he was feeling light headed so i will give him some light head

Pairing: Dean/Cas
Length: 2.5k
Tags: Fluff, Mild Angst, Pining, First Kiss, Canon Divergent
 
Read on AO3

A special thank you to @braezenkitty for being my awesome beta <3

“You just gotta get laid,” Dean said, reseating the burger beside the pile of fries on his plate, this time with a big bite missing. “Or a decent kiss, at least.”

He crumbled a napkin between greasy fingers, tossed it to the middle of the table. Shoved his shirtsleeves up one more time as he tucked his black fed tie under the table ledge and away from the plate. “It’d loosen you up, buddy. And maybe you’d quit tryna live vicariously through horny eighteen-year-olds.”

This was because of the door-to-door canvas. The couple at the park who’d been all over each other, that Castiel hadn’t been able to stop looking at—even after the old, blue-haired lady at 512 Bakersfield Court had made a comment. “Your partner likes to stare…” like she’d never in her seventy-five years of life seen someone curious about such a thing.

If only that was the first time I heard it, too,” Dean’d smiled back from her stoop, the sharp sun cooking them both in the stuffy Tennessee heat. A marked jab to Cas’ ribs, and a walk to the nearest pub later, and Dean was bringing it up again, because, of course he was. Why talk about the case?

“I only glanced at the couple in the park,” Cas sighed. “It’s not a recurring issue. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Dean laughed, lipped his beer bottle, and took a stout drink. “Sure,” he said. “Glanced at them. Glanced at those girls holding hands last week—though, I’ll give ya that one. I gave ‘em a couple once-overs too.”

“Dean—”

“Point is, it ain’t the first time, and you’re a damn liar.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “My being, or not being with people has nothing to do with anything—”

“Has everything to do with everything when you’re touch-starved.”

“I’m not starved. I’ve been… touched.”

Dean scoffed, swirled his beer bottle. “Sure, if you wanna count Reaper-Fools-Day.”

“I’ve kissed more people than April,” Cas bristled back. “How about we talk about what you know of touch starved instead?”

Dean snapped shut, cocked his head as a follow-up comment seemed to slip from his mouth quick. He replaced the words with a couple fries and averted eyes. “Fine,” he relented around the bite. “And?”

“And… What?”

He looked back up, eyebrows jumping. “Were they any good?”

“Who? The people?”

“The kissing, idiot. Was the kissing any good?”

Cas’ heart flopped. He slipped a hand down his beer bottle, and then back up again nervously. The motion pulled Dean’s attention in a glance, so Cas tucked the rogue thing back onto his lap instead. Fingers lacing together under the shelter of the slick waxed top where no one could see. “I don’t know. Yes?” he offered carefully.

“Are you tellin’ me, or askin’ me right now?”

“No—I mean… ” Cas cleared his throat, shifted in his chair, and listened to the wood slats groan. “They were fine. They were… wet.”

“Wet?” Dean repeated. “Cas, wet is how you describe a swimming pool… Oregon in the winter, maybe… Not a kiss. Never a good kiss.”

“Then how should I describe it?”

“No, I mean… if they were wet, then they were wet—”

“No, please. You tell me.”

Dean’s face suddenly fell wide in mock innocence. “What? You want me to describe a good kiss to you right now? In the middle of a restaurant.”

“If wet is insufficient—”

“Oh, yeah. It’s like, miles of not-sufficient-ness, dude.”

Cas chewed a smile down and gestured Dean’s way. Crossed his arms, and sat back. He watched Dean waffle before finally sliding back in his chair to think. He splayed wide, elbows up on the armrests and knees hugging the corners. His face caught the dim overhead lights, and the sun-kissed healthy pink of his skin shone back like warm earth.

He had white in the creases beside his eyes where his smile lines had shaded him from the harsh afternoon sun. A little cut of tan at the bridge of his nose where his sunglasses sat after he’d gotten sick of squinting through the reflections of every bright midday door.

“Okay, it’s like this,” he said finally, tapping an erratic finger on the neck of his bottle, and pausing to worry his lip. “A kiss is a kiss is a kiss, til it ain’t. If you’re with the right person, then the tension between you’s gonna be thick enough to cut. It’s gonna feel like you’ve got a firecracker in your gut, and that other person’s just flicking the Bic. The minute the two of you kiss, the fuse lights. That bastard explosive rips up through your chest, and pops behind your eyes, and I’m talking—screw seeing colors at that point—you’ll be so wrecked, you’ll know what they sound like.

Castiel smiled as Dean came back in with a languid look, and a tongue tip between his teeth. He peeled forward, hovering over the table, so much closer than before, that there was only the dragging smell of his burger all tangled up in his woody cologne for Cas to breathe.

“That’s a good kiss,” he said slowly, and maybe it was Castiel’s imagination, but the sun kiss on Dean’s cheeks had spread to his ears now. “Sounds good, don’t it?”

“It sounds very good,” Castiel agreed. “Very surreal.”

Dean let a long, animated sigh into the room and it mixed happy with the gentle murmur of the busy forks and glasses around them. “Oh, it’s very real,” he said. “Just not very common.”

He poked absently at the pile of cooling fries, and sucked the salt from the end of his finger. The gorgeous smacking sound it made curled red ribbons in Cas’ stomach. “Still, you find someone who’ll give you that, and it’s the kinda thing that’ll right some wrongs. Know what I mean?”

Cas took a long drink, smile falling as the carbonation from his beer prickled reality back into his tongue. “Sure,” he said quietly. “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Dean’s mouth thinned, and his eyes ping-ponged away uneasy. He tailed and tacked down the waitress, kept locked on her as she floated behind the counter poking something into the mounted LED screen beside the register. “Doesn’t that rub you, though?” he asked, “not knowing for yourself. Don’t you… want that with somebody?”

Cas puffed surprised, and his mouth went dry. Try as he might, the beer wouldn’t wet it. “I mean, yes…” he said earnestly, and the admission ate holes in his stomach.

“Then… how come you ignore all the waitresses I send your way? You’re never gonna get it if you don’t even try.”

Cas was suddenly, and shamefully aware of his attention at Dean’s lips, and when Dean snagged a glance at him, Cas tore his eyes away, shoved them onto the table instead. Focused everything he had on the bleed of condensation below the cool, brown bottle to his left.

“Those people wouldn’t change anything,” he said to the ring. “Colors were never meant to make sounds for some.”

Dean fidgeted the fries again, finally pushed them aside, and brushed the salt off his hand this time instead of eating it. “I guess we better head out,” he said, flagging the waitress. “Sam’s waiting.”


They paid, and headed back out into the melty summer heat. It was sunset, but the air was still laying in the city thick as a wool blanket. Shadows stretched through the streets like plastic-capped Halloween fingers, crowding up in the alleyways and turns, painting the dingy brick walls black.

Cas flared his coat to check his back pocket for his wallet as they passed a couple people with hungry eyes, but just as quickly remembered that he’d dropped his last twenty for the meal, and let the impulse to feed them drift out. Still, he welcomed the brief breeze it gave him, and he wondered if maybe it was getting time to rethink the coat. Grace or not, he seemed to be touchier to the temperatures these days, and it was starting to seem like wardrobe was becoming more important—practically speaking.

Dean shed his own suit coat as if he’d just read Castiel’s mind, and slung it over his shoulder with a hooked finger. His shirtsleeves were still shoved up to his elbows under the blazer, as if he’d put it on after dinner, distracted. “Nothing fancy,” he murmured to his feet.

“Pardon?”

“Hmm—?” He looked over quick, eyes wide, before blinking them back down. “What?”

“I just didn’t catch what you said.”

Dean shook his head. “I didn’t—” But when Cas frowned, opened his mouth to contest, Dean relented. “Oh, you mean the, uh, thing I said out loud…” He cleared his throat, added “apparently” under his breath, and slowed down for some oncoming foot traffic.

“I was just thinking about the, uh, Nichols’ story,” he said, temporarily falling in line behind Cas as a group of people passed. He touched the small of Cas’ back out of nowhere, and kept his hand there. Cas’ chest snagged. “The alibi Brent was peddling didn’t feel right.” His voice was soft in Cas’ ear, almost breathy—but brief, and when he pulled up beside Cas again, sidewalk clear, Cas grabbed a shaky glance, but Dean wasn’t watching.

“You, uh, think they have something to do with the black magic we’re seeing?” Cas asked, and his voice managed to pour out level, despite his stomach coming off that quick rollercoaster dip.

“I mean, the house was a little much for a twenty-hour a week gas-slinging gig at the local area Gas n’ Sip, don’t you think?”

It was the most they’d talked about the case all day.

“Fancy,” Cas reiterated, then, “I certainly never would’ve been able to afford that place when I worked there.” For some reason, the comment pulled Dean tight at the joints. “But I couldn’t even afford hourly motels.”

“Well… the hourlies charge more.”

Cas frowned again, started to ask why when Dean squirmed past it. “But, you’re right,” he said. “Doesn’t add up no matter how you flip the numbers.”

“So, do you suspect they’re the source of the black magic, or victims of it?”

They hopped down the curb, checking the way for traffic, and ended up on the grassy side of Spring Street, just down from their motel. Dean popped a piece of gum in his mouth, balled the wrapper, and stuck it back in his pocket instead of tossing it away.

“I suspect there’s something screwy going on,” he said, “and that’s as far as I’ve got.”

He plucked the gum from his mouth a moment later, and flicked it to the bushes, ran a hand down his face. “Sam’s doing backgrounds as we speak. Here’s hoping there’s a smoking gun in there somewhere. But, ‘til we get that, we’re pulling straws.”

