#of him dancing around his room in his underwear while absolutely belting heart of glass or elton john is making me MELT

[yupitsbambi]

Mammon loves 80s music and if you sneak up at the right time you will absolutely get to see him lip syncing into a hairbrush while dancing to bangers like Come On Eileen, Girls Just Want to Have Fun, Down Under, etc.

you can pry this headcanon from my cold dead hands btw

#bambi speaks #THE THOUGHT #of him dancing around his room in his underwear while absolutely belting heart of glass or elton john is making me MELT #oh my god #sweet pea #mammon #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #obey me #mammon headcanon #mammon headcanons #obey me headcanon #mammon imagine #mammon imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me imagine #obey me imagines #obey me shall we date #obey me x mc

[gureishi]

Hey there! I can't even put into words how much i adore your writing 💕 Could I request 21 (wanna love you in the daylight) with Saeyoung and a female MC? NSFW would be fine if it's okay with you~

I am absolutely delighted that both of you requested something spicy for this prompt with my favorite boy. And thank you soooo much for saying such kind things! Asks like this really make my day ♡♡♡ Aaaand here is...a scenario I’ve been wanting to write for ages—so thank you for giving me a good reason to finally write it!

wanna love you in the daylight

Saeyoung X Reader, E (smut warning!), Words: 2313

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Summer—and the sound of the wind whistling through the rolled down windows weaves itself into the music that’s playing at full volume over the radio; and he’s driving fast, like always, the late afternoon sun lighting up his hair a million shades of red and gold and amber. You lean back in the warm leather seat, using one hand to hold your windswept hair off your face. The winding road is long and empty—there’s no one out here but the two of you, and the endless fields of fragrant lavender, and the summer sun. He has one hand on the wheel and the other draped lazily across your thigh, like he left it there by mistake. 

You’re not headed anywhere in particular.

You are the one who got him out here in the first place: tugging him behind you, a finger looped through the belt loop of his jeans, shaking your head as he protested that he was in the middle of—he just needed to—

He is always in the middle of something, and usually that something is an excuse to stay inside his big, air-conditioned home with its bright colors and empty rooms. But the air outside today feels like swinging on a swing set and running barefoot through the grass; but you want to see the late summer sunset reflected in his sparkling eyes.

So you are driving to nowhere, fast enough that your heart races—and he is content like this: calm and collected in a way he never seems inside the home that he claims is his sanctuary. He feels safest cooped up in his house—but he feels happiest out here, where he can feel the car’s engine like a mechanical heartbeat and he can make perfect turns at top speed on the curvy road and grin when you scold him for it.

You don’t scold him too much. Because you trust him—because he looks like he thinks he’s flying when he drives this way, and you wouldn’t take that away from him.

“Look at the road,” you tell him now. It’s extending ahead in a straight line—up and over a hill—and he has turned his sunlit head to gaze at you.

“Can’t,” he says. He smiles your favorite half-smile, tilting his head, intense eyes somehow taking in all of you at once. You shiver, because he is looking at you with all the heat of the sun that’s beating down on your bare shoulders.

“Saeyoung.” You try on a stern voice and he laughs softly, the very tip of his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. Oh, what you would give to be inside his mind for just one single, shimmering second.

“I’ll be good,” he purrs—and he does turn back to the road, with a dramatic toss of his head, as if to show you how serious he is about it. A new song comes on the radio: a softer one, with a beat that matches the sound of the tires on the road and the fingers of the wind in your hair. Just as you are thinking this—and although he is looking ahead now, accelerating over the little hill—his hand begins to creep ever-so-slowly up your thigh.

You shiver again, nibbling your bottom lip. He seems to be radiating energy—his rough, calloused fingers skim under the seam of your skirt, tap tap tapping their way across your leg. They tickle your skin, and you feel squirmy—they dip inward, curving around your thigh, and you’re startled by the desire that pools suddenly—hot and insistent—in the pit of your stomach.

You crest the hill, and he eases up on the gas, letting the car coast downward. He grins coyly; his eyes glitter with concentration.

“This is dangerous,” you tell him—and you know he hears the raspy longing in your voice, because he smiles bigger.

“I’m looking at the road,” he says, his tone honey-sweet. “Just like you told me to.”

Ah—his fingers find your underwear, which is soft and silky smooth. He knows as soon as he feels it that it’s one of his favorites, and he laughs triumphantly. You hear him through a sort of haze: his index flinger flicks against you insistently now, and there are bright sparks edging in around your line of sight.

“Did you pick these out by accident?” he sings. He is too happy with himself, you think—almost drunkenly—reaching clumsily for the door’s leather handle so you can squeeze it. Your toes curl in your shoes. His finger moves quicker—softer.

“‘Course not,” you pant, hating (loving) how easily he has left you helpless. And it wasn’t that you were scheming, dragging him out of the house so he would touch you under the hot summer sun—but it wasn’t as if you hadn’t thought about it, either.

How could you not, when he looks this good in the sunlight, and the air smells like the sound of ice cubes clinking in a tall glass, and the hum of the car makes your skin shiver?

He accelerates.

You whimper, and the sound mingles with the song that’s playing over the radio and the wind whips you hair around and he makes perfect little circles with his fingertip, eyes on the road, grinning because he loves the way you sound when you’re falling apart.

“Saeyoung,” you gasp.

He swings the car around a sudden bend in the road and you know he feels the way your thighs shake because he is going faster, faster—and there are sparkles everywhere, white glitter and blurry lavender and the rumbling of the engine and the specks of gold dancing off his hair as he drives straight into the sun.

He takes his eyes off the road again.

And it is this—the heat in his gaze and the feeling of his fingers against the smooth fabric of your underwear and the way the sunlight strikes his shoulders—that does it.

You can see nothing but glittering gold and blinding light; you know you’re crying out but you can’t quite hear it; and your body feels weightless, like paper—like his finger alone is tying you to the leather seat, and otherwise you would float off into the cloudless sky.

And then sensations return—your toes, curled tightly in your shoes, and your fingers, tense as they clutch the door handle.

You say his name again. His face swims back into view: golden and delightful and—and—

There is something new there, too. His eyes have darkened, and he looks like he’s lost. His hand trembles.

“You are—that was—” His voice is low, and it sends another little spark through through your weightless body. There is a hunger, and a desperation, in the way he watches you now; he looks like he is about a minute from falling apart himself.

“Saeyoung,” you say—louder and firmer than you’d intended. He jumps, like you’ve taken him by surprise. “Pull over.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

With one hand still on your leg—he’s gripping it now, his fingers squeezing hard enough to bruise—he veers off the road, slowing to a near-perfect stop on the grassy shoulder. The car does jolt the tiniest bit—unusual for him—and he lifts his arm from your leg to throw it in front of you, as if he’s going to single-handedly protect you from inertia.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Didn’t mean to—”

“Get out of the car,” you tell him. His eyes flash. You are already undoing your seatbelt, stumbling ungracefully from the car onto the flattened grass around it. But he is quicker than you are—and by the time you’ve shut the door behind you, he is in front of you.

“That was fast,” you say, giggling. Your head still feels hazy, your thoughts swimming lazily through a pool of pleasure.

“God,” he hisses. His hands fall to your waist, and you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing into your hips as he walks you back into the car door. “I really—I want—”

You throw your arms around his neck, and he understands. He lifts you easily, both hands gripping your thighs—and you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you around the front of the car. He peppers desperate kisses over your neck, across your shoulder; with one hand, he touches the hood of the car—and he winces.

“It’s too hot,” he mutters, his teeth sharp against your skin.

“Don’t care,” you say. 

He lowers you slowly, cautiously—and it is hot, but not overwhelmingly so. You pull him closer with your legs around his waist and he groans.

“Come here,” you say. The look in his eyes is irresistible—the sounds he is making as you buck your hips up, grinding against him, are intoxicating. You unbutton his pants with one hand, tugging down the zipper.

“Impressive,” he croons.

He slips a hand up your skirt again—his other hand bracing you, holding you in place—and tugs your underwear off in one swift motion. You notice that he sets them carefully beside you; they are one of his favorite pairs, after all.

The sun is just behind him, nearly blinding, and its flames seem to dance in his golden eyes. His fingertip flutters over you again—slips inside you, curling delicately.

“I wanna…” he mumbles, gazing down at you, spread out before him on the hood of his sleek little car. You moan and his hips twitch.

“God,” you say. “Please do.”

He grins, and his smile is as bright as the sun that’s just starting to set over his shoulder. He closes the tiny bit of distance—pulling his jeans and his boxers low on his hips, shivering a little as he feels the heat that’s radiating from the car on his exposed skin.

“Are you sure it’s not too—” he mutters: nervous, now, like you haven’t seen him in a while.

And you’ve said his name all sorts of ways today: as a reprimand; as an exclamation of ecstasy—but now, when you say it, it is a plea.

“Saeyoung.”

He obeys. He always does.

He shifts closer, a mysterious sort of delight dancing in his eyes. He steadies you.

“You—” he says. “You are…”

He thrusts into you, and you never hear the next word, if there is one at all—the blinding sparks are back, bursting in your peripheral vision, and you feel him against you, inside you—his hips tremble, and his hand on your waist is firm. You grab fistfulls of his t-shirt, wanting it off, lacking the mental capacity to get it over his head—and he thrusts into you again (harder, rougher), groaning as you toss your head back and grasp at his skin with needy fingers.

He finds a rhythm: and he is looking at you, still looking at you, fire in his eyes; lips parted, breath coming hard and fast. He is trying to keep it together, you think—and the car is warm beneath you, and the sun is hot on your shoulders, and his skin is tingly, sparking, full of fireworks.

You angle your hips upward, your eyelids fluttering shut, your legs feeling like they are suspended in some thick liquid. You need him, need him…

And he lowers his head to your shoulder—moving faster now, harder—and you wish he would absolutely consume you. You squeeze tighter around him and he understands.

He rocks you back into the hood of the car—and it’s too hot, not hot enough, just right—and the wind blows your hair into your face but you can’t quite feel it, and your toes are numb, and your heart is in his hands, in the air, in the steadily cooling engine and the smoke between you and the flames that dance over his skin.

You say his name again.

And he is shaking—rocking into you faster, faster—his hand on your hip trembling as he groans, biting down on your shoulder.

Losing himself entirely.

Losing.

Lost.

Gone.

The sun begins to set. Slowly, slowly—he stills. Starts to breathe.

And he presses his lips to your shoulder more gently now; he lifts his head. Mindlessly, you tangle a hand in his hair and pull him close. His lips taste like your sunscreen and you can feel the rhythm of his heart in your bones.

“Can’t believe,” he whispers, turning his head to nibble the side of your ear. “Can’t believe we’ve never done it on one of the cars before.”

You laugh; you feel giddy. He pulls away carefully, staring into your face as he tugs his jeans back over his hips.

“You’re always so focused on driving,” you say. He shakes his head, and his hair falls beautifully into his eyes. He leans against the hood of the car, beside you, and you take his hand.

“Not true,” he says.

There are magnificent colors in the sky now—lavender like the flowers all around you, pink and orange and gold.

“You like driving,” you tell him. He laughs, and the sound is radiant—like the way the air tastes.

“Yeah, I like driving,” he says. You turn and find he’s looking at you again—and all the colors of the setting sun are reflected back at you in his magnificent eyes. “But I’m focused on something else.”

He smiles a smile of sunsets and the purr of the engine and the balmy air on your shoulders.

You don’t have to ask him what he means. You, say his fire-colored eyes; and you, says his steady hand in yours. Focused on you.

Every second; every minute; every single day.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

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#mystic messenger #saeyoung choi #707 #saeyoung x reader #707 x reader #gureishi writes requests #anon #crustycrusadesstuff #after it all #spicy spaceship

[loserslibrary]

pairing: Stanley Uris/Patricia Blum/Richie Tozier [Stanpatchie] written by: Vega rating: Explicit  word count: 2,711 prompt: “Not sure if anyone is willing, but due to lack of content, would love to see some Richie/Stan/Patty. Love this so much and would love to see some college aged shenanigans with them. Something sexy would be great. Maybe a first time all together. But if not up for that, maybe something with the three just being fluffy and domestic together. Just would love to see more content with them. Thanks!”

Richie stopped in front of Stan and Patty’s apartment door, his knuckles hovering in the air. He’s been here more times than he can count. Mostly because there were so many times he wouldn’t even remember going to their apartment – he would just wake up there with a killer hangover. And there would be Stan, drinking his coffee at the table like a goddamn dad of four, while Patty hummed to herself and made some breakfast. They were a bunch of college kids, but Patty and Stan seemed to have everything together.

Richie remembered when Stan first introduced him to Patty. Well, “introduced” isn’t the right word, since Richie already knew Patty. He was the one who told her to go after Stan.

A small smirk appeared on his face at the memory, before his phone buzzed in his back pocket.

Stanley the Manley: Almost here?

Shit. Why was he so damn nervous about this? Patty probably just needed to tell him something that “couldn’t wait,” even though it absolutely could. He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans before taking a deep breath and knocking.

He heard Patty giggle – a soft and bubbly sound – behind the door before she was shushed by Stan. The door opened and Richie saw Patty hide a smile behind her hand before she turned around and practically skipped to the couch in their living room.

“Don’t mind her,” Stan waved his hand. “She’s just excited.” Was Richie seeing things, or did Stanley just wink at Patty?

“Uh, yeah. Okay.” Richie walked through the door, his body lightly brushing against Stan’s. “So what’s up?” Patty giggled again.

“Oh, you know… we just missed you.”

“Missed me?” Richie glanced at Stan, his eyebrows knitting in confusion before he composed himself and turned back toward Patty. “I mean, I know I’m amazing but c’mon. Stanley? Missing me? Seriously, what’s this about?” Stan rolled his eyes and placed a hand on Richie’s shoulder, leading him over to the couch.

“Just sit down and watch a movie with us.” Richie was sat in between the two of them, not upset in the slightest. After all, they are his best friends, but mostly he’s just confused by the action. Patty had her legs draped over Richie’s, her feet on Stan’s lap. It’s not like it wasn’t normal, hell, Richie has kissed Patty numerous times during games of spin the bottle. He was used to her physical affection. No, what he was confused about were the glances between Stan and Patty, the ones that led to Stan smirking and Patty having to hide her laugh behind her hand.

What the hell was going on?

The credits barely even started before Stan spoke up, and yup – that was definitely a wink.

“So, Patty had an idea…” Patty reached across Richie to playfully slap Stan.

“Oh, don’t pretend we both didn’t have the idea.” She turned to Richie, her hand on his upper arm, squeezing lightly. “You know how he is, always playing innocent.” A wicked smile spread on her lips, her eyes glinting in the yellow light of the room. Richie swallowed thickly, shifting in his seat uncomfortably, blood rushing to his crotch.

Why was he getting so turned on by this?

Stan’s fingers danced across Richie’s shoulder and a chill ran down Richie’s spine. “We were thinking,” his voice was low and husky. “What if you joined us?” Richie’s mouth went dry.

“W-What?” Richie’s eyes grew wide behind his glasses. Patty squeezed his arm again, this time more reassuringly.

“If you want to, of course.” Her voice was softer and warmer than Stan's.

“Yeah!” He whipped his head around to face her so quickly and she giggled again. “I mean, I thought you guys were like… perfect together?” He always thought they were happy with each other. Was their sex life really that bad that they needed him of all people? Stan laughed softly.

“It’s not what you’re thinking. We love each other and we are happy. It’s just…” He looked to Patty for help, not quite sure how to word what he wanted to say.

“We feel happier with you.” She said simply. “It’s like you complete us in a way we didn’t know was possible.” Richie let the words sink in. He… completes them? Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier completes picture perfect couple Stanley Uris and Patty Blum? He must be dreaming.

“Rich?” Stan tried gently, noticing the distant look in his eyes.

“Are you guys fucking with me?” He looked at Stan, trying to see if he’d crack and laugh at Richie for actually believing this. When he didn’t, Richie turned towards Patty, knowing she was never able to keep a secret. There were countless times when Richie’s pranks failed because Patty couldn’t keep a straight face. “I know I’ve joked about being fucked by you guys, so if this is payback for going too far–”

“Richie,” Patty moved her hand to his shoulder. “We’re serious.”

“Oh my God.” Stan rolled his eyes and grabbed Richie’s face, turning it toward him. He tilted his head slightly before pressing their lips together. Stan worked their mouths together for a moment until Richie processed what was happening and started kissing back. He felt Stan smirk against his lips before he pulled back. “Is that proof enough we’re serious?”

“Uh huh,” Richie said dumbly. Patty leaned forward, the word she whispered in Richie’s ear giving him goosebumps.

“Good.” She moved to straddle Richie’s lap, grinding down on him slightly to elicit a hungry moan from him. She captured his lips with her own, moving them together, slowly at first, until she swiped her tongue across his bottom lip. He readily opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, his hands instinctively going to rest on her hips. Stan got up from where he was sitting, moving to stand behind Patty. He leaned down to kiss the spot just behind her ear that made her go crazy. Pulling her hair away, Stan made his way down Patty’s neck, kissing and nipping at the skin gently. She broke the kiss with Richie to lean back into Stan’s touch, a small whine leaving her mouth. Stan rubbed his hands up and down her sides, his touch light.

Richie stared wide-eyed at the view in front of him, his mouth slightly agape. Patty’s face was flushed, accentuating her delicate features, while Stan looked at him with hungry, half-lidded eyes. Stan grabbed one of Richie’s hands, guiding and giving him permission to touch Patty. He hesitated for a moment before slipping his hand under Patty’s thin shirt. Her skin was smooth, almost burning to the touch, as he slid further and further up, cupping her breast. Patty’s eyes fluttered closed, a small smirk appearing on her lips as Richie realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. He opened his mouth to say something, but Stan beat him to it.

“Bedroom. Now.” He practically growled out. Patty let out a small whine when Stan withdrew his hands from her, but she obliged, sliding off Richie’s lap.

“I’m assuming you wanna be in charge tonight?” She had a sly smile on her lips and he hummed in response.

“Wait,” Richie spoke up, very intrigued. “I want her to be in charge.”

“Beep beep, Rich.” Stan said with a roll of his eyes. Patty giggled again, and gently patted Richie’s cheek.

“Next time, baby.” She made her way to the bedroom, stripping off her shirt and throwing it on the floor. Richie watched her as she walked away, entranced by the whole situation. He had to be dreaming.

“C’mon, Richie.” Stan’s voice brought him back to reality. “We shouldn’t keep her waiting.” He winked at him, motioning him to follow, and Richie did, eagerly on Stan’s heels for the short walk to the bedroom.

Patty was lounging on the bed, naked except for white, lacy panties, dragging her fingers on the sheet while she waited for them. She perked up when they entered the room, scrambling to sit up on her knees. Stan walked up to her, capturing her lips in a sweet and tender kiss.

“Couldn’t wait for us, huh, babylove?” Stan teased, his voice soft. She laughed against his mouth and Richie felt his heart swell with love for his friends before he moved toward them.

“So can I get in on this or what?” Stan laughed softly, breaking away from Patty to turn to face Richie. He grabbed the back of Richie’s neck, bringing him into a passionate kiss. This time, Richie noticed how soft Stan’s lips felt against his, noticed the strong grip Stan had on him. Stan bit his lower lip, causing Richie to moan and allowing Stan to deepen the kiss. Richie heard Patty get off the bed, and stand behind him. Her hands wrapped around his waist, first sliding up his shirt before she started palming his growing erection over his underwear.

Stan moved away from Richie’s mouth, leaving sloppy and wet kisses and gently, but firmly, biting along his neck and shoulders.

“Stan,” Patty breathed against Richie’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “Help me out.” Her hands were fumbling with his belt, trying to get it at least loosened enough to slide Richie’s pants down. Stan smirked, but wordlessly obliged. Richie’s pants fell to the ground and Patty turned him around, getting on her knees in front of him. She hooked her fingers under his underwear, sliding them down his legs until they hit the floor. She licked her lips as she stared at Richie’s hard cock, eyes wide and hungry.

“Didn’t think all those jokes were true, Tozier,” Patty teased before she put her lips around him, her hand at his base. She swirled her tongue around his tip, earning a soft groan from Richie. She slowly worked her hand in rhythm with the short bobs of her head. With his eyes fluttering closed, Richie grabbed onto Patty’s hair, pulling slightly. He heard a rustle and a drawer closing behind him.

Suddenly, Patty pulled her mouth off of him, smirking up at him, before she stood up and made her way back to the bed. She sat back, leaning against the headboard. Richie was still processing what just happened when he felt a strong hand on his shoulder, guiding him to the bed as well. He was gently pushed forward, falling onto the soft mattress underneath him and landing on his hands and knees.

“Being a little rough, Stanny?” Richie looked back, smiling at him. Stan, stripped down to his underwear, rolled his eyes, squeezing lube onto his fingers. He nudged Richie’s legs further apart. He teased his fingers around Richie’s rim before he pushed one in. Richie moaned while Stan slowly pumped his finger, waiting for Richie to get accustomed to it before adding another one.

Richie faced forward, seeing Patty’s hand slide underneath her panties, her hand moving in rhythm with Stan’s fingers. Her face was flushed, the blush spreading to her chest, accentuating the faint freckles she had on her body.

“Holy shit,” Richie breathed out. Stan began scissoring his fingers, stretching Richie out, adding a third finger in. A groan left Richie’s mouth, if it felt this good, he could only imagine how Stan would make him feel. Still keeping a brutally slow pace, Stan continued to work his fingers, long fingers brushing against Richie’s prostate with each thrust. “Stan, please.” Stan hummed, wanting Richie to say it. “Please fuck me.”

Stan glanced at Patty, watching the way her chest rose and fell with each jagged breath, her pleasure growing. He caught her eyes and quirked an eyebrow, an unspoken question on his lips and she nodded in response.

“Richie, baby,” Stan leaned forward to whisper in Richie’s ear, breath hot as he withdrew his fingers, and Richie whined at the loss. “I’ll fuck you hard,” he grabbed Richie’s hips and ground them against his clothed hard cock for emphasis, causing him to groan. “But you have to be a good boy and help Patty out, okay?”

“Yesyesyes.” The words tumbled out of his mouth immediately. Patty lifted her hips off of the bed, sliding her underwear off and tossing it on the floor. She scooted closer to Richie, and he hooked his arms under her legs, placing soft kisses against her inner thighs, before moving to her pussy.

Stan hooked his fingers under the band of his underwear, letting the fabric fall to the ground. He took his length into his hand, rolling the condom on and moaning slightly, applying the cool lube to himself. He watched Richie and Patty for a moment – with Richie gently sucking at her clit and folds, before pushing his tongue inside. She moaned loudly and grasped at the bedsheet underneath her, knuckles turning white.

“Richie,” Patty screamed out at the same time Stan lined himself up to Richie’s entrance, gripping his hips with enough pressure to bruise. He pushed in, burying himself to his base, both Richie and Stan groaning at the feeling. He let Richie adjust for a moment before he started moving, thrusting slowly and shallowly into him. Richie moaned with the movement, trying to focus on helping Patty through her orgasm. She rode out her high, bucking her hips forward and gripping at Richie’s hair. Stan slammed Richie’s hips back to meet his, and Richie let out a muffled cry.

“You feel so good, Rich,” Stan growled, earning another moan from him. His pace quickened, the room filled with sounds of groans and pants and skin on skin contact. “Fuck her in time with me, baby.” Richie obliged, his tongue darting in and out of Patty at the same brutal pace, his hand snaking around to rub at her clit, until she was nothing but a mumbling mess, screaming out “yes” and profanities.

Patty’s thighs started to tremble, the pressure in her stomach building up again. She held Richie’s face to her pussy as she orgasmed. One of Stan’s hands left Richie’s hips, moving to grab onto his leaking dick. He spread the precum around the head with his thumb before he started to work at the same rate as his thrusts. Patty let go of of Richie’s hair, her head falling back against the pillows in bliss. He licked around Patty’s folds before kissing her thighs again, leaving the occasional bite. Richie moaned against her skin, Stan’s pace becoming rougher and more chaotic as he chased his orgasm.

