dating now

And for the first time since you commented on his post, you reply genuinely.

yn-yournuts:

congrats! so happy for you!!

✧

You bolt upright on your bed hours later, realization written all over your face.

Oh Archons.

Is Xiao Alatus01?!

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #modern au #genshin modern au #gn reader

[rinbowaman]

₵Ⱨ₳₱₮ɆⱤ ₮ⱧⱤɆɆ

Whoo hoo lets goooo!

Warnings: stalking, breaking entry, kidnapping, mentions of murder and torture, bullying, harassment, tormenting, indications/implications of rape, detaining, cursing, subtle groping, main character touches themself....i think that's it. let me know if i missed something.

T̞͍̼ͤ͝H̼͍̻ͤ̑͒͌̕ͅE̛͖̼ͫ ̧̝̞̪̯͙̄̈́̆O̩̻̟̥ͯ́͘T͉͕̫̪̬̺̯̽̊̈́̀H̵̥̥̙͔͍̥̳̼̓ͬE̡̞̝̰̒̑͌̎R͈͈̻͈͋̃̕ͅṢ͎̟͓͈̱̖̰͋͠I͉̪̪ͬͧ͜D̥̩̩̼̪͓̗̦ͦ͡Ě̶̟͔̗͆͌

.............

“Yeah, I’ll get a large Americano.”

“Will that be all for you?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the name for the order?”

“Heeseung.”

Unfamiliar with the cultural sense behind his name, the barista displayed a slight look of confusion, while blushing at how handsome he looked as he swiped his card. “He-…..Hee….how do you spell it?” she asks.

“Here.” Taking the cup and the marker out of her hands, all in a rather sudden manner and startling the poor girl, Heeseung took the cap off with his teeth, gently gripping it in place between the two rows of his pearly whites as he drafted his own name on the transparent cup, before issuing it back to the barista. Taking it gently, she blushes even more than before as she looks up and notices that the cap was still in the grip of his teeth, yet his eyes were fiercely wide and somewhat eerie. She became speechless and merely nodded.

“I…um…..we’ll have that ready for you shortly.”

Opening his eyes wider for just a second, he turns his face to the side and spits the cap out harshly as it lands out on the floor. “Great.” He scoffs as he walks over to the side and leans back against the wall of the waiting area.

Standing with his arms crossed, he stretches his neck out as he gleams down from beneath his black baseball cap. With a white tee and a pair of straight jeans, the man’s frame could be made out just slightly as his muscle definition peered through the material of his shirt, yet it was loose enough to remain subtle in its display of his body. He was tall and looked incredibly intimidating. With only the hue of purple in his hair, peeking out from below his baseball cap, no one else dared to look long enough at the man’s face, for the moment he tilted his head back and showed off his shiny beaded eyes, there was an instant chill issued along with his frightening glare.

(Pls ignore the mic. This picture was too fitting bc…well…arms. That’s why.)

“Stop it, please!”

Turning his head over, he witnesses a pair of brute college boys, along with a woman who seemed to be of the same age, all harshly grabbing and pushing a frail girl inside the café.

“Please I told you….I don’t have money.”

“Bullshit.” The female spatted. “Now, you know our favorite drinks, so get in line and get us our drinks.” 

“But…I’m not lying. I hadn’t gotten paid yet, and you took the last of my money…..please. I’ll buy you lunch and coffee as soon as I get paid.”

“Noooo…you can order the drinks, and if you’re really broke then you can stall up the line and maybe make a scene, to distract everyone, so we can go to the counter and take the mobile orders waiting for pickup.”

“Please don’t….I can’t……”

Grabbing the girl by her arm, the much dominant female drags her inside the ladies restroom. The two brutes make their way over to a seated area as they wait.

A few moments went by, and the pair emerged out, only this time, Heeseung noted a change in the submissive female’s hair.

With the short and neat bob cut that she had adorned, with her bangs trimmed right above her brow, he gained a vantage point of the view firsthand, all thanks to his height. There, the poor girl stood with the very top of her head displaying a most unflattering hair style. The top layer of her hair nearly all gone, burnt off, with only an inch length that spiked right up towards the ceiling from lacking length and flexibility.

Flickering a lighter repeatedly and blowing over the top of it, the dominant woman slyly walks over to meet with her two friends, smirking as she takes pride in her work. Heeseung continued to watch, and glared as the three sat at the table, all watching the poor girl as she stood with that atrocious look. With tears streaming down her face, she merely took in her breaths as she stood, trying to gain composure and abide by the trio's demand.

He hated those types of people……the weak…the ones that allowed themselves to be pushed around, never doing anything to strengthen themselves. How annoying. The only thing he hated more than those types, were the spoiled, the sullied, the rich and the greedy, the ones that looked down on the weak and the useless and abused their families influence.....like the three at the table. In fact, he hated them so much......he enjoyed using his toys on them whenever he found himself triggered.

Grabbing his phone, he initiates a conversation with someone…..

Inserting the phone back in his pocket, he turns back to look at the victim, who remained standing a few feet away from the entrance, quietly and faintly sobbing.

“For crying out loud…just get out. The door is like…right there, girl.”

Mentally irked at how the girl remained frozen still, he drafted up the energy to set aside his annoyance and was prepared to confront her on his own and force her to leave, saving her the harassment by the ruffians who clearly made a habit of tormenting her. When all of a sudden…..

"Welcome to *name of your favorite cafe*." the baristas all greet as the young woman enters through the door.

Walking in to the setting, you donned a pair of black leggings with a black low crop, long sleeve to top to match, along with a green baseball cap that kept all your hair bundled up. Entering, you noted the frail stature of the girl before you, yet it hadn’t been apparent that she was upset until you went to walk pass, trying to make your way in the line. Once you were side by side with the younger and much shorter girl, you glanced over and paused in your steps, noting the streams down her cheeks. Taking a closer look, you saw the terrible cut she had on the top of her head, as if her locks were mauled off by an animal. As you observed the top of her head, you smelled the faint scent of burnt hair around her presence.

Overhearing the impudent laughter coming from a table that was across the other side of the café, you looked back at the girl and grew heavy lidded at the sight, unaware that your actions were being watched the entire time, as you had caught the eye of a very intrigued male standing off to the side, a few feet up ahead.

He observed quietly, watching as walked up with grace in every foot step. Your figure was so delicate and divine in the tight athletic wear you donned on, yet your face and hair remained hidden much like his, due to your hat. Yet the moment he saw you look down at the sobbing girl, his eyes widened, and his mouth slightly gasped open at the sight that took place when you reached up and gently took off your cap.

Your long hair falls gracefully and dresses the curves and shape of your breasts, your face was both foreign and enchanting, you were the most amazing thing he's ever seen. You gazed at the line up ahead, not even noticing the tall handsome stranger that was gawking at you off to the side; the moment he had cleared vision of your eyes, he was done, he was sold. He was beyond intrigued. He didn’t know what was happening, but there was something growing inside him that never was there, it was a sensation that instilled a craving in his gut.....he wanted to see more.

Despite all the pretty’s he’s had, where so many women who threw themselves at his feet, none have ever caused this stir of echoing emotions that was eating him alive. Each girl he's ever had, all desperate for just an ounce of his attention, would get but one night of pleasure, and experience the cruelty of his selfish nature as he never bothered to call or message any of them back. To him, they were just pretty little things for him to use, nothing more. He never once developed anything beyond the requirements of his sexual and physical needs, and yet here you are....defying the laws of his physics and mentality……so different….so very different.

You took your cap and gently placed it on the girls head, never minding what she may have felt about in concerns to hygiene, yet it would seem that the abhorred haircut was something that took precedence over the matter of feelings, so you went ahead and gently placed it on top of her head and watched as she turned to look up at you, taking in the soft smile you issued back at her.

With a grateful countenance, the girl began to cry once more as she felt overwhelmed by your kind gesture, in which you nodded softly.

“Care to have coffee with me?” You asked the girl.

Nodding rather enthusiastically, she poked her tiny hands through the overbearingly long sleeves of her oversized cardigan sweater dress and reached for your arm. You took her in and wrapped your arm around her shoulder as you held onto your phone and wallet in the other. Walking up to the line side by side, you issued a stern look over to the ruffians that preserved the table, noting the look of irritation in their faces. Despite their abhorrence of the matter, they remained distant and eventually found that you weren’t going to leave the girl’s side, and end up taking their leave.

“Do you need me to walk you home? Bus station? Or maybe to the train?” you asked.

The girl sipped on her coffee drink and began to converse with you, all the while as you two remained seated. Not once did you notice a pair of eyes had remained glued to you, along with an infatuated smirk.

After waiting at the bus station for the girl’s ride to arrive, you bid her farewell and best of luck before heading home, never knowing of the tall, dark and handsome man that inconspicuously followed you.

He remained distant and unnoticed but kept traces on you as you took your turns, crossed streets, and even went into a boutique for just a moment to pick up some hosiery for the young girl. As it turns out, during your conversation with her, you found out that she was attending the same  college you had graduated from a few years ago, recalling as she told you that she had just started her first year. The idea of a first-year student being bullied broke your heart, so you figured it would be nice to get her a small gift and stop over at the college to pay her a visit, and check up on her.

“She says she likes to wear skirts and dresses a lot, so maybe I’ll get her some assorted stockings. That might cheer her up, oh and another hat, just until her hair grows back.”

Thinking of the girl, you grabbed and paid for the items, before heading back on route to your apartment. Entering the main lobby of the residential building, you stopped over where the mailboxes were located. Placing in your key, you opened the small latch door and reached into the small square opening in the wall that had displayed your apartment number, located on the tenth floor. Peering in as he enters the lobby, Heeseung places his phone next to his ear, giving off the image that he was engaged in a phone call, all the while he sets his sights on your mailbox from afar, never once breaking his gaze from it. It was hard, since he desperately wanted to continue to watch you, yet it was crucial for him to remain staring at your mailbox, just up until you closed and locked it, before making your way over to the elevators.

Maintaining the stare, he walks over to the corner, eyes never leaving the small square. As he breached closer, the placard could be made out at close sight, it contained your apartment number, your first and middle initial, followed by your last name.

1004 First initial. Middle initials. Last name.

Shifting his sights over to the elevators, he walks over and dings in for the next carriage to take him up to the tenth floor.

Arriving on the top level, he walks through the narrow corridor, one side of it displaying tall windows to view the neighboring buildings and open sky. Following the unit numbers of each door that was distanced out from each other rather sparingly, he reaches the end of the hall and there, the last unit remained, apartment number 1004.

Sensing that you were just beginning your day, given that the time was early in the morning, he walks up to your door and notes the structure and design. It was so simplistic and lacked any sense of safety protocol in its feature, how could someone as wondrous as you be so careless to live in a place without exaggerated safety measures?

……..

Within the hour, you showered, got dressed, and munched on an English muffin along with your morning cup of coffee before grabbing your phone and wallet, heading off to work. With your light raincoat swooped over your arm, you gracefully walked over and dinged in for an elevator to bring you down to the floor level, unaware of the male that was lurking from around the corner, waiting for you to leave your apartment.

He waited for a solid twenty minutes, to ensure that you weren’t going to come back in. After noting the time, he breaches your door once more and reaches up to the top to grab hold of a thin strip of aluminum that he had slid in previously, all while you had been in the shower. Sliding it all the way to the inner corner, he bent to hook it over the top ledge of the top of the frame, so that it would remain in place. Based off his experience, gathered from his years of stalking many victims in the past, he knew, that out of human nature, you would never look up and discover the tool as you locked your door. At the most, a person may set their gaze at eye level as they enter or exit, but statistic will show that hardly anyone will ever tilt their head and look up since their eyes naturally are drawn to the knob as they lock or unlock a door.

Unhooking the aluminum strip from the ledge, he slides the piece as it remains in between the door panel and the frame, sliding it all the way down to the locking mechanism above the knob. From there, a simple turn of his wrist and bending the strip at an angle was all it took for the bolt to click over to the opposite side, unlocking it.

Entering, he noted the smell of lavender and orchid blossoms that filled the air. It was so pleasant and airy, so very fragrant. It was as if he was basking in the foreign fields of orchids and lavender in full bloom. Noting your chic and girlish furnishings, he smirked as he walked past your media stand, admiring the soft beige sectional that adorned your living room. Looking over to the TV, he saw some framed photos of family and friends, some of which had contained you posing with them, in which he would pick up and take a closer look.

“Damn she’s gorgeous…..”

He remained quiet until he cleared the apartment of any other inhabitants; roommates or family that may have been living with you, yet much to his delight, there were none. He then took the opportunity to go inside your bedroom, where your bed was nicely made. Sitting on the edge of your queen size bed, he leans into one of the pillows and takes a whiff of the scent, it had smelled just like your hair. It was of roses and chamomile, something that he never knew he would appreciate so much until now.

Standing up, he walks over to your vanity and notes your perfume bottle on display. Taking it, he releases the cap, and sprays it over his wrist to analyze the ingredients that made up the fragrance. It was a subtle scent, yet fresh with a hint of spring florals and just a tinge of fruity sweetness to it. It was heaven to him. Looking around, he opens up a few of the top drawers and finds exactly what he was looking for, your lingerie.

Noting the amount of lace in your collection, he smirks.

“Huh…..she likes lace….my kinda girl.”

Scouting through, he really wasn’t trying to get a pair of your panties, although the temptation was strong. Instead, what he was looking for was something that wasn’t obviously an undergarment, but something that he could always carry around and pull out of his pocket with ease….something like….

“Hmm….this will work.”

Grabbing on to a pair of lace gloves, he takes the right one and drenches it with your perfume, airing it out as he waves it around for a moment before he shoves it in his back pocket. Closing your drawer delicately, he looks over towards your master closet, and takes a peek inside. He flips the light switch on and smiles at the beautiful display of dresses, both flirty and sophisticated, while also admiring the neat display of folded jeans and tee shirts in the open cabinets decorating the wall. It would so appear, that you had a taste of casual chic fashion, yet had invested in sophisticated and elegant attire for work.

Flipping through all the hangers, his fingertips drag against each fabric, allowing him to take in the sensation of what you wear daily. God…..he wondered how you would look wearing something with frills and lace, or cashmere, or this one, a dress made of satin. Your body was literally the peak of ideal femininity, there was no doubt in his mind that whatever it is you put on, you would look stunning in it.

Walking deeper inside the closet, he notes a framed piece that was set on top of the cabinets, leaned up against the wall instead of being hanged up. It was your college degree, from the same college he was attending.

“Wow….she’s older than I am?”

Despite being in his last year of college, Heeseung was intrigued and grew even more fascinated about you. The fact that you were older, though you looked of the same age as him, even younger in fact, was something that only made him grow more obsessed with wanting to see and learn more about you. He continued his exploration and looked for any indicators of a boyfriend, or perhaps a fiancé. To his surprise, there were none.

“Beautiful girl like her….single? That’s just…..that’s insane…but I’m not complaining.”

Aside from seeing no signs of a partner, he was also delighted to see that you didn’t seem to be actively engaged in sex either, there were no forms of birth control nor were there any prophylactics. To be sure, he searched….thoroughly.

“So she’s a good girl then? Or maybe….she’s one of those ball-busting career types? Either way, I dig it.”

The thought of you preserving your body, how tight your womanhood must be from being untouched for God only knows how long, it greatly.......stimulated him.

After he had his fill in exploring your apartment, he exits and discards the aluminum strip. Taking out your glove, he sniffs it before entering the elevator. From that day forth, Heeseung had eventually found out where you worked, where you did your grocery shopping and found out that the café was your favorite spot every morning after working out, precisely at around 7 am. In between his classes, he managed to go out to ‘check’ on you as you made your way around to various spots for lunch or maybe did some quick shopping and run errands. No matter what time of the day it was, he made sure to see you at least once, making sure you were okay, that you were happy and not in distressed.