The streetlamps kicked on, buzzing like fireflies in the thick night, the light falling on the street in goldweave strings as they hustled past a defunct sporting goods store—hollow bones brick and mortar now. No one missing what used to be inside.

Dean scanned the streets, watched another few strings of dusk foot traffic pass on the left while he chewed his cheeks.

“Did Sam find anything at the morgue?” Cas pressed, because the silence seemed oddly unnerving.

“No—I mean, uh, I don’t know. Haven’t talked to him.”

“I thought we were meeting him.”

Dean’s attention caught up in a little alcove at the end of the street and he gripped his jacket tighter, tucked his chin and let a heavy breath out. “We are,” he said quietly.

“Not at the morgue?”

“Um, no, he’s at the motel,” Dean said, and he sounded nervous. “Waiting to take us.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and we’ll find a hex bag, or—”

Dean suddenly shoved Cas’ sideways, off the street and into the alcove, shadows tangling up in the corners of it, all those long witch fingers bleeding to flat black. Castiel grunted, surprised. “What’re you—” and his throat went dry as Dean pushed him into the stuccoed brick backside of a closed Chinese restaurant, hands curling up on both sides of Cas’ jaw, but fingers combing a soft arc “—doing?”

“Nothin’, if you don’t want me to,” Dean whispered, conviction skippy at best. His body was hot against Cas. Heavy and hard. Nothing like April’s… Meg’s… Hannah’s…

The question—and it was a question—coiled in Cas’ belly like a fever dream, but an answer never had a chance of bubbling back out. Because a response would’ve been moot before it ever left his lips. Castiel’s pause was too long to be a no, and his fingers had already found their way to Dean’s waist. They were making note of the way his blue button down clung to his sides, like the tee underneath had been soaking in all that sudden, nervous heat since before they’d ever even left the bar.

And so, Dean brushed their lips together, not a hesitation so much as dipping a toe, and a rush of butterflies went right to Cas’ head without mercy. Cas whimpered without meaning to, and Dean landed the meat of the kiss, hands falling down Cas’ neck and dragging that unruly sensation through. His lips were soft and his cheeks, five o’clock gritty. He worked Cas’ mouth open with a roll of his jaw, and a flirty burst of mint graced Cas with the pass of Dean’s tongue.

Castiel melted into it, fingers curling around the back of Dean’s head as he tried desperately to get a handhold on something. Their hips rolled together. Cas stole himself a handful of Dean’s ass. Felt Dean hard against him as he moved against Cas’ thigh.

Dean’s breath went rocky, like he was fighting some kind of tightrope walk of heavy and thin, and the sound he made was dirty enough to sin. Castiel nosed him, combed fingers through his hair as Dean pulled back. His eyes fell hot on Cas’ mouth. The shadows ate the flush from his face, but not the burning heat of it.

“Now tell me again,” he whispered, voice licking at Cas ear and coming out like gravy. “Tell me again what a kiss feels like.”

Castiel huffed, tried to catch his running brain. He couldn’t help himself, hands still at Dean’s waist, he held him there. The both of them were hard, and neither of them were in a hurry to do anything about it. “I would say… green makes a helluva sound,” he whispered back.

He watched a wicked smile crawl through Dean’s face. “There it is,” Dean hummed, dragging a chill with his thumb from the skin he’d bared at Cas’ side, and chasing it to Cas’ neck with a soft breath, a kiss. “An’ I’m just getting started too.”

Then, he pulled away, the absence of his sticky heat leaving Cas bare. The gravel chewed under Dean’s heels as he headed for the street, pausing only to stoop for the jacket he’d shed at some point on the way. He shook it off, straightened his tie. “Let’s go! We’re late!”

Castiel swallowed, hand to his stomach, and peeled himself from the brick.

Locker Room*

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Rating: Explicit - 18+ only
Summary: There’s no real plot, maybe Reader wants to fool around in a locker room. Once again, this poor summary does not reflect my writing in general, I hope. Bear with me, please.
Word Count: 2.7k
Genre: NSFW/SMUT
Warnings: swearing, dirty talking, oral sex (both receiving), Chris being a butt guy [?], fingering and protected sex in a locker room, I guess.

Gifs used below aren’t mine, credit to the rightful owners.

    “Seriously Chris, why would you work out so late?” You whined, throwing your gym bag at the back of the car as you popped in, sitting next to him.

    “Listen, we both like this gym and this hour is the best time slot.” Your boyfriend huffed out a laugh, pecking your cheek and you buckled up the passenger seat belt.

    “There are other interesting ways to do exercises,” you wiggled your eyebrows, wandering your fingertips along his thigh and he rolled his eyes, starting the car. “If you do this to preserve your privacy then think about wearing something else than a cap. This became so obvious it’s Chris Evans hiding under.”

    “Always hilarious, Y/N,” he looked at the road, driving through Los  Angeles and you leaned your head against the seat, setting your running shoes on the dash. “You know it’s the job, I’m starting to film Infinity War in a couple of months now.”

    “Really, I had no idea… Captain Fucking Obvious.” Your eyes stared straight through the window as he glanced at you with his eyebrows furrowed, giving you his special look he used whenever you used sarcasm and a small laugh slipped through your lips.

    Once you’d finally reached the gym club opened at night, you both headed towards the different locker rooms and you got rid of your bag and jacket. You finally joined your boyfriend in the room - with some other people - and you saw him already working out as he focused on the upper part of his body.

    You smiled and as Chris sent you a wink, you tried to leave this glorious sight of him flexing his biceps, grunting lightly or tensing his back so much that you could’ve drawn the muscles through his T-shirt. You couldn’t help but internally gush over how very handsome he looked like this and how sexy his athletic outfit embraced all his muscles tightening then relaxing.

    Shaking your head slightly, you chose to concentrate the hard work on your legs for the night and you climbed on your favorite device, trying to forget the thoughts flying above your mind.

    Keep reading

    Morning Wood

                                      ‘Jung Hoseok loves your mouth’ 

    Featuring: Jhope/Hoseok (bts)
    Genre: Smut
    Word Count: 1.1k

    m.list

    | 2 |

    A/N: Sorry it took so long, I tried to finish this before my vacation but that obviously didn’t happen lol. Please enjoy!


    Jung Hoseok loves your mouth.

     A proven fact.

     He loves when your mouth opens wide as you try desperately to contain your laughter.

     He loves when your mouth connects with his in an intimate kiss. A kiss that steals his breath away and has him becoming light headed. Just a swipe of your tongue along his bottom lip has him singing hymns of your name.

     He loves how your mouth releases a string of profanities, whether it be from you screaming in his face or because his head is nestled between your legs.

     He loves your mouth covered in powdered sugar, lips upturned with a giddy smile as he wipes the residue from your lips with the pad of his thumb.

     He loves when your mouth juts out into a pout, whining his name when he isn’t compliant with your wishes. Or when you are lying in bed, breasts pressed up against his sturdy back, and lips just barely grazing the skin of his neck. Your steady breaths causing the tiny hairs on his neck to stand up.

     But the place he loves your mouth the most, is around his rigid cock.

     Hoseok is no stranger to the wonders of what an overactive imagination and a high libido can do. He’s found himself sporting a boner in the early mornings more times than he’d like to admit. It was never a problem when he was alone though, no. He’d gently rub himself through his boxers teasingly, just the way he liked. Not giving himself anymore friction until precum leaked through.

     With you in the bed, was a whole other issue. He always woke up before you and found it easiest to stealthily slip from your hold and into the bathroom. Hoseok took every precaution, leaving the sink running and making sure all of his emission made it into the toilet. He knows you’d have no problem helping him out, but he can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt whenever he entertains the idea of disturbing your slumber. So he’ll settle for his hand instead of your wet warm-

     Hoseok’s eyes flutter open at the dull heat bubbling up in his lower stomach. The first thing he sees is your small hand wrapped around his shaft, tongue generously licking around his swollen tip. The light filtering through the drapes hits you at an angle that makes you look celestial, causing him to groan at the sight.

     “Oh! You’re up.” You say, looking at him through your thick lashes. Like you didn’t have a handful of his cock in your hand. This made him growl lowly.

     You dip your tongue into his slit, garnering a positive reaction as he sucks in a breath, gripping the sheets. You love how easy it is to get Hoseok riled up. Just a mere swipe of the tongue had his breath becoming ragged. His hips were bucking up into your fist needily, loving the cat and mouse game that ensued between the tips of his dick and your tongue.

     “P-please baby, use your mouth more.” He cooed out to you, running an encouraging hand through your hair.

     He didn’t have to tell you twice before your mouth was engulfing his whole length. The stretch, made your jaw ache, but all that was ignored in favor of tuning in on his muffled cries, thighs shaking on either side of you.

     You look up to him, eyes lidded with lust and keep his gaze locked with yours as you fully slide him into your mouth, until his tip is but a hair’s breadth away from tickling your uvula. You let out a muffled purr at the feel of his heat pulsating onto your tongue before sliding him the rest of the way.

     You move to take him out for some air but Hoseok has other plans. He holds your head down, cautiously thrusting into your mouth. Your gagging accompanied by the sloppy noises your mouth makes on his slick cock is like music to his ears and pre-cum dribbles from his tip, some of it spilling out of your mouth and onto his balls.

     Once he loses the strength to hold your head down, you take over, bobbing your head up and down quickly in hopes of pushing him to release. It went on like this for a little, with you deep throating him and taking little breaks for air before jumping back on his dick.

     The sight of you, with drool dripping down your chin, eyes nearly rolled back, and the erotic angle of you on your knees, butt poked out behind you was just too much for poor Hoseok to handle. He deemed it too early for such a view, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy it.