“Fuck, Stan I’m gonna–” The words died on his lips as Richie came all over Stan’s hand, his head falling to rest on Patty’s stomach. Stan continued to fuck into him, wiping his hand on Richie’s thigh before placing it on his hip again. He slammed into him, their hips meeting as he spilled into the condom. He held onto Richie while he rode out his high, fingernails digging into his skin, leaving crescent shaped marks. Stan pulled out, Richie whining a little even in his tired state. Patty gently ran her fingers through Richie’s hair, telling him how good he did in hushed whispers. Stan smiled at them before falling onto the bed next to them, arm slung around Richie’s body.

“You know, Richie,” Stan spoke softly. “We do want you to be with us. Not just for sex.”

“I know,” he mumbled against Patty’s skin, tickling her and causing her to giggle. “And you know I love you guys, right?” He lifted his head and rested his chin on top of her stomach, looking at the two of them with vulnerable eyes.

“We know” Patty’s voice cracked a little as she placed her hand against his cheek, looking at him softly. “We know.” 

#stanpatchie #stanpatchie fic #stozier #stanpat #richiepat #ours #by vega #ours: stanpatchie #notsfw #bottom richie #establishing relationship #poly ships #poly ships: stanpatchie #richie tozier #stanley uris #patty blum

[krizaland]

Imagine- Yandere!Dib (or just stalker!dib) x reader x Zim Where the reader recognizes dibs real creepy behavior and ends up going to Zim zam their friendo/crush for comfort and/or protection. And then that freinddhip becomes something more? Sorry for the long thing

Don’t be sorry! I love your idea! I kinda got carried away so there’s gonna be more than one chapter!

Be warned: Yanderes are creepy fucks. This fic will contain stalking, and obsessive behaviors.

Ever since you were little, you always were a little too nice. Anytime you saw someone in trouble, you always had the urge to help them no matter what.

Usually, most people would except your help and you would walk away feeling like you’ve done the right thing.

You never once regretted helping someone in need.

That is until Dib came along.

It all started in Elementary Skool. Dib was being picked on by a gaggle of bullies.

They dangled his favorite camera in front of his face while they pelted him with insult after insult.

Just hearing the sounds of Dib’s pained cries made your heart ache.

You remember pushing the bullies away and saving the camera.

The moment you handed the camera back to Dib, you noticed an unnerving look behind his glasses.

At first you brushed it off and tried to continue on with your day.

However, Dib insisted that you stay and talk with him.  You didn’t think much of it so you decided to humor him.

That was your biggest mistake.

The next thing you were bombarded with a flurry of conspiracy theories and accusations of random students being bigfeets and vampires in disguise.

Needless to say, you were pretty creeped out and decided to avoid him from that day fourth.

However, your attempts were all in vain.

No matter where you went, Dib would always be there, ready to drown you in another wave of paranormal nonsense.

Things only got worse as you got older.

Dib’s desire for your friendship had mutated into something far far worse.

To say he had a crush on you was a major understatement!

He would always follow you around and try to get your attention.

Whenever you needed something, Dib would miraculously have it for you the next day.

However, you knew that if you accepted the ‘gift’ you’d be subjected to yet another paranormal rant.

So you decided to politely decline his gifts, no matter how bad you needed the item in question.

Dib seemed to give up on you after he figured out you weren’t interested in his ‘gifts’.

Or so you thought.

You soon found your locker flooded countless love notes and slabs of heart shaped meat.

Each note was creepier than the last and you couldn’t get the stench of rotting meat out of your locker no matter how much you cleaned it.

You then started to notice cameras following you wherever you went.

At first you assumed it was just part of the Skool’s security system. After all, you’ve heard rumors that the Skool tends to watch students like hawks to make sure they don’t cheat on exams.

However, it didn’t take long for you to start noticing the same cameras peeking outside of your window.

Needless to say, you decided it was best to keep your blinds shut from that point on.

Of course, closing your blinds wasn’t enough to stop the creepy coincidences happening wherever you went.

Not by a long shot.

You soon found some of your underwear and dirty socks had mysteriously vanished.

The trashcans outside your house always rustled throughout the night. Only to be found tipped over by morning.

Things only got creepier at Skool.

You would always feel someone breathing heavily down your back whenever you talked to another student.

You would turn around but no one would be there.

To make matters worse, the next day, the student you had talked to would go missing.

Whenever the class needed to work in pairs, Dib would somehow always end up being your partner.

You always dreaded being paired with Dib for when he was’t spewing his usual brand of paranormal nonsense, he would often spend his time showering you with the creepiest compliments imaginable.

Things got even worse when the Skool Dance rolled around.

Dib wasted no time and sauntered up to you.

“Hey, Y/N! Glad I caught you! I was wondering if you had a date to the dance yet?”

You could see the madness oozing from his amber eyes with every word he spoke.

“Oh! Well I’m actually not going to the dance.” You admitted as you rubbed the back of your head.

“Oh? Why not?” Dib asked as he drew closer.

“Because I have a lot of homework to do.” You knew that wasn’t too far from the truth. You did have a lot of homework but that wasn’t the main reason.

“That’s why? You know, I could help out with that, if you want.” Dib offered, his eyes continued to stare into your soul.

“No. No that’s ok! I’d prefer to do it all myself. A-Anyway, I gotta get going! I gotta get to class and stuff so bye!”

And with that, you ran as fast as your legs could take you.

A creepy smile spread across Dib’s face as he watched you escape.

“Just you wait, Y/N, you’ll be mine someday…Then we’ll be together forever.”  

A small giggle escaped his throat. The giggle quickly grew and grew until Dib erupted into full on maniacal laughter.

The next day, your savior had arrived.

Standing next to Ms.Bitters was the cutest boy you had ever seen!

He may have had lime green skin but you couldn’t care less. After all you’ve seen way weirder kids walk through the door before.

“Class, I would like to introduce the newest, hopeless appendage to the student body. His name is Zim” Ms. Bitters grumbled “Zim, if you’ve got something to say, say it now because after this moment, I don’t want to hear another sound from you!”

Zim was taken aback by Ms. Bitters’s outburst but he quickly regained his composure.

“Hello, friends. I am a perfectly normal human-worm baby. You have nothing, absolutely nothing to fear from me. Just pay no attention to me and we’ll get along just fine.”

You struggled to stifle a giggle as Zim spoke. He sure did have a way with words.

Dib’s mouth was agape as he pointed at Zim. His body shook with anticipation as his crazed mind searched for words to shout.

“Take your seat now Zim!” Ms. Bitters snapped as she slithered back to her desk.

Zim cheerfully plopped down into the seat next to yours, only adding to Dib’s madness.

“Today’s lecture is about outer space and about how it will EVENTUALLY IMPLODE IN ON ITSELF!” Ms Bitters sneered.

Zim immediately hopped up onto his desk and waved his arms around.

“Yes, Zim?”

“In the event of say, a full scale alien invasion, how prepared do you think this planet’s defenses would be? Tell me.” Zim’s voice quivered as he sat back down.

“As I was saying, the universe is just doomed…doomed..dooooomed.” Ms Bitters crooned as bugs crawled around her face.

“Ok, am I the only one here who sees the alien sitting in class?” Dib asked as he managed to regain his composure.

The other students looked all around the room while your buried your face in your textbook.

You felt your stomach churn as you knew that Dib would harass you about Zim at lunchtime.

“There!” Dib snapped as he snapped a finger in Zim’s direction. “Right there!”

A horrified expression spread across Zim’s face as pink sweat dripped down his face.

“That is no kid! He’s an alien An alien! One of the monsters I’ve been talking about! He’s here to conquer Earth-”

“Oh not this again. You’re crazy.” Zita huffed as she folded her arms.

“What about his horrible green head?!-”

“INSOLENT FOOL-BOY! It’s a skin condition.” Zim interjected.

“And he’s got no ears! Is that part of your skin condition?! Huh?! No ears?!” Dib whined as he gestured to his own ears.

“Yes.” Zim replied as he somberly looked down at his desk.

“Man, Dib! You think that just because someone looks different you can call them an alien?” one student asked.

“I guess Old Kid is an alien too, huh?” Another added.

“How’s it going?” Old Kid chirped with a wave.

Dib sighed and got up out of his seat.  He scribbled away on the chalkboard before pulling out a metal pointer.

“Ok, this is us,” Dib pointed to a drawing of a naked human man. “And over here, this is Zim!” Dib pointed to a crude drawing of an alien.

“See the difference? Anyone? Anyone? Questions?”

One student raised his hand and grumbled.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with you? All you talk about is seeing aliens and ghosts and seeing bigfoot in your garage.”

“He was using the belt sander. Y/N! Back me up here! I know you can tell the difference!” Dib pleaded as he turned to face you.

Sure enough, everyone’s eyes were on you as you sunk into your seat.

You opened your mouth to speak but Zim spoke first.

“Oh Puh-lease! He’s always saying stuff! I remember that one time Mhm-Hmm.”

“Hey! You just got here!” Dib snapped as he zipped up to Dib’s desk, “Don’t let him trick you! I know what I’m talking about! And there it is. Sitting. Right. There.”

“Well he does look pretty weird.” Said one student.

“Yeah! And he is sitting.” Added another.

“You see? Actual proof that all of the things I’ve been saying are actually right!” A crazed grin spread across Dib’s face as he spoke.

You looked over and saw poor Zim sweating bullets. You knew all too well what it felt like to be humiliated by Dib.

You decided you had to do something. And fast.

“Finally a way to prove that I’m…That I’m..”

“That I’m crazy.” You mumbled from behind your textbook.

“Ok, now that makes sense.” Zita admitted as she sat back down.

“Man, we almost believed him.” Another student added.

Dib let out a growl as he shot Zim a fiery glare. Zim returned the glare in kind and prepared for a fight.

“Doomed…Doomed…Doomed…Ok go to lunch now!” Ms. Bitters commanded.

And with that, everyone flied out of the classroom and headed for the lunchroom.

Next

#invader zim #invader zim x reader #dib x reader #yandere #Anonymous

[cyberrat]

26th Batch Of Fics: 5th Fill

Lúcio/Doomfist – romance; bit of alcohol; bit of big dick humiliation; size difference – Lúcio and Doomfist are in wuv.

---

Akande has been barely able to keep in his chair during their dinner. Lúcio looked… beautiful- no, delicious in his suit, sitting there and eating and laughing and talking while Akande, usually quite the charmer himself, could only sit and be in awe.

Lúcio is beautiful. A treat. A vision. 

Akande had been fascinated out on the battlefield, trying to catch glimpses of the young medic and feeling his cock stir whenever the little nightingale manages to slip out of his grasping arms, laughing and pushing him away with a wave of sound produced by his weapons.

He’s never been able to watch him up close like this. To have him sit still for once when all he has are memories and videos of him on stage where he is constantly moving like a hummingbird.

He is painfully beautiful.

He tells him as much when he has somehow managed to coax him into his hotel room, kneeling before him and holding one tiny foot in one of his hands; they look as big as saucepans next to the dainty limbs of the young man.

“Sweet talker,” Lúcio accuses him with a broad grin and Akande’s chest goes tight at the sight of his dimples. They look just as delicious as the rest of him.

He shakes his head slowly and grabs one of their wine glasses, carefully between two thick fingers, yet instead of putting it to his own mouth, he offers it up to Lúcio, urging him to drink, which he does with a surprised, amused little squawk.

A bit of moisture is trickling down the corner of his mouth. Akande is absolutely fascinated.

It is not his intention to get Lúcio drunk – he’s just wanted to watch his Adam’s Apple move – but seeing him tipsy is just as delicious as the rest.

He becomes bolder, slouching a bit more from his prim perch on the edge of the chair, and pushing his little foot first into the palm of Akande’s loosely grasping hand – and then against the big warm bulge of his cock.

Akande whines. He barely dares touching the young man; he seems so… delicate. Dainty. Akande feels like the worst kind of brute when he grabs at him; like Lúcio’s bones have to snap like brittle sticks if he isn’t careful enough – but Lúcio will have none of that.

He lifts his foot after pressing the sole against the fat cock, and nudges against Akande’s chest. He goes down immediately; a big lion capitulating in front of a kitten.

Lúcio stands above him, legs spread into a V about his broad hips that has his dress pants pull tighter across his own cock; a delicious little line down one thigh.

He begins to strip for Akande, and Akande almost wants to shield his eyes from the sight, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. He can’t remember the last time he’s been so nervous. Years back, maybe, when he’s still been a lot younger and trying all of this out for the first time.

Lúcio doesn’t seem nervous at all. He is grinning and giggling, eying Akande like he is a meal; as if he hadn’t been wined and dined just half an hour before.

“You’re so big!” he says. It sounds awed. He is getting naked, and Akande is distracted thoroughly.

He tries to get naked as well, but way too late. Lúcio has already stripped – he’s not worn any underwear… he’s gone to their dinner freeballing it and had smiled at Akande so sweet and innocent – and is right on him, giving him but a moment to enjoy the sight of his silky looking skin and the jut of his little cock.

He can barely feel his weight when Lúcio sits on his thick thighs and begins to fumble around with his belt.

“I’ve thought about this since I got your message,” he tells him easily. “I’ve wanted to know…”

His little fingers are dancing across Akande’s cock, teasing and exploring, feeling around the humid, hot inside of his underwear until he finally manages to curl his fingers around the shaft and ease it out of its confines.

“Wow…”

He’s holding Akande’s cock up against his belly. It is… grotesquely big looking. Akande looks for but a second before he has to glance away. He’s nearly reaching to the young man’s ribcage.

He has the sudden, overwhelming desire to just apologize to Lúcio over and over again for how impossibly big he is against the other man.

“Look at that!” Lúcio sounds so excited, Akande glances back despite his better judgement. He has shifted a bit until his own cock is right there next to Akande’s pointing up eagerly. It looks beautiful. Delicious. Perfect.

It is… impossibly small next to Akande’s grotesquely big cock.

Lúcio looks like he has none of Akande’s qualms. In fact, he looks like he has the time of his life.

He has both hands curled around the thick cock and is slowly stroking it up and down. He leans down and rubs his cheek against the glistening tip after pulling down on the foreskin.

He snuggles with it like it is one of his most beloved toys.

“That won’t fit…” he murmurs softly with just a hint of a slur, soft brown eyes curling up to watch Akande who is about to sputter about him not having to fit anything anywhere when he finishes: “...tonight. But I will train.”

Akande closes his eyes, dragging a hand across his mouth and chin.

Oh… goodness...

#cyberratting writes stuff #lucio/doomfist #doomcio #romance #size difference #big dick humiliation

[dreamgloe]

half of my heart | part one - jhs

despite the stress and exhaustion of having a rambunctious two year old, you two manage to love each other just as much as the day you were married. while at the wedding of a dear friend, you reflect on the man you consider yourself very lucky to call your life partner.

pairing: jung hoseok x reader genre: fatherhood au warnings: fluff, light sexual content, intoxication words: 11,732 author’s note: finally finished this monster after rewriting a few times. it’s still not perfect but whatever. anyway, i hope you all enjoy the adorableness that is hoseok as a dad. :’)

Hubs [01:57 AM]: wehre are you? Hubs [01:57 AM]: i’m not quite sur wher iam ? You [02:00 AM]: what can u see? Hubs [02:00 AM]: that ugly foutnain with the meraid? You [02:01 AM]: look towars teh mointains and then go right down the sidewalk and get in the elevator back to tthe rom Hubs [02:02 AM]: ok ti think i have it. What woudl i do with out? I love youuu You [02:02 AM]: you too xoxoxoxxxX

You had stumbled back into the room about thirty minutes ago. It was easy for you to abandon the bachelorette party because you weren’t in the wedding party. You had no obligations to making sure that Eun-ha, Taehyung’s bride-to-be, made it back to her room in one piece. But...being the tender hearted mom friend that you were...you drunkenly helped two of her bridesmaids get her into her room on the other side of the floor.

You hadn’t drunk so much in a long time. You could blame it on young parenthood but your husband Hoseok and you...well, were much happier drinking just one glass of wine and calling it a night. However, this weekend was a nice change, the two of you happy to attempt to prove you were more than up to having a good time. You weren’t the first of your friends to have kids but you were the second. Jin and his ball-buster of a wife, Hyunjae, had a boy only a handful of months older than Haneul.

While Hoseok took his duties as a groomsman seriously, it was obvious that the two of you took advantage of the situation. The fact that Taehyung’s parents were more than happy to babysit Haneul during the bachelorette/bachelor party festivities was an absolute blessing. Taehyung resembled his own father in the way that kids absolutely adore him. Hoseok and you had gone to their cabin villa to set everything up that Haneul might need and Taehyung’s parents had ushered you out quickly under the pretense that they had grandparent fever and the two of you more than deserved a fun night out with friends.

Neither of you hadn’t been away from your daughter for more than two days in the last two years, something your friends and family were adamant about pointing out. So even a night away from your little girl had been daunting. But...from the look of your text conversation with your husband, both of you had eventually eased into the night’s festivities. Dinner with your respective groups and then a night on the town.

The both of you were definitely a little more than toasted. As your husband texted you, you were lying on the large king bed, still in your clothing from the night out, crossbody bag still strung across your body, the bright screen of your phone illuminating your face, chin pressed into your chest. It wasn’t a pretty sight, you were sure, but you couldn’t bring your drunk self to care enough even when you heard Hoseok open the door. After almost walking into a wall, he made his way into the room, throwing his phone onto the standard hotel room desk, the phone almost not making it. You peered over your phone to see him attempting to shed his clothing. Practically melting into the comfortable bed, you didn’t move. After cursing under his breath, you dropped your phone on your chest and reached out to him with ‘grabby hands.’

“Come here. I’ll help,” you said, a bit muffled from the angle at which you were resting your head against the pillows. You saw him struggling with some of the small buttons on his oxford shirt as he looked at you. He sighed before making his way over to you. Reaching out with your arms to pull him onto the bed with you, you forgot about your phone as it fell to your side. He managed to wiggle himself in a seated position so he’s not crushing you while you haphazardly fumble your hands to his front. You try your hand at his buttons and help him--with some time--get out of the shirt without ripping anything.

“You’re warm,” you say, wrapping your hands in his cotton undershirt, “But it has to come off.” Hoseok gave you a buzzy, slightly lopsided grin as he reached behind to take the shirt off by the back of the collar. He dropped it to the floor and you scrambled to your knees, your sore toes rubbing against the box of your heels. Lazily wrapping your arms around his bare shoulders, you push your face into his neck. You can smell the liquor on him but that doesn’t stop you from inhaling loudly, prompting your husband to chuckle. He was definitely used to your weird obsession with his neck by now.

“How was the party?” you mumble into his skin, pressing your lips to the juncture of his neck and shoulder sloppily. The guys had just planned a similar night of boozing and running around the town at the base of the mountain. You could feel him let his weight fall against you.

“It was really fun. Jin and Jimin really outdid themselves this time,” he said, slurring his words just a little. “Strippers?” you asked and he nodded against you. “Strippers,” he confirmed, “VIP room at a club on the edge of town.” You weren’t annoyed that Hoseok had gone to a strip club with his friends and you’d never been a jealous significant other. Not with Hoseok, not when you knew there was no reason for him to stray.

“Jin and Jimin made sure Taehyung had at least four lap dances,” he said, removing himself from you so he could finish undressing. There was no way he was gonna be able to put on his pyjamas. Boxers to bed it was. You smiled doofily at him. “I hope you got one too,” you said, leaning all your weight onto one arm as your husband fumbled out of his belt and pants. He smiled at you, his hair messy and in need of a lengthy brushing.

“I did,” he said as he maneuvered you up into a standing position. “Your turn,” he said quickly before turning back to the subject, “Nice girl. We had a good talk. She’s working her way to becoming a nurse. Has a daughter a year older than Haneul. We showed each other pictures.”

First things first, he helped take the purse that was still draped across your body off. Throwing it on the chair near the bed, he continued his work. He worked on peeling the bodycon dress off you. It was a little clumsy and you decided to help him by toeing out of your shoes, a pair of not too high plum purple stilettos.

The two of you worked to peel the dress off and soon enough, both of you were in your underwear. “Mm cold,” you said, not really thinking. Maybe he’d pick up his undershirt for you. But then you remembered who you married. “Get in, I’ll keep you warm,” he said, kissing you full on the lips. The kiss doesn’t last long--to your disappointment--because your husband is pulling back the covers enough for the both of you to slip right in. He helped push you in, coming in close behind you. It had been a while since the two of you hadn’t been adults and worn pyjamas to bed and soon enough, you couldn’t say you were still cold.

His arms wrapped around you, his face in the crook of your shoulder, you say back to him, “We don’t have Haneul tonight…” He hummed into your shoulder before you wiggled around to face him. “Hoseok,” you said softly, reaching your hands to his face and hair, his eyes heavy-lidded. “That’s true,” he says, a very sleepy, drunk smile on his face. Pressing his lips to yours, his arms encased you again, holding on tighter. He splayed his hands against your shoulder blades, the pads of his thumbs pressing into your skin. His fingers were warm and if you already weren’t pretty toasted, you’d say that his touch could make you feel as drunk.

It was really rare that the two of you had more than an hour or two to yourselves. Being in your husband's’ arms was probably on your top five list of best feelings. Another happened to be kissing your husband, which you were returning at that moment. You held his face in your hands as he kissed you. Both of you were still pretty drunk and the kiss was a little messy but it was warm just like Hoseok’s hands. You melted into him and moved your hands from his face and hair to his shoulders, gripping tightly as he moved from your mouth to your jaw.

“Probably only been a week but I’ve missed you,” he mumbled, his breath hot on your face.

“Mmm, missed you too,” you said to him, reveling in the idea of having the man with his arms wrapped around you to yourself for a few hours without any disturbance. You sighed as his hands wandered to the clasp of your bra, freeing you relatively quickly despite both of your states of inebriation. After tossing it over the side of the bed, he rolled you over, using the momentum to get on top of you. Both of you were chest to chest and while you loved his lips, you couldn’t help but follow the buzzy feeling that led your mouth to the dip of his clavicles.

“Come back up here,” he whined, fingers going to push your shoulders down. “Nope,” you said, “Got a few hickeys to make.” You smile into the area between his clavicle and the bend of his neck. He sighed as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to keep him closer. Salty, he tasted salty. “Tequila, sweetheart? Really?” you ask in mock irritation before moving your lips up to the side of his neck.

“That’s what happens when you let Jimin choose the bottle service,” he said with a bit of breath, one of his arms then moving down to your waist, “I say never again because I know the hangover is going to be bad tomorrow but knowing them, they’ll talk me into it again either for Jimin’s next boys’ night or for Yoongi’s bachelor party.” You stopped sucking a bruise into Hoseok’s neck to look at him with a quirked eyebrow.

“You think it’s gonna be Yoongi next?” you asked him, a little surprised at his statement. He nodded and added, “I know he and Sookja have been dating a shorter time than Jimin and Chaeyoung but the guy is mad about her. Absolutely done for. I’ve never seen the guy talk about anyone or anything as much as he talks about music. It’s Sookja this and Sookja that.” You melted at that. You’d known Min Yoongi for years and the most passionate you’d ever seen him was when Hans Zimmer retweeted an article about young film composers that the younger had been featured in. He even asked the group to engrave the tweet on his tombstone.

“That’s so sweet, though,” you said, returning to your work on his neck, “I’m happy for him.” Your hands had moved down to his arms, firm and warm but soft-skinned. You peered up and you watched your husband’s eyes gently close and his breathing starting to deepen. Oh no, you knew that look. You whined jokingly and said, “Are you really tired right now?” He couldn’t even open his eyes to peer down at you. “No….” he said with just a hint of a question but then quickly buckled under your gaze. He tried to go in for another kiss. It was a little more aggressive and obviously he was trying to compensate.

You kissed him back but ended it quickly. Both of you were exhausted, drunk, and as much as you wanted to explore your husband’s body, you had things to do tomorrow. A brunch with Eunha and some things to help Hoseok with for his groomsmen duties.

You sighed heavily and pressed two kisses to his shoulder before extracting yourself from his arms. He made a noise as you lifted yourself away from him and off the bed, padding over to the ice bucket on the minibar. You scooped two glasses full and then ran them under the faucet. Bringing both of the glasses over, you could see Hoseok looking at you with tired, hooded eyes. “Here,” you said, slowly handing him the water as to not spill the icy water all over the bed and him, “Drink up so Haneul doesn’t have to see mommy and daddy with raging hangovers.”