“There you are baby…..you seem like you’re having a good day today.”

“Hmm….why do you look a bit ticked off? Who pissed you off today? Fuck I wish I knew….I’d make them regret it…….please smile…smile for me baby.”

“Awww….my girl likes pastries….what are those? Macaroons? You like macaroons baby girl?......When you’re mine, I’ll give you the world and whatever you want. How does that sound?”

With all his mental thoughts on you and the constant check-ups, he fell harder and harder, it was unreal to him. He wanted to know and see more….he wanted to hear more….he wanted more.

His approach was well thought out and planned. You didn’t have to know what he had done in the past…even though he hadn’t dipped into his habits since the day he saw you in the cafe, yet the fact remained that he had a closet full of skeletons that he wasn’t necessarily ashamed of, for all those times it brought him relief and was a reprieve for him. But he didn’t want to scare you…he didn’t want you to know about what he did for obvious reasons. All that mattered now was for you to get to know him….as the man who was falling in love with you, despite you being unaware of his existence.

After weeks of stalking and admiring you from a distance, he figured today would be perfect to put his acting skills to the test and “accidently” bump into you, all in the effort to start up a conversation. From there, he would use his charm and tenacity to get by and push through any barriers you would set up, all so he could get in and make you his. He had everything mapped out in a systematic approach…..but he never got the chance to put it to use.

Watching as you were grabbing coffee during your lunch hour at your favorite cafe, Heeseung remained in his car, ready to step out and put his plan to action, yet took a few minutes to enjoy himself as he nonchalantly rubbed his bulge. Staring at the way you moved, the way you smiled, laughed, walked and admired each building as you made your way inside the coffee shop, you looked far too wondrous for him to not touch himself. Gently rubbing his fingers up and down, he took a series of gulps as he became hot and bothered, faintly panting as he leaned into his seat and watched you delicately swing the door open and entered in the building.

“Oh God…..my fucking girl…just…..who are you?....What are you? Where do you come from? What place exists…that makes someone like you?”

Finding his breath stolen by just the sight of you, Heeseung's mind begins to drift off and he wondered how you must feel with him inside you. How your skin must feel pressed against his, and how you must taste like.

"I bet she tastes like candy.....fuck girl....the things you're doing to me....I just wanna...."

*Ding*

Suddenly, his eye catches on to something that snapped him out of his dazed state of passion. There was something.....someone that taking an interest....with you.

"Who the fuck.....?"

Straightening his posture, Heeseung became overly alert as he witnessed the man's head trailing right after you as you walked in, placing no situational awareness in his setting as he stared at you....hard. Nearby, was female who noted your stops and also followed you closely, while occasionally sending a nod to the large man that seemed to be craving you just as much as Heeseung was. It was evident by the way he stroked his chin and gasped his mouth open, while occasionally rubbing his crotch under the table nearby, licking his lips in the process.

"Mother fucker....."

Cursing himself, Heeseung quickly sends a new text to a friend, one who would be able to help him out in this situation. With his focus on the male perpetrator that was eyeing you down, Heeseung spared no effort in taking his sights off him, leaving the female open and unsighted......but not for long.

……..

Setting his gaze back at the man that eluded manners, ones that Heeseung could easily identify…..the behavior display of stalking and tracking, methods that he himself had used to follow you home the first day. However, unlike Heeseung, the large man was sloppy in his technique. He was following too close and wasn’t at all inconspicuous, instead, he was openly staring, walking behind in short distance, and made no effort to distract his intent by any means. It was as if the man was starving for you to the point where he couldn’t control himself. Had he been watching you the whole time? If so…..how did Heeseung not notice? Was he too enamored by you that he grew complacent of your surroundings?

He watched as you walked back into the building of your place of work. For hours, the man stood off into a nearby alley, lurking in the shadows, occasionally dipping into the cafe and sending out messages. No doubt the recipient was that female accomplice of his. Remaining in his car on the other side of the road across the building, Heeseung watched the man like a hawk, clenching his. If only the man wasn't in a public setting, Heeseung would have followed him back to his residence and took care of him before you would even leave work.

"Asshole......fucking leave her alone....I swear if you touch her...."

Widening his eyes and glaring at the man from afar, Heeseung bit down on his lip, puncturing skin.

Finally, after a long night and putting in some overtime, you walked out with your coat and purse in hand, obviously exhausted from the long day. The sun was beginning to set and the street was remote and nearly empty, with only a couple passing by making their way towards the opposite direction.

Walking on the lone street, with the darkness of the night casting in and the streetlights barely turning on, you minded your own when the sound of a female voice reaches out for you.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Turning around to face the female whose voice was in question; you barely got a response out when a sudden cast of solid darkness clouded your vision.

Eyes widening and his heart getting heavier by each second, Heeseung watched as the man cast an empty sandbag over your head and dragged you away to a nearby car. Muffling your screams and taking advantage of your blinded state, he overpowers your quick and panicked movements as you kicked, screamed, and reached above and over your head, banging his face with a closed fist. You put up a good fight, and for a moment, Heeseung watched and a spark of hope ignited in his heart as he jolted forward in his seat, watching as you laid a good solid hit right on the man's nose.

"Yes baby, just like that.....come on baby....hit him again!"

Yet in the end, the man was far too large and managed to restrain your wrist with a single hand as he fully detained you by injecting your neck with a drug that placed you into a deep state of unconsciousness. All the while, the female accomplice walks away with a smug flare.

"I'll fucking kill you.....both of you."

He could have confronted and taken you away right then and there, if only had it not been the presence of patrol units that came the very moment the kidnapper had tucked you into the backseat of his car, appearing harmless as he gets into the driver seat. With the female accomplice nearby til the very end, appearing to be armed with a hidden weapon in her coat pocket, Heeseung had no choice but to wait out for the perfect moment to strike. As much as he hated seeing you handled in such a way, he knew….that in just a little bit, not only would he take out the pent up anger and rage that formulated after witnessing the display of your kidnapping, but you’ll be able to see that it was him that saved you.

“Alright…fucking piece of shit. Let’s go.”

Trailing the man’s car, Heeseung follows and remained every so vigilant in being undetected.

Arriving at the final destination, Heeseung watches as the man’s car turns into a long and narrowed dirt path, straying off into a massive amount of acreage land. Following behind, Heeseung observed as the man parks in front of an old house, with a pair of windows set on ground level, indicating there was a basement. No doubt in Heeseung's mind, just from his own experience with murder and violence, he knew that the kidnapper would have a set up already stationed inside. Carefully observing as the man took your unconsciously limp body inside in such a haste manner, Heeseung felt his body fueling with chaos and a thirst for blood and torn limbs....he was triggered. His veins no longer pumped blood, it was gasoline....fuel.....fuel to burn the fire within his soul to do the very things onto others that not even the worst criminal could ever think of.

Watching the man's movements, Heeseung’s grip tightened over the steering wheel as he rested his chin in the other, a few seconds, he started to tap his fingers along the lining of the wheel before he got out of his car and walked over to his trunk. Opening it, he takes out a crowbar, one of the very many tools he carried…used for breaking entry or….to instill torturous pain on supple flesh. Walking up to the house, he remained stealth and continued to go unnoticed as he peeked in each window. Just as he suspected, while he investigated the basement, he watched as the man brought you in and tied you to a metal prep table, the same ones frequently used in cafeterias.

The moment the man left the room, Heeseung used the crowbar and pry’s one of the windows open, it was a smaller and slim, rectangular sized window, half the size of the standard measurements. Yet he effortlessly slid in, placing all those years of athletic training and dance practice to good use. Gently closing the window upon entry, he scouts the area, ensuring that it was still clear and no sound of movement could be heard on the other side of the door.

Setting his vision on you, he makes his way over to the table and there, for the first time, he got to admire you up close and personal. He got to feel your breathe brush against his nose as he leans in to take a closer look.

“Oh fuck……” he slightly gasped out. He couldn’t believe his eyes, you were far more enchanting up close, especially since he took note that you didn’t have a face plastered with makeup, you had been walking around this entire time with a fresh and youthful face. Leaning in, he gently nuzzles his nose against your ear, not at all concerned about the culprit that brought you to this horrid place, since Heeseung knew, he could take him with his bare hands alone. He could take on anyone if it meant keeping you safe.....and happy.

Shoving his nose in the nook of your neck, he takes a deep inhale of your scent. You smelled just like your perfume, the one he sprayed on your glove and took with him everywhere he went. Standing back and upright, he releases a deep breath as he gently caresses your face. A soft smile, faintly appears as he strokes your cheek, brushes your hair, and rubs your lips with his thumb.

"Just what am I going to do with you? Hmm?.....My beeeeautiful girl......my pretty pretty girl....my sweet girl. You just have a knack for catching stares.....even from bad guys like me and the idiot that brought you here.....don't you? ......Its not your fault though.....you were born so precious.....you don't deserve to be here....you deserved to be loved...to be taken care of....to be spoiled.....I'll show you what that's like after I take care of him, how does that sound?"

…….

Twenty or thirty minutes later, you finally woke up. In a panicked state, you looked around and saw that the room was coated with cement flooring, and was stark empty as it lacked any furnishings, aside from the metal table you were on, and a couple of tall metal tool cabinets. Your breathing was steady, you had done right to remain composed as you tried to figure your way out of this mess........but it all escalated the moment your kidnapper walked in.

Hiding behind one of the tall metal cabinets that was a few feet off to the side from the table, Heeseung listened in on everything the man said to you, which further heightened his rage.

“Go ahead you piece of shit….keep talking…keeeeeeep….fucking…talking.”

Noting your breathing increasing to a panicked state, he peeked over around the edge of the cabinet to look at you. The hopeless expression on our face combined with the deep heaves of your chest and your delicate beauty tainted by the fear of the man before you, it all had shattered Heeseung’s heart to pieces.

“I know baby…I know……don’t worry. I’m not going to let him do anything to you. Trust me....I know him better than he knows himself."

…..

“Oh….I love that look of fear in your face….its the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen…God…you’re perfect aren’t you? And…oh.....keep breathing like that….it makes your breasts look so nice as they rise up. I can't wait to add them to my collection, they'll be my number one."

Hearing the man speak to you in such a manner caused Heeseung to ball his hand into a fist once again. Gripping so tight, his fingernails dug into the flesh of his palm, slightly breaking skin as the residue of thin blood laid dormant under each finger nail.

“Mother fucker….I’m going to tear your face to pieces.”

Watching as the man scattered around, eventually settling on a reciprocating saw tool, Heeseung watches as the man taunts you, further aggravating his rage.

"Oh you piece of fucking shit...don't you dare..."

"Maybe…since I have a tourniquet here, why don’t I just take a piece off your kneecap…that way it’s not taking too much….I need to preserve you for as long as I can so I can enjoy you….savor the moments. I’ll take off a piece…. stop the bleeding and wait for you to calm down and then we can continue…..how does that sound?”

Flipping on the switch, the man held the tool in a steady grip as he placed his other hand over your stomach, preparing to cut into you.

"Hold still, this will hurt only for a little bit....you'll go into shock and well....you wont really feel much until I cut something else off." The man states while displaying an enthusiastic smile. "I can't tell you how much I've been waiting for this moment.....y/n...."

"That right?....."

...................................

The sound of the motorized tool filled the air, yet it was not accompanied by screams of pain or a torturous laugh. You opened your eyes and saw that someone.....was inside the basement......someone other than you and the man who took you.

Heeseung truly did save you, not only from death, but from things that were far worse than death itself. However, the manner of how he did so was….terrifying.

“Well now….what should I take off first, hmm?” Heeseung remarked, mimicking the man's words used earlier to you, only Heeseung's tone was far more eerie and dreadful.

At that moment, what you saw Heeseung did to that man was the most gruesome display of heroism that you’ve ever witnessed. If you could even call it heroism....considering the turnaround wasn't entirely in your favor. When all was said and done, you watched as he came closer to you, hands coated in blood with blotches of it decorating his neck and chin.

He touched you. He caressed you. He whispered into your ear….it was sickening…yet words and tone was sweet and loving, which on the contrary, it only made you more terrified of him. Just what was his deal? You couldn’t make any sense out of his behavior, because as far as you were concerned, the man was a lunatic, yet the way he acted towards you.....it was sadistically romantic and compassionate.

When the words he coaxed and whispered out of his mouth, you realized.......you were saved by an evil man....by another evil man….

“Let me fuck you.”

Twisting and turning around, you screamed and panicked. “Get away from me! Don’t…don’t! Please don’t!” you managed to turn your body over onto your stomach, gaining full sight of the rope that bound your wrists together. With your chest plastered to the table, you desperately tried to untie your restraints, when suddenly you felt the weight of his body softly pressing against you, completely blanketing you from behind.

“Stop! Get…get off!” you turned your face away to the side as you felt him lean in and nuzzle his nose against your hair. Extending his hands forward, he reaches up and grabs on to your wrists, still tied by the rope. Pushing his weight on you, he caused you to become unstable with your movements, leaving you no slack to move. He remains nuzzled against your neck, breathing deeply, releasing the hot vapors of each exhale onto your ear.

“Calm….down….you need to calm down beautiful.”

Breathing deeply, hysterically sobbing, you somehow found yourself calming at the way he issued his words. His tone was calm yet demanding and firm. Somehow, it gave you a sense that he wasn’t going to hurt you…at least not in the same manner as your kidnapper.....but still…..

“I’m going to take you home……we’ll get you cleaned up, and maybe….talk….for a bit? Hmm?” Pushing the hair away from your face, he places a tender kiss on your cheek. Your breathing began to escalate once more as you felt yourself hyperventilating and the sobbing picking back up.

“Hey-heeeey…..calm……down…..you gotta stay calm baby. I really don’t wanna have to knock you out....especially after you just came back to consciousness.”

Upon hearing his subtle threat, you did your best to compose yourself, and seemingly you had succeeded, despite him continuously burrowing his face against your skin, placing soft and tender kisses onto your jawline, your cheek, and onto your neck. He even spoke out, murmuring as his lips remained in contact with your skin, sending out a myriad of tingles and uncontrollable euphoric jolts that found their way to your core, much to your dismay and disliking, yet you found yourself losing the fight against human nature and lost control of your body. What with him displaying the acts of soft tenderness….saving you from torture and death….and showering you with loving words, how could your body possibly physically abstract from his affection? Mentally you remained resisting, yet even that....was starting to break. Feeling desperate, you figured you would try and reach through to him by appealing to the soft and sensitive side he was displaying….

“Please…..please…….please don’t……if all of what you're saying....is real....then please……let me go…..just let me go home….” You softly spoke out in between each sobbing gasp. You did your best to keep yourself calm.

With a suckling kiss on your neck, the squeezing sound of his pursed lips pulling and sucking on to your skin as he gently pulls away bounces off the stark white walls. “You wanna go home baby?”

Nodding frantically, you started to sob harder but did your best to hold it all in, barely. Jutting out each word between your gasping cries, you responded with “Yes……yes! ….Yes…..I want to go home…..please….please just let me go home…..” the last bit of your words died down to an angelic tone of softness as you hung your head low.

“Okay…..come on baby….let’s go home.”

Shaking your head, your gasping sobs escalated for the last time as you found yourself in a verbal trap. “No! No stop! Let go! Don’t! don’t! doooooon’t…….” taking you, dragging you by the waist while you still remained bound by the ropes, he took you. Your screams echoed thought the halls as he led you out of the house and into his car, where he took you…..’home’.

Authors note: oooooh snap!