     You moaned around him, sending tantalizing vibrations through the nerve endings lining his spine and toes, sending his back arching into your touch, but you weren’t done just yet. Your hands moved down to cup him warm balls, gently moving them around in your hand, all while swallowing around him. The feel of your throat constricting around him has his shaft pulsing inside of you. 

    He was so close, you knew it.

     He pushes at your shoulder to get you up, and you comply, moving to sit on your haunches.

     “O-on your tongue baby, okay?” Hoseok stands so his crotch is level with your face, violently jerking at his length in front of your face.

     “Okay, Hobi.” You stick your tongue out, giving him encouraging little flicks while he works himself to orgasm. You don’t wait long because with a guttural moan, his seed is spurting out onto your tongue in ivory ribbons. You make sure to take all of it, not letting a single drop go to waste.

     Hoseok rides out the last little aftershocks of his orgasm rubbing his length along your cum coated tongue as he slowly retracts back into his skin once more. “Can you swallow all of that for me baby?”

     You eagerly waited for this command and in one gulp you swallowed his essence. The feeling of the sticky substance steadily trickling down your throat. Once you were sure it was all gone you opened your mouth to show him that there was in fact, no more traces of his passion in your mouth.

     He leans down to press a solid kiss to your mouth, licking your lips in the process.

     “Damn baby, with a mouth like that how am I not supposed to brag to the guys about how talented my girlfriend is.” He pats your head in approval and you can’t help but show him a brilliant smile that looked like you drowned in sunshine.

    Frat Boy Pt. 9

    part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6,  part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8

    IT’S BEEN TOO LONG FRATTY FRIENDS! Literally - Six. Months. Or longer. Here’s the RECAP if you need to catch up on your infuriating frat boy shenanigans in a fun and easy fashion! It’s been a while, and we’re learning about Harry now… be fragile with him. As always, please tell me your thoughts after reading! It takes a moment but when I feel people are involved in this project it motivates me to continue with it. Anyways, I’ve already kept you waiting long enough…Thank you for sticking with us. ENJOY! xx

    18 Morning View Drive

    Coast Hills, CA

    Then, exactly an hour and thirty minutes later:

    7 pm.

    Those were the only things Harry had texted you. Just the address.

    “I don’t even know if I want to go anymore,” you whined, looking at your phone once more before tossing it on the bed. “He clearly hates me and doesn’t want me to go.”

    “I thought you told me he said you could though!”

    “Only because it sounded like he had to! His sister was practically forcing the words out of him.”

    Renny cringed. “Sister…Yeah I’m sorry, I’m still not over it.” You groaned at the reminder and she sighed in response. “Okay listen, just be yourself! Try not to hate him.” You felt your eyebrows rise higher than hairline.

    “And this is coming from a girl who loathes him more than her entire being?”

    She rolled her eyes. “I just think he’s an entitled asshole, but you clearly don’t otherwise you wouldn’t be going to the dinner. Now, nude pump or suede bootie?” She held up the two shoes she was gracious enough to let you borrow and you bit the inside of your cheek. You did think he was an entitled asshole, but… you were curious. So undeniably curious and how many girls could say they went over to a family dinner at the Styles’ house? Not that that was your primary reason for going but…

    “Uh, Y/N?” she prompted.

    “Bootie,” you said quickly, snapping yourself out of further self-analysis.  You weren’t sure if you liked the boy, but you were definitely… interested. Renny went to the closet and came back with two dresses.

    You shook your head.

    “What do you mean?”

    “They’re a little…fancy.” You bit your tongue, not allowing ridiculous to form. You shook your head.

    “Yeah it’s a family dinner. Jeans will be fine,” you reasoned. You plucked your favorite denim from the drawers and Renny gasped as if you’d smacked her across the face. “And a t-shirt,” you added with a smirk. She gasped louder and clutched her chest.

    “No no no no no. No!” She raised her finger to you, stalking to the closet again, the cocktail dresses abandoned to the floor. “If you’re wearing these booties you’re at least wearing a blouse. God, who are you?” She plucked a peachy top and a blazer from the inside of the closet, but you snatched the blazer from her hands and put it back on the hanger, opting for the cream sweater instead.

    “I want to be comfortable, not looking like I’m going to a business meeting ya dingas.” She snorted at the term and you pulled her in for a hug, clinging to her for a moment. She always seemed so soft and you weren’t sure if it was the Victoria’s Secret body lotion she used or if she was just blessed with naturally smooth skin.

    “Renny?” you mumbled against her chest, arms still securely wrapped around her.

    “Yeah?”

    Your mind raced with hundreds of questions. What were you doing? Was this absolutely stupid? How do you know if you like someone?

    “Your boobs are comfy,” you finally sighed. You knew she couldn’t possibly give you explanations for any single one of those things. She wasn’t exactly a love guru, but she was entirely the best at texting and the art of flirting.

    “Thanks. Niall thinks so too.” You squeezed her tighter before it registered what she’d said. “Gross,” you mumbled, letting go with a laugh.  You only let her put the bare minimum makeup on you and she was just finishing up with a coat of mascara when there was a knock on the door. She stopped.

    “I thought you said he wasn’t going to pick you up.”

    You shook your head. “He isn’t. I’m driving.” Renny paused, listening, as if she’d be able to hear what was going on just beyond the door. The mascara wand was set on the bathroom countertop and she crept to the door. You weren’t under any illusions that he would swing by your place beforehand so you weren’t going to bother wasting precious energy on “what-if”s, though your heart still picked up its pace in expectation. The door creaked open at the last swish of the mascara wand.

    “Niall?”

    Expectations you didn’t want in the first place fell when you heard her voice raise in pitch. Of course it wasn’t Harry.

    “What’re you doing here?”

    “Thought I’d stop by.” His satisfaction at having surprising her was evident in his smug tone and you tip-toed out, not having had a proper one-on-one with Niall since the night of the party.

    “You alone?” he whispered to her.

    You saw Renny shake her head before you took a step out. A bit of guilt hit you thinking about the spontaneous kiss, but it was so long ago. I mean, you were going to Harry’s house tonight and Niall just came for some one-on-one time with Renny. At this point the kiss just seemed…a bit irrelevant. Renny faced you as if to gesture “see! Not alone” and his blue eyes focused on you as if nothing had changed. But then they did.

    “Oh, hey Y/N, what’re you doing here?” he shrugged and shifted his weight. Renny was oblivious to the awkward shift.

    “Um, I live here?” you crossed your arms, brows furrowing a bit.

    He thought it over but for a second before he shook his head, lips quirking up in their innocent schoolboyish charm. “Right. Must be tired or somethin’.”

    “Or somethin’” Renny teased. Niall poked her sides and she twisted out of reach, only leaning back again to smack him playfully across the chest.

    “Alright love birds, I’m headed out. I’ll see you later.”

    “Bye then,” Niall said, arm already sneaking around Renny’s waist. She mouthed an “OMG” to you at his display of affection while you tried not to vom. But when the door closed shut you couldn’t help but think about how natural it seemed for his arm to wrap around her waist.

    —–

    “OH GEE, THANKS for putting on your BLINKER - not. ASSHOLE!” you shouted, almost wishing your window was down and that the pompous senior citizen wearing ray bans at night could hear you. Since you were a decent and intelligent human being you put on your blinker and switched lanes, trying to follow Siri. Grandpa was driving a Porsche and he cut you off only to go 5 miles per hour. Your 1990 Chevy Cavaleir was driving faster than that and he thinks he can cut you off just because he has a better- you exhaled hard through your nostrils.  No. He wasn’t worth it.  You’d left in plenty of time, 30 minutes early actually, even though it’d only take about 20 to get there.

    The only problem was your phone was verifiably ancient and your navigation was the slowest thing known to man. Once you’d gotten off the freeway, you’d made three wrong turns because your navigation was being ditzy and not telling you how close 600 feet was. And now the entitled drivers of Coast Hills decided you’d be okay with them cutting! you! off! Your hands squeezed the steering wheel a little too tight.

    The ocean hugged your side on the highway for another five minutes, but each glimpse you tried to steal to it was futile. It was dark, an expansive pitch-black body stretching as far as your eyes- well, couldn’t see. It left you with a chilling feeling as you turned up the winding hills to the mansions waiting at the top. They were nestled all along the drive up, though hidden by hedges and various gates, and at the very tops all you could see were their lights already glistening, making the hills twinkle with light. Perhaps tonight they could see the water better from their perch above, but a part of you doubted it. No matter which way you tried to look at it, darkness somehow refused to be penetrated.

    But you bet it looked gorgeous when the sun came up.

    In 200 feet, make a right on Coast Hills Drive.

    “Shit,” you cursed, quickly getting in the right lane and ignoring the honk of a horn. You didn’t have time to put on your blinker and as soon as you slammed on the accelerator to turn, you were slamming on the brakes. The iron gates were intimidatingly high and the guard that hopped out of his security room didn’t look amused. A mounted sign read “Coast Homes” behind a trickling waterfall that fell against a stone wall and massive palm trees stood beside it. And then there was you.

    A knock on your window practically had you jumping out of your skin.

    “Are you lost?” the guard asked. It looked as if his mouth was already open to give you directions, hands raising to point you someplace else, but you shook your head.

    “No, not lost.” And his mouth closed at your words, hands quickly dropping to his sides and confirming your suspicions.

    “Are you here to see someone then?” he prompted.

    “Harry. Uh, Harry Styles.” A slight buzz ran through you saying those words. You were here to see him. You were actually invited to the Harry’s house. Oh god, what if you saw his bedroom?

    His eyes narrowed a bit at the name.

    “I mean, I’m here to see his family?” you suddenly clarified. As if it were necessary. As if he wouldn’t believe that you were here to see him alone. It didn’t make it much more believable though.