He took the drink from you, careful to not spill it on himself while lying in the bed. You couldn’t help but smile even when he eventually did slosh a few drops onto the bed while taking a sip. You downed the whole thing, placing the ice-filled glass on the nightstand before crawling back into bed. He reached over to the other nightstand behind him to place his drink down as well before coming back to you. “Sorry, love,” he whispers sleepily into your hair as he brings you closer to lay on his chest.

“No need to apologize, honey,” you slurred, slowly finding yourself just as sleep. Besides, Hoseok was your husband and this was just a weekend, one with commitments. You had forever with the man you were currently snuggling into...even if he occasionally left you frustrated.

It was moments like this that you knew you would never be happier.

It was 8 AM when the alarm you remembered to set before going to Eunha’s bachelorette party went off.

“What the fuck,” you heard your husband say from behind you; it was muffled as his head as ensconced under the fluffy duvet, only the top of his head peeking out. You saw this sight as you managed to untangle yourself from his arms and sit up on the entirely too plush mattress. You looked behind you to see him moving slightly and mumbling from under the duvet. You heard something that vaguely sounded like, “My head.” You laid your head on his duvet covered body, the best kind of pillow.

“Did you finish your water?” you asked. He shook his head, which you could see from the top of the opening. You rubbed your hand over the blanket-covered figure before lifting yourself off of him and off the bed. Rounding the corner to the bathroom, you searched your cosmetics bag for a bottle of Advil and shook it as you reentered. Getting him another glass, you couldn’t help but adore the tufts of hair appearing about the blanket. Cute, you thought to yourself. Making your way back over, you gave him three liquid gel capsules and the water as he finally emerged from the covers. He looked cute, yet awful at the same time.

You didn’t feel horrible, just a bit of dry mouth, which you were now curing with your own water and one capsule. You’d be perfectly fine in about an hour and a half, which according to the clock was when you were going to have to pick up Haneul from Taehyung’s parents.

Moving to lay on on your stomach on top of the duvet next to Hoseok, you sighed as he finished taking the last capsule between his fingers. For as long as you’d known Hoseok, he was never good at holding his liquor. Not that you were either, but you usually wound up being the one taking care of him whenever the two of you got drunk. He’d get red in the face and your hair would stick to your face all sweaty. “Sweetheart, I’m going to hop in the shower,” you said, hearing a muffled sound of acknowledgment. You put your arm back around the blanket-covered lump on the bed that is your husband.

“We have to pick up Haneul in an hour and a half from Mr. and Mrs. Kim,” you said, rubbing up and down what you are pretty sure is his left hip. He mumbled again as he held out his drink to you. Putting it quickly on your nightstand, he tried to mozy back into the covers. “Okay,” he said, on his way under.

You were in the mood to tease him this morning. “Do you want to join me?” you ask quietly but loud enough for him to hear. He sat up so quickly but it was obviously immediately a mistake. He groaned in pain, latching his hands into his hair on his head. “Nevermind,” you say, “Go back to sleep. You can hop in after I’m done and I’ll go grab Haneul.” You can’t help but roll your eyes as he reaches over to lightly kiss you on the cheek with morning breath before burying himself back under. He was lucky that you found him endearing otherwise you would be dragging him out of bed and pushing him into the shower right that moment.

Besides, he needed to be back in action if the three of you were going to spend the day together as a family before the rehearsal dinner. Hoseok only had to show up to the dinner and really had no other duties that night. However, you had to go to a brunch for Eunha but you wanted to spend even just a little bit of time with Hoseok and Haneul before you had to make an appearance. The rest of the day was yours, though, and you were actually really excited. The two of you had been so busy the last few weeks getting everything in order. Haneul had spent a lot of time with your mother because you were behind on some of your work and watching out for a child in the terrible twos could be quite the challenge when you had a million projects to work on.

You quickly made your way to the bathroom and started the rain shower up. The hotel was rustic but had many modern amenities and appliances. While you stood under the shower, you couldn’t help but happily think about plans for the day. While you were at the brunch, Hoseok was going to take your daughter to get pancakes at the large buffet dining room with the groomsmen. She would be more than entertained by her father and all his friends.

After showering and getting ready, you push Hoseok to get up and get ready too as you make your way out the door. As he walked into the bathroom, you gave him a quick peck on the lips that he returns with a slightly painful smile. “Be right back. Gonna go grab Haneul.”

Mr. and Mrs. Kim were almost reluctant to let your daughter go. “I miss having one that young. So much fun,” Mrs. Kim says fondly as Mr. Kim hands the happy-looking girl over to you. “Did you have fun?” you ask your daughter, who practically screams in agreement. You thank Taehyung’s parents profusely before saying your goodbyes. On your way back to the room, Haneul finds a friend in a older lady’s emotional support dog. The dog is smaller than her and sweet and it takes all your heart and soul to seperate them and see that small sad look on her face. “Puppy…” she says, trailing off.

“I know, baby. Puppy!” you say. You think Haneul is too young for a puppy but one day, you want her to have one. You’ve always been a dog person and you had many growing up. It would be amazing if she could experience the joy of having furry friends growing up like you did. Hoseok also loved dogs too but would agree with you that Haneul was still too little.

“One day, we will get you one. One day, sweetie.”

The moment you step into the room with a talkative Haneul in your arms, Hoseok is coming out of the shower in a towel. Why did he always have to look so good?, you thought to yourself. He even looked like he felt a lot better, lighting up when he sees your daughter.

“Hey sweetie,” he says, coming closer to ruffle her hair and grabs her head lightly with both hands to place a kiss on top of it. “Did you have fun with Mr. and Mrs. Kim?” he asked and when his daughter nodded, her big eyes on display, “Yay. I also know you were a good girl for them…” He spoke lightly in his ‘dance teacher’ voice that it could almost be perceived as a question. Haneul nodded enthusiastically, proud of herself, the epitome of a daddy’s girl. You couldn’t blame her, though, Your husband had that power.

Mr. and Mrs. Kim had been kind enough to dress her for you. She was good to go, cute short sleeve pink shirt, jeans, and little sneakers, all ready for a day of mountain fun. Hoseok gave Haneul another kiss before walking over to his suitcase to grab his clothes. It wasn’t long before you were handing her over to him so you could attend the bridal brunch.

“Be a good girl for daddy,” you said as you kissed Haneul on the head, “I’ll be back soon and we’ll go have fun.” With that, you finished getting ready while Hoseok threw on some jeans and a collared shirt while amusing your daughter, who was now pulling on tufts of her daddy’s hair. “Ow, ow, baby. Don’t pull,” He said, gingerly taking his hair out of her fingers. You finished putting on some lipstick before kissing both of them goodbye and heading out the door.

The bridal brunch was lovely and the food was great but your brain was on Hoseok and Haneul for most of the event. Not that that was new or anything. But, it was nice when the ladies asked you about Haneul. You proudly showed off pictures of her at the park, pictures of her with Hoseok and other random tidbits. Eunha even tipsily confessed to you the night before that she already had baby fever. She said that she couldn’t wait to have a little one like Haneul, that both she and Taehyung wanted a family practically immediately. Taehyung was great with Haneul and was one of her two designated babysitters.

The brunch ended quickly and as you were passing the main dining hall, you swore you could hear the ring of your husband’s laughter. You made your way into the dining room, letting the hostess know that your husband was inside. There at large table containing the groomsmen party, is your husband, holding your child up to the table as she does some little dance. Taehyung and Jimin are singing some pop song as she waves her arms for the table. All the groomsmen are eating it up. It looks as though they are all done, just knee deep in endless mimosas before they head off before the rehearsal dinner that night.

You smiled as you approached the table, making eye contact with a bunch of the guys, most of whom were close friends with Taehyung, Jimin, and your husband. There was Yoongi, who was a film composer, Namjoon, who was one of the youngest higher-ups in his large company’s entire history. There was also Jungkook and Jin, who both ran a well-respected restaurant where you all lived. A few other childhood friends of Taehyung littered the large table. As they saw you coming, they shouted hello’s a little too loudly.

“Hi guys,” you say, putting your hand on Hoseok’s shoulder as you approved. “You’ve come to collect your man?” Jungkook jokes. Everyone laughs but Hoseok only looks up at you with the biggest grin on his face, his arms now snug around your giddy daughter. Haneul finally saw you were there and squealed, making grabby hands for you. He shifted the little girl in his arms so that you could lean over and take over. You hoisted her up on your hip and she soon clung to you, starting to babble away. “Sorry to spoil the fun, boys,” you lilted with a smile on your face.

“I’m more than happy to be collected,” Hoseok said to the group even though his eyes were on you. The guys made some whooping and ‘ooooh’ sounds. With that, Hoseok said his goodbyes and ushered the three of you out of the dining room. The two of you had planned to take Haneul alpine sliding. This was the only time during the trip that the three of you would be able to spend time alone together because that night was the rehearsal dinner, the next day was the wedding and then the three of you would be going back home to Seoul. One afternoon of a mini-vacation was something the two of you desperately wanted.

Hoseok took Haneul from you again as you went to go get tickets for the alpine slide.

Once you got them, Hoseok decided that he’d take Haneul in his lap and you’d ride down first so you could get a video of them coming down the mountain. You hadn’t been on one of these in so long that when you finally pressed the lever forwards...you yelled into the warm summer mountain air as you made your fast descent.

Hoseok and Haneul waited so they knew you’d be down and ready to film. You saw them come around the bend and hit record, hearing your daughters squeals of delight. You got a good clip but insisted that all of you go down again so you could get another shot. Hoseok rolled his eyes but the three of you were thrilled to go up in the chair lift to ride down the mountain again. You managed to get that clip and took a photo of your two love bugs, cute filter and all before posting it to your social media story.

You continued to go up and down to ride the slide until Haneul got hungry. There was a shop at the base of the mountain that had food, snacks, and to-go picnic materials where the three of you picked out a small assortment of sandwiches, cheese, meats, sides, smoked salmon, and of course, some candy that Haneul insisted on.

Hoseok laid out a nylon blanket and the three of you laid out on it, eating sandwiches and relaxing. With Haneul between the two of you, Hoseok and you finally got the quiet family time you were hoping for. Both of you were fine just relaxing in the sunshine with your little two year old hurricane. However, the hurricane finally fell asleep, lying on her stomach in the middle of the blanket. While both of you loved her very much, you did treasure the moments you had to yourself. Leaning over your sleeping daughter, Hoseok pecked you on the lips, leaning back to smile at you. Your daughter still had her fingers wrapped around yours in a death grip...despite the fact that she was out like a light. She was a heavy sleeper now that she was a little older. When she was awake, though, all bets were off.

The look on your husband’s face turned from bright and smiling to thoughtful, his fingers gripping the back of your neck, rubbing slightly. By most accounts, your husband was a jovial, energetic and happy man. But he had his serious moments, his thoughtful moments. Sometimes you’d look at him and see a different person, even his appearance seemed to change. Strange enough, the more serious he looked the more forehead you seemed to see. It was a silly observation, but you often found yourself making these strange comparisons. Hey, you spent a lot of time staring at Hoseok’s face. The idea really wasn’t that out there.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” you asked your husband quietly, moving your hand to thumb at his chin, disturbing his deep thought. He looked at you with those piercing eyes, his lips pressed together in thought and hand still on the back of your neck. His eyes and hair glinted in the beautiful, sunny, breezy mountain air. In that moment, you didn’t think you could love him more. The man who gave every part of himself to Haneul and you, the man who worked tirelessly to improve himself as a person and as dancer, and the man who woke up early and never spared a moment so he could achieve it all. It was moments like this, still and unmoving, were you could could truly feel the heights of your happiness.

“Happy to be here with you,” he said softly, “With the both of you.” He gazed down between the two of you at Haneul. He let his hand from your neck drop in order to thread lightly through her short hair and against her cotton-clad back. Your eyes threatened to tear up at the sight. There was something about the way he held Haneul and doted on her endlessly that always pulled at your heartstrings. The two of you married fairly young compared to your friends and hadn’t planned on having Haneul but now....neither of you could bear to think of a time that she wasn’t the center of your life.

Letting your free hand join his on Haneul’s back, you let out a deep sigh. Your fingers gingerly sat on top of is, his warm skin radiating up into your fingers. A moment later, you let your forehead lean against the shoulder of the arm he was using to prop himself up. “Love you so much,” you muffle into his shoulder. He was quick to press his cheek to the crown of your head, breathing in deeply. You missed him. You always had him but you missed these quiet moments with him. Your hand moved to press lightly into Haneul’s back. You wouldn’t change anything in the world but you weren’t going to lie and say parenthood was a walk in the park. It was damn hard, especially when you had a little hurricane like Haneul. She was the perfect mix between your boundless curiosity and her father’s hellionic energy.

You missed the quiet intimacy and being engulfed in the weekend’s celebration of love was a steadfast reminder of what it’s like being so in tune and focused on only one person other than yourself. Your husband dragged you out of your thoughts with, “I’ll ask the same question. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” You smiled weakly; you couldn’t keep anything from him. That’s one of the reasons the two of you were so good together. You were both horrible liars.

“I miss you,” you whispered into his shoulder. He chuckled a bit, but not too loudly.

“I’m right here,” he said with a bit of a scoff in his voice, “Not going anywhere.” You wanted to push him playfully but your tiny peanut of a daughter was sleeping peacefully and waking her was the last thing you wanted to do. Seeing her upset would nearly kill you, kill the both of you in fact. Your husband had such a weak heart for the little girl and despite being an organized disciplinarian, spoiled your daughter rotten.

“I miss you miss you,” you said, lightly biting at the shoulder your face was pressed into. You could feel the muscle in his shoulder tense under your mouth.

“Y/N…” he said, half in awe and the other half in warning.

“Yes?” you replied, looking up at him and pressing your lips into a firm kiss against the spot on his shirt where you had your teeth sinking in. You couldn’t help but smirk when you saw his heavy lidded eyes. He had the same thought in his brain, you knew him well enough to be able to tell. Despite the fact that your husband had a great poker face to the rest of the world, he wore his feelings on his face like a billboard sign with flashing neon lights around you. It was the same for you as well.

“This is a public place,” he said with that look in his eye, “There are children here, including our own.” You receded just a bit. It wasn’t as if you’d just kissed him a little too firmly. You were full-on biting your husband in public. While you didn’t respond to him, you kept your gaze on his, sighing heavily. You nodded your head slightly in recognition.

“I know,” he said, moving your face with his hand, his hand coiling around your jaw. He sighed too, breath puttering out as he did so. Pulling you in closer again, he planted a thoughtful kiss on your lips, managing to convey exactly what he was feeling into that pressure. His hand moved from your jaw to your neck where it had been before. The two of you loved your little family and you loved the life that you were leading. But you both were busy and sometimes, that chaos stopped the two of you from truly enjoying one another, the only focus being on the other person in front of you.

You were young parents for crying out loud. The lack of sleep also was something that came along with that. The two of you ended up taking an hour nap in the sunshine, only to be awoken by a stirring Haneul. Pushing and pulling at the both of you, she wanted attention and to go potty. The two of you decided to pack and head back to the hotel as it was already late in the afternoon and you had a rehearsal dinner that night.

Hoseok put Haneul on his shoulders for the walk back, holding her little hands in the air, taking turns to run and then walk slowly. You joined in, asking Haneul if she could beat mommy in a race. The three of you laughed all the way to the elevators. You wanted more than anything at that moment just to be able to go back to sleep, and cozy up to Hoseok and Haneul but you had the wedding rehearsal dinner to go to.

However, the moment you got back to the room, the three of you had to get ready for the dinner. Hoseok entertained Haneul while you applied makeup again and did your hair. All he had to do was slide in a little product, change his clothes and get Haneul ready, which was a simple outfit change. When you finally deemed yourself presentable, it was just about time to leave.

“Jimin just texted me,” Hoseok said, looking at his phone, “Let’s meet Chaeyoung and him in the lobby.” Chaeyoung was Jimin’s girlfriend of around two years. They’d been together for about that amount of time, but known one another even longer. You thought she was the cutest thing but she could be really scary when angry. The three of you made your way to the lobby and when Jimin and Chaeyoung caught sight of you, they made a beeline towards you, meeting centrally in the lobby. Chaeyoung hugged you and asked about the rest of your day. You told her about the alpine slide and said, “How fun!!! Jimin and I spent the afternoon at the spa!”

“That sounds lovely,” you said, with a sigh, “Can’t remember the last time I went to a real spa. Probably when I was pregnant with Haneul.” Chaeyoung’s eyes widened. “You should go if you can. The one here is great,” she said cheerfully. It did sound really nice. You knew that Hoseok loved going to the spa and before Haneul, often went for special occasions together. You had even planned to go for your anniversary this year but Haneul ended up with a cold and the two of you stayed in with her and had your favorite Thai takeout. The two of you ended up being too tired to even have sex once Haneul was finally down for the count.

The struggles of young parenthood did not evade you but it was nice to see that sometimes, you weren’t always alone in it. You were lucky that you could consider yourself part of a village. You watched as Jimin made grabby hands towards Haneul. Hoseok lifted her off his shoulders and handed the squealing child to her surrogate uncle Jimin. Jimin--along with Taehyung--always offered themselves as free babysitters to Hoseok and you. Even to Jin and his wife. Hoisting the little girl onto his hip, he looked fondly at her and you could see Chaeyoung’s eyes light up as she watched him. You’d known the two of them for the entirety of their relationship and saw how much they cared for one another. Chaeyoung floated over to where Jimin was, pressing herself into his side to say hello to your daughter.

“You know I’m always willing to babysit this little one whenever you need,” Jimin said, bouncing her around, “Just letting you know the offer always stands.” You can’t help but smile. You were lucky to be part of such a close group of friends. You reach to pat him on the shoulder that Chaeyoung is currently pressed up against. “Thank you, Jimin,” you said, “The offer is definitely not forgotten. Haha!” You immediately lock eyes with your husband. The two of you often shared the same brain about things and you knew he could read yours at this moment. The two of you had dabbled in the idea of taking a vacation in the new few months. Could be a good opportunity to get some time to yourselves and of course, to make Jimin happy.

The five of you decided to head off to the restaurant where the rehearsal dinner was going to be. Chaeyoung and yourself took Haneul to the side while Jimin and Hoseok made their way over to the bridal and groomsmen section. You’d join up again later after all the ceremonial things and have dinner together. After sitting down, Hyunjae joined you, toting her son on her lap. He was only a few months older than Haneul and already the spitting image of his father, personality and looks-wise. He was talkative, loud, and was already arguing with his mom You couldn’t help but smile as Haneul and the little boy reached over your arms for each other, wanting to play.

The family and wedding party made their toasts fairly quickly. Hoseok got up to say a few words, saying how happy he was that one of his best friends found happiness in such a lovely person as Eunha. When he mentioned you, you couldn’t help but feel the heat in your face. Several years later and the man standing could still make you feel like a shy high school girl with a crush. He finished and the rest of the night went off without a hitch. Haneul and Jin’s son had both fallen asleep in the corner with a few bright picture books. You couldn’t bear to part the two sleeping angels but it was time to go to bed to get ready for the wedding tomorrow.

Hoseok made his way over to you as you were picking up a sleeping Haneul. “I’ll be right back honey,” he said, cupping his hand around your shoulder with care, “I just want to catch Jimin before he goes.” With that, he ran off, catching his friend before he left the restaurant. He looked serious for a moment but when you saw Jimin respond joyfully to whatever your husband asked, you couldn’t help but admire the smile that spread across your husband’s face. It was this big thing that lit up his entire being and it was one of your favorite things about Hoseok.

You were about to put Haneul over your shoulder when Hoseok walked briskly over to you and took her from you. “Let’s go,” he said, grabbing your hand in the process. He lead you two to the elevators, Haneul in tow, and while the elevator went up, he leaned his head on your shoulder, a smile on his face.

“What’s that smile for?” you asked him. He only smiled wider and told you he would explain when they two of you made it back to the room. Soon enough, you were opening the door and Hoseok was quick but careful to change Haneul and put her in her travel crib. Once she was settled, Hoseok let out a deep sigh and turned around to face you as you sat on the large king bed and had started to kick off your shoes.

“I talked to Jimin…” he started, “He said he’d be more than happy to watch Haneul for a week.” You looked at your husband as if he’d grown three heads. “What are you talking about?” you ask, your eyes as big as saucers and your eyebrows making their way towards one another.

“I asked Jimin if he--and Chaeyoung--wouldn’t mind watching Haneul for a few days to a week,” he said, basically repeating himself. The look on his face was soft and loving and he looked so pretty in the light of the bedside table lamp. “We didn’t even have a proper anniversary this year and being here this weekend...made me realize how much I miss spending time with you,” he said, making his way over to you.

“Haneul got sick. It wasn’t anyone’s faul--” you had started to say but were quickly cut off by your husband pecking you on the lips. The look on his face displayed a fondness but also managed to stop you from saying anything further. He sank down to his knees fitting himself between them, his chest pressed into the side of the high hotel bed. His arms slinked around your waist, his hands pressing themselves into your lower back, thumbs on your hips. You sighed, sinking into the feeling of his touch.

“These two years have been the best of my life and there is absolutely nothing I would trade them for,” he confessed, his eyes soft and his lips curled into the small smile, “Having Haneul is a blessing and I’m sorry she’s taking after me.” He laughed at himself. “But...it’s been a while since it’s just been us, right?” You nod slowly as he rubs circles into the squish of your seated hips.

“When are you thinking?” you finally manage to ask. He moved his hands to grab yours, interlacing his fingers and leaning his upper arms on your thighs. “Hmmm….three days from now?” he said with a smirk.

“What about work?” you asked incredibly, squeezing his fingers between yours. While you didn’t have a work schedule and could design from anywhere, you’re husband was a professional dancer, teacher, and an apprentice to his company’s artistic director. Surely, he had a busy schedule when they got back home.

He leaned down a little to kiss your hands. “I’m on hiatus, remember?” he asked, kissing another knuckle, “No shows for another two months and my apprenticeship doesn’t start up for two more weeks.”

He continues on, “Come on, let’s just go,” he pleaded. “We haven’t done anything this spontaneous in two years. Besides, we have a free babysitter.” You remembered Jimin’s offer earlier that night and the lightbulb finally turned on. “Oh! Were you inspired by Jimin’s offer?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said, “The moment those words left his mouth, I immediately texted the artistic director and they said it was fine because I haven’t taken a vacation from work in two years. I was owed one, anyway.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “But where should we go?” you asked, not being able to help the excitement bubbling up.

“I’m thinking...the beach,” he said and you nodded eagerly. That sounded amazing to you. Just Hoseok and you on the beach. Yeah, kind of like a sequel to your honeymoon, you thought. Though, the very idea was enough to send all the blood in your body to your face. It was quickly obvious to Hoseok that you were thinking of something.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, a knowing look on his face.

“Our honeymoon,” you said, not being able to help but smile. He used your thighs to pull himself up. “Oh, I see,” he said, his smile widening as he climbed on top of you, gentle pushing you to lay on the bed. He hovered over you and gave you a few quick, coy kisses before moving over to you side. He leaned on his elbow.

“I’m looking forward to some mommy and daddy time,” he said rubbing his fingers up and down your arms. It was your turn to peck him on the lips. He made a goofy face just then, one that made you laugh. You loved this thoughtful, handsome, goofy, loving, sexy man more than anything. “Me too,” you said, and a moment later, “I don’t want to move.” He leaned in again to kiss away your pout. Both of you could feel your eyes growing heavy and Hoseok made work of pulling both of you under the covers and stripping you both to your underwear.

As soon as you guys were snug, you heard Haneul start to fuss from her crib. Both of you smiling and sighing at the same time, Hoseok beats you to the punch. “I’ve got her,” he said, kissing your forehead before raising himself out of bed to comfort your little girl.

The very thought of him holding her in his arms to calm her down was enough to reassure you and send you into dreamland.

The morning had run smoothly. Haneul was in a good mood and the three of you grabbed a quick breakfast before Hoseok had to run to Taehyung’s suite to get ready for the ceremony. You had met Hyunjae, Chaeyoung, Yoongi’s girlfriend Sookja in the lobby to go for a walk in the garden before all of you had to go to the ceremony. None of you were in the bridal party so you decided to hang out together to pass the time.