Taglist: @nshmrarki , @lprww , @baekxo07 , @m7omo @nikstrange @heeshees @moonmoongi @heesitation @heeseung-min @addictedtohobi

#heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #enha x reader #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung fanfic #enhypen hard hours #enha heeseung #enhypen smut #yandere heeseung #yandere x reader #yandere enhypen #heeseung yandere #yandere kpop #dark fics #dark enhypen #dark kpop #dark content #dark fantasy #enha fics #heeseung imagines #heeseung au #enhypen heeseung smut

[celabi]

this a a fact.

scummy scara has no fashion taste other than hoodies and what ever clean pants he can find on his floor. Read: a hoodie he hasn’t washed in six months and a pair of pants that don’t he hasn’t busted a nut in.

he just doesn’t wash clothes. so he just uses foul axe body spray to hide his scummy scent.

like after you start to show interest he washes his clothes now and stopped using axe after he heard you talking shit ab it. now he uses one that by the grace of the gods you love.

you have to dress that motherfucker he couldn’t put together a good outfit if eating you out for as long as he wanted was on the line.

you pick out what he wears bc he asked you to bc “he wants to look nicer” truthfully he just wanted to see what you found attractive. and to get you in his room, in his closet where you might find that little black box with your dirty panties in it.

write a drabble maybe 👉👈

also when i talk ab scummy scara i mean snake bite having wolf cut rocking looks clean on the outside but does the filthiest shit on the inside. fucking cooking for you with his cum. cumming on your toothbrush.

but thats for a different time. any way this is the style i picture him in. he only wears platforms bc he has this need for height.

Jsnsnsnsn omg pls just scara sitting on the foot of his bed while you rummage through his closet, trying to pick out an outfit for him to wear for your date, knowing that if you didn’t, he would show up to the fancy restaurant in a baggy hoodie, sweats, and a pair of flip flops. His knee bounces faster as you get deeper into the closet. There’s clothes thrown messily onto his bedroom floor, all of his shoes (there’s two pairs) are lost somewhere in between the mix as well, and you keep finding some ‘random junk’ just carelessly shoved behind everything, like loose fake nails who you’re sure aren’t his because he shows up to class with badly painted, short black nails, there’s hair ties that have no purpose to him because his hair is too short, and occasionally you’d pull out some loose Pokémon cards.

“Scara… you’re not really giving me anything to work with here.” You mumble, lifting up a band t shirt that has holes ripped on all sides. He slightly leans to the side and views over your shoulder, he gulps. “Uh, yeah sorry, I don’t do much clothes shopping…” ‘she’s getting closer.’ He can feel his heart racing in his chest as you kneel forward and reach for anything else that might be hiding at the back, and he gulps when you quietly murmur a small ‘what’s this?’ as your hand grabs onto something. Oh this is it, you’re gonna see them, he thought he had hid them well, but you’re not even searching for them and you’ve managed to find them already. Oh god, will you scream at him for stealing them? You’re gonna leave him aren’t you. His eyes start to sting, and his hand reaches down to scratch at his leg in fear. This is it, it’s all over, everything he worked so hard for is abo—

“Oh, this shirt looks okay. Here, show me what it looks like on.” You stand up, pat the dust off your knees and hand him a surprisingly clean shirt that you had pulled out from the closet. He blinks, and slowly reaches out to grab it from you. So you didn’t see—? He so thought that his life was over, but maybe you had missed the small box hidden away in the corner, and he’s glad you did. “Yeah o-okay.” His cheeks redden when you watch him pull off the shirt he was already wearing and replace it with the one you gave him, before he tugs at hem and nervously shuffles his feet. “Uh.. so, do you think I look… good?”

“Yeah, you look cute. Come on, let’s go.” You reach for his hand and pull him along, which he makes no complaints about, a wonky smile on his lips while his eyes follow your move, before switching off his bedroom light and walking to the door. Maybe he was so distracted by your complaint that he failed to notice the very box he was dreading you to find opened, with a little pair off panties peeking out from inside. 😱 spoiler u found them whatttt

scara with band tee shirts and chains mwah I love

Anyways he’s so cute I’ll put him in some pink panties and eat him out thanks 🥺

#🍃 — chatting ☆彡 #scummy scara :(

[reasonsmandy]

You Make My Heart Beat

Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by 2 anon — ¹ omg Person A: You always sing that one line wrong *Person B gets "mad"* Person A: But whatever, yours is better with warren PLEEEASE. ² Hi hope your having a good day/night. Anyway I was really in the mood for something where reader is Billy and grahams little sister and is in a secret relationship with Warren. And when Billy finds out hell breaks loose! If you don’t want to that’s fine :)

✧.* summary — Warren has always been a curious case for you, due to the crush he has on you he would always pick on you when other people were around. But when it was just the two of you he was another Warren, what confused you.

✧.* warnings —Warren and the reader being a little more intimate.

✧.* word count — 4.6k

✧.* 🥁 — Warren's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes —writing a teenage love is so cute aaaaaa. I put these two asks together bc they fit my idea, I hope that's not a problem 🫶🏾 good reading my loves.

In Pittsburgh things were always very simple, you had your routine, you knew everywhere, and so did most people. But that never stopped you from always being curious about other people and wanting to get closer to them, which is why you became so close with your brother Graham's friends.

Eddie was the first to fit in with you, you took your time to become great friends, Chuck was always nice to you, you weren't great friends like Eddie but he never gave you reasons to complain about his presence, as for Warren... He was always a curious case.

When your brothers had the idea of ​​forming a band, well, when Graham had the idea of ​​forming a band after having his heart broken... You were the first to be the most supportive. You knew your brothers and the potential they had in terms of music, they were pure talent for sure, so soon you had become the band's little manager. Helping them to get some gigs around town, talking to event owners about payment, even fliers you put up around town to help them out while they rehearsed in Chuck's garage.

So little by little this had become your official position in the band, you were always there listening to news about their ideas regarding new songs or changes in instruments and passing all these updates to the small fanbase they had in Pittsburgh.

Because of that you loved being there at rehearsals, to be able to speak with propriety about the songs they are rehearsing, about their performance as a band and honestly being the biggest fan of them. And as you were always there at rehearsals your friendship with everyone grew, you had your relationship with each one of them in a special way.

Chuck and you weren't much for talking, but when that happened you liked to talk about the movies you liked in common, he had extremely similar taste to yours when it came to cinematographic works, and therefore the conversations flowed in a nice way.

Well, with Graham and Billy nothing has changed. you grew up in the same house under the same rules, so even though with time you grew up the sibling relationship hadn't changed drastically. You were always closer with Graham, as you two are close in age, you spent more time together since after Billy had grown up and got "too nice" to hang out with his younger sister.

That phase of Billy where he left you in the corner was difficult for you, out of nowhere a person who was always your support didn't want you so close anymore and that messed with you, but over time you learned to deal with it and look for other people who really wanted you around.Even after years where you are now adults, your relationship with your older brother never went back to the way it was before, and not because you had a grudge against him or anything like that... But things just had changed.

Eddie and you didn't let each other go, you were the dynamic duo, just the perfect friendship pair. You both knew that there was nothing romantic between the two of you, much less a feeling that could grow between you, that was out of the question since you considered each other soul brothers. Without much effort, you became best friends and that's how it persists until today.

Warren was a special case, you never knew how to define your relationship with the drummer in an objective and clear way, because your relationship was far from being like that. That doesn't mean it wasn't a good relationship, the perfect definition would be: confusing.

Although he was one of the people you most wanted to be around, you only had that opportunity when they created the band, and at first it was quite difficult to be alone with Warren without any band member to butt in or disrupt the moment. And for some reason, different from the other boys you couldn't start a conversation with Rojas, because you felt embarrassed and shy around him, it was like he bewildered you.

You'd already watched Warren from afar at school, and how could you not have? He's just charming…

"Hey Y/N, today we're having a rehearsal at Chuck's house, do you want to hang out there with us?" Graham screams at the bottom of the stairs, and you can easily hear him in your room.

"I'm coming down! Wait just a minute." You ask, quickly packing your things to accompany him.

The Dunne brothers walked towards Chuck's house, while talking about random things from their day. Graham was the one who talked the most, he was very excited to show Billy all the band's ideas, the older Dunne would just say "hm" or nod between Graham's lines, which genuinely made you uncomfortable. So, you decided to be the one listening to him, asking him to tell more about his ideas and commenting about everything, adding your ideas and congratulating him for his.

Graham Dunne: Y/N is that kind of person who will do anything to make you feel comfortable around her. I swear to you, she would listen to me talk about the most boring things in the world for hours just to see me happy.

You didn't walk far until you arrived at Chuck's house, Eddie and Warren were already there talking until they noticed your presence. As soon as Warren sees you, he playfully rolls his eyes and mumbles

"Oh great, the kid sister is here." Warren says, while fixing his curls.

You give him a confused look, but he avoids eye contact and pretends to focus on adjusting his drum set.

Eddie, on the other hand, walks over to you and greets you with a warm hug.

"Hey there Y/N, good to see you again!" he says with a smile. You chat for a few moments until Billy calls over to start rehearsal.

As you walk past Warren to sit on the chair you always used to sit on practice, he can't resist making another teasing comment.

"Try to keep up, kid" he says with a smirk. "Maybe if you try hard you can understand at least a little bit."

You roll your eyes and shake your head, but can't help but feel a little flustered by his attention. Warren always made this kind of comment since the beginning of the band, was it something commenting on your age or always teasing you about something you like.

Eddie Roundtree: He was clearly trying to get her attention, he didn't leave any gaps, no matter what Y/N said or did he had to comment on something.

Rojas already had feelings for you before you got close, an intense infatuation that made his heart race every time you looked back at him and smiled. He didn't know how to act on this new feeling about you; you'd always been his best friend's sister and nothing more. But when they started the band, and he started seeing you daily at rehearsals, that little crush grew more and more into a passion.

As a defense mechanism, he started to tease you with everything. He felt nervous around you and used teasing as a way to break the ice, hoping to impress you with his humor and wit. He didn't know why he was acting this way, but when he saw your eyes going towards him, it was an inexplicable feeling. Like an idiot teenager, he just wanted the attention of the girl he liked, and if that was what made him get it, he would keep doing it.

That day after rehearsal, you and Warren find yourselves alone in the garage. The rest of the band has gone out to grab food, leaving the two of you behind. You start to pack up your things, but Warren stops you.

"Hey," he says, leaning against his drum kit. "Can we talk for a minute?"

You turn to face him, surprised by the sudden seriousness in his tone.

"Sure, what's up?" You ask, playing with your hands, you were nervous.

"I heard you say you had a rough day at work..." He starts to say and you arch an eyebrow.

"Are you listening to the conversations of others Mr Rojas?" You question in a playful tone, laughing afterward.

"I'm sorry..." He says, laughing sheepishly. "I just wanted to know if you're okay, if I can help with anything…"

You can't contain your smile, this was definitely not something you were expecting from him, you approach the drummer and he avoids looking directly into your eyes, you notice that your presence makes him nervous for some reason and you like that.

"I guess you can just distract me with anything." You smile at him. "How about showing me that beat Billy wouldn't let you put on? I know you were excited about it."

Warren smiles at being close to you and then spins one of the sticks in his fingers to start playing, he involuntarily played the best way he could to impress you that day.

...

Over the years, you had grown accustomed to Warren's teasing and jabs. It was a familiar routine, and you even found yourself missing it when he wasn't around. But there was something different about him when you two were alone. He was more attentive, more thoughtful, and more interested in you as a person. He would ask about your day, your hobbies, and your favorite bands, and he always seemed genuinely invested in your answers.

At first, you didn't think much of it. You assumed that he was just being friendly or maybe trying to make up for his teasing. But as you spent more time together, you started to notice how your heart would flutter when he touches your arm or leaned in close to hear you better. You tried to ignore these feelings, to convince yourself that you were just reading too much into things, but the truth was hard to deny.

…

One day, while you and Warren were hanging out alone in Chuck's backyard, you were sitting on the grass talking about your favorite bands. The sun was shining, and a gentle breeze was blowing, rustling the leaves of the nearby trees. Warren seemed relaxed and happy, tapping his foot to an imaginary beat.

Suddenly, Warren jumped up and ran towards thr garage, calling for you to follow him. You got up and followed him inside, the smell of oil and sweat hitting your nose. To your surprise, there was a drum set set up in the middle of the room, surrounded by guitars and amps. Warren picked up his drumsticks and started playing a beat, motioning for you to join in. You hesitated at first, but then you sat by his side and started to sing along, your voice blending with his in a perfect harmony.

For the next few hours, you played music together, experimenting with different sounds and rhythms. You forgot about time, space, and all the worries that usually plagued you. You felt alive, free, and unburdened, lost in the music and the moment.

As the sun began to set, you stopped playing and sat down on the couch, exhausted but exhilarated. Warren turned to you and smiled, his eyes shining with something you couldn't quite name.

"You know, I always feel like I can be myself when I'm playing music with you." He said, his voice low and husky. "It's like everything else just fades away."

You smiled back at him, feeling a warmth spreading in your chest.

"I feel the same way, Warren." You said, your voice soft and sincere.

You sat there in silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company. Your heart was beating fast, and you could feel the tension in the air. You looked into Warren's eyes and saw the same intensity that you were feeling.

He leaned in closer, and you could feel his breath on your face. His hand brushed against yours, sending shivers down your spine. You took a deep breath and opened your mouth to speak, but before you could say anything, Warren stopped you with a kiss.

His lips were soft and warm, and you melted into his embrace. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You could feel his hands on your waist, pulling you tight against his body.

For a few moments, time seemed to stand still. You were lost in the sensation of his lips on yours, the feel of his hands on your body. You knew that this was what you had been longing for, what you had been missing all along.

When Warren finally pulled away, you were left breathless. You looked into his eyes and saw the same longing that you felt. He smiles still looking into your eyes, you lean to kiss him one more time but you are interrupted by Eddie's voice calling for you two from afar.

…

The problem was that Warren didn't act the same way around other people. When your brothers or the rest of the band were around, he would fall back into his old patterns of teasing and joking, and it made you feel insecure. Did he only treat you well when no one else was watching? Did he actually like you, or was he just being nice?

These conflicting emotions weighed heavily on your mind, and you found yourself thinking about Warren more and more often. You started paying closer attention to his body language and the way he looked at you. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that you might have feelings for Warren too.

Despite your doubts, Warren continued to act differently around you when you were alone. He would bring you your favorite snack when he knew you had a long day at work, or surprise you with a new album from your favorite artist. These small gestures made your heart swell with affection, but you couldn't help but wonder why he couldn't be this way in front of others.

…

Today the rehearsal was at the Dunne house, you were in the kitchen with your mother listening to them play in the distance, you were talking about your day at work and about some things in your day. Billy was singing "look me in the eye", your favorite song of theirs, excitedly you get up asking your mother for permission to go see them play one more time.

You make it in time for the chorus to start, you enter the garage already singing, you raise your fist to your face imitating a microphone while singing, Eddie smiles when he notices you, Graham laughs of your "performance", Billy rolls his eyes then smiles (he probably knew you were coming to listen), Camila was filming them and soon turns her camera towards you.

Warren felt butterflies in his stomach when he saw you, you looked so beautiful he just wanted to hold you and kiss you but he couldn't do that. So he holds back his smile when he sees you, trying to ignore your presence he ends up getting the timing of the song wrong. Billy turns to him, clearly annoyed.

"Let's take a coffee break." Billy says, turning off the microphone and taking a seat next to Camila.

"Will you stop right at my favorite?" You say, pretending to be sulking. "Very unfair!"

Warren comes out from behind the drum set, taking a seat on the couch next to Eddie and Graham.