    “What’s your name?”

    “Y/N.”

    He looked to the back of your car to check the license plate and you felt a twinge of annoyance. “Pull up then.” He used two fingers to beckon you forward before quickly jogging to the security room. You stopped closer to the gate and he scrolled through the computer with a furrowed brow, clucking when he found your name. “You’re here.” But it sounded like “wish you weren’t.” The heavy mechanics of the printer and a dull screech sounded as something printed, and he plucked a sheet of paper from the machine, holding it out to you.

    “This is your pass. It’ll last until tomorrow in case you spend the night so don’t worry about tickets or anything like that as long as this is properly displayed on your dash.” He tapped your windshield as if you weren’t aware where your dash was located and you smiled.

    “Thank you, it’ll only be for a few hours- tops.”

    He nodded and then, as if you were old friends and he was admitting you into a secret club of his, said quietly, “Their visitors don’t usually last too long.” He straightened up instantly, his moment of gossiping weakness vanished with his once-again professional posture. He gave you a nod. “Have a good night!” The gate opened and you called out a quick thank you before entering the most brilliant display of wealth you’d ever seen.

    Lawns were perfectly manicured as you passed, some opting for Mediterranean fashions and others expansive Spanish villas with imported tropical plants. Most cars you assumed were inside of the mansions in their garages, but the ones that weren’t inside weren’t any less impressive. “Ferrari, Porsche, oh! Tesla,” you muttered. It was like all the fancy cars you’d ever seen in passing on the highway had the same destination. Here. You stopped counting how many you saw on your hand when you got to 14. And the houses… they were the largest you’d ever seen. They were more like hotels than mere houses.

    You’d seen glimpses from below, and recalled the many times you’d stare up at them dreamily on late night cruises to get back home from work, the lights beautifully transforming the hilltops and making you feel like it was an early Christmas. From below you seemed to forget how massive they would be in person.  How they hinted at lives being lived just out of reach. Staring at them up close now, you somehow felt they were even more so.

    Make a right on Morning View Drive, then, in 500 feet, your destination is on your right.

    You swallowed hard despite yourself as you turned right, suddenly thinking that Renny’s idea of a dress wasn’t that ridiculous of an outfit. But it was too late now, especially when you drove down a street just as manicured as the rest, but somehow seemed wider. The streets alone…They were about twice- no, three times the size of your own in width. And the houses were separated far from each other, far enough that one property easily took up the space of four large houses. You tried to zero in on the numbers along the houses – only to realize they were hidden. By gates. More gates? What were they hiding in there, the Crown jewels?

    Your destination is on your right.

    Your body jolted forward as your twitchy legs hit the brakes too hard and your car started drifting forward again as your foot relaxed.

    Another jolt to stop before you ran into the mailbox.

    You couldn’t see a number, but you didn’t think you had too. Forget the other houses - this was the largest home you’d ever seen, fitting for how well known the Styles family was. It was a Spanish Mediterranean style mansion with golden lanterns adorning windows and balconies…and this was just what you could see from what was rising above the iron gate surrounding the property. It sat prominently in the middle of the street, both intimidating and more striking than any of its neighbors, and the largest too – your gaze ran all the way down the gate; it took up the rest of the street until the end of the hill where it’d drop off into a deep valley and eventually run straight into the ocean. You’d seen that view from the highway a thousand times, but it was different to be on the other side of it now. You knew the Styles were rich, but you didn’t think they owned an entire coastal hilltop.  

    You awkwardly repositioned the car and drove up to the callbox, but paused, looking to your purse hesitantly. Should you just call Harry on his cell? You rolled your eyes and leant out to press the little call button and the buzz that instantly droned in the air made your hand recoil in a snap and left your mouth suddenly very dry. This was real. This was happening.

    Awesome.

    You swallowed hard, trying to convince yourself you shouldn’t peel out of his driveway and drive straight back home to Renny and your ducky pajama shorts.

    The droning stopped, and a long high-pitched beeeeeep sounded, which triggered the gates. There was muffling on the other end of the line as the iron gates started peeling back, and you could’ve sworn you heard a voice say, “Is that her?” Your hands were mildly shaking as they reached to put the car back in drive, from fear? Excitement? Admittedly, a bit of both.

    You drove up the cobblestone drive through a yard lush with tropical plants that had to have been imported, but your gaze was quickly stolen by the resort-like property you’d be entering at any moment. Columns stood tall and the encased chandelier emitted a warm glow where the intricate glass doorway stood. The click of your booties walking along the cobblestone seemed loud as you walked to the front and tentatively raised a hand to the door. You knocked softly for fear the intricate glass would break, though it did seem expensive and thick enough…

    You looked back to the only car in the driveway – yours. Their cars were probably hidden and well-kept from the elements in one of the three garages you’d parked in front of. The dent you’d received from last year’s fender-bender was still obvious even in this dim lighting. The crickets seemed peaceful tonight.

    “Welcome!”

    You turned sharply at the high-pitched voice to see Gemma. She held a full champagne flute in her hand, and leant a bit on the dark wood rim of the door, looking every bit as beautiful as you’d remembered – more so, now that you saw the cocktail dress she was wearing.

    “Hi!” you mirrored her enthusiasm.  She ushered you in, not noticing it was a mere mask for how totally unprepared you felt. “Was I, uh, was this like a formal occasion?” you whispered, eyes darting down the long hall. The blank stare she gave you made your anxiety about being the most awkward human bean rise to new levels.

    “What, formal?” Gemma looked baffled for a moment. “Oh! No, not at all. All my other clothes are dirty and I’ve been refusing for Sven or Eli to do them.” She took in your lost eyes. “The house maids- or, housemen? Not sure which,” she clarified. Her eyes quickly darted over your cardigan and jeans. “You look wonderful by the way. Dinner’s only just begun, I promise.” You smiled warmly at her, suddenly becoming aware of the chatter and silverware scraping the plates. A grand piano sat in the entrance, and there was a surprising amount of marble for the Spanish exterior of the house. Chandeliers lined the tall ceilings all the way down and some orchestra music you weren’t sophisticated enough to name filled the air.

    She started walking down the hall, and you trailed behind her, your heart rate accelerating from the anticipation of seeing Harry in his home. It sounds weird, but you’d never been able to picture him at a proper house, with a family, with a childhood really… just the fraternity.

    “Y/N is here!” She called out just as she turned the corner. Seven pairs of eyes locked on you and you instantly tugged on your sleeves. Especially when you only recognized two. Harry sat beside the head of the table, his eyes locked on the plate of food, and a surprise. Sorority Viv was beside him. You wanted to scowl, but you tugged the sleeves of your sweater down instead.

    “Hi,” you put up a hand and braced a smile.

    “Well we didn’t think you were coming,” a woman said. Her blonde bob looked strangely familiar and Harry’s eyes snapped to her when she spoke. Even from here you saw them harden.

    “Oh..uh,” you looked down at your watch. 6:55. “I’m sorry, I thought dinner started at 7.”

    “You’re fine dear,” the man at the head of the table assured. Mr. Styles you assumed. He had kind features and softened wrinkles by his eyes when he smiled like now. He was like a George Clooney and, even though he had gray hair, he was tan and somehow it was fashionable. But something was off.

    “It was meant to be 6,” she noted, and her pearl necklace jostled as she leant over and placed her empty glass of champagne on the table and beckoned you to the seat in front of Harry. “Well come in! Please,” her voice sounded sincere but the thin smile radiated about as much warmth as a frozen potato. Gemma squeezed your shoulder as she passed and sat at the next empty one a few chairs down. You pulled yours out next to a fair-skinned boy with light dull brown hair and he offered his hand. It was like porcelain, so it was a little unnerving when you grasped it and found he was actually warm.   

    “Charlie,” he said, and you realized he was the boy you saw kissing Gemma.

    “Y/N,” you smiled. You looked across to Viv and did the same, and she returned it, if a little unwilling. She looked to Harry again, who’d busied himself more with food.

    “Hey,” you said, but it was into the void, his eyes elsewhere probably looking at the thousand dollars worth of décor – your embarrassment was swallowing you up until Viv nudged him. He looked up, eyes distant, and they locked on your own for only a second.

    “Hi.”

    It was mortifying.

    “So-” Charlie cleared his throat- “You guys are mates then I reckon?”

    “We’re not sure what they are,” Gemma piped in.

    “What do you mean?” Viv asked, looking to Harry.

    “Yes, what do you mean?” Mrs. Styles suddenly halted the conversation at the other head of the table with the couple beside her. Harry’s face morphed into a scowl.                               

    “Gemma,” he warned.

    “Mary, please,” Mr. Styles sighed.

    “Harry,” Gemma and Mary spoke at the same time.

    “So!” Charlie let out a nervous laugh. “The chicken’s really good isn’t it?” He forked another bite into his mouth and you were envious you couldn’t do the same. Just like that, a gloved hand reached down and gingerly set down a china plate with the juiciest piece of chicken and capers you think you’d ever get the privilege of eating.

    “Thank you,” you looked back to the kitchen help before he could disappear, black and white uniform and all. “You have a lovely home Mr. Styles. And Mrs. Styles.”

    “Oh honey my mother-in-law is Mrs. Styles. I’m Mary, and he is Lionel.” Her voice was bubbly like the champagne she twirled around, but so was her friendly tone – full of air.

    “Oh, okay.” You busied yourself with picking up the silverware before stealing a glance to Harry. His demeanor was different than usual, eyes glued to his food, cheek sucked in as he lightly gnawed on it. He was still, but .. sad? No.

    …despondent?

    “Did practice tire you out?”