You and Chaeyoung were busy doing the arm swing thing to Haneul as she squealed, Hyunjae and Sookja doing the same to the little boy. Both the little boy and Haneul were too young to be in the wedding and Eunha’s cousins had kids just the right age for the job. So, you didn’t have to run about making sure Haneul was ready but you knew that in the next few years, Haneul would be very busy with friends’ weddings.

You had become close to Chaeyoung and Hyunjae and were forming a friendship quickly with Sookja. You had friends outside of the group too but Hoseok’s group of guy friends had become part of your family and their current significant others by extension. Haneul reached up for Chaeyoung who scooped her up instantly.

“Hoseok and you look so happy,” she said to you, “I can’t believe you’d had this little one for two years already. Isn’t that right, Haneulie? You’re two!!!” You softened at your friend. You couldn’t believe it either. Blessed for two years with the two greatest gifts you could ever ask for.

“I can’t believe it either, sometimes,” you said, “Are you excited to play babysitter?” You couldn’t help but chuckle as Chaeyoung rolls her eyes, but with a smile.

“Jimin didn’t even ask me,” she said with a smile, “But...it’s fine. He loves Haneul and so do I.” She gave the little girl a kiss on the side of her head. “You must be excited, though. You haven’t taken a vacation since she was born. You deserve it!” Chaeyoung hands Haneul back to you and you soften, a tear prickling at your eyes. It would be the longest you’d been without her and that scared you a bit, despite how excited you were to spend time alone with Hoseok.

“Thanks, Chaeyoung,” you said, “How are things with Jimin and you?” They’d been together for a long time but you didn’t get to hang out with Chaeyoung as often as you wanted. You wanted to know what was going on in her life.

“We’re doing really good,” she said a bit giddily, “We are discussing moving in together.”

“That’s so exciting, yay!!!” you said, repositioning Haneul on your hip. You were happy they were taking a step forward. They weren’t jumping into anything fast, they had been together for almost two years. However, then there was Sookja, Yoongi’s girlfriend, who he’d only been dating for around a year and Hoseok was convinced that he was going to pop the question any day now with how in love he was. You just hoped Chaeyoung had never been privy to those conversations.

Soon enough, it was time for you to make your way to the ceremony, which was being held outside. The six of you found your seats and watched as Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi, Jin, Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon and two other groomsmen made their way up the aisle. They all looked handsome but of course you were biased and couldn’t take your eyes off Hoseok. He’d parted his hair slightly to the side like he sometimes did and he looked so handsome.

“Baby, look! It’s daddy!” you said to Haneul, lifting her up in your lap so she could see as Hoseok took his place in the line of groomsmen between Jimin and Jin. Haneul waved happily and Hoseok waved back at you both, sending a small wink back. You couldn’t help but wave too.It reminded you of Hoseok on your big day, though he had opted for a linen suit since the two of you got married on a beach.

It wasn’t long before the bridesmaids started coming out too and lining up. When everyone heard a song start, they knew it was time to stand up. Eunha made her way down the aisle and there was not a sound to be heard except an emotional noise coming out of Taehyung. He put his hand over his mouth to stifle a sob. God, he was in love with her and it made you well up to. You could see Hoseok looking on with fondness too, happy that his friend was happy too.

It wasn’t until their vows, though, that you locked eyes with your husband. A quiet remember between you two about your own and what those words meant and still mean to you. The words that Taehyung and Eunha were speaking were beautiful but there was a moment when you were so lost in Hoseok’s eyes that you couldn’t hear them anymore. His eyes were soft in your direction and as you held Haneul in your arms tightly, you couldn’t help but mouth the words “I love you,” in your husband’s direction. He smiles at you, not even need to mouth it back. His smile is big and his eyes are glassy and even though you are emotional for your friends, you can’t help but get caught up in the love of your life.

Taehyung and Eunha are pronounced husband and wife and everyone whoops and hollers when he dips his new wife into a kiss.. Soon after, the party split into twos to walk towards the reception area. Hoseok paired off with Taehyung’s younger sister as the party took the lead, heading off to take photos before the reception officially started.

But before Hoseok could make his way out of your eyesight, he blew a kiss your way.

The atmosphere was ethereal; twinkle lights and candles littering the entire reception area, highlighting the greenery and dark wooden furniture transforming the nice reception hall into a nature fantasy world.

You softly sighed, shaking your head. Wish I would have thought of that, you thought to yourself. Not that your barefoot beach wedding wasn’t everything you wanted. It’s just that there was definitely no place for thousands of twinkle lights on a white sandy beach.

The night was dwindling down, most of the older adults having long left by this point. All was left was the bride and groom dancing their last dance, buzzed and holding each other as if they parted a bomb would go off.

You couldn’t help but smile.

It had been a long time coming for your friends Taehyung and Eunha; an on-and-off relationship over the span of a handful of years, filled with hectic work schedules and a once broken engagement. But here they were… even though they often talked about how happy they would be forever by one another’s side, even if there wasn’t a piece of paper to prove it.

Taehyung lifted his chin from his bride’s shoulder to look at her. The look of love so palpable, you could feel yourself well up and not for the first time that night. Eunha looked like a fairy princess in her dress and Taehyung looked as handsome as he always did. Why did it feel like so long ago but at the same time only yesterday that your husband and you were in the same position as they were?

Your choice in wedding dances had been in stark comparison.

Your husband loved to dance. He should love it, as it was his profession. He had insisted on an elaborate first dance that you two had prepared for months leading up to the big day. You were confident in your dance skills for the average person but you often felt inadequate when trying out big moves with your professional dancer fiancé.

Your husband was a kind man, the kindest, really. But he was also a really strict teacher and you’d occasionally get frustrated and it would turn into harmless squabbles that would lead to you storming off and him following you. Hoseok hated seeing you upset more than anything and couldn’t let anything simmer between the two of you for very long. Within ten minutes of you storming off, he’d be in your trail with heart-filled apologies, kisses over the bridges of your knuckles, and warm breath on your earlobes.

While he was often the first one to cave, you’d forgive him instantly and cling to him. He was the more vocal of the two of you and had more of a flair for the dramatics. You enabled it, though. He’d try to go easier on you after a tiff but you’d never want your Hobi to be anyone other than himself. You’d do your best to follow his instructions but would get caught up in watching him try to teach you; how serious his face would get when walking you through steps, the way his hands would sit on his hips while watching you, the smile he’d sport when you aced a pose. You weres stupid in love with him. You’d take the second lecture for not paying attention with a smile and a quick “sorry” that didn’t really mean sorry but actually meant “sorry I couldn’t stop staring.”

In the end, the dance was a success and it made all your friends and family laugh. Your first dance was to the cheesy “As Long As You Love Me” by the Backstreet Boys. Your new husband had twirled you around, a little too drunk on champagne and his hair salty and fluffing in the ocean breeze. His smile was so big that you though his jaw might pop off and you felt your hair falling apart. It wouldn’t be long before the two of you tumbled from the dance floor and into the sand.

But it was while you we sitting at a round dining table alone that you saw in full frame how much your world had shifted since that champagne and 90’s boy band-infused day.

You looked to the right of the happy couple, several feet away and farther back. Your heart felt heavy and tight as it lifted into your throat. Dancing slowly with soft eyes was the man in question.

But he wasn’t dancing by himself.

In his arms was possibly the one person you loved more than your husband and partner in life. Your two year old daughter. He held her close in his arms, dancing slowly as to not wake her. It was way past her bedtime but she refused to go to sleep when Hoseok took her upstairs to go to bed. So, he danced with her in order to wear her out, still clad in her pyjamas.

She’d fallen asleep about twenty minutes ago and your husband was more than happy to keep swaying her around his corner of the dance floor. Haneul’s cheek was squished into the crook of Hoseok’s arm and chest, her mouth slack and crooked. He’d occasionally lilt his gaze over to her head, checking for any signs of stirring but she was out cold. Exhausted from dancing to some loud, typical wedding dance songs with her dad.

Feeling your heart melt all the way to your stomach, you pushed yourself up from the cushioned dining chair, watching your friends continue to dance in their own little bubble. Making your way over to the only two people in the world you’d murder for, you made eye contact with Hoseok. No longer on groomsman duty, he’d abandoned his jacket, his bowtie a little loose too. When Taehyung had decided against cumberbuns, though, Hoseok had been a little upset.

“Sorry, hyung. Eunha’s call,” Taehyung had said mournfully. He totally wanted them too.

Haneul’s hair was a mess but it had been the way since the beginning of the wedding. Your daughter was too much of a whirlwind to ever be able to keep her hair tangleless. You smiled down at her before looking back at your husband. Hair ruffled, his eyes a little droopy and his hands securely wrapped around your sleeping daughter. Soft clicking noises came from her as she breathed, a little bit of drool staining the now-wrinkled oxford shirt.

You slowly placed your hand over his hand that held Haneul’s back, your other one coming to press into the juncture of Hoseok’s neck and shoulder. Your forefinger caught on the warm skin there. After smiling at you, he leaned in, over Haneul’s head, and kissed you sweetly on the lips.

“She’s out like a light,” he says, a breath above a whisper.

“Thanks for tiring her out,” you say, wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck, the tip of your thumb settling behind his ear. You loved holding his face like this, fingers dragging at the baby hairs on the back of his head. You leaned in and gave him another kiss, capturing his bottom lip between yours. Maybe it was the romantic atmosphere of the wedding, maybe it was just because you were ridiculously and stupidly in love with the man in front of you.

Two years ago, the two of you had only been married for a year a half. Not much had changed since then, except for the fact you had a tiny human to take care of and you were still in a perpetual state of no sleep. The two of you also didn’t have a lot of time to yourselves without Haneul, intimacy definitely lacking in comparison to before she was born. But that didn’t mean you didn’t find time for each other. Whether it was pawning Haneul off on her favorite auntie, Hoseok’s sister Jiwoo or any of your friends and surrogate uncles--Taehyung and Jimin especially--you looked forward to spending time alone.

The stress and time it took to raise a small child, not to mention your husband’s promotion to principal of the prestigious dance company he was a part of, it definitely took its toll. Hoseok was also apprenticing to the current Artistic Director when he wasn’t in endless rehearsals and workshops. It something he had been interested in ever since joining the company and in his words, “it would eventually give me more time to spend time with my two favorite girls.”

You continued your career as a graphic designer after your daughter’s birth even though you left your job officially, glad to have a career where you were basically able to work anywhere. It was a decision that you had made for yourself but of course you included Hoseok in the discussion. He questioned if it was what you wanted to do, but only to make sure you were happy with your decision. Hoseok knew you well enough to know that you weren’t bogged down by other’s opinions, that you were an independent woman, but he still cared enough to ask. That was one of the many things you loved about him and you loved him so much that you wanted his opinion and his input.

“Let’s go,” you say softly, tugging a bit at the bottom of his hair, fingers threatening to weave completely into the strands. He smiled that smile at you, the one that flushes your face pink every time, before he moved Haneul to one side, grabbing your hand with his now free one. You then let him drag you across the dance floor. You waved to Taehyung and Eun-ha, though they had no idea what was going outside of their little bliss bubble. You also said a quick goodbye to a few friends that are still there before exiting.

When the two of you finally were far away from the reception hall and far into the halls of the hotel, you feel like you can breathe a bit more because it’s just the three of you. While waiting for the elevator, you leaned your head on Hoseok’s shoulder with a small yawn.

“Do I have two sleepy girls on my hands now?” he asked. You could hear the smile in his voice. You moved your head to press a kiss his shoulder, feeling the warmth radiating through his shirt. While you didn’t have the night to yourself with Hoseok, you were excited that in two days you would. The two of you had planned to take a short holiday in a few days and Jimin--much to the mock chagrin of his girlfriend--had volunteered to babysit starting a few days time.

“Better sleepy now than in a few days,” you said, looking up at him from where your face is still pressed into his shoulder. You saw the corner of his mouth rise because he knew exactly what you were implying. The two of you were itching for this holiday and besides, Haneul would have so much more fun with Uncle Jimin than her boring, sleepy, lovesick parents.

On the way up to the room, you only stopped holding your husband’s hand to unlock the hotel room. After getting both of you inside and closing the door as quietly as possible, you watched Hoseok carefully put Haneul into her crib. She was already in her PJ’s from the earlier attempt to put her to bed and after brushing a few strands of hair from her little face, he slowly backed away before turning around towards you. You had started to take off your jewelry, wiggling an earring out of your lobe, not being able to take your soft gaze away from him.

Hoseok was also quick to finish removing his bowtie and untuck his shirt, walking towards you in the process. You had started to take pins out of your hair when he reached his mouth towards yours, placing three plush kisses against your lips. You looked at him, smile on his face, and a similar but perhaps more doofy one on yours (you were sure). You couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest woman in the world. You had one of the funniest people you knew as a life partner but he also knew how and when to act like the adult he was. He had a super serious and passionate side to him. It was another of the many things you loved about him, often feeling a little silly yourself in comparison.

He wrapped his hands around your head in order to help you pull out bobby pins, hair falling out of place as he does. You stop your work and in turn start to unbutton his wrinkled oxford shirt. He slid out the last pin in your hair as you fidgeted with the last button. The quickness was a product of mutual grooming and efficiency you two had mastered as parents to a child going through the gruesome twosome. Moving in to hug him, your hands slid into his oxford shirt and around his undershirt clad torso. You loved pressing your face into his chest, hearing his even heartbeat. As loud and goofy he could be, he’d always been your steady beating heart. It was a great contrast to your quiet, sensitive, and sometimes your erratic nature. The elegance to your fumbling. The water to your fire.

In turn, he wrapped his arms around you, fingertips pressing into your skin. “What a wedding, huh?” he asks into your hair. You hummed in response to the warm breath mingling with your messy locks.

“They make such a beautiful couple,” you said, the side of your face pressed into the soft cotton on his chest, must like your daughter had done earlier while she was sleeping. “He really loves her. Never thought Taehyung wouldn’t be the last one of you to get married.”

“I think Jin and Jungkook had money on that very statement,” he said and you could feel his chest breach in a small chuckle. “They both owe Yoongi a lot of money, apparently.” Genius man, that’s for sure, you thought to yourself.

You couldn’t help but smile as well. Taehyung had always seemed like a free spirit type but you knew better. From the time you spent getting to know him over the years of knowing and dating Hoseok, you learned that the artistic man was very family-oriented and caring. Him settling down to start one of his own wasn’t that far-fetched in your mind. Whether he would have actually legally married though was the only question that had been up in the air. In the end, spending the rest of his life emotionally (and legally) Eunha was what he wanted most.

“They’ll be making bets about Yoongi next,” you said, “If Jin’s wife doesn’t catch him first. Surprised he got away with it this time.” You moved your head to press your lips into the cotton of Hoseok’s undershirt before lifting yourself up his arms. His eyes were bleary as both of you had been up for the past several hours. You lifted your hand to push a hand through his messy hair, completely exposing his forehead, letting your hand drop back to the nape of his neck and his hair fall back into his face.

“You know what I want more than anything right now?” you said with a smirk as you pressed yourself a little closer to him. He smirked and lowered his lips close to your ear, feeling his hot breath again.

“Six solid hours of sleep,” he whispered as sexily as the the statement could allow.

You pulled him in for a kiss. “I love it when you talk dirty to me,” you said against his lips. The two of you looked at one another with a knowing look and as if one being, rushed to get out of your formal clothes and into your pyjamas. The two of you couldn’t help but laugh as you struggled to strip. After finishing, you made yourself busy and walked briskly to the two suitcases set up across the room. Grabbing both your set and his, you threw his at him teasingly. The character-covered pyjama pants were on and your bra was off but before you could put on the button up top that matched, you felt a pair of lips on your shoulder. The lips then dragged up to your neck before. A slight shiver ran up your spine as he attached his lips to a particular place behind your ear.  

“Save it for the day after tomorrow,” you say, your chest a little flush.

“You don’t make it easy,” he then says against your jaw. He detached himself in order to put his pyjamas on as well, an old t-shirt and a pair of flannel bottoms. “You should feel lucky I’m tired and am saving my energy for our holiday where lame parent cuddling will be banned.” He kissed your cheek after putting his head through the hole of his old t-shirt.

“But you love lame parent cuddling,” you said as you climbed into the plush king bed, holding out the covers for him to get in.

“Guilty,” he said, climbing in after you. You didn’t even bother to take your makeup off and neither of you bothered to brush your teeth. Both of you too tired to care. After covering you both up with the puffy, silky hotel duvet, you could feel your head getting hazy. Hoseok pulled you in close to him, his hair touching the nape of your neck. Just as you were putting your hands over his, you instinctually lifted your head and shoulders up to look over at Haneul, your breath caught in your throat. Hoseok slowly pulled you back down to him, nuzzling you again, his voice even sleepier than before.

“She’s fine,” he said, the hand that snaked around your middle reaching for one of your hands,  “Go to sleep, honey.” He squeezed your hand and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You knew that you had nothing to worry about, not when you had this man beside you always. His finger intertwined with yours were warm and so was the comforting breath of his against the back of your neck.

Snuggling back into him, it wasn’t more than five minutes of playing with Hoseok’s fingers before you were out like a light.

You personally wanted to thank Taehyung’s wedding DJ for keeping the jams pumping and wearing your daughter out because the two of you ended up getting those six hours of sleep.

#hyunglinenetwork #bts fanfic #hoseok fluff #hoseok fic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #hoseok x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #hoseok angst #bts smut #hoseok smut #palepinksuga #palepinksuga: writings #bts #bangtan

[bobowhooo]

Potent Savages

Genre : Drama/ Angst/ Smut/ Trigger Warningsss/ Exo, oc, and blackpink au

Summary ; Not everyone is cut out for this kind of fast-paced lifestyle, but for these young, rich savages, it’s second nature.

Chapter 15 : Fire to the rain.

     Baby, can you see through the tears?

“Baekhyun, come on, let’s go home, baby.” I said while letting tears stroll down my cheeks. I tugged on his arm desperately as I yelled over the noise. The music in the club continued to play loudly as people danced around with no knowledge of the two hearts that have been shattered just now behind this DJ booth. Baekhyun continued to stand there in complete shock after getting that phone call. I heard everything, everything, and I can’t hold back the tears overwhelming me. But baekhyun, he’s just...frozen.

“Baekhyun, please.” I pleaded with him more.

Chanyeol came out of nowhere rushing to the DJ booth. I looked at him in despair hoping for him to save me, and help me save baekhyun. He must have been watching us from afar since the moment we left from the dance floor to where we are now. He probably anticipated that phone call as much as baekhyun did. I’m sure everyone was. Chanyeol picked baekhyun up and threw one of his arms over his shoulders. “I’ll take him home. Just...just tell everyone else what’s going on.” My grip on baekhyun was still strong as I stopped him from being jerked away from my hand. “B-but, you-”

“I don’t need to know exactly what it is. Just let me take baekhyun home. That’s what I want to focus on right now.” Chanyeol looked at me with shaky eyes. I know exactly what’s going on in his head right now. He’s thinking about that phone call. He’s thinking about suho. I just know his heart is racing as fast mine. I nodded and let go completely, not wanting to hold him back anymore. When the boys left me there everything seemed to go in slow motion. My head spun and I got worried about my own life. If suho can die, what’s stopping death from catching up with me? I was breathing harder and harder as my feet led me to the others. 

No, I have to calm down. There’s still hope. I have to stay strong. Besides, I'm sure everyone thought I was dead at one point. W-we don’t even know the whole story yet. Maybe he just got kidnapped, or maybe he’s at the hospital getting taken care of right now. Yeah, there’s still hope. I shouldn’t think bad things, it’ll only make everything much worse. I wiped my tears after slowing down my thoughts and my racing heart. I slid into the VIP room that everyone was lounging in and I grabbed a drink out jisoo’s hand. Everyone whipped their heads my way and watched at the frantic way I drunk down the poison without any words. I sat the glass back into the hand of the girl and sighed, my eyes traveled from one person to another as my bottom lip locked in between my teeth. 

“What’s wrong? Where’s baekhyun?” Sehun asked.

“And chanyeol?” Jennie added quickly.

I cleared my throat and grabbed the whole bottle of the alcohol they had chosen to sip on tonight. 

No one ever said being the bearer of bad news was easy. 

About an hour after explaining exactly what I heard from the phone call and where chanyeol had taken baekhyun we all decided to shut down party time and went straight for the exo mansion with distressing and distraught feelings. I drove my customized range rover with a focused mind. My girls stayed quiet since we left the club and I couldn’t help but feel like it was my fault. It may be stupid to think that way though. “H-hey, I'm sure he’s okay. It’s suho we’re talking about after all.” I said in hopes of bringing up their moods. Lisa looked in the rearview mirror from the backseat at me with sad eyes. “That’s what I used to say about you. But while I was saying that you were being dressed up, drugged, and raped.” She spoke with a scared tone in her voice that made my heart clench. 

“That won’t happen to suho, he’s better than me, he wouldn’t even let himself be captured.” I said with a small smile remembering how he was always one step ahead of everyone else. Not even that, more like three steps ahead. “Stop trying to console us already. You think minseok, being the way he is, wouldn’t make absolutely sure his best friend is dead before telling everyone? He’s not the type to do that.” Rose said with little to no emotion, her feet pressing into the passenger seat with her hands cradling her knees. I grunted a small “fuck” under my breath while I gripped harder on the steering wheel. I hadn’t thought of that, I But to be honest I wasn’t thinking realistically in the first place. I didn’t want to. I still don’t. I looked over to jisoo as she sat in the backseat shaking with wide teary eyes while jennie held her tightly, her eyes being the opposite of jisoo’s. Of course, she’s probably taking this worse than anyone in this car. For the first time, jisoo was falling in love, it was something so rare, something I thought I would never see. For that to be taken away from her like this makes me fill up with rage towards that fucking bitch. She’s such a pussy. I swear to god I’ll make her regret the day she ever decided to fuck with us. 

We got closer to the mansion and I squinted my eyes to get a better look at what’s ahead of me. A little bit ahead of us I could see the limo the boys rode here in, wasn’t parked properly. All the doors were open and I saw Kai standing next to one of them with an anxious look on his face. I sped up and pulled fully into the driveway. My heart started to beat rapidly like before as I caught a glimpse of baekhyun on his knees in front of the limo and behind the Bugatti, chanyeol was driving. I parked the car in a rush and tried to get out before my seat belt pulled me back into my seat. Rose reached over to unbuckle me with a shaky hand and I pushed my door opened in a rough manner. I ran over to baekhyun pushing the boys standing around him out of my way, My hands grabbed onto him before he smacked them away and looked into my eyes with teary red ones. 

“Don’t touch me!” Baekhyun yelled at me, the car lights making him look beautifully sad.

“Baekhyun-” I uttered before being cut off.

“Why are you even here!? Just leave! Go!” He yelled in my face making me feel small. As if I meant nothing to him in his moment of need. A fire sparked in my stomach as I stared at his crazed eyes. I bit my lip in anger and swung my hand towards his face. He flinched before I stopped my hand from doing something stupid and pulled his head towards me. His forehead pushed up against mine and his eyes closed. 

“Listen to me, you little shit, I love you with everything in me, and unless you kill me dead, I'm not going anywhere.”

More tears streamed down his closed eyes before his mouth opened slightly to let out small sounds. Before I knew it the rest of his body crashed into me, putting all of himself in my arms. My neck became wet after he dug his face in it and I wrapped my arms tightly around his torso. I didn’t realize how cold this night was until baekhyun’s warmth surrounded me. 

“Why did he have to go. Why did he leave us.” He said while sobbing into me. I felt him losing strength to stand up as he slid lower. I went down with him, our knees kissing the ground at the same time. 

I’ll stay here, in this exact position, all night if I have to, because there's nowhere I would rather be. Not even a little bit. 

I groaned myself awake and curled up in the covers more. My hand reached up out of the comforter to rub my sleepy eyes and I cracked one open while rubbing the other. The room was but dark but lit up by moonlight that shined unapologetically throughout the room. I wonder where baekhyun went. my body twisted in the empty bed as I thought about the way baekhyun cried himself to sleep in my tight embrace when we finally got off the ground and into our bed. I turned around to look at the bathroom hoping to see the light. Maybe baekhyun is in there. I found nothing though, which made me even more curious until I caught a glimpse of our big walk-in closet light shining. I sighed and forced myself out of the cozy bed and made my way towards the closet with a tinge of worry.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell Chris to get the jet ready right after we get off the phone.” I heard baekhyun’s voice whisper as my hand froze over the handle of the door. “Yes, I know, I’ll bring help. I won’t come alone.”