"How come this is your favorite if you always sing that one line wrong?" Warren points out, laughing along with everyone but Camila.

If that comment came any other day you'd laugh along with them, but it struck all of your insecure thoughts about how the drummer really felt about you, you immediately frowned. And he noticed that, immediately he regretted what he said, for the first time you looked upset with him and he hated to see that.

"But… whatever, yours is better anyway." He ended up trying to make you smile, but when he saw that his favorite smile wasn't on your face, his heart sank.

You force a smile so that the atmosphere doesn't get awkward, a silence was established in the place but soon Eddie brings up a subject noticing that you wanted to escape this situation, you smile at him for saving you like that. As the conversation grows you take the opportunity to sneak out of the garage back to your room with frustration in your chest, damn be the moment you fell in love with that drummer.

You were lying in your bed, staring at your bedroom ceiling with your thoughts racing, insecurities slowly eating you up with absurd suggestions as to why Warren behaved like this.

"Hell, why do you have to be so fucking complicated?" You ask the wind, feeling a great deal of frustration with the drummer.

Your thoughts are interrupted by three knocks on the door, you take your gaze to the door that was now ajar, you can see Warren with a worried face. He was afraid of how you were feeling, afraid that he had hurt you anyway.

"What do you want? Have you come to mock me here in my room now?" You were upset, and he didn't blame you for it.

"Can I come in?" You couldn't ignore him even if you wanted to, so you nod. "Look, I'm sorry…"

"I don't understand you, you know?" You sit up to look deep into his eyes. "What do you have with me? One minute you treat me like I'm the most special person in the world and the next you just ignore my existence."

Warren drops his gaze, he was hating himself for making you feel bad anyway.

"I like you Warren, fuck I'm in love with you but you confuse me!" You were holding back some tears, and it made his heart squeeze. "So, I ask you please... Tell me, what do you want from me?"

Warren plucked up the courage to look you in the eyes, he brought his hands up to cup your face caressing your cheeks gently. His touch made you feel butterflies in your stomach, his gaze was so intense it made your heart race.

"I love you so much Y/N..." Rojas confesses, his brown eyes seem to see through you. "I've loved you since I was a stupid teenager and that's why I might have been a jerk to you, I clearly didn't know how to act in the presence of a woman as wonderful as you, I wanted your attention and that was the only way I could get it."

You listened to him attentively, trying to understand his position regarding everything that had happened between the two of you so far.

"Now we're adults, there's no reason for me to act this way I know..." He says, now holding your hands. "But there's a lot at stake here, you know? I don't mean to say that it's not worth risking things for you, in fact there were times when all I wanted was to send my fear of your brother's reaction to hell."

You laughed weakly at the last comment, little by little that weight of insecurities left you as he told how he felt.

"I just wanted to make sure none of this affected you negatively, I didn't want your relationship with your brothers to be damaged by something I did." He confesses, you quickly cut him off to clarify something.

"Everything would be so much easier if you had told me this before, pretty boy." You say taking one of your hands to his hair strands. "I know Billy can be... Intense at times but I would help you work things out."

"I just need to make it clear to you that my heart is yours, and this may sound extremely cliché but I feel that you make my heart beat." You couldn't contain your smile. "Please forgive me for being a big asshole to you, I didn't want to hurt you in any way, my love."

You don't answer, you just kiss him deeply in the intention of solving all the questions between you. He gently pulls you onto his lap, holding you close like he's afraid of losing you every second, you keep kissing him while stroking his hair, his hands caress your skin under your shirt and you sigh with the contact making him smile in the middle of the kiss.

You part your lips from his, a smile spreading across your face as he brushes the hair from your eyes. The way he looks at you makes you feel like you're the only person in the world.

"Is rehearsal done?" you ask, flashing him a mischievous grin.

"I'm not sure," he shrugs, "Camila and Billy took off somewhere, but I wasn't really paying attention. I was too worried about you."

You roll your eyes and laugh, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest. "And what about the others?"

"Eddie, Chuck, and Graham are still in the garage," he whispers, his breath hot against your cheek.

"So that means I have you all to myself?" you say, your smile growing wider and more playful.

You trail your fingers down the front of his shirt before lifting it up and over his head. His eyes follow your every move as you toss the shirt aside. You lean in to kiss him again, your lips soft and warm against his skin. He shivers under your touch, his hands finding their way to your waist and pulling you closer to him.

"I believe so, Hermosa," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as you continue.

You keep kissing his neck, feeling his pulse racing under your lips. The atmosphere between you two is electric, filled with passion and desire that had been building up for far too long.

Warren's hands wander up and down your back, feeling the curves of your body. You can feel his muscles tense and relax with every touch, his breath hot on your skin.

You pull back for a moment, looking into his eyes. They're filled with so much love and adoration that it almost takes your breath away. You can't help but smile, feeling your heart swell with emotion.

"God, I love you," he whispers, pulling you in for another kiss.

Your lips meet again, this time more urgently, as if you're trying to make up for lost time. You run your fingers through his hair, tugging gently, making him moan into your mouth.

It's like nothing else matters in that moment, just the two of you, lost in each other. You feel his hands slip under your shirt, trailing up your back, making you shiver with pleasure.

You finally break the kiss, both of you gasping for breath. Warren leans his forehead against yours, a smile on his lips.

"I never want to let you go," he whispers, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

"I don't want you to." You answer, still out of breath. "Come on Rojas, I'm all yours."

…

In a few weeks the band and Camila were going to move to LA, and your heart ached at the thought of having them away. They were all what kept you happy and losing them all at once was scary.

Warren told you to meet him earlier before rehearsal, so soon you were in the garage waiting for your favorite drummer. You hear a noise and soon you see your boyfriend entering the place, he runs to you hugging you tight.

"My girl!' He says between kisses on your cheek. "I missed you so much princesa."

"Missed you two." You say kissing him.

"Hey kiddo, Mom said Warren is home, did you see him?" Billy walks in coming across Warren kissing his sister. "What the fuck!?"

Billy without thinking approaches you, pushing Warren away from you, losing balance, Rojas falls and you get scared with how quickly everything happened, you quickly get closer to your brother, pulling him away from your boyfriend.

"Hey Billy, it's okay!" You say calling his attention to you.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Billy doesn't lower his voice, he continues his tantrum. "What is on your fucking head Warren! Are you crazy?"

"What's going on here?" Graham enters the place trying to understand the reason for the confusion.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you." Warren feels a shiver down his spine at the older Dunne's words.

"Would anyone care to explain to me what's going on?" Graham looked confused. "Why is Warren on the ground?"

"Warren is fucking Y/N." Billy says, bringing his hands to his face in frustration.

Warren stands, watching you with a concerned look. You say "is everything alright?" in a whisper and he nods in agreement.

"Is that true?" Graham was shocked.

"I'm in love with her." Rojas says, Graham can't help but smile and Billy rolls his eyes.

"You can't be fucking serious." Billy scuffs. "You barely talk to each other."

"Or you just don't pay attention to anything but yourself…" You say and Billy looks at you in disbelief.

As you speak up to your brother, you can see the shock in his face. He never expected you to be so bold and confrontational.

"Excuse me?" Billy says, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.

"You heard me," you say, not backing down. "You never bothered to pay attention to me or what's going on in my life. All you care about is yourself and your fucking band."

"I can't believe you're saying this," Billy says, his voice rising.

Billy looks taken aback by your outburst. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. He just stares at you, his face turning red with anger.

"Y/N, I think you should calm down." Warren says, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"No, Warren. I'm tired of him always acting like he's the only one who matters." You say, turning to face Billy. "You didn't even notice that I was happy, that I was in love with someone. All you cared about was yourself."

"Unbelievable!" Billy storms out of the garage, leaving you alone with Graham and Warren.

As you let out a frustrated sigh, Warren notices your unease and takes your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles gently. Graham watches the exchange between you two and chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I can't believe my little sister is dating Warren Rojas." He says, the amusement evident in his tone.

You and Warren laugh along with him, feeling more at ease now.

You lean your head on Warren's shoulder and he kisses the top of your head softly. Graham takes notice of Billy's absence and decides to go check on him.

"I'll see how he's doing." Graham points towards the garage door. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Once Graham leaves, you turn to Warren, still worried about his fall due to Billy's outburst. You reach out and cup his face, showing your affection.

"Are you okay, pretty boy?" You ask him, your concern evident in your voice.

"I'm alright, princesa." He assures you, giving you a small smile. He leans in and plants a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Sorry about that whole scene, seriously." You say, feeling embarrassed by your brother's behavior.

"It's not your fault, Hermosa." Warren says, using the affectionate nickname he has for you. "I'm just happy to be with you. And now I'm going to tell the whole world that you're mine."

You smile and pull him in for an intense kiss, never wanting to let him go.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

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[imaginesandbandfiction]

Vigilante Shit

An Outer Banks Imagine

Pairing: Topper Thornton x female!reader

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: Very vague mentions of domestic violence that didn't actually happen, having sex for money (slightly dubious consent bc of that at one point)

Summary: You're hired to investigate a rich pretty boy and team up with his wife to nail him for his crimes.

A/N: Enjoy this Taylor Swift-inspired fic, this is what I imagined happening all throughout the song so I wrote about it! Hope you like it!!!

Masterlist

The taxi pulls up in front of a small bungalow and you hand a wad of cash to the driver, thanking him as you get out of the car. You try the front door and it swings open, left unlocked just like the client had said it would be. It’s fully furnished inside, with a simple, neutral color scheme that complements the beach visible out of the windows that line the back of the house. There’s a small, cozy living room off to one side and an eat-in kitchen on the other. Down the hall are two bedrooms and a bathroom. You drop your backpack in the bigger room and then circle back to the kitchen with just your laptop. 

There’s an iPhone on the kitchen table, three generations old, next to a charging cord wrapped in a neat circle. You plug it into your laptop and retrieve the iCloud backup you had prepared last week, dragging it over to the ‘New iPhone’ file.

As everything downloads, you run through the mental copy of the file you received last month. It was too dangerous to bring it along with you, so you had committed it to memory and burned the physical copy before you left. Your waitressing job at the Kildare Island Country Club was starting tomorrow, and you were to report there at 2 pm, between the brunch and dinner rushes, for training. The client and her husband had reservations at 7, and she assured you that they would be seated in your section. From there, a few simple steps will position you to carry out the rest of the job, tie any loose ends into a neat bow, and get the hell out. The phone dings when the download is complete, so you add a simple passcode and change the name of the phone to ‘Y/N’s Phone,’ wrapping up the final details before heading to bed.

The next morning, you make a cup of coffee and settle in at the kitchen table to answer some emails from potential future clients before you have to leave for work. In the bedroom you slept in, the closet is fully stocked with a carefully-curated wardrobe. Everything is second-hand and leans towards casual with small details that will elevate the outfits from simple to elegant, like cardigans with pearl buttons and soft, satin camisoles. You put on a short black tennis skirt and a white sleeveless polo cropped just enough to show a small strip of skin and accessorize with a thin gold chain around your neck. It’s enough to spark interest without being over the top, and natural eye makeup paired with a shimmery, peach-colored lip gloss compliments the look perfectly.

At the Country Club, you meet with the Restaurant Manager, Darcy, who gives you a tour around the grounds and then walks you through what a typical shift will look like. You meet the rest of the staff and Darcy leaves you with Karen to train. She’s been waitressing at the club for twenty years and lets you follow her around as the dinner crowd starts to trickle in. 

Seven o’clock grows nearer and your nerves melt into confidence. The adrenaline starts to kick in and you get a burst of energy, which Karen takes full advantage of. She has you do most of the work while she supervises, interjecting here and there to answer a question you don’t know the answer to or to give you slight corrections. You’re so caught up in the whirlwind of the dinner rush that you don’t realize the client has arrived until Karen leads you up to a couple in their late 20s, looking glamorous in designer clothes and seated by the windows that overlook the ocean. To be fair, though, you hadn’t even spoken to the client on the phone and didn’t even know her real name, she went by ‘SC’ in her emails. All you had was a general description; strawberry-blonde hair and big brown eyes, and the woman in front of you fit that description perfectly. Her husband also matched his description, with slicked-back blonde hair and dark blue eyes that sparkle with interest as he takes you in.

“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Thornton,” Karen greets them. “This is Y/N, she’s my trainee. 

“So lovely to meet you,” you say, flashing a shy smile at the husband. His gaze drops down your body and then back up to your face, and he smiles back. 

“The pleasure is all ours, Y/N,” he says. “I’m sure you’ll take great care of us.”

The woman flips her long, shiny hair over one shoulder and holds a manicured hand out to you, interrupting his husband’s thinly-veiled flirting. 

“I’m Sarah,” she drawls, “It’s nice to meet you.” You take her hand and shake it gently. She squeezes your hand three times in quick succession, too light to be noticeable to anyone but you, and relief floods your body at this confirmation. Sarah is SC. 

“Are you staying in the old Routledge place?” Mr. Thornton asks.

“How did you know?” You ask in response, furrowing your brows in faux confusion. 

“My husband owns most of the rental properties on this island,” Sarah interjects, “so when someone new shows up, it’s not hard to figure out where they’re living.”

“So when you’re ready to move on from that hovel, just let me know and I’ll set you up with something nicer. A girl like you deserves a home as pretty as she is.” Mr. Thornton reaches into his pocket and hands over a business card as he speaks. You tuck it into the side of your bra without a second glance, catching his eye and biting your lip as you feel your cheeks heat up. There’s something dark behind the smirk he gives you; like he’s a predator and you're his prey. 

“Thank you,” you respond, infusing your voice with the innocent earnestness that you had perfected over the years. “Right now it’s all I can afford. I had to leave a bit of a shitty situation back home so…” You shrug as you trail off, leaving it up to him to fill in the blanks.  

“That’s enough of an introduction,” Karen interrupts, taking a step closer to the table and pulling out her notepad. “Could I get the two of you a bottle of wine to start?” With that, the conversation is derailed but the groundwork has been laid, so you feel good about it. 

For the rest of the night, you give their table extra attention. Karen had told you after your initial conversation that they are some of the most important members of the club so she isn’t suspicious, and actually encourages you to flirt with him a little bit. (“He likes to feel important and wanted,” she said. “The wife will pretend to be upset about it, but between you and me, I don’t think there’s much love there.”)

He pays with a credit card and leaves a hefty tip, so when you find an envelope resting on the chair he had been sitting in, you don’t expect it to be filled with hundred-dollar bills. There’s a note scrawled on the inside of the flap: I meant what I said. Call me if you need anything. He wrote a phone number underneath, and you don’t have to check the business card to know that this isn’t a business number. Before anyone has the chance to notice it, you shove it in the waistband of your skirt and adjust your apron so it’s hidden from view, and finish flipping the table. It’s not your first rodeo, so you know that you’ve really sold it, but no other job has gone this well this quickly. Karen’s right, this guy really does crave attention. 

The rest of your shift passes in a blur and by the time you make it back to the house, you’re exhausted. You collapse on the bed and pull out the business card. It’s sleek and sexy, with TOPPER THORNTON in all capital letters at the top in a sans-serif, wide-spaced font. Sure enough, the number on the bottom is different from the number on the inside of the envelope, so you toss the card to the side and put the envelope number into your phone. Before you start getting ready for bed, you shoot him a quick text. 

Hey, it’s Y/N from the country club. Thanks for your note, I really appreciate it. Guess I’ll have to take you up on your offer to look at some other places ;)

His response is instant. 

Don’t thank me yet, we’re only just getting started

You roll your eyes and decide to leave him on read for a few minutes while you take your makeup off and do your skincare routine. 

I work tomorrow and Saturday, but Sunday I’m free!