    His eyelashes fluttered at the sound of your voice and he looked up, lips pursing just the slightest. It was a miracle he hadn’t ignored you.

    “No…”- a brief lift of his shoulders, a shake of the head, then- “No,” he repeated, forking a piece of chicken into his mouth.

    “Yeah, you have been awfully quiet-OW,” Charlie began coughing and Gemma threw him a glare.

    “Harry’s never quiet.”

    “And how would you know that?” Harry suddenly snapped to life and the room dropped by ten degrees. She raised the napkin neatly to her mouth before slowly tucking it below her.

    She took a deep composed breath.

    “Oh please Harry,” her oddly placed laugh made you tug your sweater tighter to your body. “I’ve lived with you long enough don’t you think?”

    “Long enough? Yeah I completely agree.” A sarcastic half grin spread across his face and something tugged within you that made you want to kiss it away. You heard yourself thinking and it made you sick. Kiss? KISS??!

    You stuffed another bite in your mouth.

    “So Y/N what’s the story here?”

    You look up, cheeks full. Mr. Styles – Lionel, laughed a bit at the sight and his laugh didn’t make you want to cringe into your sweater like his wife’s. “Sorry darling, I’ll let you finish.”

    You swallowed a little too fast.

    “What are you studying here? How do you know Harry?”

    “I’m majoring in Biology, but we’re in English class together.”

    “Biology! I’ll drink to that,” Lionel lit up and raised his flute.

    “Lionel’s the best doctor in Southern California.” Mary crossed her heart, and Lionel shook his head lightly.

    “She exaggerates.” Her eyes narrowed slightly at his comment, but he continued, “If you ever need an internship or if you want to come visit one day…feel free.” He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out an extremely thick, extremely white business card as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “So… just class?” He gestured between you and Harry once more.

    “Well, he’s also quite a good soccer player so I’m pretty sure the whole school knows him.”

    “I wouldn’t say the whole school,” Harry started, but his eyes were fixed on Lionel and the way he broke into an easy smile.

    “So we’ve heard. We’ve seen him play once or twice, haven’t we?” He looked to Mary who nodded. She soundlessly raised the napkin to her mouth again but she didn’t speak. “Yeah, he’s quite good.”

    “Really good,” Viv crooned.

    “Could you pass the water please?” Gemma asked.

    “What?” Mary arched a thin brow.

    “The water,” Gemma repeated.

    “Water,” Lioinel mimicked the accent and broke into a smile. “You can’t ever leave Gemma, it’s decided. I’d miss your voice too much.”

    Something snapped in you. He lifted the heavy vase of water effortlessly and passed it on to her, oblivious of the gears turning in your head. The accent.

    Mr. Styles didn’t have one.

    And neither did Mary?

    “You don’t have accents?” It was out before you could stop it and the table fell silent. It was one of those awful moments when everyone’s brows were squished and slow side glances were given. And a nauseating feeling spread through you when you realized you might have said a very wrong thing. Viv nervously looked to Harry.

    “What do you mean?” Mary asked.

    Harry cleared his throat. “I mean, technically we all have accents.”

    “He’s right,” Gemma said, pointing her fork.

    “But you’re…are you British?”

    “I am!” Charlie said.

    “Yes you idiot,” Gemma nudged him, and Lionel laughed a bit before shaking his head.

    “No darling, we’re from here. Born and bred beach bums.” He threw up the shaka sign in true dad-fashion but Mary tipped her champagne flute back.

    Harry snorted.

    “Never say that again.”

    “Why am I embarrassing you?”

    Harry didn’t bat an eye.

    “Oh come on…Charlie smiled.” Lionel innocently looked over for support, but Charlie’s gaze was locked deep on his chicken by then.  

    “You’re lying,” Harry shrugged. “You never go to the beach. Can’t be a host that lies to its guest can we?” Harry turned to you and you froze. “You don’t like liars do you? Cause I don’t.”

    “What has gotten into you?” Lionel’s voice was breathless, incredulous.

    The table fell silent and the two looked at each other from opposite ends of the table. Lionel set his glass down and a tint of disbelief reflected in his eyes.

    “I’ve never seen you there it’s just funny to hear you say it,” Harry continued calmly.

    “What’re you talking about I took you sailing all the time.”

    “I’ve seen pictures!” Viv said, “Oh you were so cute in your little outfits, don’t you remember?” But her voice sounded overenthusiastic, keen to change the subject.

    “Sure and how old was I again Vivvy?”

    His retort was instant, the question harmless enough, but it was the way he said it that made Viv’s face instantly fall. For a moment, you even felt bad for her she seemed so genuinely hurt. Mary rubbed her mouth with the napkin so hard you weren’t sure if the red on her lips was blood or makeup. Do you speak? Make a mad dash for the door? Sorry, I didn’t sign up to be on an episode of the Housewives - gotta blast! Then you could throw the thumbs up sign to Harry on your way.

    No. You couldn’t. You didn’t even dare to breathe right now.

    Gemma watched wordlessly, just as much at a loss as you. More so, it seemed, for her mouth open and closed multiple times, but each time it was a hopeless attempt. Lionel rose his brows, took a deep breath, and leaned back. He looked tired.

    Harry’s eyes had barely flitted over to yours before retreating again and in that brief moment you looked at him, it’s as if he realized what he’d said. His cheeks flushed, but his jaw was locked.

    Okayy, someone woke up on the wrong side of his small fraternity bed this morning. But you’re welcome to come back and live with us. Have your nice king sized bed again…” It sounded like a nice offer but if you listened hard enough you could’ve sworn you detected something sharp.

    “Oh funny joke Lionel,” Mary laughed humorlessly, slowly turning to you. “Harry’s always been independent.”

    I wanted Gemma to reach out, to whisper a concerned Harry as a warning, because right now his eyes were dark, brewing a storm of blood rain from invisible scars he’d cut open himself. How deep did they run?

    “Yes, funny, funny, that’s what we are,” Lionel said, but there was no smile on his face, he was rubbing the corners of his mouth with the napkin and setting it down on his clean plate. “Sorry about this.”

    As if Harry wasn’t in the room. As if you didn’t feel as though you were in the most awkward position you could’ve been placed in, plopped in the middle of a tug of war you didn’t really remember signing up for. Were you supposed to be on a side?  

    “Dinners aren’t usually like this, I don’t know why he’s-”

    “I don’t know why we’re having this dinner. Are you done?” Harry asked Viv. Her plate was still full of vegetables and at least half the chicken.

    “Actually-”

    “Great! Are you done?” He turned to you in all his over-animation, and in his dark green eyes you felt a sudden sympathy. It wasn’t right what he was doing, but he could only be acting out for a reason. Or multiple.

    Or perhaps he was a just a selfish petulant boy.

    Whatever the reason there was a wild plead in his gaze and you didn’t want to disappoint.

    But you were also very much aware of Lionel waiting for your answer.

    “If everyone’s done, then I’m done too.” And in fact, your appetite had disappeared.

    Gemma seemed close to tears, but she blinked them away and tossed her napkin. “Yes, I’m actually quite tired.”

    Charlie halted his fork mid bite and with one look from Gemma he reluctantly put it down.

    “Stuffed full actually,” he mumbled.

    “Great, well, I’ll grab dessert.”

    Mary rose with her napkin but the scrape of Harry’s chair against the wood floors made her do a sharp turn.

    “Where are you going?”

    He didn’t answer as he headed to the marble staircase, footsteps loud as he jogged up them.

    “Let him go,” Lionel sighed, and with it, he shrunk smaller in his chair.

    “Harry!” she screeched. But he didn’t answer and with a turn at the top of the stairwell he was gone.

    Everyone dispersed after that. Lionel received a conveniently-timed phone call to which he had to dismiss himself into one of the many rooms. Mary headed immediately into the kitchen but she never came back -

    And then there were four.

    “I’m-” Gemma bit her cheek, folded her hands. “Nevermind.”

    “I think I should get back.”

    Gemma looked at you understandingly, a sad sort of reluctant smile gracing her face. “Perhaps that’d be best. It was really nice meeting you though, and as much as Harry doesn’t seem to get on with loads of people, he mentioned you multiple times. I thought-” Her eyes got misty again and they glazed over the multiple paintings hanging over the dining table. “Nevermind what I thought,” she looked down to her feet but for a moment before that, her warm eyes had smiled at yours. You didn’t know her, not at all, yet somehow you could tell the warmth behind them was genuine. And you liked her instantly.

    “Alright, I’ll just – I’ll head out then. Thank you so much for the dinner, it really was delicious.”

    “Thanks for coming,” Charlie offered, swinging his arm around Gemma.

    “Guess I’ll see you at school.” Viv appeared beside them and the unexpected head of jealousy showed its face again. Well, not its whole face. Just the tip of its nose as it peered behind the pillars of your heart, because would you really want to spend more time in there?

    You were shocked when that tiny part of you said yes.

    You were only halfway to your car when you heard Viv shout out.

    “Wait!” You obeyed, feet halting as her fast jogging in heels made record time. She let out a breath. “Back there, what you said about the accents, it’s not like it’s a big secret, but um.” Her eyebrows slightly knitted together. “I’m not sure why I’m telling you this, I guess just so you don’t make it a big deal.”

    “Yeah. Wait- why, did I make it a big deal? I really didn’t mean to.”

    She shook her head, then stopped. Her head leaned slightly to the side and her eyes pinched as she pondered your questioned. “Maybe a little.”

    She put her arm around you and steered you to your car.

    “Harry’s adopted, it’s not bad that I’m telling you this because they don’t try and keep it hidden or anything it’s just – they don’t advertise it. And most people don’t ask. They just assume long-term boarding school or something. They don’t look into it.”

    “Oh. Right.”