I bit my lip fighting back the urge to barge in. I know he’ll end the call if I do. And I would rather him finish up first. ”No, hell no. There’s no way I'm bringing aya with me, hyung. I’ll bring some rookies and maybe Chen. Chanyeol stays because I need him to look after aya.” I sucked in breath after hearing him say those words. What is he an idiot? Why would he make the same mistake as suho?

“Hyung, calm down, I'm not making the same mistake as suho. I'm only acting on what I think is right. Bringing more people into this will only make things worse.” I exhaled in anger. There’s no way I'm letting him do this. I won’t let him put his life on the line like this. Not like this. He’s not leaving without me. 

“I know si yeon like the back of my hand. I can get the job done better than anyone can. This isn’t something I'm worried about. I know that’s what suho said but it’s not the same. It just isn’t. I don’t care what it takes, I’ll go there and tell her I love her, I’ll even fuck her if I have to, all I know is she will die a painful death for what she did and I'm going to be the one to make sure of that.” I pushed open the door and stared at him with anger in my eyes. He turned around to stare back, his eyes filled with the same emotion, only it was not towards me. “Hyung, let me call you back when I'm on the jet.” My eyes traveled to a suitcase he had laid out in front of him filled with guns and ammo and only one pair of underwear.

We stared at each other before I folded my arms and looked towards his suitcase again. “You’re leaving?” I asked in a calm manner.

“How much of that did you hear?” He spoke with a low raspy voice. He sounds sleepy. his body turning more towards me as he spoke those words.

“Are you leaving or what.”

“I’m leaving.” He said now breaking our eye contact.

I bit my lip and looked away too. I'm trying my best not to blow up at him for what I just heard a minute ago. My eyes flew to his face with no resistance. “Without me?” The question came out before I could stop it. He looked into my eyes his body facing me and he opened his mouth before closing it again.

“Yes.” He said, his voice going softer than it was before.

My eyes burned as I heard him say the things I didn’t want to hear out loud. I took a few steps forward slowly as I tried to fight back any kind of tears. Without a second thought my hand swung on its own, but this time I didn’t stop it. The loud sound of my hand making contact with his left cheek filled the closet before he placed his hand over it. “I won’t let you.” I said with my hand stinging. He got up abruptly and looked at me with a cold, hard, expression. His eyes telling me to just leave. But there was no way I was going to. My heart felt heavy as fighting the tears became harder to do. I’m just so scared of losing him. I can’t let this happen.

“This is not up for discussion!” He yelled at me.

“No, baekhyun, I won’t let you leave without me.” He turned his back, ignoring me and looking through his clothes with no emotion. “Baekhyun, look at me!” I said pulling his arm. “Please don’t go!”

“I don’t want to! Do you think I'm going to have fun going to avenge suho, who was like a father figure to me!? Do you think I want to go find a distressed minseok alone in some random hotel room!? I don't! But I have to, it’s my responsibility. I won’t put your life at risk for this. You staying here is the only way I can guarantee your safety. I can’t afford to lose you again! now that suho is....” 

“Don’t you get it!? I can’t afford to lose you either! If you die and I know I didn’t do anything to stop it I will never forgive myself. At least let’s do this together. If we die, we die together. If we survive, we live on together. Baekhyun, let me be there for you.” I placed my hands on his cheeks, one feeling hotter than the other.

His eyes glistened with tears but they refuse to fall, unlike the ones relentlessly streaming down my face. He slowly moved my hands away from his face and walked forwards making me take steps back. My foot landed outside of the closet and he sniffled. “Go back to bed. Go back to sleep.” The man closed the door in my face before I could say anything back, making me want to scream at him, instead, I placed my forehead on the door and my hands did the same. I closed my eyes as more tears came down my cheeks. Thoughts of baekhyun not coming back ran through my head, driving me mad.

After what I think was an hour of sitting with my knees to my chest at the closet door, the sky started to wake up and I became calmer than I was before. I could hear baekhyun make the call for his jet and some backup. Not long after my back felt the door open and I moved to stand up. Baekhyun’s eyes didn’t make contact with mines when he walked out with his suitcase fully packed and a determined look. His shirt was now covered by a hoodie he pulled over it and he wore a tired look with messy hair, and that made me worry more. “B-baekhyun-” I called out before getting cut off like before. “Listen, I'm sorry for how I reacted, I'm not in the right mind space. But I need you to understand why you have to stay, it would make everything so much  easier.” Baekhyun said with an almost pleading tone. I closed my eyes and sighed before reaching out my hand, hoping baekhyun takes it. He gave me a quick look of desperation and then grabbed my hand roughly, pulling me into him. His arms wrapped around me and I did the same to him. My face dug deeper into his chest as his hands caressed the top of my head and my back. I slowly pulled away to look at him with a sad smile. All the things in my head were screaming at me as I looked into his eyes. His beautiful brown teary eyes. 

What if he doesn't come back? 

I tilted my head upwards to initiate the kiss I need so badly. 

What will you do without him in your life?

He caught my lips without a second thought and pulled me into him more by my waist. 

You could go if you wanted. Just sneak onto the jet. Who cares if he hates you afterward, at least you know you tried your best.

I tugged on his hair and slid my tongue into his mouth as his hands slid under my shirt and kneaded my waist. 

You won’t do it. You’re too scared. You’re such a little pussy. You think you won't come back alive.

I grabbed his shirt and pulled him with me while I walked backwards into the bed. Together we fell into the soft mattress and never once broke our locked lips.

You deserve to die if you can’t protect the one you love. You’re worthless.

I stopped in the middle of taking baekhyun’s shirt off and stared blankly at the ceiling, letting my thoughts cut deeply like a stab. “Aya?” Baekhyun called out to me in worry. My hands fell from their place, drifting away from him and to my face. I covered my teary eyes while baekhyun continued to call for me. A fire like heat started in my stomach before it began to spread out around the rest of my body. A feeling of being trapped made me lose breathe and I pushed baekhyun off of me to run to the other side of the room. I held my chest and took deep breaths while sliding down the wall I pushed myself against. Baekhyun ran over to me, grabbing my shoulders in concern 

“Aya, talk to me. What’s going on?”

I looked up, my heart and eyes overwhelmed with emotions. I bit my lip to hold back the tears as we made eye contact. “I can’t just agree with what you’re doing. I can't just be okay with it. It’s tearing me apart already and you haven’t even left. Please, don’t go. Let’s stop her some other way. I refuse to lose you.”

He stared at me with his mouth slightly open before licking his lips and running his left hand through his messy hair. He looked completely stressed out by my words and actions, I would be too if I were him. The way I'm acting right now isn't me, but I can’t help it. I wish I could. “I-” Baekhyun got cut off by a knock on the door making the both of us whip our heads to it. “Come in!” Baekhyun yelled after turning his attention back to me. His eyes roamed my face in search of something unknown while the person came in. 

“The jet is ready. Everything is looking good,” The random guy spoke in a professional voice. This guy probably works here and I have never seen him once. How big is this mansion? “Alright. I’ll be down in a few.” Baekhyun said to the man while still looking at me. He left the room after a respectful bow, shutting the door softly. Baekhyun put his arm next to my head while I looked at him in desperation. He leaned into me to gently place his forehead over mine, I basked in this moment, closing my eyes and holding onto his arm that’s placed on the wall next to me.

“I love you so much. Please stay safe, my love.” Baekhyun whispered sweetly to me. 

My heart raced when he pulled away from me and cracked a little when he turned his back. My eyes pierced his suitcase and i got up quickly. “Baekhyun! No, please!” I yelled, pleading for him to just stop. Just stay here. He ignored me and picked up his suitcase, walking away as if I wasn’t just yelling at him. “Baekhyun, please think this through more! Even if it’s just one more night! Stay with me!” I yelled more as I followed him out of our room and to the stairs. When we reached the bottom of the stairs I grabbed him roughly. I can’t have him walk out of my life like this. “Baekhyun, don’t, please.” I whispered when my hand started to shake. “If you go, I don’t know what I'm going to do with myself.” 

“Aya, if you love me like you say you do, please, please let me go.”  Baekhyun spoke with his back still facing me. 

I could feel everyone else’s eyes on us after coming out of their rooms to see what was going on. It’s my fault since I'm the one making a scene. But I don’t care about that right now. “Baekhyun, listen to me, what if you never come back? Do you really want this to be the last time we see each other?” I spoke with a pleading tone as I tugged on him. His eyes closed as he scrunched his face up, trying to fight the way I'm shooting him right in the heart with my words. “What we have is more special than any revenge. If you leave, you're leaving that here. Why can’t you see that!? Only you can make me beg like this! Stop making me swallow my pride and just come back into my arms. Let’s talk about this. Let’s think on it. Together.”

He finally opened his eyes and for split second he looked like my words made him change his stubborn mind. I saw his eyes fly passed me at something else and before I could look behind me the boy grabbed my face and kissed me roughly. I was taken by surprise before giving into the feeling and kissing him back. My hands went to wrap around baekhyun’s neck but he caught them, holding my wrists in his hands. He pulled away slowly, looking at me sweetly. “Chanyeol.” Baekhyun whispered when my waist was grabbed suddenly by big hands. 

“Hey! Let me go!” I yelled at chanyeol as he wrapped his arms around me to keep me restrained. I struggled as I watched baekhyun give a signal to his pilot that he's ready to go.  “Baekhyun. Don’t you dare walk out of this mansion.” I warned.

“I love you, aya. I’ll miss you. I promise you, I can do this, and I will come back to you. Just believe in me. Bye, guys.” Baekhyun spoke with a small smile. I struggled more with tears forming in my eyes. Why is he doing this? And why can’t understand his actions? Why can’t he understand mine? Would things still be the same if he did? Maybe he does. “Baekhyun, don’t! This is the last time I'm going to say. Don’t fucking leave me.” I said. Chanyeol’s hold on me felt almost good at this moment. It feels like it’s keeping from exploding. “Please.” I said as my last shot. After this im out of bullets. 

Baekhyun smiled sadly before grabbing his suitcase and turning his back on me again. How could he ignore me when I am pleading like this. I just don’t understand him. At this moment I feel like he shut me out of his mind. Or did I shut myself out? My head is too clouded to think clearly. So, I won’t think. “Fine! Leave! Ignore me! I don’t care! I was fine on my own before I met you! Fuck you, byun baekhyun!” I screamed at him while he walked further away from me. “I hate you.” I whispered to myself, letting all the tears stream down my face. Why am I like this? I'm too scared to go and I'm scared to stay. I'm scared of baekhyun leaving me forever. I'm scared of not being able to do anything to help him. I'm scared of going and dying. I'm scared to die. Since when did this happen? What happened to me? What did I do to myself?  

Chanyeol wrapped his arms around me in a more comfortable way than before. Maybe he sensed the things I was thinking. I jumped in his embrace before relaxing. “He loves you too.” He whispered into my ear. I Shut my eyes tightly and bit my lip. He’s trying to comfort me. I grabbed his arms and nodded.

“I know.”

My head is spinning as I stared at the ceiling of my room. Suho is gone. Baekhyun left. He took Chen instead of me. And now he told me to watch over aya carefully. As much as I love aya, to be honest, I would rather be there with him. I think all of us would have gone with him instead of staying actually, but he was being selfish. He thought it was all his fault so only he could handle it. But that’s probably some of the stupidest thought he’s ever had. He’s really an idiot. An idiot that better come back safely. 

It’s been a good four hours since he left. Aya went to her room and so did everyone else. I think we’re all just really emotionally drained right now. But who wouldn't be. That aside, I should probably go check on her soon. I want to give her space, but leaving her alone for too long seems like a bad idea. My eyebrows moved upwards while my mouth did the opposite. Seeing aya act like that almost broke me, seeing her tears and pleading face was too much for me to handle. I know baekhyun felt the same way. I could tell by his face his heart was breaking. That stubborn bastard. 

I got up from laying on my back and walked over to the door in my room that leads to the balcony. Not all of the rooms have one but I had to make sure mine did. It overlooks our backyard and makes a great entrance for the times I throw pool parties. Plus I get to watch the girls swim sometimes. Only sometimes, you know, when they don’t yell at me to stop being a perv.  Which is not my intentions, it’s just nice to see people enjoy the pool every once in a while. Speaking of that, my eyes caught a glimpse of someone laying poolside in a white bikini, making me lose all my thoughts. I squinted my eyes to see who it was better and smiled at what I found. “Aya.” I said under my breath. I watched her lift her soft chin upwards to let more of the morning sun hit her face. She looks so beautiful. As always. I ran a hand through my hair with slight frustration. The feeling of holding her is haunting me. She was just so soft. How can I not think about it?

How long have I been going on like this? Probably ever since I met her. I can’t even remember anymore. With that being said, it doesn’t drive me as crazy as it used to. Knowing i can’t have her. Knowing she doesn’t want me to have her. I remember how easy it was to tell her my feelings that night at the dinner party because I got over the fact that it was always going to be one-sided. Besides, moments later I watched her get fingered by baekhyun under the table so she probably wasn’t thinking about what I said to her after that. I sighed. What a night that was. I’ve been trying to move on for a while, but I love to love her too much. Other girls don’t even come close. How to get over someone as mind-blowing as you, aya? Please tell me. 

Aya moved forwards to sit up and tie her hair into a bun. I watched her every movement, my eyes sliding down her arms and to her chest, making their way to her waist and thighs before she got up. Her feet tapped closer to the edge of the pool stairs and she stepped down while holding onto the railing. The water slowly swallowed her breathtaking body while I shamelessly enjoyed every second of it. I smiled in satisfaction before getting startled by her pretty eyes piercing into me. Shit. I looked away quickly and put my hands on my hips, hoping to throw her off of thinking I was staring at her. I bit my lip when I still felt her eyes on me. The temptation to look at her as she looked at me won and I took a peek at her face. She looked kind of confused but then she put on a small smile and my heart did a tiny happy dance. I smiled back at her as she lifted a hand up to wave at me. I waved back with small motions, staring at her sweetly.

“Hi.”

My eyes opened when I heard the door for the backyard close. “Chanyeol.” I called for him with a smile. “Hey!” He called back, matching my smile. He came up the edge of the pool and sat down, sliding his feet and calves into the water. “Can I ask how you're doing?” Chanyeol spoke with concern. I began to swim over to where he was while I answered him. “I'm feeling fine. I'm sorry for freaking out like that.”

“It’s okay, We all felt the same way, I'm sure. Plus you had the right, he is your boyfriend after all. Don’t apologize for loving him, or for wanting to protect him.”

“You’re right, I'm still sorry though.” I chuckled. I never intended to go that crazy, but the mix of having suho gone and baekhyun leaving made my heart tremble in fear for some reason. I just couldn’t handle it. “Then again, all of it made me realize something.”  I said.

“And what’s that?” Chanyeol asked when he tilted his head towards the sun and squinted his eyes.

“Love made me soft.”

AUTHORS NOTE : im backkkk!!! and i cannot wait to make the next chapter! i hope you enjoyed this and thank you for readinggg im sorry if it was a bit trashy its hella late and i was so ready to finish and start start the next one. SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK! ive been gone too long so im going to try and push out some good chapters for you guys! thank you for your patience!

Kisses? <3333 lailaaa ~~~

#potent savages #baekhyun fanfiction #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #baekhyun fanfic #exo baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun smut #baekhyun smutty #baekhyun angst #exo gang au #baekhyun gang au #blackpink gang au

[morphituu]

Bell Peppers Ch. 9

“Weeks”

Archive of Our Own: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11

tumblr: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11

It was cold, even with a blanket draped over his shoulders, but the cold couldn't confine him to his empty house. Often in the two weeks that passed, he’d find himself somehow wandering into his backyard, sitting, staring at the bell peppers that were wrinkling the longer they frosted. And it was in those two weeks that he noticed he had picked up a particular habit of hers.

Often as he stared, lost in the strange fog that had become his thoughts, he’d bounce his leg. It made him impatient, but for what? He gave up expecting her call after the first few days, the likes of those days having been such agony.

He woke up the day after feeling like he’d ran for miles, but that hurt just… stayed.

It felt like he forgot a piece of himself at home when he didn’t contact her. He couldn’t think. His appetite was absent. He didn’t hear people speaking around him.

All the food she’d made at his home dwindled too quickly, and his fridge became barren, takeout containers eventually filling the space.

Ward knew it the first day he saw it. The chatterbox he knew Nick to be was silent, and he couldn’t recall seeing his phone in his hand like it used to be. The orc no longer showed him photos of his favorite person, or spoke of the plans they'd made. Ward knew, but said nothing, even when they’d pass the liquor store.

When those 2 weeks came up like a cruel reminder, Nick was adjusted. He worked, ate, and slept. He kept busy at work, the TV on at home, and downed Melatonin at night so there wasn’t spare minutes to sit and think of her. He already missed her so fucking much when he was busy, that he knew he wouldn’t be able to withstand facing the monster sitting on his shoulders during his alone time.

Sometimes he’d come as close as parking a few store lengths from the liquor store, so close to walking in, but as long as he decided against just asking her to talk, maybe start like they first did, he’d keep coming back to his backyard.

“I’d grow tea leaves, and tomatoes, maybe some potatoes,” she pondered, her big eyes squinted in thought.

“Tea leaves?” he asked, his shoulder leaning against the tall windows of the store.

“For my mom- she uses them to cook,” Callie explained, earning a thoughtful frown from him.

“Never even heard of them,”

“Oh yeah, I can imagine a seasoned farmer like you grows square watermelon and asparagus or something,”

He snorted, rolling sideways. “Carrots and lettuce, you brat. Been thinking of trying bell peppers,”

“I love bell peppers,” she sighed, resting her head back. Too bad they were in public- he craved to drag his tongue up her slender neck, taste the sweat he could see lining her chest from the blistering sun.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, and she nodded, equally captivated by the muscle of his shoulders she wanted to hang off of as she bounced in his lap. His head lolled towards her a little when she stepped closer, her chin bumping his shoulder.

“I’ll bring you a truck load,” he mumbled, lost in her freckles of her cheeks and honey skin, wanting nothing more than to nibble that plump bottom lip of hers.

“I’m gonna hold you to it, Nick. You come here too often for snacks to avoid me now,”

Above all, he wanted to hear her scream his name in pure desperation, begging for release.

“I come here for you, dummy,” he confessed, his wrist hung off one of the many items clipped to his belt. Callie’s smile was brighter than a sunrise, and he couldn't resist bending his wrist back to bump his knuckles against her flushed cheeks. Until she rested her forehead on his arm did they gaze at one another, both hiding their covet.

Nick grunted when he stood, tired from a day of absolute shit and barely the energy to bother buying food on his way home. It still sat on his counter, cold by now. He passed it on his way into the kitchen, instead grabbing for the bottle of Melatonin. That was all he could handle that night.

Callie didn’t sleep in her bed.

The coffee stand before her couch became the spot that held everything familiar, and comfortable.

Her phone, bag, some snacks, the remotes, even a few sweaters.

She slept her free days away, curled into the cushions and hiding from the daylight when a panic attack would hold her hostage in her own living room.

At work, she carried on. She was good at putting on the mask she needed to keep everyone out of her life, but not even music helped ease the ache that followed into her dreams.

When she stretched her arms above her head before the tall mirrors in the studio, her muscles protested. She thought dancing would help, but she couldn’t even find the energy to stand and twirl. Even slipping on her tights were too much of a chore; required too much energy she’d rather exhaust stuffing her legs into sweats and sleeping.

The light in her heart had dimmed.

She wondered why he didn’t stop by her store anymore.

She questioned why he didn’t call her, but in turn would ask herself why she hadn’t called him.

She was so exhausted, but sleep couldn’t fix this no matter how many hours she clocked.

She thought 2 weeks was enough time to pass for some kind of normality to come back into her days, but after Nick…

How do you get over someone, after being so in love with them?

When the slightest of energy crept into her limbs, and the yearn for relief pushed her to slide her hand beneath the band of her underwear, her mind drifted to Nick.

Wide shoulders shadowing her writhing form beneath, her knees to her chest, her hands upon his face as he'd kiss her, their breaths and moans intermingling. The steady rhythm of his narrow hips slamming between her thighs, over, and over, and over again until-

“We’re gonna get caught- ugh,” he tried to stop her, but she was so fucking good at this, even without the seat reclined. Maybe his fingertips digging into her gyrating hips was his attempt at stopping her, but it didn’t hinder her in any way. She figured he’d stop protesting when he hooked a thumb around her panties to keep them aside, marveling down at her pussy that graciously took his glazed dick, over and over.

“No one comes back here,” she panted, mewling when he straightened his hips, his dick sliding stiffer into her.

“Is that a pun?” he asked, smiling lazily up at her with half lidded eyes. She laughed, kissing him lovingly as his fingers tangled in her dark locks all around them, the police cruiser shaking in the dark of the alley behind her store.

She chased the fantasy that was once reality, but could never hold it close enough to keep it’s warmth from being blown out.

Her high was empty. Loneliness only reared its face soon after. She'd lay in the dark, deflated, the fight in her drained until sleep finally pulled her under, only after she allowed herself to accept this was her life again.

Callie knew better than this.

Even if her emotional state had been compromised during the passing weeks, that didn’t mean her common fucking sense had been.

But Ashely’s words had rang in her head: “Closure isn’t real- just cut you hair and move on.”

It had turned into 2 days of staring at her long hair in the mirror, suddenly aware of the weight, and the nuisance it had become brushing after sleeping so much. Where she had enjoyed running her fingers through her thick tresses, all she noticed now was how often it tangled.

Maybe a little extra weight off my shoulders would be nice.

Wrong. Rosie told her she’d regret it. Changes like this had no business being decided upon during the healing process.

But it was too late. She’d watched in silent horror as the stylist cut the ponytail from her head, the crunching of the strands between the blades of the scissors making her cringe, and after forty-five minutes of withholding screams to stop, she was left with hair above her shoulders, now thick curls that bounced around her ears like Rosie's without the weight holding them down.

She kept looking in the reflection of her phone while she watched TV, but would groan every time.

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder, would Nick like it?

The idea had shown through the clouds that fogged his thoughts a few days prior to deciding to ask Ward for his opinion on the matter. Whereas he hadn’t been able to form much of a coherent thought before then, this one manifested ever so clearly. It was his aha! idea that kept him from grabbing the Melatonin the night before, at last content with his own company.

He wanted- had to speak with Callie. Even if she still hated him, he had to tie up the loose ends. He couldn’t keep rethinking those last minutes together, and all the what-ifs. They were over- he groaned silently to himself- but he felt he’d left so much of himself behind with her that he needed back. If he was to truly get over her, no matter how badly he just wanted to collect her in his arms and smother her with adoration and apologies, he needed this reconciled.

“Hey Ward!” Nick called, jogging after his partner as he walked tiredly to the rig.

“What’s up?” Daryl replied, surprised that Jakoby seemed… not like a soulless husk, that afternoon.

“I need your advice on something,” Nick inquired, walking beside him. “It's about Callie,”

“Mhm?”

“We… split,” that was like swallowing glass. “But it ended so… it was so chaotic that I feel like it wasn’t really even a break up? It was like a fight we both haven’t gotten over, like shit is still there waiting to be talked about again,”

“Mhm,”

“I wanna call her, not to try and get back together even though I do- I just feel like I can’t even begin to get over her as long as all of that is still there,” Nick struggled to explain, his hands moving around.

“You two haven’t talked since?”

The Orc shook his head.

“You think you’ll be satisfied and ready to move on if you just clear the air?” Ward asked.

Nick ran his tongue over his clipped tusks, thinking critically. “Not really,”

“Then don’t go there deciding you just want to work out the stuff that happened. Work on the shit that’s happening,”

“What if she doesn’t want to?”

“You ain’t gonna know unless you start talking,”

“But we fought because of shit that happened-”

“Just-” Ward raised his hand to stop him. “Start talking. You can’t plan anything after that cause you don’t know what’ll happen until you just start talking.”

Nick flipped that around in his head, over and over, hours and hours. It dawned on him that all this time he’d desired to be with her again, but never considered trying to do so. It scared him. Thinking of what else she’d scream at him if he said something wrong. It scared him thinking of baring his soul for a second time. Could things ever go back to how they used to be?