I’ll pick you up at 6

This is clearly a man who has never been told no in his life, but you can work with that. With phase two of your plan already underway, you don’t feel bad about tossing your phone to the side and falling asleep without responding.

Part of you is shocked that he doesn’t show up to the club while you’re working over the next two days, but then again, he’s probably smart enough to know to keep his distance from you in public. People who run successful real estate dynasties usually aren’t stupid no matter how rich they were growing up. He hasn’t texted or called, either. But the asshole is true to his word, and punctual, you’ll give him that, because he pulls up in a dark blue G-Wagen at five fifty-five on the dot. The windows are rolled down and he slides his Ray-Ban aviators down his nose to stare at you as he puts the car in park.

“Ready, sweetheart?” He asks, peering over the tops of his sunglasses. You get up from your spot on the front steps and slide into the passenger seat, adjusting your jean shorts so they don’t ride up. After buckling in, you look up and see that his gaze is stuck on the exposed skin of your thighs.

“So, where are we going?” You ask, getting his attention without calling him out. After all, if this is going to work out, you need him to be distracted. 

“I thought I’d show you a place a little further down the beach,” he says, clearing his throat. “It’s still on this side of the island, but it’s closer to the boardwalk and within walking distance of the club,” he answers. You nod and sit quietly for the rest of the short drive, observing him out of the corner of your eye. He drives with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the windowsill, tapping along to some invisible rhythm. The slight breeze blows his hair around, and when he pulls up in front of a small but cute beach bungalow with blue siding and white shutters, it’s wild and messy. He runs a hand through the front to tame it as he gets out of the car. You start to open the passenger door but suddenly it swings open and he’s standing there, holding a hand out to help you down. 

“Thanks,” you say as you brush past him, keeping his hand in yours for just a few seconds longer than necessary. You turn towards the house and pause in front of it to take it in. “This is really cute!” 

“Thought you’d like it,” he says with a smirk. “Now c’mon, you gotta see the inside. The last tenants moved out three months ago so I’ve gotten a few things updated in the meantime - Floors, countertops…” He rattles off a few more things as he leads you inside, unlocking the front door with one of several keys on a keychain he dug out of his pocket. None of them are labeled, but you make a mental note that the one for this house is small and silver with a circular hole through which the chain is looped. 

The door swings open and he holds it for you, letting you take in the small entryway. 

“The kitchen and living room are just down the hall,” he tells you, pointing to where a short hallway extends from the entrance. “Bedrooms are upstairs, and there’s one bedroom up there, the other is off of the kitchen, next to the garage.” He sneaks around you and grabs your hand to lead you down the hallway. There’s a large, open room with tall windows along the back of the house. The living room has a large gray sectional and two matching armchairs set up around a fireplace, with a large TV mounted above it. On the other side is the kitchen. It’s bigger than the one you have now, all white with marble counters. An island separates the two spaces, with three stools set up on the living room side. Off of the kitchen, there’s a half wall that gives the dining room a little bit of privacy even though it’s still technically part of the larger space. 

The dining table is set for two, and there’s a covered pan in the middle. You turn to Topper, eyes filled with questions, and he chuckles as he leads you toward it. 

“I thought you’d be hungry, y’know, since I’m stealing you over dinnertime,” his grin is cheeky as he speaks.

“That is so sweet, thank you,” you gush. He pulls your chair out for you and loads up your plate before he sits across from you. 

“So, Y/N, tell me about yourself.”

“There’s not much to tell, to be honest.” You shrug as you start eating. He’s quiet as you eat, giving you the space to continue. “I’m from Massachusetts,” lie, “I went to school for history education but ended up dropping out halfway through when I met this older guy,” another lie. “He kind of swept me off my feet so I ran away with him. We were in the city, New York, that is, and things were good.”

“But?”

“But…. he liked things his way, and even though I was fine with playing my part in the beginning, it was hard to keep it up long-term. And he would get angry.” You pause there, letting all of the things you haven’t said wash over him. His face is soft and it’s so uncharacteristic that it looks awkward on him.

“So that’s why you moved to Kildare? To get away?” You bite your lip and nod, lowering your head to look at the table as if you’re ashamed. 

“Hey,” his voice is quiet and gentle, and he reaches across the table to tip your chin up so you’re looking at him again. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be embarrassed with me. I’m just glad you were able to get out of there.”

“Thanks.” He pulls his hand away and pushes away from the table, coming around to stand next to you instead. His hands find your chin again, tilting your head up towards him. As he leans down, you let your chin tip back even further, inviting his advance. 

“What about your wife?” You whisper, forcing your face into a worried expression. He strokes your cheekbone with his thumb to soothe you. 

“She won’t leave me. She likes my money too much.” From his tone, you get that he’s sort of joking, but the sentiment rubs you the wrong way and at that moment, you fully understand why she had come to you. But you keep any trace of dislike from your face as he captures your lips with his. He’s greedy, opening his mouth against yours right away. The angle is a bit odd since he’s towering above you and you have to lean your head really far back in order to make it work, but he uses that to his advantage, leaning some of his weight on you as if to make a point that if he wanted to, he could force you to do anything. You run through a mental list of attractive celebrities to take yourself out of your body as you kiss him back.

When his hand grazes your boob, you pull back and hug your knees to your chest, putting a physical barrier between the two of you, playing up the helpless victim card. 

“Sorry,” you breathe, “It’s just, I haven’t… Not since him. Do you mind if we leave it there, just for today? I promise I’ll be more ready next time.”

“Of course,” Topper says, reaching out to smooth a hand down your hair. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’m okay with taking it slow.” You knew he wasn’t, that he was the kind of guy who would take what he thought he deserved, but he was probably turned on by the whole scared and innocent thing. Willing to play the long game and savor dismantling your defenses until you melted for him like butter.

He drops you off with one final kiss, short and searing, and you disappear into the house and immediately draw a hot bath. While you wait for the tub to fill up, you shoot an email to your client, Sarah.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Status Update [ENCRYPTED]

Hey SC,

It feels kinda weird to call you that now that we’ve actually met in person, but I’ll keep it up for privacy’s sake. You were right - he fell right into the ‘broken and innocent’ trap that I laid for him. I plan to give a little more next time and really make him feel like he’s fixing me; the bigger his ego gets, the likelihood of my success skyrockets. Thanks for sending over those additional leads! I’ve been able to make a few possible connections but will hold off on the details until I can gather enough evidence to prove them. Plausible deniability will get you far in life, darling. 

Anyways, keep pushing his buttons at home. We want him distracted in as many ways as possible, and if you’re holding him at arms’ length, he’ll be more likely to come running straight to me. 

RS

After a long, hot soak, you return to your computer and find a response already waiting in your inbox.

To: [email protected] 

From: [email protected]

RE: Status Update [ENCRYPTED]

RS,

It is sort of weird being secret pen pals now that we’ve officially met, but I appreciate your discretion and dedication to the job. I knew it would be easy to get my husband to pursue you, but I didn’t think it would happen this quickly! I shouldn’t be surprised, he’s been cheating on me since high school. I’m sure you probably think I’m an idiot for marrying him, but I was young and I thought (stupidly) that he would mature as he got older. That’s the power of first love, I guess. 

Thanks for the update!

SC

You smile to yourself at her response, if you weren’t working for her (and starting a pre-planned affair with her husband), you could see yourself being friends with the woman. 

***

After another few days of shifts at the country club and keeping a just-flirty-enough text chain going with Topper, he shows up while you’re working on purpose, for the first time. Sarah’s not with him this time; instead, he’s with a group of similar-looking guys, all wearing khaki shorts and pastel-colored polos. They must have just finished golfing because they take a caddy to the bar with them and buy him a shot before they settle in at a table in your section.

Over the course of your very short tenure as a country club waitress, you’ve learned a lot. Most of it came from Karen, who loved to gossip and seemed to know everything about everyone on the island, but rich people tended to think that the staff wasn’t real people, so they were surprisingly loose-lipped about a lot of things. 

You learn that the Routledge house, where you’re staying, belongs to a John B Routledge who has made quite a name for himself as a travel vlogger on YouTube. He rents his childhood home to tourists and people needing somewhere to stay for a few months while he’s out traveling the world. You also learn, courtesy of Karen, that John B is Sarah Thornton’s ex. Apparently, she broke up with Topper and dated John B during a tumultuous and confusing time that you don’t fully understand. There was some drama with her family and she ended up breaking up with him and taking Topper back. This is valuable information that you can use to get Topper even more invested in you. He still has a deep-seated hatred for the man that stole his girlfriend in high school, and you have no doubt that part of your charm, to Topper, is the fact that you’re living in John B’s house. 

Before you head over to their table, you duck into the bathroom to reapply your lip gloss and pull your top down a bit, showing an additional inch or so of cleavage. Sure enough, he can’t keep his eyes off of your chest as you make small talk with the rest of the group and take their drink orders. Two of the men, Rafe and Kelce, have been his best friends since childhood. The fourth guy, who introduced himself as PJ, is a mystery, but he fits seamlessly into their boys-club dynamic, flirting with you while simultaneously making fun of the rest of the guys for doing the same thing. 

Topper is actually the tamest of the group, probably because he has something to hide, but when you drop off their food, he hits you with a wink and a quiet “thanks, babe.” He pays for the whole group, and you notice a note scribbled on the back of the customer’s copy of the receipt. I’ll pick you up after your shift. You tuck the note into your bra and let him catch you smiling to yourself as you start to clean off the table.

Sure enough, his Mercedes is parked out front when you leave a few hours later. He’s leaning against it, scrolling through his phone, but he stops abruptly when he notices you standing a few feet away from him.

“Good shift?” he asks, raising one eyebrow at you.

“Eh, it was alright,” you joke with a shrug. “Some weirdo left me a note, though.”

“You gotta be careful when talking to strangers, Y/N.” He takes a step forward and grabs your hand, tugging you closer to him. “They might get the wrong idea.” He whispers his second sentence against the corner of your mouth, pressing a hard kiss there to really drive his point home. Within seconds, though, he’s gone. When you turn around, he’s holding the passenger door open for you with a little smirk on his lips. 

“C’mon, I’ve got something to show you,” he says. With a shy smile on your face, you climb inside and let him shut the door behind you. He’s quiet during the drive, again, but this time, his free hand is wrapped around your thigh, just below the hem of your skirt. It’s another short drive, and he pulls into a palm-tree-lined driveway. A large, beachfront mansion slowly comes into view as he makes his way down the driveway. He parks right out front, between a large fountain and the stairs up to the front door, and leaves the keys on the seat. 

“What do you think?” He asks you as he helps you out of the car with one hand and gestures to the house with the other. 

“It’s gorgeous,” you breathe. “Is it one of your rental properties?” You play dumb, like it hadn’t even occurred to you that he’d bring you to his house. 

“Nope, this one’s mine. And Sarah’s away for the weekend…” He trails off with a shit-eating grin and holds the door open for you. As he shows you around the first floor, you oooh and ahhh in all the right places, all wide-eyed innocence and fuck me eyes. The tour ends in the kitchen, where he pops a bottle of Dom Perignon and pours you each a glass. You accept it gratefully and take a long sip, letting the cold bubbles dance on your tongue for a moment before you swallow. Both of you lean against the counter as you sip, chatting about some of the small details of the house that he was the proudest of. 

The champagne is just a pretense, something to make it seem like you weren’t just here to hook up. But when the glasses are empty, that changes. Topper reaches across your chest to take the empty glass from your hand. Instead of pulling it back towards him, he just leans forward further to set it on the counter on your other side and then side-steps so he’s standing in front of you with his arms caging you between him and the counter. 

“This okay?” He mutters as he leans in, stopping just as his lips brush against yours. You nod and look up at him through your eyelashes, lifting your lips in a shy smile. That’s all the permission he needs and his lips are pressed against yours within seconds. His hips press into yours, pushing your back into the edge of the counter, so you wriggle a bit to give him the hint to knock it off. Instead, he hooks his hands under your thighs and lifts you up onto the countertop. This causes your skirt to bunch up a bit and Topper takes advantage of the newly-exposed skin. To his credit, he doesn’t push your limits, seeming content to stick to exposed skin only. But you know he won’t stay patient for long if the hardness against your thigh is any indication.

You hear the tell-tale sign of a lawn mower starting up somewhere outside and freeze, clutching onto Topper’s shoulders as if staying still will somehow make you invisible. 

“Can we go somewhere more… private?” You ask, shooting a nervous glance at the large window above the sink to your right. 

“Absolutely,” he says, taking a quick nip at your bottom lip. Instead of stepping back to let you off the counter, he just hoists you up into his arms. You cling on for dear life as he takes you up the grand staircase in the entryway. He opens the first door on the left and doesn’t even bother turning the lights on before he sets you down and his lips are on yours again. His back is facing the door and you take advantage of that, pushing forward until he’s pressed flat against it. You swallow his grunt of surprise and then trail your lips down his neck as you drop to your knees in front of him.

***

The next time, you invite Topper to your place and let him return the favor. Then, he takes you to two more of his rental properties where you do everything but penetrative sex before Sarah leaves town and he finally brings you back to his house again. 

This time, you let him go all the way. It’s not bad, but it could definitely be better. You keep him occupied for a while, and when he’s facedown on the bed recovering, you offer to go make him a cup of coffee. 

“That would be great, thanks babe,” he groans, voice slightly muffled by the pillow underneath him. You throw on his abandoned button-down and pad down the stairs to start the coffee maker. That gives you just a few minutes of unsupervised time in his house, so you sneak down the hall to his study. The door’s unlocked, but when you try the desk drawers, they won’t budge. There are keyholes at the top of each drawer, and from your inspection, it looks like the same key would open them all. His computer’s asleep, and it’s password-protected, which doesn’t surprise you. For good measure, you run your hands alongside the bottom of the wood just in case there’s anything hidden there, but no such luck. The coffee maker beeps and interrupts your search, but you’re content with the intel you’ve gathered. As you pour two mugs of coffee, you start to devise a plan. A quick detour to the bathroom on your way back upstairs proves fruitful, you find a bottle of Trazodone prescribed to Sarah, and crush up three pills, stirring them into Topper’s coffee. 

He’s out like a light forty-five minutes later, but you wait another hour just to make sure. Then, you sneak back downstairs with your backpack. A USB drive with password-cracking software downloaded goes straight into the computer, and while the program runs, you manage to pick the locks on three of the five drawers. 

Four hours later, you slip back upstairs with two USB drives full of information, and photos of the most incriminating documents saved on your burner phone. Everything is zipped into the hidden pocket inside the lining of your backpack and you curl up next to Topper to sleep as if nothing has happened.

The next morning, you wake up before he does and decide to give him a little wake-up surprise. It serves its purpose and distracts him long enough for you to make your exit, smuggling the evidence out with you, leaving him none the wiser. 

You get into work and take a moment to let out the tension you had been holding in all night. Slumping against the wall in the staff break room, you pull out your phone and type out another message to Sarah.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

RE: RE: Status Update [ENCRYPTED]

I GOT IT!!!!!! Evidence is in hand. I know the hearing’s not for another two weeks, so I can hold onto it until then if you want me to. Also, sorry, I stole a few of your Trazodones. Hopefully getting the evidence makes up for that, haha. 

RS

By the time your day shift is over, she’s responded, so you take a second to answer her before you head home for the night. 

To: [email protected] 

From: [email protected]

RE: RE: RE: Status Update [ENCRYPTED]

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! I knew you could do it! I’ll stop by in the morning on my way to the courthouse, if that’s okay?

SC

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

RE: RE: Status Update [ENCRYPTED]

Works for me! I’m just glad I was able to get it in time. 