    Adopted. Of freaking course.

    “It was when he was young, seven or something. Uh-” She stopped, perhaps she’d said a bit too much. “But anyway it’s not that big of a deal.” But it sounded like she was trying to convince herself. She looked to you.

    “Yeah,” you agreed, “Totally fine. I mean I’m sure his other friends know anyways.”

    She smiled then, and stuck you at arms length. “See you later.”

    After revving the engine, and drawing up to the gate, you sat there for what must have been a solid twenty seconds, throwing the engine in reverse and then approaching it again. It didn’t move. Shouldn’t this thing be automatic from the inside? You threw it in park and trudged to the front door again, but no one was moving inside the house. You tried knocking. Everyone was gone. Fantastic.

    A miracle, one of the garage doors started to open and you walked closer.

    “Oh good, I was about to be stuck!” you called out as the doors clicked back, expecting Gemma to return your smile from the other side. But it was dark and no one was there. You did see the shadow of three other cars though. Three very nice racecar material cars.

    “Hello?” You called out. You swallowed harshly when you saw two brown booties.

    “What’s going on?”

    You felt like you should be the one asking him that, but you just shrugged your shoulders. “The gate won’t open.”

    Harry stood expressionless before retreating to the back of the garage.

    “Wait- where are you-”

    The sound of the gate opening shut you up. “Oh, thanks,” you mumbled. You didn’t really know what else to say, and Harry wasn’t exactly making conversation, so you were silent as the clank of your door closed you in again. Back to reality. This night had been a disaster.

    The spluttering of your engine lasted longer than usual and you stilled.

    Come on grandpa!!!!

    You twisted the key again but it was refusing to give you the satisfying thrum when it finally gave. You were so close!! It couldn’t give out now!!!! It could literally break down, say, in a total hypothetical situation that did NOT happen, when I’m trying to avoid human contact after being pantsed in front of hottie toddie physics professor but it CAN’T give out now.

    You tried again but it failed.

    And you tried again.

    And again.

    And again.

    Harry’s figure approached the car window with a beer in hand and he took a deep swig of it before knocking on the window. You barely heard it above the spluttering but you gave grandpa a moment of silence.

    You rested your head on the steering wheel before bouncing up again and rolling down the window.

    “What Harry,” you sighed.  

    “She’s dead.”

    “I know.”

    You got out and waited, crossing your arms while Harry ran into the garage to check if he had any jumper cables or whatever else he’d need to fix this. At least it wasn’t smoking.

    “We don’t have any.” He sauntered over, scratching the back of his neck and looking at the car. “Can stay here if you want.”

    “I can call an Uber.” You hit your phone’s lock switch but it was a black screen. DAMN you Renny for hogging the charger before you’d left. DAMN YOU. “Can’t. Can’t call an Uber. Could you call one for me?”

    “Are you trying to use me for my money?”

    “I- no.” Your mouth parted but it closed again. Was he for real? Was he….kidding? “I can pay you back you know.”

    “Lionel won’t hear of it. He doesn’t trust Uber.”

    “Doesn’t trust Uber. What is he? A binge-watcher of late night crime shows?”

    “No.” An almost smile shone through and you crossed your arms.

    “Well I can’t just block the gate.”

    “No one’s going anywhere for tonight.” He headed for the garage again. “Come on,” he called back.

    “Renny will be worried about me!”

    “You can call from our landline.”

    People still had those?

    “Sh they can hear you these walls aren’t 12 inches thick!!” you whisper-yelled into the receiver. You gave Harry an awkward smile and twirled the cord around the vintage phone. “Mary picked it up at a Parisian market or something. It’s mainly for decoration but they got it hooked up just in case,” he’d said, only walking to the end of the hall to give you some “privacy.”

    It was literally from the 1920s. You felt like a vaudevillian actress about to break into song about how she wants to live a normal life but mommy and daddy keep her locked in a tower.

    “I DON’T CARE IF THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD HEARS ME YOU ARE BETRAYING YOURSELF IF YOU SPEND THE NIGHT THERE.”

    “Renny- ! Oh my- ! Could you just- could you just LISTEN?”

    “Let me call you an Uber.”

    “Lionel already knows and they’re-” you looked over at Harry who seemed to be distracted by a painting he’s probably seen a thousand times before and you lowered your voice- “Apparently one of the maids is already making my bed.”

    “ARE YOU ROYALTY NOW?! Are they going to give you complimentary chocolates in the morning?! Are you going to be giving him complimentary HEAD-?!!!”

    “RENNY!”

    Harry’s head whipped towards yours, but his lips were still set in his pout. You grimaced, putting your back to him and facing the end of the hallway.

    “Now you have me thinking about the wizard’s wand. I literally hate you,” you grumbled.

    “You know I’m joking. Well, half-joking. You can stay there if you want it’s just-” she sighed- “What is this, are you guys like dating now? Because the last I heard you were literally running away from him and wanting to punch his face in.”

    “He does give off that effect. And no! We’re not-” your voice lowered more- “We’re not dating. My car’s just broken down.

    “You keep lying to yourself.”

    “I’m not lying to anybody.”

    “Keep telling yourself that kid. Because the last time I was with you was when you were literally RUNNING away from him. But you’re going to spend the night at his house. Voluntarily. I mean geeze you’re giving the poor guy a headache you can at least suck his dick.”

    She’d hung up before the words even processed.

    —-

    “This is the living wing, I dunno why they call it that it just makes it sounds depressing.”

    “What do they mean by living?” you asked. Each word sounded heavy on your tongue, each sentence carefully constructed. It was weird to be talking with him when he clearly wasn’t in the best frame of mind. When you didn’t know if he’d snap and turn sour all of a sudden.

    Though you didn’t think that’d happen. He seemed more sullen to you now more than anything, apologetic maybe, if a word like that could describe him. Think: a toddler after being scolded for something he’s done wrong. Eh? That image seemed to work.

    “It’s where my dad keeps his…creatures. Birds, fish, I don’t know I never fucking go in. It’s also where their bedrooms are.” He poked his head around the hallway before muttering, “I guess.”  

    “Oh okay.”

    Your feet stopped following him when you met a tall window. Their backyard was….spectacular. It was dark and the twinkle lights only exposed so much, but there was a very nice long pool, tile patio with sunbathing chairs, and more green beyond it. The all black on the horizon you assumed to be the ocean.

    You didn’t realize Harry was behind you until he muttered, “What’re you thinking about?”

    “You know I could ask you the same question. Like at least half the time I’m around you.”

    His brows squeezed together a bit but a bit of a smirk was starting to form. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

    “Oh you do. You definitely do,” you started to laugh and back into the window to scrutinize him from afar. Because right now he had a very odd look in his eye. “You’re quiet most of the time,” you said softer. After dinner, you weren’t quite sure what was going on in Harry’s family life. But the longer the adopted word kept being tossed around in your brain and analyzed every which way, you wondered how many different dynamics existed that added or subtracted to their relationship. Take Gemma. How did she fit in? She had the accent too.

    So, if you could make him smile by backing up and eyeing him like he was some sort of specimen than so be it. As much as you would’ve killed to see him unhappy a couple days ago, you’d realized you’d been a bit rash to run into conclusions. And yes, you had managed to make yourself look like an utter mentally unstable ass and a half. So you could cut him some slack. The night hadn’t been a nightmare for just one of you.

    “Stop it,” he warned. But you started to circle him and you squinted one eye, putting two hands up to frame Harry’s face and the window with the warmly-lit grounds like a director choosing the shot. “Okay seriously. Stop.”

    “Nope,” you popped the p, “It’s funny. I couldn’t picture you in a place like this before, but now I can.” You slowly put your hands down and you thought you heard him mumble weird.

    “Oi. Did you just call me weird?” your mouth opened in playful surprise. His nose scrunched up at your over exaggerations. He was confused, you could tell. And he was probably being just as cautious as you were, you realized. You didn’t blame him. But he was so close to smiling. Soooo clooosseee-

    “S’just weird,” he settled with. And his would-be smile dropped. A little bit of guilt struck you.

    “What is?” you began slowly.

    “It’s weird that you’re here.” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

    Ouch.

    “Why?”  

    “Because I can’t picture you here.”

    His voice seemed shy. He nodded towards the other end of the hall. “Come on, I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.” And he didn’t give you much time to catch up, nor time to feel offended, as his long legs were once again a disadvantage to you.

    You weren’t sure how many bedrooms you’d been passing, and to be completely honest, Harry’s explanations of what each room was went a bit beyond you.

    “Theatre’s to your right, sun room’s to the left. That’s the library over in there, elevator’s around the bend. Annnnd… here it is.”

    He forgot to mention the multiple living rooms you’d been passing which had killer ocean views, or the full-on mini bars. Yes. Bars. As in numerous. You didn’t see much alcohol in them though and you wondered if it had anything to do with Harry.

    “I’ll be at the other end then.”

    “Of the house?”

    “The hall, just there.” He pointed, and looked back at you with a funny look about him. “No sneaking into my bedroom.”

    You coughed. “I’m sorry, was that a joke? A poor one but…Are you making jokes now?”

    His smile faltered, but it was finally there. No matter how small or pained it looked. His eyes looked to his boots for a second before settling on your elbow, then your shoulder. Then your chin. Or was it-

    “Right. Well. I’ll give you something to wear, just- stay there. Or don’t. I don’t care.” Harry turned quickly and disappeared into the last room at the hall. Your eyes grazed the hallway walls. He may not look necessarily enthused that you were there, but in this whole situation you’d felt like an outsider. And you suspected that was exactly what he needed.

    Not that you held any pretenses to know what that confusing boy needed.

    Not at all.

    Or rather, none at all.