What was better- a new, possibly strained relationship, or the memory of one that was in every sense to him, perfect?

All these questions, but Ward was right. They just had to start talking.

But not over text. Oh no. He put his phone away, realizing this conversation was better to hear in voice no matter how he itched to message her, but he didn’t want any emotions mis-communicated. Then maybe in person would be better? Would she give him the time to meet up? Of course she would; he knew his Callie girl.

To see her again… the tempo of his heart increased.

The rest of his shift, he’d thought over what he could say. Every apology, every promise to never take what they had for granted. Anything to hear those words from her again:

I love you, Nick.

No love had dissipated. It sometimes drove him to madness, wondering if he showed up at her door, with his heart held in his hands to return it to her, if she would let him in again.

He would wait until he was home.

He would call her, and ask if she would meet him so they could talk, and until she agreed to that, he would bridle his wildest fantasies. As he drove home, a familiar song drifted through the speakers. Nick hadn’t had the gall to listen to it since it all happened, but hearing it now rekindled warmth.

Their song she’d play while they cleaned, or cooked, sometimes as they drove to the store. The one she’d hold his face to, mouthing the words lovingly as he held her sides with a grin, sometimes pulling him with to dance. Hearing her sing those words close to his ear would calm any torment in his heart.

“Mm, keep going,” he insisted, his mouth muffled against her shoulder and his arms loose around her waist.

“I sound like a cow in misery,”

“You're my cow in misery. Keep goin’,” he said again, sighing contentedly with her warm body against his in his chilled house that hadn't yet warmed since arriving home. She scoffed, but stroked the back of his neck, ambling in slow circles with his big body leaned on hers.

“I need your love, honey, yeah. I need your love…”

“Crazy, crazy, crazy for your baby.” he crooned softly.

By the time he was home, night had fallen over LA. He could hear the distant call of a wintertide dragon, probably circling one of the summits nearby. Daylight savings seemed to stir them, but he could never figure out why a simple hour change would.

He had it all planned out as he stepped from his truck. He knew what to say, where to ask her to-

A hand over his mouth sent him into a frenzy. Before he could flail his arms, others were holding them. Strong grips from strong arms, connected to lumbering shadows that surrounded him. They dragged him effortlessly to the front of his truck, kicking open the gate to his backyard despite his muffled shouts and wild efforts to free himself.

As soon as they dropped him, crushing blows from steel toed boots kicked the wind from him, squandering his chance to shout for help.

Where one part of his body would retract, another kick would fly into him, from every direction, hitting every measure of his body.

He felt his ribs crack after the third or fourth hit, and the cold impact of a metal pipe against his knee.

His skull bounced off the ground with every impact of their fists against his head. His hands rose to try and stop them, but his fingers snapped back in a sickening crunch when they swung past it.

Curling into a ball did nothing. The kicks against his back rang in his kidneys, and that was when he managed to holler, but a boot on his face smothered him.

The pain, the raw agony of it, was drowning him.

Pass out, pass out, pass out-

Coppery blood filled his mouth, invading his sinuses. He choked, blinded by red when he tried to look at the dark figures around him.

Everything hurt. It all stung. Things burned.

And it felt like hours before they stopped.

He gargled past the blood, but only one eye worked. His head throbbed, and he wondered if his brain was swelling out of his ears.

A pale hand in the night grabbed his shirt and yanked up, but Nick was too heavy for him to lift.

“Orcs don’t belong with humans.” It hissed, but Nick’s vision was so blurred, all he saw were shapes and dark colors. When the figure spat on his face, it stung in the open cuts.

But those words hit him harder than anything.

Callie.

“D-don’ch fuckin’ touch’er!” he slurred, barely. He could feel the chips of a tooth lodged in his inner cheek, open and raw from his own fangs.

But the final blow of the metal pipe cracked against his skull sent him under. Into a world of black, and numb.

Ward thought it peculiar to not see Nick sat at the table in the briefing room, but brushed it off.

He figured he had a long night after he said he was planning on calling Callie.

Fucking finally, Daryl thought. Nick was like an abandoned puppy when he was sad, and he didn’t know how much more of the moping he could stand, or extra attention he felt he needed to give him even if his partner remained silent.

But as the last minutes ticked by, and he didn’t show up, Ward started to scan the room. When Nick had first joined the precinct, he’d made the mistake of waiting in the wrong room a few times, but that hadn’t happened since.

“Sit down, sit down and shut up, you assholes,” Heig announced, walking into the room that transitioned into a calm silence as he took the podium.

Their captain went about their announcements, but Daryl couldn’t stop staring at the door.

Never had Nick missed morning briefing. In the year he’d been here, he hadn’t even been late. If he took 10 seconds longer at the vending machine than intended, he’d text Ward.

He tensed his shoulder blade muscles to alleviate the discomfort. He could feel something poking the back of his head, aggravating his calm exterior.

Officers started to rise as their routes were announced. He still hoped Nick would walk in before their names were called-

“Three-Adam-Nine, Jakoby and- Ward… where the fuck is the Orc?” Heig asked over the commotion, looking at Daryl as he rose.

“I’m assuming he excused himself for the day?” Ward asked, approaching him.

“He fucking did not,” Heig muttered, flipping a few papers. “Rebecca never misses an absence call. Go find him, he’s probably wandering around somewhere.”

“Sir.” Ward acknowledged, leaving the room.

He checked everywhere. All the corners he would find Nick in when he was gloomy, and his favorite spot in the cafeteria, nor was he at the kit room or cruiser once the building had been cleared. Texts had gone unanswered as he swept the parking lot, even a phone call.

“Where’s your pet, Ward?”

Daryl turned, already knowing it was Gerrald, and met his passing sneer.

“Fuck off, pussy.”

He still chuckled as he passed, entering the building to leave Ward at the hood of the SUV. There were no carry-over calls to answer to, and as long as he could pass by Nick’s house quickly, he should be able to stay under the radar of his captain long enough to find out where the fuck Nick had up and disappeared to.

He continued to phone him, hopeful he’d answer before he finished the drive across town. Only voicemail.

“Nick pick up your fucking phone. Even if you and Callie ran off to Vegas at least tell me so Heig don’t fuck us both over.” he said angrily, ending the call.

He probably wouldn’t have been too pissed after the 30 minutes drive if his truck hadn’t been in his driveway, but he could only assume he was inside sleeping or something when he saw it parked there.

“Gonna fuck him up.” Ward said between clenched teeth, parking the cruiser quickly along the street and slamming the door behind him.

“Jakoby!” he shouted. Maybe if he was with Callie he’d startled them into never pulling this shit again.

But when he rounded the tail of the truck, he saw the open drivers side door, and the keys on the ground beside the wheel.

Everything stopped.

He didn’t pull his gun, but he did unclasp the strap.

“Nick?” he called, easing up on the open door and looking in. Nothing there except for Nick’s bag in the driver's seat. He backed up, scanning all his sides, looking for anything on the ground that might’ve been left behind. But who the fuck would kidnap him?

Or maybe he could’ve left somewhere in a rush?

He looked at the house, but it looked dormant. Why wouldn’t he take his keys in-

The ajar gate of the backyard fence caught him, and then the soul of a booted foot he could see behind the gate. A police issued boot.

Ward drew his gun, gliding over the ground with his shoulders pulled in until he was pressed against the tall fencing. He spun, taking both his sides, skimming the wide backyard for anyone, until he finally stepped around Nick’s motionless body.

“Nick! Nick? Jakoby?” Ward exclaimed, kneeling beside his partner.

No answer.

He checked his pulse; his rough skin was cold, but he thought he could feel the faintest trace of a heartbeat.

“Nick!” Ward yelled again, examining the extreme swelling and blood coating the Orcs face. He stood, his back against the wall of the house and his eyes stayed moving as he turned to his shoulder walkie

“Three-Adam-Nine, Code 3- I have an officer down and unresponsive. I need EMT in route immediately at 2217 Tildot Avenue. Code 999 for Officer Jakoby.” he broadcasted, kneeling by Nick again.

“Nick? Nick you gotta stay with me if you’re still there,” he demanded, shaking his shoulder.

There was nothing left of the Orc to be deemed alive, from what he could see. Cuts, mangled clothing- his middle and ring finger of his left hand bent back at an extreme angle, and blood. There was so much blood on and around him that it led Ward to assume he’d been here for hours, maybe all night.

“Jakoby c’mon,” he said again, and cleared his throat when his voice wavered.

“Three-Adam-Nine I need medical assistance now!” he shouted into the walkie.

He stayed by Nick’s side until he heard the sirens approaching, and left to the sidewalk to wave them down, pointing them in the direction of his fallen partner with his gun still gripped in his palm. More officers arrived, including their captain, who had enough heart to keep the snide comments to himself as he questioned Daryl.

It was clear Nick had been ambushed once everything was put together, but motive was unclear. His phone was near him and his wallet was still in his pocket, and they could’ve easily taken off with his truck but chose not to.

“Another Orc maybe. One man couldn’t do this, maybe if he was his equal size, but not alone,” Heig commented, jotting it down on the report. “He have enemies?”

Anyone the Fogteeth rivaled would be an enemy, Ward pondered, but shook his held. Amongst humans, his blooding was still unknown for the most part.

“We have forensics dusting and looking, so we’ll have a better idea of what happened when they’re done. You filled out your witness report?”

“Yes sir,” Ward replied, watching Nick being carted away on the gurney and into the rig. Barely stable, still unconscious. As long as he wasn’t being taken away in a black bag.

“Does he have family? Significant other?”

“I believe so,”

“Contact them. He’s going to LAC. Good work, Ward.” Heig finished, giving his arm a couple steady pats.

Good work?

Daryl watched them close the doors to the rig, and looked at the soul of Nick’s boot before he was hidden. He was handed Nick’s phone and keys in a ziploc, but realized there’d be no way of guessing his passcode, or knowing where his parents lived.

But he knew where Callie was.

↠

“It’s cute!”

“It’s not,” Callie groaned, smoothing her hands down her short hair.

“Okay but doesn’t it feel better?” Ashely smiled.

Callie glared, shaking her head slowly with a frown. “It’s like I amputated a limb,” she mumbled.

“Oh my god, drama, you’ll get used to it,” Ashely said as Callie moved to the back of the store.

“I hate it!”

The blonde chuckled and returned to organizing the front rows of candies where people deposited second guessed items when they made it to the register, tossing the randoms into the box under her arm.

“You can try wearing it up? Or dyeing it…” Ashely trailed off when the sirens she’d heard down the street were suddenly blaring through the front doors. The cruiser stopped abruptly outside, and Ashely looked at Callie who had come back from the office, a clipboard and label maker in hand.

When Ward rounded the front and sped in, she tightened her hold on the clipboard. It only took a moment to scan and find her, but Callie was looking behind him, waiting for Nick to follow in, but he never did.

“Is it…?” she breathed, unable to finish. She couldn’t finish that.

Please god no.

“He’s alive, but you need to come with me.” He labored.

“Alive-” she gasped, already panicked.

What had he survived!?

Ashely was already taking the items from her arms and switching with Callie’s bag, telling her she’d inform her Uncle. Confusion, and immense dread swarmed her eyes before she followed Ward out, the two climbing into the cruiser with lights and sirens starting up before speeding away.

hello, welcome back after the small hiatus! thanks to everyone who has left such kind words, in depth comments, and just showed general interest in this little story of mine, both on here and Ao3! i love you all, and you all keep me motivated to keep writing 😊

but please don’t kill me after this chapter c:

#bright #bright movie #bright fandom #bright fanfic #nick jakoby #nick jakoby fanfic #nick jakoby x oc #orc boyfriend #terato tag #terato writing #bell peppers #fogteeth #orc boy #orc fanfiction #morphinetune #archive of our own #orc romance #orc x human #bright fanart #nick jakoby fanart #reblog #monster boyfriend #monster love

[sampaii-ca]

Hunger (Klance fic)

Have you ever been so in love with a character it makes you cry?  Ya well that's Keith for me lol happy birthday you funky little Galra and beautiful knife boy!

Today's prompt was birthday...duh.

*** Lance couldn’t take his eyes off of the stage in front of him.  He never in his wildest dreams would have thought he’d be graced by the spectacle that is unveiling in front of him at the moment.

The date is October 23rd.

Time: a few minutes past 10pm.

Place: Balmera Cove aka a dive bar with a karaoke machine.

Said machine is part of the cause of Lance’s entertainment at the moment.  His husband is currently on stage belting out the lyrics to “My Heart Will Go On”.  Lance has the biggest grin on his face as he records Keith trying with all his might to hit those impossibly high notes.  It comes out sounding more like a dying cat than anything resembling a note Celine carries, but Lance loves it and can’t stop staring at the beautiful, and very tipsy, man singing on stage.

The gang all came out tonight to celebrate Keith’s 30th birthday, Balmera Cove was a local dive that they frequented often when they could all go grab a drink and catch up.  Since they were known as regulars, the bar let them decorate for Keith’s birthday.  Pidge had the bright idea to post “Over the Hill” tombstone posters everywhere to make fun of Keith’s ripe old age of 30.  Lance wanted to make something more sentimental so he went and visited Keith’s mom to collect a bunch of childhood photos to make a collage, which now hangs above the booth the gang has claimed as their own.  Lance couldn’t stop cooing at every photo he looked at and had a hard time picking his favorites.  The one where Keith was 5 and had on a superman cape, just his underwear and the biggest smile was probably his absolute favorite though and he decided to put it smack dab in the middle of the collage for everyone to see.  Keith turned bright red when he saw the damn thing and Lance took pride in the fact that he could still fluster Keith even after years of being married.

Now back on stage, Keith finished up his song and hopped off.  He strode towards Lance and stumbled a little bit into his open arms.

“Hi babe.”  Lance chuckled into the top of Keith’s head.

Keith looked up with a lazy smile and hazy eyes, “Hi….Lance…”  He poked Lance in the chest, “My Lance.”  Then he pecked Lance on the lips.  “Did you like my song?”

Lance felt a little starstruck at the gorgeous creature in his arms, even if his breath smelled like tequila and he was sweating a little.  It took him a moment to realize Keith had asked him a question.

“Of course babe!  You were great!  I knew you could do karaoke.”

Keith snorted and gave Lance an incredulous glance, “O please, I know I’m terrible.  The only reason I got up there was because of the 2 shots of tequila Pidge bought for me.  Nothing like a little liquid courage to help me.”  He chuckled and took Lance’s hand.  “Come ooooon.  We’re up next!”

“Wait..we?”  Lance followed Keith to the side of the stage as he dragged him along.

“Well duh!  We need to do a duet!”

“What are we singing?”

Keith smirked up at Lance and Lance felt a little thrill run through him, he knew that smirk.  It was the one Keith wore when he wanted to cause trouble.  It usually resulted in Lance embarrassing the hell out of himself or had him and Keith running away to sneak off to be alone.  Seeing as he and Keith were walking up on stage right now, looks like the former was most likely to occur.

“Babe, what song are we singing?”  Lance asked again as Keith handed him a microphone.

“You’ll know it when it starts.”  Keith winked at him and pressed play on the machine.

The beat started up and Lance immediately recognized it.

“Yooooooo..I tell you what I want!  What I really really want!”  Keith sang.

“So tell me what you want, what you really, really want!”  Lance parried back.

“I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want!”

“So tell me what you want, what you really, really want!”

“I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha)

I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah!”  Lance gave a little hip shimmy as he sang.

They continued their duet while also trying to dance with each other which resulted in them missing a few verses.  But neither one of them cared.  Their smiles were only directed at each other and Lance couldn’t help but be reminded at how lucky he was to have Keith by his side.  His perfect duet and life partner.

***

A few drinks later and now past midnight, Lance was having a very intense, drunken, conversation (more like argument) with Pidge on whether or not a hot dog is classified as a sandwich.

“Pidge,” Lance slurred a little and pointed at Pidge.  She looked right at his finger and it resulted in her going a little cross eyed, which ended up looking way funnier than it should have because it was amplified by her glasses.  “Look, a sandwich is defined as: a food typically consisting of vegetables, sliced cheese or meat, placed on or between slices of bread,  more generally any dish wherein two or more pieces of bread serve as a container or a wrapper.  According to Wikipedia.  So a hot dog is the meat and the bun is bread, the hog dog sits in the middle of the bread.  So it is a SANDWICH!”

Pidge scoffed and crossed her arms.  “Lance, when you order a hot dog do you say ‘I want a hot dog sandwich?’  No!  You say I want a hot dog!  Just hot dog!  It’s in it’s own category!”

“It’s still meat in bread!  A sandwich!”

“No it’s not!  It’s just a hot dog!”  Pidge stood up and leaned into Lance’s space and flicked him on the forehead. “HOT DOG.”

Lance was about to retaliate when Keith plopped down next to him with a round of fresh beers for them.

“What are we talking about?”  He asked taking a sip from his beer.

“Lance here thinks a hot dog is a sandwich.”  Pidge huffs and grabs her beer.

“Wait, what?  No it’s not. It’s just a hot dog.”  Keith turns to look at Lance and Pidge slams her fist on the table.  “HA!  I TOLD YOU!”

Lance squawks and puts his hand over his heart.  “Keith, babe, sweetie, light of my life.  A hot dog IS sandwich and I can’t believe you think otherwise!  And you’re supposed to agree with me on everything!  I am your husband!”

Keith glances up at Lance through his lashes and that damn smirk is back.  He slides his hand up Lance’s thigh under the table, stopping just short of his crotch.  He dances his fingers lightly on the inside, tapping out a slow rhythm.  He leans in, lips ghosting across Lance’s ear.  “I know what kind of ‘hot dog’ I’d like to eat later.”  His hand finally presses into the bulge in Lance’s pants.

Lance audibly gulps and a flush rushes to his cheeks.  He glances across the table to find Pidge rolling her eyes and muttering gross as she downs her drink and leaves the booth to find the others.

Keith has now taken up residence in the crook of Lance’s neck and is leaving a trail of small kisses.  Lance pushes him back so he can look at his face and Keith makes a little whining noise.

“Baaaabbbeeee.”  Lance wants to continue this but he knows him and Keith will get scolded by  Shiro if they start making out in the booth.  They may be grown men now but Shiro still acts like the dad of the group and this isn’t the first time this has happened and it probably won’t be the last.

“What?  It’s my birthday and I want to unwrap my present.”  Keith breathes across Lance’s lips and grips his crotch a little tighter for emphasis.

Lance is ashamed at the squeak that escapes him but he isn’t about to deny Keith what he wants.  Let’s face it, Lance is weak for Keith on a normal day so considering it’s his birthday, who is he to deny his husband anything.

He scooches Keith out of the booth and takes his hand.  They make their way towards the bar where the rest of the group is getting drinks.  

“Hey, so Keith is getting hungry so we’re gunna go grab something to eat.”  Lance explains, all the while Keith has his arms around his waist from behind and is buried in his neck again.  

Everyone looks at them with skeptical glances.  “O he’s definitely hungry for SOMETHING.”  Pidge looks them up and down with a smirk.  “Hungry for dick.”

“PIDGE!”

“Well she’s not wrong.”  Keith says as he nibbles on Lance’s ear.

“Keith!”  Lance squirms in his hold and waves goodbye to everyone.  “Ok, we’re out of here.  Let Rolo know we’ll be back tomorrow to take down the decorations.  Thanks guys!”  He grabs Keith’s hand and starts to walk towards the exit.  They all yell happy birthday to Keith and he glances back at the group and waves in thanks as they walk out the door.

***

Lance has been trying to get the key in the lock for the past few minutes but he’s having a hard time concentrating when Keith is plastered to his back and his hands are roaming up and down his sides.  Keith’s kisses on his neck are light and fleeting and has Lance squirming under the attention.  

He finally, FINALLY, manages to unlock the door and they stumble into their house.  Once the door closes Keith wastes no time in pushing Lance against the door and covering his mouth with his own.  Lance can taste the alcohol on Keith’s lips but his probably taste just the same.

“God you taste good.”  Keith pants into Lance’s mouth.  Keith reaches for the bottom of Lance’s shirt and attempts to take it off but Lance stops him.  Keith pulls back with a pout and gives Lance a questionable glare.

“I have a surprise for you.  Let’s go the bedroom.”  Lance pulls Keith down the hall and they slip into their room.  Their two cats Rose and Aqua lay sleeping in the corner chair.

Lance forces Keith to sit on the edge of the bed and he walks over to the ipod dock and turns on some music.  Keith’s eyes go wide as Lance slowly turns around and starts to slink towards him.  Keith has a feeling where this is going and his grin is so wide he’s surprised his face doesn’t crack in two.

Lance stops in front of Keith and plays with the bottom hem of his shirt, barely raising it to show just a sliver of skin.  All the while swaying his hips to the music.  Keith reaches out to run his fingers over Lance’s tantalizing stomach but his hand is smacked away.

“Ow, what the hell Lance.”  Keith pouts and tucks his hands in his lap.

“No touching, not until I’m done.”  Lance sing songs as he turns around slowly so his back is facing Keith.

He starts to lift the hem of his shirt up, slowly, o so slowly and Keith can see his back muscles flexing as they work to lift the shirt up over his head.  Keith is practically drooling on himself, he’s always had a thing for Lance’s back.  Ever since he first saw Lance at swim practice.  He could stare at the corded muscles and broad shoulders for hours.

Lance turns around and Keith mourns the loss of Lance’s back but disappointment is quickly washed away as Lance’s abs are on full display now.  Keith is definitely drooling now, he’s seen Lance naked at least a thousand times but every damn time it still manages to take Keith’s breath away.  He knows it’ll be like that all the way until they are old and grey.

Lance takes his shirt and pulls it taunt between his hands and shimmies towards Keith, he plops down in Keith’s lap and wraps the shirt around his neck to hang there.  Lance starts to grind his hips and runs his fingers through his own hair, shooting a coy look over at Keith.  Lance then grabs his shirt on both ends and tugs Keith’s face towards him, stopping just shy of his lips.  Keith’s eyes close expectantly but all Lance does is ghost his lips across Keith’s and stands up.  

Keith makes a whimpering sound at the loss of warmth from Lance’s body.  Again, no time to dwell on said loss because Lance is a few feet in front of him now, undoing his belt buckle.    Lance lossen’s the buckle and zips down his fly.  Keith looks like a fish, mouth hanging open, eyes wide, pupils blown out with lust as he watches Lance.  Lance loves the fact that he can make Keith look at him like that, revels in the fact that if Lance let him, Keith would have ripped his clothes off already.  Lance starts to work his pants down his legs, he turns so his backside is to Keith, wants to get Keith drooling again.  

But Lance is realizing his mistake now, he wore skinny jeans.  Jeans so skinny that it usually took him a few minutes to shimmy into the them and get them on.  He manages to get them down over his ass and he can hear Keith’s intake of breath at the sight of the booty shorts Lance has on underneath.  They are a deep shade of red, a color he knows Keith loves on him.  Lance smirks and forces his pants down to his ankles, almost off he thinks.  He realizes this next part isn’t going to be very graceful but he works his foot out of one pant leg and steps on the mess of pants on the floor to get his other foot out without having to bend over.  He almost has it done too but his foot gets caught in the tight ankle of the pants and he loses his balance.  He windmills his arms trying to regain his balance but it’s too late.  That, mixed with the alcohol in Lance’s system sends him toppling to the ground.

“Eeeppp!!”  Lance squeaks as he crashes to the floor.  

“Lance!”  Keith yelped as he watched in slow motion his adorable disaster of a husband land flat on his back.

Lance ended up starfished across their floor, staring at the ceiling with his foot still stuck in his pant leg.  Keith came into his line of vision, “Hey babe, how’s the weather down there?”  Keith snickers as he extends his hand out to help Lance up.

“O shut up.”  Lance growls.  “I was trying to be sexy!  I wanted to blow your mind with a seductive lap dance.”  He pouts as he takes Keith’s hand and is hoisted up off the floor.  Keith kneels down and puts Lance’s hands on his shoulders.  

“Lift your leg up babe.”  Lance does and Keith gently tugs off the stuck pant leg from his foot.  He tosses the pants aside and stands up so he’s face to face with Lance who is still pouting.

“Aww babe, don’t pout.”  Keith tries to console Lance but he can’t help the snicker that leaves his lips.  Lance shoots him a glare but he can tell there’s a smile starting to creep onto his face.