RS

The next two weeks pass by in a blur of work and secret meetups with Topper, who suspects absolutely nothing. You’re still his shiny new toy, dressed up like a present for him to unwrap. The only time he mentions the impending divorce hearing is late one night when he shows up at your place unannounced. His kisses taste like whiskey and the smell of cigarette smoke lingers on his jacket. You lead him to the bedroom right away, knowing that he’s looking for a way to get out some of his drunken frustrations, and sure enough, his lips loosen as he’s pounding you into the mattress with one hand pressed against your stomach to hold you in place.

“I can’t fuckin believe she’s taking me to court,” he growls into your neck. “Bitch is trying to take half my shit. Thinks she can get our prenup annulled, ha! My lawyers will fuckin ruin her.”

You coo sweet nothings into his ear and brush his hair back from his forehead, which seems to calm him down a bit. Other than that one night, though, he’s been pretty much silent on the whole situation.

The morning of the hearing is here in no time, and headlights shine through your windows as Sarah pulls into your driveway. She’s behind the wheel of Topper’s Mercedes and her hair is pulled back into a low bun with a black and white silk head scarf wrapped around it. Topper’s signature aviators cover half of her face, and somehow she makes it look elegant. A black kitten heel is the first thing you see as she steps out of the car, followed by a tight-fitting yet modest black dress. 

“Hey girl,” she says as she approaches the front door that you’re holding open for her. 

“Hi! You look incredible,” you tell her. “Topper’s gonna lose his shit.” She giggles and lets you lead her into the kitchen. 

“That’s the plan.” She notices the manila envelope sitting on the kitchen counter and runs her fingers along its edge. “Is this it?” 

“Yep, it’s all there.”

“Perfect.” The grin on her face is positively wicked as she picks it up and slides it into her oversized leather bag. “Are you going to the courthouse?”

‘I’m gonna try and sneak into the back row right before it starts. That way, he won’t notice me, at least not until after it’s too late.”

“Well, then I’ll see you there!” Sarah sounds genuinely excited about that prospect, and she reaches out to squeeze your hand. “Seriously, Y/N, thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you.” You squeeze her hand back. 

“Feels kind of weird for you to thank me when you literally paid me to sleep with your husband.” You chuckle. “ But you’re welcome. And good luck today!” With one final, soft smile, she’s out the door and on her way. 

You change into your own revenge dress; it shows off more skin than Sarah’s, which seems fitting for playing the part of the mistress who betrayed him. Black platform sandals and your own pair of oversized sunglasses complete the look, and you manage to make it into the courtroom just as the judge is swearing everyone in. 

The proceedings are tedious at first; it’s mostly just both lawyers establishing the facts of the case, but when Sarah is called up to the stand to make her statement, things take a dramatic turn. 

“I’m Sarah Thornton, and I have new evidence to submit,” she says as she reaches into her bag and hands the envelope over to the judge. He flips through the papers quickly, then calls the lawyers back into his chambers to go over this new information. 

“What the fuck?” Topper yells, lunging forwards as Sarah passes his seat. His lawyer is fast, though, and holds Topper back, whispering a stern warning. She just flashes a sweet smile and heads back to her seat, sitting with her head held high, a calm statue in the face of his messy outrage. 

It’s nearly an hour before the judge and lawyers reemerge and things move quickly after that. The judge nullifies the prenup, stating that Topper violated one of its clauses and therefore it is no longer valid. His face is burning with rage but he bites his tongue because his lawyer’s got a death grip on his arm. Sarah is awarded the house and all material possessions, with Topper retaining only a small fraction of the cash assets they shared as a couple. It doesn’t really matter, though, because then two cops burst through the doors and make a beeline for a seething Topper.

“Topper Thornton, you are under arrest for insider trading and money laundering. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you…” the officer on the right recites as his partner puts Topper in cuffs. The man is wild-eyed, turning his head back and forth between Sarah and his lawyer, trying to put the pieces together. 

As the police are leading him out of the courtroom, his eyes lock onto yours and his eyes blaze with fury.

“You fucking bitch!” he spits at you, poison dripping from his lips. 

“Bye, Topper,” you say, voice light and airy as you waggle your fingers at him in a little wave. You hear him grunting and struggling to break free, but the cops have a good grip on him so he’s not able to escape. Once he’s been escorted off the premises, the judge smacks his gavel against his podium.

“Case dismissed!” He says, and the hearing is officially over. Sarah rushes over to you, squealing, and loops her arm through yours. The two of you walk down the steps, out of the courthouse, and onto the street, into a better and brighter future.

#obx #obx imagines #obx imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks imagines #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfiction #obx fanfic #topper x reader #topper x you #topper x y/n #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton x you #topper thornton x y/n #taylor swift #vigilante shit #imaginesandbandfiction #imagine #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic #obx oneshot #outer banks oneshot

[acourtofthought]

I still think HOFAS and the very next ACOTAR book will stand apart.

I'm not saying the events that happen in HOFAS won't eventually be introduced to ACOTAR series but I imagine it's something that will happen down the line and not where SJM will immediately start the next ACOTAR book.

Bloomsbury is a bohemeth publishing company, they have JK Rowling and Harry Potter has sold more than 500 million copies worldwide. They know what they're doing when it comes to marketing and SJM has to follow their suggestions as much as they work with hers.

To me it doesn't matter what SJM said in a paid interview that was only accessible to some and that only those in the fandom chat about, these series still need to stand on their own. Bloomsbury is not going to leave loose ends and anything up to chance. They're not going to allow the readers that shop only in bookstores and don't follow the fandom to be completely lost when picking up the next ACOTAR. It seems crazy to us but some have truly never read CC or bother with the books beyond reading them.

This is what she said in that paid interview:

"I mean I guess you should read ACOTAR"

Of course she wants you to read ACOTAR bc it's more money and then you'll know who these people are that Bryce just met. But that statement is not "if you don't read ACOTAR, you'll be confused and these plots are now completely intertwined" especially because this only leaves 4 months for everyone who hasn't read ACOTAR to finish 4.5 books. If it was a requirement, she should have announced it during her first CC2 spoiler interview, after it's release. And the statement also wasn't "you'll have to read the CC series in order to understand the next ACOTAR. CC3 might setup future ACOTAR books but that doesn't mean we won't first have the information introduced in the ACOTAR series (sort of like the Cassian pov in MAF, it setup his future bond with Nesta but you could skip reading it and were still given the same information in the books after).

And this is "the ad" she had them put in the back of HOSAB:

That doesn't seem like a reading requirement, right? And this is her website:

It still says you can start with any series you want.

As of now, no announcement has ever been made on her IG that these series are now unable to stand on their own.

And Bloomsbury?

It still indicates she has three separate series.

So I imagine readers didn't leave the world of ACOTAR after SF with questions about the treaty, Koschei, Spring, Beron, etc, only for them to pick up the next ACOTAR book and find they had an outerspace time traveler having visited Prythian and their current plot is now tied into her visit and the information mentioned in a completely different series.

6-9 months have passed between the end of SF and the start of HOFAS.

Feyre left Tamlin, fell in love with Rhys, witnessed her sisters being made, returned to Spring to destroy it, and fought in her first war in 8 months.

It's really not that wild of an idea to consider that SJM could start the next ACOTAR book shortly after the ending of SF, deal with the treaty, Spring, Koschei, Beron, or the Illyrians, and eventually work her way up to the events of the crossover (within the ACOTAR series).

To me that makes more sense than the characters puttering around for 6-9 months, doing nothing about the treaty, Spring, Koschei, Beron or the Illyrians.

SF - "We're extremely worried about these threats to our world!"

The time leading up to the crossover - "Eh.... We'll get to them some other time".

SJM has two remaining books in the ACOTAR spin-offs, books that were to follow a new romantic pairing in each book. But she was recently contracted for four other books on top of that and we have no clue what those books are going to be about.

When she said "the crossover will set up future ACOTAR books", it's possible she meant books far into the future, not necessarily the spin-offs she was contracted for back in 2017.

She knew what the first two spin-offs were going to be about before she ever realized Bryce would land in Prythian and at one point she said her plan for the spin-offs hadn't changed.

Sure, it's possible her plans did change since then. But it's also possible they stayed the same and the events of the crossover will lead us into ACOTAR books beyond the remaining traditional romance spin-offs, possibly even a multi character pov ACOTAR book.

#acotar theory #sarah j mass #crossover acotar #acotar series #crossover theory #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #feyre acotar #rhysand acotar #azriel acotar #nesta acotar #morrigan acotar #gwyn acotar #cassian acotar

[bbiemochi]

Heyllo! I love your theme! And the fact that you have the same name as mine… well kinda different bc mine doesn’t finish with a « y » while I read your bio I thought it was me lol 😅😂

Sooo if it’s fine (if not ignore it) I would like to request a fem reader x any girls of your choices, where Reader received death treatment: When R finds out at her home some letters/destroyed stuff, she decided to hide herself at her home. Her girlfriend(s) doesn’t know until (pb bc R doesn’t communicate), some letters intended to Reader, where find by them. What we would their reaction and actions to this ?

Have a nice day! Thank you if you write it 😊

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 | yelan & yanfei

[an]: hello there! <3 tysm for requesting, lovely! ^^ godzayum, when i first saw this request i was a little surprised of how long this was ToT the important thing is how i sacrifice my brain juice for this shit :,D yelan and yanfei were both the first girls that came into mind, so i decided to just go with them instead! hope u enjoy! also sorry if it’s rlly short ToT

summary: the fear of death always troubled you. your girlfriend was always worried of the anxiety you had when you declined going out with her for a while. when she finally knew the answer of the cause thanks to a lovely note near the door of the foot entrance of your home she planned on visiting, she knew she must put a stop towards this.

pairing: yelan & yanfei x fem!reader! [ separated ! ]

genre: angst, fluff at the end!

warning: implied m*rder attempt, d*ath threats, anxiety attacks from the reader

***

yanfei

the lawyer kinda knew about the situation.

it all started when your connection with her began to loose a bit. next thing in her studies was when it’s been a week since you last left your home. your bosses had also lost contact with you afterwards. yanfei asked your close friends if they knew anything of what was going on, and they too had no idea. they hadn’t seen you at all for weeks. nor had they ever seen you left your home.

whenever she would visit your place, it also seemed that you weren’t in your house. it was strange, very strange. at first, she panics—thinking that you were off somewhere, or worst. possibly kidnapped. but one day as you answered the door, yanfei was quick to give you a big hug and a kiss on your forehead.

she was concerned. very concerned. the moment she asked you what happened, all your reply was a flinch and a nervous smile—signs that were obvious something terrible had definitely happened. yet yanfei didn’t force it out on you. instead, she told you that she’ll be right back to make you some tea.

of course, as someone who had been through far too many cases similar to your state, the first thing yanfei did was investigate around your place, finding possible evidence that might be your reasoning of your full-on panic nature. first evidence earlier was your easily frightened reaction when yanfei hears a bird fall on your closed window panel. she notices you hiding closer to her figure, which made her more worried. next thing yanfei noticed was your body always seemed to be shaking when she scoots far from you, almost telling that you were afraid that yanfei wasn’t close to your side.

back to her current position, your house was a little messy. almost like you threw a small tantrum around your place. all windows were closed shut, curtains covered, and all access entrances to your house was sealed locked. the appearance made it look liked you were hiding from someone. it threw the half adeptus off guard a little. just who would you be hiding from?

she investigated the area little more until…jackpot was delivered right on cue. a small note hanged over near your door, underneath the small space where the paper was pushed right inside. yanfei hurriedly grabbed the paper and went back to the kitchen to make it seem to you she was really making tea. she reads each line written on the scrambled note, and in that letter it reads: “why aren’t you fucking dead yet? i swear, i will visit your place once again when each coast is clear and i will torture you in every part of body you have. it’ll be a sight to behold.”

yanfei…was shocked. astonished…and angry. who would do such a thing? you never mentioned any rivals once in your life—and she never knew that you would have such a person to do this kind of thing. in her fist did she ripped the note and gritted her teeth. ‘guess she has more investigating to do, huh? this was going to get fierce.

as your girlfriend arrived back to your room, she had an angelic smile on her face while she poured you some hot tea. it was comforting, you can finally relax now…while yanfei finishes the rest.

it was late at night. the dark blue shaded skies now covering the stars began to seek in every corner of evening in teyvat. in liyue, there were still a few businesses going around even at this late. workloads and all sorts of that. you hid inside of your pillows as usual, afraid the person that keeps writing these death threats would one day take your life. you didn’t want that. you never did. you wanted to spend the rest of your life with your beloved, raise a child..all of those hopes you had. you didn’t want it to end because of whoever was doing this.

as you hugged your pillow tightly in your arms…you pushed yourself to fall asleep. yet you didn’t hear the small noises coming from your backyard.

“going somewhere?”

the person stopped their foot track when they heard a voice echo down near them. they turned their head to spot nothing but a pitch black void. however, as they steady their breaths, a foot revealed out from the light, and they panicked when they realized who it turned out to be.

“y-you…!” they whispered. yanfei frowns, her arms crossed and her eyebrows furrowed down. she was not pleased at all. however, she was sure when she connected the evidences together that it was their doing. who knew this lawyer could also be a good detective? “i’m disappointed. so it was you all along? i thought you were her boss?”

“what are you doing here, miss yanfei…?” they questioned, and yanfei sighs—unimpressed with their ways. “i’m here to solve a case. and with all the evidences connected along with the help of a helpful friend, i believe you were doing all of this..” she spoke, and the person chuckles. “i believe you are misunderstood, miss yanfei. you see, i’m not the one who was sending those awful messages to y/n i’m—

“huh? that’s strange, how did you know we were talking about the death letters my lover is receiving? aren’t you here for something else?” yanfei cuts them off, and the person flinches in surprise. “besides, that’s a nice knife and rope you’ve got there.” they were cornered, and yanfei was not happy at all. this was the first time they saw her so…mad. “b-but—

“silence!” a millelith suddenly appeared next to the half adeptus. after a few moments, five of them appeared afterwards, spears in their hands. “you have the right to remain silent! now come with us!”

“what!? no, this is ridiculous! you’re a lawyer! you don’t even have evidence that it was my doing!”

“oh no, we do actually…” a voice pops out, appearing next to the suspect. the person jumps as a familiar individual appeared out of nowhere. yanfei scoffs, “this is the friend i told you about. thanks for your help, yelan.”