    None were there to gather dust, to give you a glimpse into what he looked like as a toddler through to the awkward teen years. No family portraits hung. Each wall’s empty space was filled with a landscape painting of the sea, or the cliffs facing the water. Except for the power portrait of the Styles in the center of the home that looked out over their grounds - it was stark of any traces of family existence. The messy bits anyway. And instantly you compared it to your old stained carpets and walls with so many nails in it if you removed all the pictures and unscrewed the nails, you’d be left with hardly a house at all. This felt like someone had come in, staged it for a potential buyer, and that was it. Like if you opened the dresser’s drawer you wouldn’t find anything in it except for another nail or the assembly instruction manual.

    You hummed to yourself, peering into your bedroom. A nice queen-sized bed and bamboo flooring. White canopy drapes covering what you assumed to be a window.  The only thing that seemed off was the ceiling. It had stars painted on it. You walked to the center of the room and looked up- there was a name there, inscribed in the center of the biggest star. You sat on the edge of the bed, twiddling your thumbs before wandering over to the ensuite bathroom. It was no less impressive.

    A big part of you was wishing to be with Renny right now. Gosh you would’ve paid anything to see her face if she could only see the outside of this house. You never fared well when there was quiet, a lot of it anyway. And in a house this big, it was quiet. A little too quiet. And cold. Was the AC set to 50 or something?

    Warm water ran down your face and you briskly turned the faucet off. At least Renny would be able to say “I told you so” tomorrow. Well, not about the blowjob thing. You opened the medicine cabinet to find some toothpaste, or face soap. The last thing you needed was another zit to pop through.

    But there wasn’t anything of the sort. No no no.

    Pills filled the cabinets. Some with labels, some without. You closed the cabinet. Definitely not toothpaste. Definitely not your business. But who were they-

    “Oh my gosh!” your heart flew to your chest.

    Mary was sitting on the edge of your bed, silent, hands folded in her lap. Had she seen you? The sudden adrenaline found an escape in an awkward laugh. “You scared me.”

    “Oh I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to do that.” She tucked a strand behind her ear and it wasn’t until your hip hit the door frame on the way out of the bathroom that you realized she hadn’t been looking at you this entire time. She would’ve judged you for that blunder. No, her eyes were fixed on the walls, then the ceiling.

    Did she need help with something? Were you in the wrong room?

    “Is this my room?”

    “It’s my youngest’s room.” She looked up again, and her left hand seemed to be a little shaky as she soothed already straight hair behind her ear. You watched her closer and saw her body sway a bit to steady herself when her head lowered. You instinctually looked to the door, to an exit. Harry should be down there. Nerves suddenly held your body like they always do in a situation that’s unfamiliar, in the face of unpredictability.

    “She liked astronomy!” She said suddenly, as if she’d just had an epiphany. She walked over to the canopy drapes and peered between them, revealing a balcony as she looked out. “I thought she’d like it. She likes the stars.”

    “I bet they’re, uh-” your eyes shot out again- “Beautiful from here.”

    She was quiet and she slowly turned to you, pointing to the ceiling. “There. Did you- didyouseeit? There.” She stumbled closer, still in heels, and you crossed your arms tightly, nodding even though you had no idea. You followed her hand briefly. It was the scribble on the wall.

    “I picked it,” she said, finger sliding to fall at her heart. “I picked it.”  

    “Jesus! Mary.” Harry stormed in, a horrified look on his face as he clutched clothes in his hands. They fell to the floor.

    “And Joseph,” you muttered.

    Harry’s eyes held no humor in them in the brief moment he glanced to you. It was hardly enough time to properly glare. But glare he did. And there was enough fiery gusto in them to realize that now was not the time.

    “Jane,” she corrected. “Jane.”

    Harry was struck still, and you watched as his eyes frantically observed. But when she was about to sit down again he spoke,

    “What’re you doing in here? Y/N is going to try and sleep.”

    Mary looked at him, her drunken emotional journey to the past turning sour. Her lips pressed in a hard line and she stood up, swaying a bit when she did so, but the level of composure she emanated was impressive.  She went over to him, passing you silently, and for an irrational second you thought she was going to jump you. Instead, she grabbed Harry’s arm when she was almost out the door. “There were two rooms Harry.” She tried to whisper it, but the alcohol had warped her perception and you heard everything.

    She let her hand fall and Harry’s fist clenched as it did.

    You were struck dumb, again. This wasn’t your domain, you weren’t close enough to comfort him if that was what he needed and you weren’t brave enough to interject if he needed a good slap in the face. You barely knew him. And the realization of that sunk deeper than you’d ever realized. You can get frustrated because of him, infuriated at him even, but you couldn’t be one to judge. Not when he seemed more miserable here than anywhere else.

    “Stay here,” he finally said. And then he was gone, leaving you with a pile of clothes that couldn’t explain the half of it.

    You stripped quietly once the door was closed, pulling the oversized plaid button up down that fell to completely cover your hands. It still left you cold, barely covering your bum, but your heart warmed a little at how he didn’t just give you a black t-shirt. You almost stepped over the sweatpants that were there before greedily snatching them up with a smile In your fanciful mind you imagined he knew you’d be cold in here.

    Harry never came back. You couldn’t text Renny, or anyone, and you couldn’t be bothered with figuring out how to turn on the tv or to find a channel. So you lay there, looking at the ceiling. You didn’t belong in this room. Mary, even if she hadn’t necessarily said get out, still verifiably creeped you out enough so that you didn’t want to be in this room. You never knew Harry had another sibling. Not that you’d even known about Gemma until yesterday. How many other people knew him, truly? Why were you here now? What would you do if you opened your eyes and Mary was just sitting at the end of your bed again - watching you sleep?  It made your head dizzy and you closed your eyes. If she was there at least you wouldn’t be able to see her. But the scribble in the sky was still burned in your mind’s eye and it had your imagination roaring. You rolled over on your side, pulling up the thin sheet to cover your ear. The wind smacked a palm tree leaf against the balcony window and you jolted in place. You felt haunted, and it wasn’t like the sheet would protect you from anything except for soothing the little toddler in you who still believed that good always won, evil always lost.

    This was an expensive home.

    With probably more security than the local bank.

    You were safe.

    But you didn’t feel secure.

    Your anxious thoughts continued like pins pricking your stomach until fatigue made it stop. You didn’t know the time when you fell asleep.

    And you didn’t know the time when you awoke. The smacking of the palm trees was as bad as ever , and your nightmare had been worse tonight. The same sick one. A house in the countryside, peeling wallpaper that threatened to wrap itself over your hands if you leant against it a little too long, trapping you there when you needed to run from faceless creatures.

    You were being watched.

    You jolted-to in a cold sweat.

    Was it 2 am? 3? You hoped it was closer to 6, to the sunrise. These days you cherished the times when you’d wake up at 4. You tried closing your eyes again, but the sweat soon chilled you enough to where the sheet wasn’t enough. You silently stood, walking over to the cabinets on the far side of the wall. The painted shutter doors squeaked when you opened them. It must’ve not been opened for a while because the paint caused the two doors to stick together and it only gave on the third tug.

    What you saw stilled your heart. Because you didn’t find linens or a big fluffy blanket, and if you’d discovered this just a few hours later in the morning you’d probably glance right over it, perhaps it would’ve sparked a moment of confusion maybe. But now, in a big strange house in the middle of the night you surely felt a chill. And then you were booking it out to the hall.

    His door was there. Just like any other door. But you paced around it a few times. He was probably sleeping. Should you just go to the downstairs? Just…I don’t know… grab a glass of water? Try putting on the tv? Like a normal person would? You raised your hand, but it fell just as fast. Gosh who were you?!

    You couldn’t yell at Harry for being bipolar when you were basically the perfect spokesmodel. You knew why you were standing outside his door. You knew who’d make you feel secure. This was embarrassing.

    But the door opened before you had to knock.

    “You can come in,” he murmured.

    “Oh,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Oh you don’t have to-”

    But when he opened the door wider you didn’t waste a second in entering.  

    part 10

    Hunted {BTS Mafia!AU}

    PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

    Pairing: Yoongi x reader
    Genre: BTS mafia au
    Warning: angst, smut (at some point), violence, mentions of prostitution/drugs, swearing, other dark themes I can’t think of right now

    Writer: Bom

    Word count: 1815

    Originally posted by letsbreaktables

    Summary:

    Y/n finds out about the mysterious ‘Nightwalker’ situation, and is infuriated when neither Yoongi, Youngji, Taehyung or Jungkook will tell her what it is. To their surprise, a known gang from the north has offered to help them in exchange for their own information and Youngji’s sudden disappearance

    Keep reading

    Second Chances (James Conrad)

    Pairing: James Conrad x OC

    Warning: Little, tiny bit of violence. And giant bugs. Lol.

    Originally posted by enchantedbyhiddles


    I couldn’t relax. Couldn’t close my eyes without seeing it all over again. 

    Choppers being tossed from the sky, like tiny toys. Flames licking away at molten metal. Bodies falling from midair. And those eyes. Those huge, yellow eyes. I squeezed my own eyes shut, desperate to make those horrible mental images vanish. Though the second I tried to think of something else, anything else, my mind wandered back to him.

    To James Conrad.

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    anonymous asked:

    Can I have when it's like in the middle of the night and the Paladin's S/o just gets up from the bed and leaves the room, only to get a cup of water or something and the Paladins wake up only to see that their s/o isn't at their side, freaks out, only to find them in the kitchen with a cup of water in their hands.. Sorry if this is long

    Hey it’s mod Enki! This is really super cute so it’s gonna be like a tiny drabble for each! I’m sorry this is so long orz I kinda got carried away. 