Keith hooks his arms around Lance’s waist and snakes his hands down his backside, kneading the firm muscle through the booty shorts.

“These are nice,” Keith snaps the waistband of the shorts.  “You know how much I love you in red.”

Lance hums in appreciation, “That’s why I bought them.”

“I liked your lap dance too.”  Keith starts to kiss up Lance’s neck.  Lance snorts, “Well it could have gone better.”

Keith nuzzles under Lance’s neck and nibbles at the soft skin.  “I’m still hungry though.”

A shiver runs through Lance as he answers, “Then let’s eat.”  He kisses Keith and whispers, “Happy Birthday love.”  And he grins as Keith picks him up and they fall onto the bed and get tangled in the sheets until the early hours of the morning.

***

They don’t make it back to the bar to clean up until late in the afternoon the next day

#klance #Klancetober #keithtober2k18 #keith kogane #lance mcclain #established klance #married life #30th birthday #Daily Prompt #writing challenge #dorks that are head over heels for each other

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

Another kinky wager

Summary: As he previously promised, Bucky helps you work out all those irritating little kinks in your pool game. Characters: Bucky x Reader Warnings: Absolutely NSFW. It’s all sex and pool tables folks, please walk away unless you’re over 18.  

A/N: Decided to write a follow-up to ‘Pool balls and underpants’, because I just couldn’t move on without a smutty sequel. This can read as a stand-alone story, but it will make more sense why Bucky’s wearing Steve’s underwear if you read the first part. And besides, who doesn’t love reading sassy sexual innuendos from Bucky Barnes? Also, I meant this to be short, and once again my imagination spiralled out of control, and here we are. I regret nothing.

Pool balls and underpants  MASTERLIST

He’s startled for a moment, before a sly smile stretches across his face, and he whips around to follow, white socks slipping and sliding on the smooth tiles as he chases after you.

You grin to yourself when you hear the hurried shuffling behind you, and a moment later, you feel cool metal fingers closing around your wrist. Spinning you around to face him, Bucky swiftly backs you against the wall, laying his palms flat on either side of your face. His expression is disturbingly mischievous, and you see his blue eyes darken when he touches your cheek with his nose, inhaling the scent of your skin.

Curling your hand behind his neck, you pull him in, closing your eyes before his lips meet yours.

But nothing happens. The sound of AI fills the hallway.

“Sergeant Barnes, Captain Rogers has just instructed me to tell you he needs you immediately.”

“Tell him no.” Bucky doesn’t move, eyes still closed, lips so close.

“I’m afraid I can’t. There’s an urgent brief that’s just arrived.”

“Tell him to fuck off.”

“I’m sorry sir, Captain Rogers is saying no. He’s also requested that I state, quote, don’t be a dick who starts something he can’t finish, especially when you’re wearing my underwear. End quote.”

Swearing under his breath, Bucky leans back to look at you, beyond frustrated at the interruption. “This isn’t over.”

Gently shooing him away, you give him a wink. “I certainly hope not.”

*****

It’s been three very long weeks. That little interaction in the hallway was enough to leave you weak in the knees, and the ridiculous thing was, nothing actually happened.

Searching for something to keep you occupied until the team returns, you’re wandering the vacant compound after hours, when you come across the little library on the top level. It’s beautiful, full of old books and dark leather chairs and crystal decanters brimming with expensive whiskey.

But the best part? The gorgeous hand-crafted pool table, just begging you to give it a try.

Delighted at the discovery, you grab a stick off the wall. A little practice never hurt anyone, right?

“So - are you in here to tempt me on purpose?”

His voice makes you jump, and you turn to find Bucky reclining against the doorframe. Hair still damp from a shower, arms are casually crossed, he stares intently.

Fighting an excited smile, you give a nonchalant shrug. “Fringe benefit. Besides, everyone needs a little practice now and then. Even me.”

He’s still watching closely, the lust obvious in his blue eyes.

“I’m here to officially petition for a rematch.”

“Are you now? I’m open to discussing. But first, can you do me a favour?”

“I can do you lots of favours sweetheart.”

Sighing patiently, you nod at him. “Could you please just call my cell phone? I can’t find it.”

It’s an odd request. He shoots you a wary look before pulling out his phone. There’s a moment of silence before you both hear the ring, or rather, the muted sounds of a Jay-Z song tinkling in the air.

“I’m a hustler baby! I just want you to know. It ain’t where I been, but where I’m ‘bout to go.”

Keeping your face impassive, you reach into your back pocket for the phone and silence it.

“Oh, by the way, I changed your ringtone. Seemed appropriate.”

Bucky’s nose twitches. He steps into the room, kicking the door shut behind him and giving you a dark smile as he flips the lock. His eyes run up and down your body, from your bare toes and old jeans, to the loose white t-shirt you wore.

“Look sweetheart, let’s not dance around the subject. You know this is inevitable, right? We’re gonna happen sooner or later.”

“Probably so,” you agree out loud. Good god, I hope so, you agree internally.

“So, let’s make it interesting, maybe a little wager on the terms. What do you say?”

Tilting your head, you consider. “I’m listening.”

“Here’s my proposal. Winner picks the time. Winner picks the place. And just to keep it kinky, winner gets to pick the only three words the loser can say when I’m fucking you.”

Summoning every ounce of poise, you struggle to maintain a bored expression, although you’re sure he can hear your heart thrumming in your chest.

“Alright. And when I win, I’ll be sure to come up with three impossible words, in the hope that you can shut your mouth for more than 10 minutes.”

Bucky bursts into laughter and all you can think right now is how stupidly adorable he looks when he laughs. God damn, that’s so annoying.

“Goal is to sink as many shots as possible in a single turn. Once you miss, the balls re-rack and the other person starts. You can do anything to screw with your opponent’s concentration, short of touching them or obstructing the shot. The filthier the better. Get creative.”

The two of you are slowly moving toward each other, tension crackling in the air.

Bucky inclines his head in agreement, and reaches into his pocket. “Flip a quarter to see who breaks first. You call it.”

You’re literally toe-to-toe with him. He holds the coin on his thumb, and smirks while he waits for your answer. Letting your tongue take a slow circle around your lips, you raise an eyebrow.

“I’m a sucker for heads.”

“Well that’s good sweetheart, because I love getting tails.”

With a flick of his finger, Bucky flips the quarter in the air and catches it on the back of his hand, giving you a smug look when it reveals tails.

“Guess I’m up.”

Sauntering to the table, he twirls the pool cue through his long fingers. Grabbing the other stick, you trail your fingers up and down the pole, throwing him your best seductive look.

“Speaking of getting up, you know I’ll be happy to help you with that.”

Glancing up from the table, he grins. “Oh, I’m counting on it sweetheart, but you’re gonna have to try harder.”

The balls break with a loud crack, two solid colours immediately falling in.

“Well look at that.” He straightens up, beaming at you. Strolling around the table, he finds another shot, nodding silently toward the far pocket.

You realise immediately, you’ll need to be proactive, before he gets too far. Snatching a glass of water from the side table, you make a game time decision. 

And pour the liquid down the front of your shirt.

“Clumsy me. Look at this, I’m so…wet.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and bends into his shot, giving it his full concentration. Narrowing your eyes, you set the empty glass down and keep trying.

Stripping off your shirt, you let it drop to the floor with a plop.

Laying your hands on the table, you lean forward, squeezing your breasts together, giving him a clear view of your lace covered assets. Biting your bottom lip, you purr his name.

“Buck…”

He gives a cursory glance up at the sound, and does a comical double-take. The pool cue slips in his fingers, glancing off the ball, ruining the shot.

“God dammit,” he breathes, eyes still glued to your chest.

Laughing at the dazed look on his face, you curtsy.

“Guess you don’t quite have the stamina to finish the job. Would have been nice if you’d given me more of a challenge here, Barnes.”

Gathering the balls, you re-rack them and move everything into position.

Bucky chews his lip for a moment, contemplating his strategy. The idea arrives quickly and his face clears. Giving you a heated look, he fists a hand in the neck of his shirt, yanking it over his head. There’s a jingling click when he opens his belt buckle, and his eyes stay locked on you as he undoes the button of his jeans and slides down the zipper.

Rolling your eyes, you square your shoulders and attempt to ignore the wide view of solid muscle. Leaning forward, you concentrate on the shot, making damn sure he can see your breasts spilling over the cups of your bra.

And then you hear it.

A low, guttural moan rumbling from deep in his chest, and you can’t help looking up. Bucky has those shiny metal fingers pushed down the front of his jeans, his eyes locked on your breasts, breath coming in harsh pants, while he takes long, slow strokes of his cock.

The pool stick fumbles in your fingers. You miss the shot.

You miss the first fucking shot.

Oh shit.

There’s a moment of absolute silence, both of you frozen in surprise.

“So.” The triumph in his voice is unmistakable. He slowly pulls his hand from his jeans and stalks toward you. “That was unexpected.”

Fucking hell. How the fuck did this happen?

“You do know what this means? I. Fucking. Win.”

Oh god. He’s just never going to let this go.

“Can you remind me the terms of our wager please?” He’s standing in front of you now, deep voice smooth and polite.

“You know the terms, asshole.”

“No, I need you to recap them please. Considering the ideas in my head right now, I don't want any confusion.”

The quiet whine passes your lips before you can stop it, and at the sound, Bucky’s hands immediately grip your hips.

“Winner picks the time. Winner picks the place. Winner picks the three words.” 

“And remind me, what does the loser do?”

You grit your teeth, infuriated you lost, but so unbelievably turned on at the husky sound of his voice.

“Everything.”

“Perfect. Well, I choose right now sweetheart, here on this pool table. And as for those three words?”

He lifts three fingers, ticking them off as he goes.

“One is Bucky. I really love when you say my name, you do this thing where you draw out the 'y' and it just...mmm yeah.”

“Two is harder. I'm sure you'll want to use that often.”

“Three...I'm throwing a wildcard in here. Three is hustle. That’s how we ended up here and I really wanna see what you do with that one. Feel free to moan and scream, I like those sounds too. And maybe let me hear that sexy little hum you do when you're concentrating.”

He really was going all out on this.

“Let’s get started, shall we? Turn around, hands in front of you.”

With a huff of lust-fueled annoyance, you slowly turn, gripping the edge of the table nice and tight.

He skims his hands down your rib-cage, sliding them to rest at the front of your jeans, and fiddles with the button before he undoes it and slowly slides the zipper down. Reaching both hands down the front, he keeps them outside your underwear, and you shiver at the combination of hot and cold, metal and flesh. Humming in your ear, he slides them back to grip a handful of your ass, digging his fingers into your flesh, and massaging the skin. Nuzzling the back of your neck, you can feel him drawing lazy little patterns with the tip of his tongue.

Hooking his thumbs in the waist of your jeans, he yanks them to your knees, before stepping forward and pushing down the fabric with his foot, where it pools around your ankles. You move to step out of them, but he keeps his foot in place, stopping you.

“Wait. Let’s see if you remember what we learned before you pulled that little stunt last time. I think the first thing was to get in position and spread your legs for me.”

At the reminder of his words, and the sound of his gravelly voice dropping lower, the air leaves your lungs in a rush. Moving your feet as far apart as the jeans will allow, you lean forward slightly.

Bucky reaches up to grip the back of your neck with his metal fingers, leaving his warm hand to trail down your back. When he lands at your waist, he finally slides his hand into the front of your underwear, fingers resting briefly on your clit.

When he feels how unbelievably wet you already are, he gives a little tut.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you like losing.” He slides his fingers lightly through your folds, gathering the slick feel on his hand and your hips jerk reflexively, craving more friction. “Is that it? You like losing sweetheart?”

There’s amusement in his voice, and he continues the delicate strokes, until you’re straining against him, desperately eager for more. When he leans into you, he rests his chin on your shoulder, and you watch his damp fingers as they drift up your stomach, following the line of your body, until you turn your face to meet his steady blue gaze. A groan falls from your lips when he sucks his fingers into his mouth.

“Bucky…” You never realised how frustrating it could be to hold back your words, curses and pleas laying tantalisingly on the tip of your tongue.

But at this point, everything about him is so deliciously filthy, maybe his name is the most appropriate expletive you could find anyway.

He smiles around his fingers, eyes bright as he watches you struggle. Pulling them from his lips, he reaches down to give your ass a quick smack, before moving your underwear to the side and shoving two fingers deep into your cunt.

“Bucky!” You hiss his name this time, the feel of his thick fingers finally easing the ache between your legs. Wiggling your hips, you urge him to move his hand, and he complies, but it’s too gentle, too shallow. Every time you buck back onto his hand, he draws it away, never giving you the pressure you need. 

Slapping your hands against the pool table, you let out a frustrated growl.

“Bucky.”

“Yeah sweetheart? Something you want to say? Come on, use your words for me.” 

He’s really making you earn it, but you know what he wants to hear.

“Harder, Bucky.”

With a low chuckle, Bucky immediately picks up the pace, pumping his fingers into you hard and fast, curling and twisting them, finally hitting that spot there, deep inside. His quick breaths are hot in your ear, and you shudder when you hear his soft grunts as he feels you clench around his fingers.

The orgasm is sudden and unexpected when it hits, and with a strangled gasp, your knees buckle as you slump forward. Bucky twines his metal arm tight around your chest, holding you upright, his fingers still moving as you writhe against him. His mouth burns where he tastes your skin, licking and nipping with his teeth, murmuring encouragements as you spiral from the high.

The aftermath tingles like electricity, and when you relax against his chest, you can feel the dark bristly hair rubbing against your skin. Peppering small kisses down your neck, his hand slows before finally pulling away from you, and in a swift move, he snags your underwear and pulls it completely down, helping you step out of everything before kicking the pile under the pool table.

Spinning you in his arms, you grin at the pride in his face, before he bends to capture your lips, his tongue sliding against your teeth. He moans quietly into your mouth when you take his face between your palms and tangle your tongue with his. When he breaks the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours and asks another question.

“Remember the second thing I taught you during our lesson? About making sure your grip is just right? Can’t be too tight or too loose.”

He guides your hand to the front of his boxers, and you rub you fingers against the hard outline you find. Humming your remembrance of the lesson, you slide your hand beneath his waistband, hearing his breath catch at the feel of your cool fingers on his flushed skin.

Eagerly pulling down his jeans and boxers in one motion, he kicks them into the pile of your clothes he’s collected. Now that he’s standing here completely naked, it’s difficult not to feel intimidated at the sight. His dark hair falls in a messy tangle, blue eyes electric as he stares; with every tiny move, his entire body ripples with muscle, across his shoulders and arms, down his chest, to his thick thighs. Everything is sharp and defined, simply mouth-watering.

Maybe...you’re not quite as disappointed about losing as you thought.

Swallowing hard, you drag your eyes back up to his, finding amusement in his face as he watches you ogling him. Moving closer, he reaches behind you and unhooks your bra, tugging it off and tossing it over his shoulder. Taking your hands in his, he weaves his fingers through yours and brings them to his mouth, dropping light kisses across your knuckles, before giving you an innocent look and placing your hands back on his cock. Shaking your head indulgently, you stroke up and down, mesmerised by the velvety feel of his skin.

Bucky sighs at the feeling, looking down between your bodies to watch your hands move on him. He’s absolutely in love with the sight, your dark purple nails against his skin, the way you rub your thumb over the tip of his cock, how soft your hands feel, it’s sexy as hell. When you give his balls a tug, he gasps, the feel of it loosening his tongue, his thoughts spilling from his lips.

“Fuck, I’ve been walking around with a constant fucking hard on since the moment I met you. And that day in the bar? Jesus Christ. Bending over the pool table with your skirt riding up, watching you wrap your lips around the whole god damn bottle when you drank your beer, fuck. I spent that entire night jacking off thinking about it.”

His words are insanely raw and filthy and you love it, because you’ve felt the same way since the moment you laid eyes on him. It’s nice to discover he’s been suffering as well.

Bracing his hands on the table behind you, he curves his neck down to your chest, catching a nipple between his teeth, swirling his tongue across the skin. When you begin to stroke him faster, he instinctively jolts in your hands, and sucks even harder.

“You know, we really should see how well your mouth can grip.” He whispers as he glides his tongue between your breasts, his beard scraping the delicate skin.

Humming your agreement, you sink to your knees in front of him, looking up to watch his face. His eyes are focused intently on you, and when you flick your tongue against the head of his cock, the reaction is immediate and satisfying.

So damn satisfying.

Bucky’s head drops back, and he closes his eyes with a sigh, relishing the hot, wet feel of your mouth, as you suck and lick up and down his length. Scratching your nails lightly down his thighs, you reach around and give his ass a teasing slap. His eyes pop open in surprise, and he looks down and gives you a wink.

Hands floating to the back of your head, he holds you gently in place while he presses his cock further. It’s clear what he wants, but he’s hesitant to push too hard, unsure how you’ll react. Releasing him, you lick your lips and look up.

“Harder, Bucky,” you demand.

He nearly swallows his tongue at the look on your face, and when you wrap your lips around him again and groan, the vibration tickles his cock, and he immediately slams his hips forward.

“Oh fuck, please fucking hell, again, do it again, please!”

If his cock wasn’t buried in your throat right now, you might start laughing. After all, hearing Bucky Barnes beg for anything is a small victory itself.

He groans when he feels the sound, the way your throat buzzes against his tip, and moments later, his entire body begins to shake, riding the edge so perfectly. But while he’s thoroughly enjoying the slick softness of your mouth, he’s having far too much fun to let himself finish just yet.

“Ah, stop, stop, stop.”

He steps back, pulling himself from your mouth and catching you under the chin. When you look up, his chest is heaving, and his blue eyes are dark and wild, a light sheen of sweat visible on his face. Running his index finger over your wet lips, he huffs when you suck his finger into your mouth, biting down to hold him in place.

“Come here,” he mutters, bending to lift you up, setting you on the edge of the table and chuckling when you squeak at the feel of the cold wood on your skin. Nudging your legs open, he steps between then and rubs his cock against your slick folds, covering his skin in your cum. Fingers reaching to tangle in his hair, you pull his face to yours, giving his bottom lip a sharp nip when he tries to pull back.

“Someone’s impatient,” he teases playfully. Pushing you gently back onto the green felt of the table, he pauses to admire his view, your breasts still wet from his mouth, your legs spread wide. Giving a low growl at the sight, he hooks your legs over his forearms and with a hard thrust, sinks himself into you.

“Oh god,” he breathes, resting his forehead against your knee. “Just – hang on, just give me a sec.”

Reaching to comb your fingers through his hair, he turns to press a quick kiss to your kneecap, before giving you a wicked grin. “Okay, yeah I’m good. Let’s go back to the last thing from our lesson? When we were focusing on your stroke.”

He pulls out, and very slowly pushes back in.

“Remember how important your stroke is, how it needs to be perfectly smooth.”

Again, he pulls out, lazily pushing back into you.

“Always make sure you take a few practice strokes.”

Slowly out, slowly in.

“Before you hit the balls.”

With a hard snap, he fucks into you, and your back arches with a groan when you feel his balls slap against your ass.

“Slow is good, I can feel everything. I like slow.” He whispers the words, sliding a hand up your chest, his calloused palm rubbing your nipples.

He’s driving you insane, you can feel the heavy ache growing, but it sits there, just out of reach. 

“Harder, Bucky, harder.” He smiles happily when you use his word, tilting your hips up and pounding into you, going even deeper in your cunt. The way he grunts with every thrust makes your skin sizzle, the desire pooling in your belly. You love the depth, the way his cock hits every last nerve ending inside you, but it’s still too slow, you need him to move faster.

And in a flash, there it is, the most obvious way to ask.  

“Hustle Bucky.” His rhythm stutters, mouth falling open in shock at the word, and when he starts laughing, you can’t help but giggle.

Pulling you up so your body is flush against his chest, you lock your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist to hold him in place. Bucky presses a soft kiss to your forehead before he begins to drive into you, the base of his cock grinding just right against your clit with every harsh thrust. The sound of his rough moans are music to your ears, and when he slides those cool metal fingers between you to stroke your clit, it only takes a few minutes and you’re shouting as you fall over the edge.

Bucky buries his face in your neck when he feels you lose control, your cunt gripping him so damn tight, and with a last fierce snap of his hips, he spills himself inside you, your stuttered name falling from his lips again and again.

Entwined together, you feel his heartbeat thumping against yours, as you both try to come back down.

Keeping you tight against his chest, your legs securely around his waist, Bucky palms the back of your head, holding you in place as he gazes down. Stretching to press your lips to his, he responds eagerly, with a warm, leisurely kiss.

Breaking away, you sigh blissfully and snuggle back into his strong arms, before whispering his name.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“I want a fucking rematch.”

TAGS: @buckyappreciationsociety @stentorian-lore-n @psingh97 @ihavemymomentsstill @badassbaker @justreadingfics @palaiasaurus64 @4theluvofall @interestedbystanderwrites 

#bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut

[pumpkinpetals]

Beauty Is Found Within

Chapter Twelve

Beauty & the Beast Malec AU

Summary: Simply the end to their long day.

Quote: “What will you do when I’m back at the Institute?”

Magnus flopped, face down, onto his bed and crawled up until he found a pillow to wrap his arms around.

“You’ll just have to come back every day.”

Warnings: None, my buttercups <3

Read on AO3 here.

Thank you for reading!!

After dinner, Magnus refused to let Alec wash the dishes. According to the Warlock, it was because Alec was a guest but the Shadowhunter suspected that Magnus just wanted to keep holding hands.

After they had both finished their meals and were sipping their respective drinks (a fancy cocktail for Magnus and a simple glass of water for Alec) Magnus had slowly inched his hand out across the table until his fingertips were flush with Alec’s. They had sat and talked about their favourite kinds of foods for what felt like an age and gradually, their hands had entwined themselves together. The steady warmth of Magnus’ skin was something new and unfamiliar to Alec but he would have been lying to himself if he said he didn’t like it.

The conversation slowly moved to from food to friends and Magnus made an obscure reference to a movie Alec had never heard of – something to do with talking fish going missing. Magnus rambled on about his three closest friends, Caterina and Ragnor – both Warlocks – and Raphael, the leader of the New York Vampire clan. Alec had heard of Raphael from Izzy but because of his parent’s strict rules, he had never been allowed to meet anyone from the Downworld.

Just as the sky began to turn orange from the setting sun, Alec pulled his hand from Magnus’ grasp.

“Okay, I’ll clean this up and then-”

“Absolutely not.” Magnus interrupted, standing up with a twirl of his hands. The plates vanished from the table and appeared with a damp sheen beside the sink on the draining board. The colour drained from Magnus’ face and he leaned forwards, resting his hands on the table heavily.

“Magnus!” Alec exclaimed and he rushed round to where the other man was standing. “Why did you do that?” Alec helped Magnus into his chair and then crouched down beside him. Magnus rolled his head around so that his was looking at Alec, a lazy smile on his face and his cat-eyes dark.

“Couldn’t let you wash up, my darling guest.”

Alec rolled his eyes and stood up, carefully taking a hold of Magnus’ arm as he did so.

“Come on, you need to sleep.” Alec pulled Magnus to his feet and the Warlock giggled into Alec’s chest.

“You’re nice.” Magnus purred as Alec led him through the apartment.

“Mmm,” Alec said while nudging Magnus’ bedroom door open with his foot, “I can’t be putting you to bed like this every night though. What will you do when I’m back at the Institute?”

Magnus flopped, face down, onto his bed and crawled up until he found a pillow to wrap his arms around.

“You’ll just have to come back every day.” He sighed, lifting his hips slightly and messing with the front of his trousers for a moment before pulling his belt off and throwing it to the side. As Magnus began to push his trousers down, Alec’s back straightened and he backed away to the door.

“Well, goodnight.” Alec said.

“No! Wait.” Magnus rolled over, kicking off his shoes and then letting his trousers fall onto the floor. “Don’t leave yet.”

Magnus’ blue boxer-briefs were very bright against his dark sheets and Alec struggled to keep his eyes away from them.

“As much as I like you, Magnus,” Alec managed to say without letting his voice crack, “I’m not sleeping on that chair again.”

With his eyes still closed, Magnus gestured wildly to the large empty space beside him.