“my pleasure.” yelan replies, kicking them down—as the person was held by the millelith, before they dragged them out to prison.

the following week, you never received those messages ever again. and for once you felt free..yanfei told you about what happened, and you were stunned. “so that means…?” you asked, and yanfei smiles so brightly—hugging you close to her. “that means everything’s going to be alright now…i love you, y/n. don’t ever make me worry like that again.”

yelan

it was an obvious case to her.

yelan loves you. she really does. and if someone tried to even harm you at least once? they better start packing their bags and move to another region because yelan will not stop until she finds them, tie them up and hurt them back. no wonder ningguang finds her somewhat astonishing, a great one to solve mysteries.

evidence 1: it had been days since you were last seen. even if yelan was busy with her work, she decided to scroll down your place to rest with you. being alone was something she disliked the most. as she knocked on the door, she noticed how long it took you to answer. when she saw you all nervous and still managed to beam that smile she loved the most at her, yelan was quick to know something wasn’t right.

evidence 2: yelan notices you shaking every time she makes a small bit of thud in your place. it worried her, it was as if you fear or anxiety was increased. she asked if you were doing alright, and of course—you lied behind your teeth, telling your girlfriend you were doing just fine. as always, these were one of the signs of someone who wasn’t doing fine. it’s an obvious excuse anybody could use. it wasn’t enough, she needs more evidence.

evidence 3: your place looks deserted. as if you haven’t cleaned for days. even worst, for weeks if she can recall. yelan had been tidying up the small parts of your place as your rested, you kept telling her that you had a small cold—reasoning of why you couldn’t clean much. yelan insisted if you want to go and visit doctor baizhu for a tiny checkup, you declined, replying that the message wasn’t much a big deal anyways. and it was odd to your girlfriend because you were someone that quite loved tidying things. figures much, this wasn’t the kind of mess you would make after all.

final evidence: alas, the final string that plucked in yelan’s chest as the last thing she needed to know. a single note that was swinging beside your trash can as she was sweeping your place. the paper wasn’t big, nor at the right size, it was as big as the hand’s palm. the writing was devilish, messy—every part of it was splashed with ink. red and black ink. yelan reads the note carefully, as her pupil followed every line written down, her hand immediately crumpled the paper before ripping it apart. the woman’s eyes was within rage. so…this what was going on, huh? she likes these kinds of things. however, if it happened to you? that just made her all sorts of unhappy.

standing up, yelan was quick to take care of you a little more. hugs, kisses, all sorts of physical affection to calm your nerves. she made you tea before heading out…thus, she began her investigation.

the moon shone brightly that evening. rain platters on window stills like a tap of a gentle water when touched by a finger. every merchant were busy doing their usual business, yelan was pretending to be one of them. her nose was hiding underneath a huge hat, similar to the one’s vendors are wearing that sells fish and other food.

as her shoes stepped against wet puddles, the woman dissolves out of nowhere, nobody noticing she was ever there at the first place.

thank the geo archon it was as dark as it can be this evening with not much street lights turned on. yelan was thrilled just by watching a certain someone trying to escape the ropes she tied them onto.

“there’s no use in struggling,” she spoke, looking closely to the person shifting off in every direction they can to escape. “you’re mine for the day. and as someone who’s been owned by me, i want answers.”

“w-what do you want..!? i didn’t do anything—gah..!” a yelp escapes their lips when yelan pulled a rope from their neck to pull them close to her face. “are you sure you didn’t do anything? hm?” she asks, tightening the grip. as she pushes them back on the chair, the woman snapped her fingers. two individuals came out of the shadows over the sides and handed her a paper. the person immediately recognized the slip before yelan could even read it.

“i hope you’re fucking ready for tonight, y/n. because tonight is when your place is going to burn down to ashes…” she reads. yelan looked at the suspect with so much fuel in her eyes. the individual swallows a lump down their throat. “i…i didn’t wrote those—

a loud bang was heard from the table. everyone in the room flinches when yelan punched it. the woman was in anger at the moment, and every one of her assistants…were silent. very silent. this wasn’t much like her. “i’m not in the mood for chit chat about lies. wouldn’t be telling the truth more better?” she questions, keeping her composure down. the person grits their teeth, “like i said! i didn’t do it!”

“oh really now? let’s make you remember then, shall we? hand me the files,” yelan yells. a folder was handed towards her desk and yelan was quick to open it up, sitting back at her chair while her assistants pushed the suspect close to the table to listen and watch. “5pm, time where you’d leave to work, correct?”

“y-yes…”

“were you at work that hour?”

silence, before an answer. “yes, i was.”

a grin stretches across yelan’s face. “really now? then how come at that certain day your boss wrote you down as ‘absent?’ what a shame, seemed like you must’ve been forgotten.” the suspect’s face shrunk into a look of fear and astonishment. “o-ok i lied! i wasn’t at work that day! i was visiting my grandparents down town!”

“are you sure again?”

“y-yes i’m sure!”

“too bad, it seems like you’re lying again. one merchant said they saw you sneaking near somewhere the nearby houses, archons knows what you’re doing there but…it looks like you were approaching y/n’s house, no?”

“l-like i said, it wasn’t me! i was off to my grandparent’s place!”

“didn’t you recall that your grandparents place was at down town?” another paused silence. the suspect’s mouth was wide agape. yelan sighs, before pushing their head down the desk, a loud bang echoing inside the room. “just tell the truth. you’re working the same job as y/n, am i right?”

“she stole everything! everything i’ve ever wanted!”

“telling the truth now? good, that’s what i’ve been waiting for…” the suspect watches as yelan pulled her seat close to theirs, eyes not moving away from their figure. she was focused, very focused on them. “now then, how about you tell me from the top of why you did it, and maybe i’ll change my mind of beating you.”

the next day after, yelan was delighted to see you finally stepping out of your place, unharmed. her assistants pretended that she wasn’t on the verge of murder the just the other day, and went along with her. “i’m glad you’re doing alright.”

“i-i’m really sorry if i never told you about this. i just didn’t want to add to your troubles when you’re already tired enough..” you told her, voice in a whisper when you both went out to grab lunch. yelan smiles softly, before speaking, “still, this matter is different. honey you were close to being attacked. what would i do with that happening?” she says, and you looked down from the table, avoiding her gaze upon your eyes. “i’m sorry…”

“no need to be. just—don’t hide things like that from me ever again, ok? i’ll be there for you,” she replies. once your meal had arrived, yelan stole one peck on the lips from you before digging up. your face was on fire that entire afternoon.

***

a/n: i don’t know how to write endings

request: opened!

#lucy’s works 📚✨ #lucy works 🍕💗 #genshin impact #genshin x reader #yelan #yanfei #yanfei x reader #yelan x reader #💌. lucyanswers #fluff

[tracybirds]

Where Parallel Lines Meet (5/?)

Wow these past two weeks have flown by! I’m about to go back to work full time so although I hope to keep to my loose fortnightly updates, I can’t guarantee that :( Lots to do in the year ahead!!

Big thanks to @gumnut-logic as always for being my sounding board and very patient with my slightly obsessive focus as I wrote :D And thanks also to the various people who gave me encouragement along the way and how you did so without hesitation bc that do be a confidence boost :D

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!!

Title is adapted from a line in Sarah Howes’ poem ‘Relativity’ (scroll to the bottom of the article)

A fight between John and Alan is followed by an interstellar storm with unexpected consequences.

[Part 1] | [Part 2] | [Part 3] | [Part 4] | [Part 5] | [Part 6] | [Part 7]

---

“You know, I haven’t spent much time down here,” said John, staring around them.

“I thought Scott showed you the hangar already,” replied Alan.

“Pointed at the door, more like. He hauled me away pretty quick and told me not to bother Brains.”

Alan thought if his brother rolled his eyes any harder they were liable to roll right out of their sockets.

“So you haven’t seen the ‘birds up close yet?”

“Well,” said John, hesitating over the word. “I wouldn’t say that exactly. I’ve seen them.”

Alan caught his meaning at once and groaned.

“Please tell me you didn’t sneak into the hangar in the middle of the night.”

“Okay,” said John, deadpan. “I didn’t sneak into the hangar in the middle of the night.”

He grinned.

“It’s not sneaking if the door’s left unlocked and I turned on all the lights. Besides he said I could have a closer look later. But when he’s here he’s always busy, so I helped myself.”

“Scott’s gonna kill me,” muttered Alan. “He’s actually going to kill me.”

“What’s his deal anyway?” said John. “I don’t remember him being so… you know.”

He waved his hand vaguely. “Like a giant pain in the ass.”

Alan stopped short and scowled at him.

“Scott’s not a pain in the ass.”

“Okay fine. Stick in the mud, whatever.”

“Scott’s given up everything for us.”

“Doesn’t seem that way to me. He’s just bossing all of us around, making up dumb rules that don’t make any sense.”

“That’s not what he’s doing, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh yeah? You don’t even remember, he used to sneak out and stuff all the time.”

“You’re the one that doesn’t remember anything,” snapped Alan. “You’re the one who can’t do anything and I don’t care if you think you’re smart, you’ve got to be stupider than a pair of rocks if you think your say-so is worth more than Scott’s.”

John stopped short, glaring at Alan with the fury and focus of a high energy laser.

He wrenched his mouth open and despite himself Alan flinched, remembering the sharply barbed words that could fall so easily from his brother’s tongue when he was in the right mood.

Or the wrong mood as the case may be.

It seemed that John was always in the wrong mood nowadays.

“B-boys?”

The commotion died down in an instant, both brothers turning towards Brains who stood staring at them with an expression of mild alarm. The door that led deeper into the volcanic cavern, towards his workshop wing, stood ajar behind him and he still held a tablet in his hand, the holo-blueprint he had been editing swinging wildly in time with the arm that hung loose by his side.

“Hey Brains,” said Alan. “Uh… sorry. We didn’t…”

He searched for the best word to describe the argument.

“…interrupt, did we?”

Brains pushed his glasses up his nose and gave them a small smile.

“I f-fancied a walk,” he said, tactfully ignoring the tension in the air that was slowly dissipating. “I assume you’re coming to see m..me?”

“Yeah. If you’re not too busy.”

“Come along then. I’ve b-been working on a new locking mm..mechanism for the space pods that you m-might like to look at. You as well, John.”

“We actually need…” began Alan, but John cut him off.

“Yes,” he said loudly. “Yes, please. I want to see that. How’d you solve the pressure differential issues? Being equipped for so many different environments must have been a challenge.”

He rushed forward and Brains followed him, chatting lightly together as they began to walk towards the workshop.

Alan let them go ahead for a moment and tried to collect his thoughts. He was starting to get used to the sharp whiplash that came with John��s moods but they seemed to race through him like a storm rising out of a blue sky. It disturbed him more than any other change, being totally foreign in comparison to John’s normal even temper and cool head.

He'd heard stories of John as a teenager, mostly through Gordon’s good-natured teasing, stories of a slightly awkward and gawky boy who froze when Fiona Carr asked him out and who spent more time in the computer lab than at social events.

None of those stories featured a moody kid with a temper that shifted as easily as the wind and tossed and turned and shoved and left Alan sprawling as he tripped over on the backfoot once more.

It wasn’t that his John didn’t get angry –Alan remembered their final conversation in excruciating detail after all– but he never seemed to let himself grow out of control. Always his fury was released with the same careful deliberation as every other part of his life, and tidily packed away once it was no longer required.

This John was a wild card and Alan couldn’t figure out how to deal with him.

“Alan,” called Brains, pausing in the doorway. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah… yeah, sorry Brains.”

He hurried to catch up and quickly fell into step beside him. John was nowhere to be seen.

“I let him g-go on ahead,” said Brains quietly. “He knows the way and he can’t do any harm.”

“I’m not so sure of that,” muttered Alan ungraciously, but he knew the likelihood of John deliberately damaging anything was next to none. He might have been a pain, and exhausting to keep an eye on, but Alan knew his brother was more bored and frustrated than vindictive.

The workshop would probably do him good.

“Did you want to discuss your argument?”

“No,” said Alan, unable to prevent a slight frown from falling over his expression.

Brains nodded, seeming unsurprised. They walked in silence for a few minutes, long enough for the air to lose its cavernous chill as they entered the cramped cave network that housed Brains’ engineering experiments and prototypes.

“How are you coping anyway?” he asked suddenly.

Alan snorted.

“I’m fine. It’s not like there’s anything I can do about it.”

“And that m-makes you f-fine?”

“It means I have to be fine. Scott’s got enough to worry about – him and the others are swamped as it is. Gordon hasn’t used the pool in weeks and I can’t remember the last time Virgil played his piano.”

“Yes,” said Brains sadly. “I’d noticed that too.”

“And Kayo doesn’t have time to talk anymore, she’s too busy on Five and Grandma’s off trying to figure out what’s going on with John and…”

The words spilled out of him, all his worries and fears, all the petty resentment he’d stored up over the last few weeks, all his failures that he’d tallied up and all the frustrations with John, with having to stay on the island, feeling helpless and useless and wishing he could take it all back, the arguments, the ionisation storm, skipping the stupid assignments, everything.

He just wanted to rewind the clock and tell his younger self to not be such a short-sighted idiot.

He didn’t know when they stopped walking, but Brains made no motion to continue their path and so Alan ranted and paced in front of his friend. All the while he said nothing, only stood quiet and listened.

The words slowed to short bursts as they petered out and Alan huffed.

“B-better?” asked Brains with one of his small smiles.

Alan found he couldn’t answer, didn’t know for sure if he did feel better. He might even feel worse, the cool embarrassment of being caught out and unable to work through his own feelings creeping over him.

He settled for a half-shrug and looked away as the expression on Brains’ face morphed into a distinct look of sympathy.

“Talking about it doesn’t make you weak.”

“It’s not that,” snapped Alan. “I shouldn’t need it, I should be able to figure it out myself. I’m not a child anymore.”

Brains looked at him and suddenly Alan realised they were the same height, shoulder to shoulder, eye to eye.

“Don’t be f-foolish, Alan. We all need our f-family and friends to talk things through, you know that.”

And he did. Alan knew that his brothers didn’t leave things festering, knew that they talked things out with one another.

But not with him.

For a long time, he knew they’d have never let him see their own anxieties and he’d always been too absorbed in his own problem to notice anyway. But things were beginning to change, or possibly slipping into a new and untested rhythm where he could reach out and check on them just as they’d always done for him.

And maybe that meant it would be okay if things weren’t wholly fine.

“It’s been hard,” he admitted. “But mostly because I’ve been worrying about everyone else.”

“Well, you can worry with me whenever you like,” said Brains. “Shall we go see your brother? I imagine by now he’s f-found a thousand questions to ask and will be wondering where we are.”

“He’ll be having too good a time for that,” said Alan with a smile. “He won’t have even noticed we were gone.”

They were both right.

John had hoisted himself up onto the workbench, and was scrolling through old plans on a tablet he’d hacked into, talking a mile a minute as he leapt through the schematics of Thunderbird Three.

Spinning around him, chattering just as quickly with her high voice was EOS, delighted by the opportunity to reconnect with her best friend.

“I see you’ve m-met EOS,” said Brains smiling. “Has she scared off MAX again?”

“I would never,” came EOS’s indignant voice, swivelling the camera array around. “He’s just rude, always running away when all I do is say ‘hello’. Not like John. I’ve missed speaking with you, you know.”

“Why didn’t you speak to me before?” asked John.

She tilted her camera upwards, reminiscent of a pout.

“Scott wouldn’t let me. He said you ‘needed space’.” She looked over at him. “You’ve told me about needing space before, you know. Scott said he’d tell you when the time was right and you’d come find me when you were ready. And I’m so glad the time’s right now.”

John laughed.

“Well, I’m glad to meet you too,” he said sincerely, looking lighter than he had done in weeks.

“But Scott didn’t say the time was right,” blurted Alan.

John rolled his eyes and Brains lay a gentle hand on Alan’s shoulder.

“I doubt he’s had the time to let John know EOS existed. I’ll take responsibility if he’s upset, but given how open we’ve b-been about International Rescue, this won’t be an issue.”

He smiled at EOS.

“And she’s done a great job assisting m-me with work in the mm..meantime.”

“I only came down today because I was bored,” said EOS, lights flashing a deep, moody blue. “Kayo’s better than Gordon, but she gets all sharp and snaps when I try to help.”

“Try to help or try to ‘help’?” asked Alan, grinning a little as he remembered how EOS ‘helped’ last time he and Gordon had taken a turn upstairs.

“Real help,” said EOS indignantly. “John told me I needed a better baseline than Gordon and I wasn’t to equate help with annoyance.”

“I can’t believe I made a real AI,” said John, still watching her in frank admiration. “I remember reading about how they were meant to be impossible only a few years ago.”

“You didn’t make me,” said EOS, playing an audio clip that sounded suspiciously like the old John hmphing. “You only wrote my code; I made myself from there and finished the job off.”

“Team effort then?”

EOS beamed, the ring of green glowing ever bright.

“Always, John. You and I are always a team.”

He beamed back at her then turned to the others.