“Plenty of room right here darling.” His words were slurred slightly and if Alec didn’t know better, he would have said that the Warlock was drunk.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Alec’s voice was uneven but he lingered in the doorway of Magnus’ room.

“’s not like we’re gonna get down and dirty. ‘m too tired for that.” Magnus laughed to himself and Alec rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I don’t have any pyjamas.”

Magnus pointed sleepily towards a dark wooden chest of drawers and a limp sputter of sparks fell from his fingers. The middle drawer opened, revealing several rolls of soft looking clothing.

“There you go.” Magnus murmured into his pillow. Thankfully, the Warlock had left his t-shirt on and Alec wasn’t surprised to find that the blue pattern matched his underwear.

“But-”

“Shush. Sleep.” And with that, Magnus shimmied underneath the covers and laid with his back to Alec.

Unable to think of any more excuses that wouldn’t offend Magnus, even in his half-conscious state, Alec moved to the open drawer and pulled out several items until he found something he thought would fit. Because Magnus was facing away from him, Alec felt slightly less self-conscious about getting changed in the same room. He pulled his t-shirt off quickly and replaced it with a dark tank-top. He also swapped his sweatpants for a pair of pyjama-shorts.

It was only as Alec caught his reflection in the mirror beside Magnus’ bed that he remembered he had not checked on Izzy for a while.

“Magnus.” Alec whispered but the Warlock only groaned a little.

Alec decided that he wouldn’t be able to sleep unless he looked to see how his sister was and so he carefully left Magnus room and went into his bedroom where he had left the mirror Magnus had enchanted.

Alec picked up the mirror from the dresser and then sat back on his bed and whispered,

“Isabelle Lightwood.” The surface of the mirror melted away until Alec’s sister was in focus.

Isabelle was pacing around one of the control rooms, running her hands through her hair like she always did when she was stressed.

“What do you mean ‘Magnus Bane has never done anything wrong’? Everyone’s done something.” Raj stood up from behind his monitor and folded his arms.

“Well,” He began, “if you tell me what he’s done to you I might be able to dig something up.”

Isabelle scowled at Raj.

“He hasn’t done anything to me. Forget I said anything.” And with that, she stalked out of the room, leaving Raj to sink back into his chair with a determined expression on his face.

Alec’s own reflection suddenly stared back at him and he frowned. If Izzy was asking questions about Magnus, it wasn’t going to take long before their parents heard about it.

“Robert Lightwood.”

Robert was sitting at his desk in his study at the manor in Idris. Maryse was walking around the room in the same way Isabelle did.

“What are we going to do? No one will take Isabelle seriously as bride. At least some people didn’t believe the terrible rumours about Alexander.”

Robert somehow managed to look down his nose at Maryse, despite being seated, and he sighed heavily.

“Do you honestly believe that anyone would have happily agreed for their daughter to marry that boy? His reputation has been soiled for years.”

Maryse shook her head.

“I know for a fact that the Branwell’s have been having the same problem with their daughter, Lydia. Only her exploits haven’t become quite so public.”

This caught Roberts attention for a brief moment before his looked back down to the papers on his desk.

“Well, it doesn’t matter all that much now. There are quite a few possible matches for Isabelle. It seems that many find her face a higher quality than her reputation.”

Alec dragged his eyes away from the mirror and placed it on his bedside table, a little more harshly than he intended. At least their parents hadn’t figured out what Izzy was doing. He would have to find a way to stop her tomorrow.

Alec’s eyes were falling shut when he heard a creak in the hallway. He was alert for the possibility of an attack for the smallest of seconds before Magnus’ sleepy face appeared in his doorway. Alec sat up, worried that something was wrong.

“Magnus! You should be in bed.”

The Warlock smiled as he padded over to the other side of Alec’s bed and crawled beneath the covers.

“I shouted for you but you didn’t hear me.”

“I was using the mirror to check on Izzy and my parents.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. I- what are you doing?” Magnus had rolled closer to Alec and was now trying to push him off the bed.

“You’re on the covers. You need to be under them.”

Alec swallowed the lump in his throat and maneuvered himself so that the covers were on top of his legs.

“Lay down and sleep.” Magnus hummed and a blue spark of magic danced from the tip of the Warlock’s forefinger and up to the overhead light. The room was suddenly bathed in darkness and Alec felt a lot better about sharing a bed with Magnus. Carefully, while trying not to touch Magnus, Alec inched himself down the bed until his head was flat against the pillow. He was laying on his back, but he found it comfortable and he was just beginning to feel his heart slow when Magnus moved.

The Warlock unashamedly wrapped one of his legs around one of Alec’s and draped his arm over the Shadowhunter’s stomach. He also rested his head just beside Alec’s shoulder and Alec could feel Magnus’ breath dancing over his skin.

Alec repositioned his arm so that it was just above the one Magnus had wrapped around him and he was surprised to find that he didn’t feel uncomfortable. One quick glance down to Magnus’ face confirmed that the Warlock was drifting off to sleep and Alec felt more comfortable in the fact that Magnus wasn’t staring at him. In fact, Alec realised, he didn’t feel bad at all. There was a strange warmth in the pit of his stomach and deep in his chest but, as Alec closed his eyes and imagined what the next day would hold, the Nephilim realised that he was happy. Simply full of joy.

Thank you for reading!!

@juniorshadowhunter

#malec #magnus bane/alec lightwood #Magnus Bane x Alec Lightwood #beauty and the beast #Magnus Bane #MAGNUS BANE DESERVES NICE THINGS #Alec Lightwood #batb #shadowhunters #au #batb au

[harbourstarwilling-blog]

The Marauders and the Hollow Hill - Of Catherine Wheels and Cauldron Cakes

An unfamiliar, tickly sort of rush ran through James as he dashed forwards. He was nervous, true. Who wouldn't be? He was sprinting full-speed towards a very solid-looking brick barrier. But his parents were behind him; he could hear their heavy footfalls, jogging at a slower pace. If he was going to crash violently into the barrier, at least he wouldn't be heading to the hospital alone.

Magic was an odd thing. It was truly a wonder, such a thing practically dangling on the edge of non-existence. Not everyone had magic. It wasn't exactly common, but seemed common enough...

James frowned. All this thinking made his head hurt.

The important thing was: he had magic. His parents had magic. His future friends and professors would have magic.

I love magic! James thought delightedly. Just seconds before he reached the barrier, he let out an exhilarated whoop and picked up speed. He knew deep down that the magic would kick in.

And he was right. Passing through the barrier was easy; it was as if he had simply stepped through a porthole into another world.

Indeed he could have. Platform nine and three-quarters seemed like an entirely different universe. The drab Muggle train station was so... well, boring compared to the pure excitement and bustle in this magical place. Everywhere, there were people, all witches and wizards, all crowded together on the platform, some trying to board the train, some attempting to leave it, some forced the crowd to part so they could walk through (there weren't many of these), while others simply wandered around aimlessly in circles, quite lost and unsure of what they were doing there.

James resisted the urge to laugh. It reminded him vaguely of a large school of fish, all trying the head different ways, but giving up eventually and just going along with the tide.

Something small and warty hopped near his foot, and he drew back quickly. A toad. Now that he thought about it, James realized that animals occupied at least half the platform. Rats scuttled by, the hairless tails whipping around in the air behind them. Bandy-legged cats, of all shapes and sizes, howled and meowed in their cages, scratching the metal bars with their claws, their bright eyes following the skitter rats hungrily. And the owls. Great-horned, moon-faced, snowy, speckled... absolutely everywhere. Nestled in cages, beaks under their wings; resting comfortably, perched on their owner's shoulder, or soaring overhead, hooting and screeching and shedding feathers and droppings. There was quite a racket.

James felt himself grin. He thought it was brilliant. He wondered if he could get away with dropping dung on someone's head.

His thoughts were interrupted by a very loud, very long whistle that obviously emitted from the giant red and gold steam engine that rested impatiently by the platform, almost like a restless cat, ready to spring and pouch on its prey. A middle-aged, portly man with dark hair and a darker cap (who James guessed was the conductor) patrolled the station, pointing at his watch and shouting something James couldn't hear. His father, however, could. James felt him squeeze his shoulder.

"It's leaving." James could barely hear him murmur. "Come on, you'd better get on."

Gently, he guided James towards the train, towing his belted trunk behind him. In it contained everything James would need: extra clothes, socks, shoes, underwear, snacks, his schoolbooks, extra parchment and ink, photos of his parents if he got lonely...

"I still don't see why I can't have an owl," James complained as they neared the train's boarding doors.

His father grinned slightly. "If you pass first year..." he said, with an air of sarcasm. "... with no detentions. Then, perhaps."

James pouted. "Please?"

His father's grin widened as he ruffled James's hair. "We'll see."

James's mother pushed through the crowd, finally reaching her son and husband. "Have you got everything?" she panted breathlessly. "Your books, your robes?"

"I seem to have forgotten my owl," James replied calmly. His father groaned and nudged James forward, who just grinned and began ascending the steps to board the train.

"Wait!" his mother shouted suddenly, rushing forwards. Hastily, she crouched down and planted a kiss between James's eyebrows. "Good luck, my darling," she whispered. James felt himself smile.

Whheeeeee! The whistle blew again, louder this time, following by a series of ringing bells. Smoke began to pour from the smokestacks; the conductor was shutting the doors of the passenger cars.

"Goodbye, son," his father said, almost proudly, and extended his hand. James took it, smiling broadly and he shook it. It made him feel like a grown up.

Then he wasted no time. He clambered aboard the Hogwarts Express, grunting as he towed his trunk in behind him. And just in time. The conductor had arrived at the door of his passenger car; with a bang, he slid it shut, locked it, and moved on. For a moment, the train remained stationary. James watched his parents embrace each other, kiss, and stare at James silently through the glass windows. James stared back, equally silent.

There was an abrupt clanging noise, then a sound like a gun going off. Almost immediately, smoke and sparks covered the whole exterior of the train from view. But James could hear metal starting to grind against metal, levers clanking, pistons pumping-

Another whistle. The train lurched forward, none too gently, and began to move. James's eye twitched. He still couldn't glimpse his parents through the thick haze of smoke. Desperately, he lunged forwards, pressing his face against the window, straining to see. He wasn't the only one. A few others had glued their noses to the glass as well; one boy had quite literally face-planted it.

Thankfully, the witches and wizards still on the platform had made way for the parents and guardians of those who had boarded the train; they knew that September the first was a very busy day for most. The start-of-term. The day they would board the train. The day anxious parents would crowd the station, searching for suitcases and spellbooks and lost wands.

Now, all the witches and wizards on the platform stood, waving cheerily, wishing good luck, to every single one of them. One energetic little wizard decided to actually set off fireworks - brilliant burning gold fire, silver sparkling lights and shocking ruby Catherine Wheels. Just as the train was rounding the bend, James saw that the fireworks drew all together in the cloudless sky, merging to form a shimmering black "H."

H. Hogwarts.

James grinned. For some reason, he felt special.

Clumsily, James stumbled through the cramped passageway, dragging his large over-stuffed suitcase and trunk. Why had his mother insisted that he practically take his entire room with him? Oh, well. At least he wouldn't get homesick.

James scoffed to himself. Homesick, him? What a laugh! He was on his way to Hogwarts! The best school in the world, his father had said. Just wait. It's just brilliant. The Great Hall, the dormitories, Hogsmeade, even the classes… it's all worth the wait. Trust me. James could already feel his heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. He didn't want to wait! He wanted to be there now!

"'Scuse me," he grumbled, squeezing past a tiny blonde girl with a thing that looked like a fluffy pink marshmallow on her shoulder. The girl rolled her eyes. The pink creature made a soft growly noise, then continued purring vibrating softly near her chin. James carefully edged past.

Silently, he scanned each compartment as he passed, still pulling his remarkably heavy luggage. Each carriage was filled, practically to the brim, with students. All from Hogwarts. However, they could've passed as normal, ordinary kids, as they were dressed in their Muggle attire. But several of them were brandishing their wands, performing small acts of magic: making their shoelaces dance and turning their friends' hair bright yellow. In fact, most of the compartments were littered with colourful bits of paper. Sweets, James realized. The witch with the trolley must've been there; he had scrambled past her in the train corridor (she had tripped over his suitcase). Chocolate Frogs, Sugar Quills, Licorice Wands… the trolley had it all. Sweets and treats, beyond your wildest dreams.

His stomach growled loudly, not unlike an angry dog, and he looked down at it with surprise. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was. Thoughtfully, James pondered his options. He had money; a great sack of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts right there in his pocket, in fact. He'd need to find a carriage first, though. There he could relax, tell some cool jokes, throw around a little money, impress the girls. Like always.

James laughed a bit to himself. The people lounging in the compartment he was passing gave him a look; he flushed furiously with embarrassment and moved on.

Grunting, James towed his trunk towards the next compartment. Was it getting heavier? It certainly seemed so. After a few more seconds of straining and tugging, he eventually gave up. Then he had a second theory: what if he pushed it instead of pulling it? But that idea failed as well. He pushed and shoved with all his might. It wouldn't budge. It was like it had been glued to the floor.

James stared at the trunk in disbelief. "How is this possible?" he wondered aloud. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a couple slender girls (he guessed sixth-years) passing him on his right. Thinking fast, he raised his voice a little. "How is this possible?" he practically yelled. "I mean, I worked so hard this summer on my upper body strength! I could almost lift my entire house!"

One of the girls giggled. The other girl, a sullen-faced blonde, just rolled her eyes and yanked her friend back into their compartment; James grinned winningly and waved.

Then someone spoke behind him, so suddenly James tripped over his own trunk and onto the carriage floor. "Wow. Flirt much?" the person chuckled sarcastically, clearly unimpressed.

James groaned as the glasses slipped off his nose. The person standing above him was all blurry, no more than a dimly-colored blotch, like someone had spilled paint on an already-destroyed canvass.

Nonetheless, James did his best to recover. "What's it to you?" he said confidently, seizing his glasses and slamming them back onto his face, almost snapping them in half. He watched as the person slowly came into focus - a boy about his age, maybe a little older. Long dark hair, tan skin, and a cheeky grin that stretched right up to his liquid-brown eyes. The boy shrugged; his smirk didn't fade.

"Oh, nothing. It's just… well." Now the boy's grin wilted a bit. "Bad luck, mate. Both of those girls are already seeing someone."

"Oh, yeah?" James muttered, slowly getting to his feet. Something like hot fire was growing in his stomach - it took him a while to realize that it was the wrenching pull in his gut that he felt entirely too often - competition. He growled at the boy. "How do you know?"

The boy frowned, obviously disliking James's attitude. "They're my cousins." He sounded so bold it made James jealous.

"Oh?" James felt sick. He didn't like this boy. "Sucks for you, then."

"Who are you, anyways?" The boy snapped back. "Nothing you say makes sense!"

James found himself shouting now; he didn't know why. The hot fire that was competition had grown in his stomach, roaring to life like a full-grown lion. He advanced, and leaned in towards the boy, almost spitting right in his face. "I'm James Potter, and I'm better than your sorry ass!" he screamed.

To James's severe disappointment, the boy wasn't even fazed. "My ass is wonderful, thanks very much," the boy replied coolly. "Although I must congratulate you, that was quite a good speech you said there."

James frowned. "Huh?"

"'I'm James Potter, and I'm better than your sorry ass!'" the boy mimed squeakily, waving his hands around his head in mock imitation of James. "Quite good. But my comeback was better."

The lion was shrinking now, quickly being replaced by awe and utter confusion. James swallowed; he felt his cheeks redden. Had he really acted so rambunctiously? "Yeah…" he murmured embarrassedly.

The boy's frown deepened for a moment, then took a few steps back, examining James from head to toe. "What did you say your name was?" he asked. James frowned right back at him.

"James," he responded, adjusting his glasses on his nose. "And you are?"

"Sirius."

James raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

The boy glanced up at him, startled. "What?"

"What are you serious about?" James questioned, perturbed. Was the boy pulling a prank? If so, he really was very good. He looked genuinely confused.

"Serious about… oh, wait." The boy scratched his head. "This happens a lot. Sirius. It's my name. S-I-R-I-U-S. It's a family name."

The boy looked mildly humiliated as he grinned.

Sirius. What kind of name was that? James had absolutely no idea. He had never heard anything like it before.

Countryside rolled by. James could see it through the windows. For several seconds, the two boys just stood there, smiling awkwardly at each other. What time was it? James didn't know. It seemed awfully late; he should've found a compartment by now. Instead, he had collided - rather randomly, he might add - with this strange boy, who, James realized, seemed oddly like him...

Furtively, James scanned the boy - Sirius. Long, chocolate-brown hair that almost reached his shoulders, quite well kept, unlike James's, which stuck up in the back no matter what James or his mother tried. Strong jawline, straight nose, very white, even teeth. Dark eyes - the same color as his hair. Tan skin.

But not as dark as mine, James thought proudly. But Sirius wore nicer clothes than James did - even James thought so. Black dress shoes, black suit pants, and a wrinkled white Oxford shirt, recently untucked. James could tell. He had experience.

Still, he made James feel very underdressed in just jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt.

It's a nice T-shirt, his brain argued.

Finally, Sirius spoke up. "What're you doing in the middle of the hall anyways?" Then he rolled his eyes. "Did you fall over on purpose, trying to get Narcissa and Andromeda to notice you?"

"Who?"

"My cousins. You were making googly eyes at them earlier."

"No, I wasn't," James replied stubbornly. "My trunk is too damn heavy, and I can't find a damn compartment because they're all too damn full."

Sirius's leg shot out as he aimed a powerful kick at the trunk lying there; it didn't move. "Damn right," Sirius muttered, rubbing his sore toe. He scratched his head again.

"BOYS!" Someone behind James scolded. Once more, James tumbled over his trunk in surprise, then groaned, seeing the witch with the trolley standing there. Abruptly, Sirius burst out laughing as James struggled to his feet, swearing angrily.

"Boys, really!" sputtered the witch, shaking a long, gnarled finger at them. "Using language like that - here, on the train! Why, I ought to report you-"

"Excuse me!" A dreamy, yet quite urgent voice interrupted her. James turned. His jaw dropped. An extremely pretty girl had poked her head out of the nearest compartment - the girl who had giggled at James earlier. His heart fluttered when he saw her, despite the fact that she was well older than he was. Still... her features were so soft. Straight brown hair and big brown eyes that drank in everything they saw. Full red lips pulled up in a gentle grin.

"Excuse me," she said again, this time sticking her hand out into the corridor. In her fist she clutched a few golden coins. Galleons. "Could I have a few dozen Cauldron Cakes, please?" She flashed a hopeful smile at the witch with the trolley. "Cissy just can't get enough of them."

The witch was happy to oblige; James and Sirius did their best to appear as preoccupied as possible: brushing at their clothes, bending down, pretending to tie their shoes (Sirius's shoes didn't have any laces), and whistling as obnoxiously as they could. It felt like forever, but the witch finally disappeared, along with the trolley. The girl turned towards them, her arms positively stuffed with Cauldron Cakes.

"Take them, quickly!" she hissed.

"What?" James never passed up free pastries, but now he found himself hesitating. "They're yours!"

"I bought them for you two," she whispered loudly. With these words, she hefted the pile at them, and promptly vanished.

For a few moments, it was simply raining Cauldron Cakes. Then, it stopped, just as suddenly as it had began, and James and Sirius were left standing ankle-deep in pastries.

Sirius broke the silence. "Good old 'Dromeda," he murmured happily, picking up a cake and examining it from end to end. "Always there to get you out of a pinch."

James was speechless. The past events seemed to have gone by in a matter of minutes. "That your cousin?" he found himself inquiring, more curiously than he would have liked. He earned a knowing smirk from Sirius.

"Yep. She's my favourite. Rest are prats." With that, he stuffed a whole Cauldron Cake into his mouth and proceeded to shove the rest of them into James's suitcase. James opened his mouth to ask Sirius just what he meant by that, but he decided not to press him. Sirius was clearly attempting to avoid the matter.

It took them a while, but finally, they managed to stuff every single one of them into James's suitcase, now nearly bulging with treats.

"That's the lot!" Sirius shouted cheerfully; to James, it sounded like garbled nonsense (Sirius had shoved several pastries into his mouth, with the excuse, "Storing them for the winter!"). He couldn't understand a word he was saying.

"Let's go find a compartment," Sirius said suddenly, swallowing with difficulty. "There has to be an empty one somewhere."

James stared at Sirius in disbelief. "What about my trunk?" he complained. It was still sitting there in the middle of the corridor, along with his suitcase simply stuffed with Cauldron Cakes.

Sirius shrugged dismissively. "They'll pick it up one way or another - Hogwarts, I mean." With the air of finishing an important lecture, he peered carefully down the hall. James watched him, finding this all very hard to believe. Just moments before, he and Sirius had been spitting insults at each other. Now he wanted to find a compartment...! It was possible that Sirius was just trying to be friendly, but he didn't strike James as the "friendly" type. More of the "clever, sadistic, sarcastic" type, with just a hint of pride. Well, more than a hint.

James felt himself grin on the inside. Just like him.

James struggled to find something to say. "But... haven't you already got a compartment?"

Sirius rolled his eyes in reply. "Uh, yeah." He thrust a thumb at the carriage behind him; James could see several dark-haired sitting in there, all with the same snooty expressions on their faces. The only one even slightly smiling was the one who had given them the sweets - Andromeda. She waved gaily at them through the window.

"I'd rather sit with you, though," Sirius grumbled resentfully, running a hand through his silky brown hair.

"At least you know how to laugh."

James smiled rather weakly. He didn't know what to say. The way Sirius spoke suggested that he didn't like his family very much - or maybe, perhaps... his family didn't like him. James took another glance at the people in the nearest compartment. Andromeda was now trying to engage Narcissa and the rest of her companions in a seemingly entertaining conversation, but they weren't amused. In fact, most of them were practically ignoring here, gazing out the windows of the carriage and pretending she wasn't there. James watched as her face fell, and he felt a tugging pang in his stomach. He didn't know what it was like to have a family like that - he wouldn't know. As far as he knew, James's mother and father loved him with all their hearts. They gave him anything he wanted (most of the time) and gave the attention that he desired (all of the time). He wondered about Sirius's family, whether or not they loved him, gave him things he would like for Christmas, or provided him with the attention that he obviously needed. Judging by the look on Sirius's face, he doubted it.

James's mind raced. "Okay!" He said this in a purposely squeaky, cheery voice. He held up his arm like he and Sirius were supposed to go walk down the aisle. "Let's go."

Sirius stared at James like he was crazy, but a twinkle in his eye suggested otherwise. "You're weird, mate," he muttered, grinning slightly.

James took this as his cue; he began to skip in frantic little circles around Sirius, still offering him his arm. "I know," he said, now hopping on one leg around Sirius. "My mum says that a lot."

Sirius frowned, or at least, he tried to. "Well then, she's right."

"Says you, pretty boy."

Sirius took up a tone that suggested mock surprise. His hand leapt up towards his mouth as he let out a huge gasp. "James Potter!" Sirius managed to fan himself with his hand and flip his hair simultaneously. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Were you expecting-" But James couldn't take much more, he could barely contain giggles, what with Sirius flipping his hair and fanning himself like some expensive lady - James burst out laughing. Sirius did too. They very nearly fell over each other, screaming with mirth. Out of the corner of his eye, James saw one of the blonde girls in Andromeda's compartment - Narcissa, he remembered - give them a disgusted look. But James couldn't have cared less. And he could tell that Sirius felt the same way.

"Oh, James!" Sirius simpered, still managing to stay in the act. He batted his eyelashes and attempted to constrain violent bouts of laughter.

James chortled in reply, then choked, causing his glasses to slide halfway down his nose. Smirking, Sirius reached over and flicked James's glasses right off his face.

"Hey!" James protested, still chuckling. But Sirius held them out of reach, now getting to his feet, still chuckling. "Come on, give 'em back," James whimpered. Without his glasses, he was staring up at a white and black coloured blur standing above him.

Sirius laughed. "Gotta catch me first, Jamsie." And with that, he took off, faster than James had thought he would. He ran, screaming as loudly as he could, still clutching James's glasses in his fist. He knocked passengers and paraphernalia aside, trying to block James's path. James grinned widely, pushing himself to his feet.

"You asked for it," he murmured, dashing after Sirius. But with slightly less grace; he slammed into the passengers and fell over the paraphernalia as he went.

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