“So, training? I saw that room with the giant mats, that’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“We’re here to get you stuff for lessons,” said Alan, and John pounced on him at once.

“Yeah, but ‘lessons’ includes training. Scott said so, I have to do both side by side.”

“What curriculum did you f-follow at high school, John?” asked Brains, speaking over Alan’s response and gently steering the conversation away from another argument.

John shrugged.

“Whatever they gave me mostly. I’ve done all my science, math and language credits but I was doing extras. I got to leave to attend the community college in the next town over in the afternoons, nothing complicated. In the mornings I had English, history and whatever arts elective was available.”

“You were doing college stuff already?” asked Alan, looking startled.

John shrugged again and looked down at hands. It didn’t seem he wanted to talk about it.

“Yeah, Scott would drive me over. They let us take a math class together.”

“Wow,” said Alan enviously. “I wish I had that kind of flexibility; it was hard enough convincing the distance learning committee to let me skip a year.”

“Yeah, well,” said John, swinging his legs. “The school didn’t really have a lot of choice, it’s not like they knew what to do with me. Or any of us really. Dad said we might move to New York or something soon, get to a better school and stuff. I guess he’s doing alright.”

He paused.

“Or was. Did.”

His legs stopped swinging and he drew one knee into his chest.

“Whatever.”

The air condensed around them, a sudden prickly tension emanating from John that seemed to cut through any words that Alan might have otherwise said.

He looked over at Brains in a panic, wanting to rush forward but held back by the memory of Scott hovering helpless over him all those weeks ago on that first awful morning.

It struck Alan that he’d not once heard John mention their father in all that time.

“John,” Brains began, but John only gripped his knee tighter, refusing to look up at him.

Brains stopped, bewildered and unsure in a way Alan had never seen him before. He was used to Brains having the answer to every problem, or at least always knowing how to proceed.

“John,” said EOS, bolder than Brains and less reverent of emotion. “You know your father is dead. You can’t avoid mentioning him forever.”

“Says you,” snapped John. “What would you know anyway, you’re only a machine.”

EOS’s lights flashed a dangerous red.

“You are being illogical, John, you know I am not a machine.”

“You’re a machine,” snarled John. “And you can’t help me. Go away.”

“Go, EOS,” said Alan, hollowly. “I know John taught you about giving people space, I think it would be best if you…”

He trailed off as both EOS and John turned their glares towards him.

“Fine,” said EOS loftily. “If you need space, I’ll just go then. The POD computers need to be recalibrated to respond to gravitational strength anomalies anyway.”

“I’ll join you,” said Brains, quickly.

Alan shot a panicked glance in his direction, having no desire to be left alone with a volatile John who didn’t want anyone’s help or platitudes. Brains only gave him a pointed look and shut the door.

If there had been a gap between them before, there was now a chasm whose vast width and depth threatened to engulf Alan, standing on its edge. He still couldn’t think of anything to say, the years of comfort sought from his own brothers ringing hollow in his ears.

John didn’t need to hear recycled reassurances that had comforted Alan ever since he was eight.

But Alan didn’t know what else to offer.

Slowly he crossed the room, hoisting himself up onto the workbench, and sat cross-legged facing his brother.

“If you’re going to tell me some trite crap about how it’s okay to be upset, I promise I will hit you.”

Alan shrugged.

“Fine. Then you’re being a big baby and you should have gotten over it by now. Is that better?”

There was a short silence.

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.”

He didn’t reply and Alan hardly expected him to. He was content to wait while the net of thorns around John began to loosen.

The minutes ticked by, the only sounds their breathing and the odd friendly beeps of machinery scattered around the room.

The health and safety posters and math jokes pinned to the wall behind them suddenly became very interesting when dark patches suddenly appeared on John’s trousers, stained by salted tears.

“I hate him.”

Alan nodded.

“I did too for a while. Hated him for leaving, hated him for going, hated him because he should have known.”

“Not Dad. Me. The other me.”

John swiped at his face angrily.

“He stole my time. I should have gotten more time, that was mine but he messed up and now I’m stuck here and it’s just not fair.”

Alan hummed softly in agreement, wondering what his brothers would say.

Wondering what John would say to himself if he could.

“No, it’s not,” he said at last.

John’s fingers twitched, the tension in his body ramping up yet again and Alan resisted the temptation to rest an arm across his shoulders and pull him close.

“What do you remember about him?” he asked instead, hearing the echoes of his brothers’ gentle encouragement in his voice.

John glanced at him.

“Dad?”

“Yeah,” said Alan. “I mean, you still have six more years on me.”

There was an appraising look in John’s eyes, suspicious of the distraction.

“Don’t you want to talk about him?”

“I think I need to talk about him,” said John hollowly. “But not yet. And not to you.”

He turned away.

The sting of rejection was sharper than any barb he’d traded with John before yet Alan couldn’t bring himself to be hurt. His own precious memories were few and it had taken a long time before he’d been able to wrangle more from his family. He knew too well how silent grief could be, how easily it could isolate.

Be patient, his instincts whispered to him, sounding a lot like the John he was missing. Stay with him.

Alan stayed, inching closer and closer until he sat side by side, shoulder to shoulder with his brother.

Quickly, before he could second-guess himself, he wrapped an arm around his brother and pulled him close. It was no different to when he was small, John’s startled body soon relaxing into his touch. He smiled wearily, soft and familiar as though nothing had changed as he reached up to hold Alan’s arms tighter around him.

“Time will carry us forward,” Alan whispered, the echo of John’s own voice speaking alongside him in his memory.

John huffed a wet sounding laugh.

“That’s what I always said to you. You know, when you were little.”

“I know. I remember. You don’t stop saying it by the way.”

John’s face fell and he pulled away.

Alan dropped his arms and moved back.

“It’s not just time with Dad he stole,” said John. “It was you too. I hate that he got to know you and that he gets to be your hero. I’ll never get that chance. You just keep humouring me because you think one day, I’ll disappear and he’ll come back.”

He scowled a split second too slow to cover his dejection.

Alan winced.

“I do hope that he’ll come back. But not because I want to get rid of you. Because I know he is you. And you’re still him. You can’t know, but you really are just like each other.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

“You are,” insisted Alan. “You both like computers. And space.”

“Lots of people like computers and space.”

Alan laughed.

“That might be true, but trust me no-one likes them the same way you do. Except well… you.”

“But it’s not just that, you’re both stubborn and have the same single-mindedness when it comes to solving problems. You both work hard, both never stop trying to understand things just that little bit more. He hated having to explain himself twice or ask for the same information more than once.”

“And believe me, Scott and Virgil didn’t have a choice, they had to tell you about iR because if they hadn’t, you’d have figured it out in about eight seconds flat – there was no chance they’d escape you; you’re too good at observing people and putting together missing pieces. And just like him you’d never have been able to let that go once you knew about it. You aren’t able to let that go.”

“And that’s because you – both of you – would do anything to help someone who needs it. There’s no way he wouldn’t have done everything he could to help once he’d found out he could do something to help. That’s the kind of person John is. That’s the kind of person you are.”

“Huh,” said John, narrowing his eyes as he thought it over. “When you put it like that it doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Yeah,” said Alan. “Not so bad at all.”

He reached out to ruffle John’s hair, nearly crowing in delight when he succeeded before his brother retaliated with a hard shove and a reluctant smile.

Alan grinned.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“You’re a jerk,” said John, sighing in an overly dramatic fashion. “I suppose this is my lot in life as the youngest now.”

“Unless you grow up, yes,” teased Alan.

He nudged John lightly.

“Now, I think there was something we needed to do down here? Something about lessons.”

John rolled his eyes but he couldn’t hide his eagerness.

“Those simulators. Scott showed me the room but I barely got a proper peek at them.”

“Same single-mindedness,” Alan said again, but he laughed as he jumped down from the counter. “Let’s go see them.”

[Part 6]

#john tracy #alan tracy #eos #brains #hiram hackenbacker #thunderbirds are go #sometimes i fic

[r--u--min3]

l'amour de ma vie

Pure fluff oh my god I hate this. Basically this is one of my very traumatized gay ocs, of whom I've decided to pair with my favorite British cigarette, Gareth Emerson bc he's babygirl. This is fluff for now but feel free to request angst and/or smut although angst is my favorite to write. I can go into their story a little bit later but all you need to know for now is they're a mentally ill teen that's nonbinary in the 80s which causes a lot of insecurity for them because they managed to fall for the gay kid and they had the misfortune of being born as a girl.

Established relationship

No triggers for this one

"Dude, what do you mean it's nothing? That's so cool!" Gareth hollered, grinning at his partner as they casually decided to mention the fact they know a few phrases in French. "It's just a few...like really lovey dovey ones." Atlas mumbled, face glowing a bright shade of red as they remembered why they learned the phrases in the first place.

Atlas Grove sat patiently on the calm patio of the Emerson home, waiting for Gareth to return with snacks from the store as they mindlessly wrote anything and everything in their notebook. Footsteps trailed behind them, though audibly not Gareth's, it was his mom. Eleanor Emerson wasn't a stranger to seeing Atlas appear in her home, it wasn't something for her to complain about either, Atlas was kind and clearly loved her son so why worry.

"Waiting for your loverboy to get back?" The elder questioned, sitting in the sit next to the teen, setting down a cup of water for them. Atlas seemed on a different planet, listening to another French lesson with their Walkman strapped onto their head. It wasn't too loud for them to hear the woman though, and they simply replied, "if you're talking about Gareth — I still haven't confessed." A small sigh of defeat escaped the Grove teen's lips as their gaze found it's way to Eleanor, "well, I'm fixing to, I just don't want it to be obvious. I learned how to say and write 'I love you' in French so I'll probably just leave him a note that says that and wait for him to figure it out."

Sadly, Gareth never exactly figured out what the translation of Je t'aime meant, however Atlas still managed to end up lucky enough to be running their fingers through Gareth's hair, making a mess of it, though it seemed like the boy couldn't care less as the side of his face pressed into the other teen's stomach. "Tell me something in French, I wanna guess what you're saying. I'll give myself three hints."

Atlas sighed a bit to themself, more in content than boredom or something along those lines. How could they possibly get bored of laying like this? Gareth's arms were loosely wrapped around their waist, just enough so that it wasn't uncomfortable for either of them. Gareth was laid on the longer end of the couch while Atlas' body was positioned more in the corner of the L-shaped sofa. The Emerson teen's face was turned towards Atlas' so the pair could look at each other, as if that wasn't what they did all day anyway.

Even if Atlas couldn't see Gareth, his face was engraved into their mind. Every little detail. Every freckle that went from one cheek, to across the nose, then onto the other cheek, and finally scattering around his forehead.

"Well...uh, l'amour de ma vie."

Gareth scoffed playfully, glaring up at Atlas in disbelief, "amour is obviously love." He claimed proudly, nose slightly scrunched as he continued. "And I know ma is my, I took French for like 2 years...in middle school."

Atlas let out a quiet laugh, nodding to show that he was on the right track. They would've spoke but they felt like silence communicated their thoughts better than they did. And who would want to interrupt Gareth's train of thought when it was making him look so...squishy? Like when a cat is so cute you just wanna suffocate it, whatever that is called. His nose was slightly scrunched, making his eyebrows furrow inward slightly as he reached up to scratch his cheek like he was did when thinking intently. "I need a hint."

"Vie means life." Atlas declared, "the whole thing is kinda like a pet name, it's something you call someone you love."

Gareth seemed completely lost but that was fine by Atlas since he couldn't catch them staring at him. As much as they stare at him, they'd probably be able to do a photo-accurate sculpture of Gareth just from memory. Curls messily fell over his freckled forehead, framing his face as his eyes drooped sleepily and he reached around to grab Atlas' free hand.

"I give up, what's it mean?"

"Love of my life."

#gareth emerson fluff #gareth emerson #gareth stranger things #strnager things #season 4

[fbfh]

STAR ANON HERE... I'm just curious what are your fave emo bands....

STAR ANON MY BELOVED!!!!! HOW ARE YOU DOING I MISS YOU <333 first of all, amazing question. I know the defenition of the emo genre is a little loose, but my favorite emo/pop punk bands are currently palaye royale, fall out boy (obvs), and paramore.

palaye royale own this fucking ass okay. remington leith.... ooooh my god. he has singlehandedly made me reconsider my stance on rpf. vampire!remington???? oh my god. oh my god. if I could drown in his voice I would. his cover of closer my nine inch nails actually brought about the second coming of christ. at the very end of no love in la where he goes "I SAID THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS LOVE IN LaAaAyEeee-"????? dead. actually dead. the boom is one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard in my life, line it up is my FUCKING ANTHEM, and dying in a hot tub live is my favorite video on the internet. I don't use the phrase "eargasm" every, but I genuinely can't think of any other way to describe remi's voice. Emerson is an amazing drummer and incredible artist (I am SO jelly of his ability to draw architecture) and Sebastian is a brilliant guitarist and is the brain cell posessor (and probably has to routinely keep remi from jumping off stuff and breaking a limb with only partial success.) the grittiness and sincerety and emotion in remington's voice really just scratches my brain in a way that nothing else does. If I could get his voice made into something tangible I would open my skull and rub my brain against it for hours. I fucking love him.

fall out boy need no introduction. "doing lines of dust and sweat off of last nights stage just to feel like you" from 27??????? lives in my head rent free. been into some of their absolute headbangers from american beauty/american psycho and infinity on high recently like novocaine, jetpack blues (i'm sorry but "do you reMEMBER HOW WE USED TO SPLIT. A. DRINK. itNEVermattEREDWHATitwas. I think." I WANT THAT TATTOOED ON MY FOREHEAD!!!!!!!), thriller (OFC) and i've got all this ringing in my ears all singlehandedly describe my brain chemistry. that's what dopamine sounds like. ALSO fourth of july will never not sound like season 3 of stranger things to me. yk all the promo art where they're all turning around???? that but in gif form while the first few notes are playing. I wish someone would make a slightly harringrove centric edit of the starcourt mall incident and the fair and everything. if anyone knows about any season 3 fourth of july edits PLEASE send them to me because "i'm starting to forget just what summer ever meant to you"????? pls

PARAMORE. FUCKING PARAMORE RAISED ME. paramore got me through my teenage years almost singlehandedly. I remember when after laughter came out. I fucking love this is why. It's almost all I've been listening to. all we know is falling???? brand new eyes???? literally paramore have ZERO SKIPS it's insane. also (maybe I just haven't heard of them) but it's really refreshing to have a female lead singer in a pop punk band bc (again as far as I'm aware) that's not as common as having a male lead singer and IF I COULD MAKE MY INNER MONOLOGUE BE HAYLEY WILLIAMS VOICE??????? PLS- listen all I wanted was you is amazing obviously but my heart?????? MY HEART?????? I wanna scream that at someone and mean it. bucket list. I can't even reccommend any paramore songs bc if I try to think of good paramore songs I'm just going to list their discography. no fucking skips and I stand by that. Hayley's solo albums also feel very twilight bella swan depression forest angst core which I FUCKING ADORE. first thing to go is tattooed in my brain, specifically paired with this scene from the greatest romcom of all time french kiss. match made in heaven.

also lip candy don't have a lot of songs out yet AS I AM TYPING THIS I JUST SAW THEY RELASED AN ALBUM????? BRB LISTENING TO THAT NOW but they sound like what I thought teenager music would sound like when I was a kid (like they nailed it fucking perfectly) and have a very nostalgic feeling and sound to them which I adore. if you stay home and never be the same fucking slap. they slap and a half. it's giving demigod adventurecore roadtrip music.

#going through a moderate family crisis so I'm answsering asks to distarct myself!! #song recs #also i'm listening to lip candys album and it does in fact slap