    ——

    Shiro: 

    You woke up with the taste of dried spit and left over whatever you had for dinner. Space goo again? You could have sworn it was something different this past time. Either way, it didn’t leave a good taste in your mouth. With what little light in the room you looked to your side to see Shiro comfortably asleep next to you, his head on your shoulder. Even though you hated to disturb him from his sleep, you needed to get a glass of water. You were a little hot, too, from being so close to him while you slept. With a sigh you gently wiggled your way from out of the covers and out of the bed. As soon as your bare feet hit the cold floor you shivered. Suddenly you weren’t so hot anymore and even debated going back to bed. The grimy taste in your mouth told you otherwise and you headed to the door. 

    Once out of the room you flinched at the bright lights in the hallway almost bumping into a few things as your eyes adjusted. Even as you got used to the bright lights, you still stumbled your way to the kitchen like a drunkard. Fumbling with the light switch you managed to light the kitchen. It didn’t take you too long to get a nice refreshing glass of water and you pretty much downed it in one go. 

    However, when you turned around to refill your glass you practically jumped three feet in the air as you saw someone out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t manage to hold on to your glass in your fright and it fell right out of your hands. You fumbled trying to properly catch it until your hands managed to get purchase on the slippery glass. A low chuckle resounded to your side and you almost jumped again. Instead you turned to face the source only to see none other than your loving boyfriend, in the same groggy state as you.

    “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He said, his voice low and a little scratchy.

    “I don’t think startle really covers it.” You replied clearly exasperated. “I would phrase it more like… scared the living shit out of me.” 

    He chuckled again putting his hands up in surrender. “Okay okay, I got it. Next time I’ll send you a letter before I enter a room.”

    “Oh ha ha…” You mocked sarcastically. “What are you doing up anyways?”

    “I woke up and couldn’t feel you next to me and got worried. Sounds a little silly I know.” 

    “I see, then I guess the next time I leave the bed I’ll be sending you a letter of warning.” You said quoting his earlier remark. He just shook his head before letting out a yawn. It wasn’t long before you were yawning, too. Setting down the glass you shuffled your way over to him, rubbing your arms for warmth.

    “Let’s just go to bed already, I’m cold.” You mumbled. 

    “Alright.” Shiro pressed a kiss to your forehead before the two of you headed back to his room for some much needed rest. 

    Lance:

    It was probably the dead of night when you woke up, annoyed by the boy sleeping beside you. He was practically sprawled out on the bed and kicking you in the side. All the blankets were bunched up onto you and clearly overheating you to the point of being pretty uncomfortable. You angrily shoved the blankets off of you and onto Lance who was dead ass asleep and drooling onto the bed. A sigh forced it’s way out of you and you tried to think of how exactly you were going to get out of the bed with the mess of a boy beside you. You debated just shoving him off the bed entirely so you could just get out easily. Hell, he probably wouldn’t even wake up if you did. 

    As tempting as it was, you weren’t that mean. Or you were and you just didn’t have the energy to move his dumb ass. Either way you managed to escape from the bed and exit out into the hallway. You were too god damn hot and needed to get something that could cool you down. The lights of the hallway were probably even more annoying than Lance’s sleeping habits at the moment and you squinted to make sense of your surroundings. 

    “Stupid lights…” You mumbled to yourself as you finally made your way to the kitchen. 

    You perked up as soon as you got your water and felt the cool liquid slide down your throat. It was so simple yet so refreshing to you. You sighed contently and just stood there for a second, relishing in the peace you had found in the dead of night. That is, before you felt two arms wrap around you and a face bury itself in your neck. 

    “Y/n…. Come back to bed. You scared me I thought you were gone.” Lance mumbled. 

    “You’re so dumb sometimes… I just needed a glass of water.” You said trying to wiggle out of his grasp. His grip was too solid though and you had no choice but to give up. 

    “Y/n…” He mumbled your name again and you couldn’t help but realize how ironic it was. He never wanted to cuddle you in bed but suddenly he was all over you. 

    “Well I can’t go back to bed if you keep holding me like this.” You said trying to shove him away. 

    He seemed to comply this time and let go, eyes still closed, almost like he was sleep walking. You took him by the hand and led him out of the kitchen and back to bed where you two could hopefully get some more sleep. 

    Keith:

    When you woke up you were surprisingly comfortable, tangled up in the sheets with Keith and head resting on his chest. You sat there for a second just listening to his heartbeat and steady breathing. Everything seemed just perfect until you realized just how thirsty you were. It was that kind of thirst that you could feel all the way to the back of your throat. It was bothering you more and more every second you sat there just dealing with it. You really didn’t want to get up, it broke your heart to leave your boyfriend as he was probably having one of the most peaceful sleeps he’s had in a while. But man, you were thirsty as hell and there was no way you could go back to sleep now. 

    You begrudgingly got out of bed, untangling yourself from the covers and from Keith. He looked so cute in his sleep so you quickly kissed his cheek before you made your way out into the hallway. The lights blinded you and you really regretted getting out of bed. But you had come this far so there was no way you were going back now. You zombied your way to the kitchen and managed to down two whole glasses of water before you heard someone running down the hall. 

    Sitting on the counter you just shrugged before downing another glass and setting it down beside you. A yawn escaped your lips and you could’ve sworn you heard someone calling your name. You listened again and you heard it call a second time, a little louder this time. It wasn’t hard to recognize and you almost hit yourself for thinking he wouldn’t notice you leaving. 

    “Keith…!” You beckoned from the kitchen. It wasn’t long before you could hear the taps of his feet as he made his way to you. He called out your name again when he entered the kitchen and you noticed how his expression turned from a scowl to a more relieved one. 

    “Wow, I didn’t think you would notice me gone for literally five minutes.” You said laughing a little.

    “I was worried something happened to you!” He defended himself. “You should’ve told me where you were going.”

    “I was gone for five minutes, Keith.” You said. 

    “Still…” He mumbled. “Just don’t do it again.”

    “Okaaaaay.” You drawled getting down from the counter. “You just looked so cute while you were sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you up!” 

    “Oh whatever.” He huffed. “Let’s go back to bed.”

    “Whatever you saaaay.” You laughed lightly, trailing after him and back to bed.

    Hunk:

    As much as you loved Hunk, he radiated nothing but heat when you two cuddled and while you were 100% okay with this you were really feeling the heat right about now. It was late, everyone was surely asleep by now which meant you could wander the castle in whatever gross sleep state you were in right now. Sweat collected on your back and forehead and you really needed to cool off right about now. You wiggled out of your lover’s grasp and hated to part him while he was so contently sleeping. But when you’re gross and sweating and extremely hot it literally feels like the worst. 

    You really preferred to be cold most of the time because it was really easy to just cuddle up with Hunk to get warm. It’s a whole different story for when your were hot though. When your feet touched the nice cool floor you really debated just laying on it for like an hour to properly cool off. But it didn’t really sound like something you had the patience for. A nice glass of water sounded way more appealing than just laying on the ground feeling like you’re dying. 

    So you stepped out into the hallways and absorbed the shock of the lights and nice cool air blowing over your body. Once you were done bathing in this new found bliss you headed down to the kitchen. It still smelled of whatever goodies Hunk had managed to cook up for dinner when you entered it. You smiled to yourself as you stood in the kitchen with a nice glass of water. 

    Closing your eyes you could’ve sworn you could fall asleep just standing up. However a warm voice pulled you from your sleepy stupor. 

    “Of course I would find my favorite person in my favorite place.” Hunk said entering the kitchen. You looked at him with surprise before breaking into a small smile.

    “Oh, what are you doing up?” You asked. 

    “I mean I woke up and you weren’t there suddenly. It’s just a little scary you know?” He said scratching the back of his neck. 

    “Sorry, I guess I should’ve woken you up then. I needed to cool off for a second.” You said sheepishly. “I’m done now though, so let’s go back to bed.”

    “Sounds good to me.” 

    The two of you walked back to bed, hand in hand humming a tune the both of you vaguely knew. It wasn’t long before you were back to cuddling and sweet dreams.

    Pidge:

    It was one of those rare occasions that Pidge was asleep next to you at a reasonable hour. You were very grateful to be blessed with this opportunity to finally cuddle your girlfriend after a long week of missions and helping out around the castle ship. Everything was perfect. Well, almost everything… You were sleeping so soundly that you managed to drool all over the pillow and now your mouth felt as dry as a desert. Dried spit didn’t taste too well and it really did bother you. 

    Pidge probably wouldn’t take too kindly to your gross slobber breath or the fact that you drooled all over the pillow. So you wiggled out of bed and flipped over the pillow to the dry side of it. Your first task was done so now you were one to accomplish the next. You stepped out into the bright ass hallway and instantly regretted it. You stumbled around like you were afflicted with some sort of illness. In fact, you took you the longest time to get used to these blinding lights. 

    You weren’t too fond of the lights in the hallway so you didn’t even bother turning on the lights in the kitchen. It seemed like a much better idea to just let the lights from the hallway filter into the kitchen. The darkness of the kitchen was comforting and it helped keep you groggy enough to be ready to fall back to sleep the second you got in bed. 

    As soon as you got your water you quickly downed it to re-hydrate your mouth. It was nice and refreshing, although a little cold making you shiver a bit. Turning on your heel you were about to head back to the room when you saw a figure in the door way. You let out a mixture of startled noises before realizing it was just Pidge. She started at you with a blank expression. 

    “Did you drool all over the pillow again?” She asked. You could practically feel your heart stop.

    “Nooo?” 

    “Y/n, you only get a glass of water after you drool in your sleep.” She added, completely trapping you.

    “Fine, you got me. I’ll wash the pillow case in the morning.” You admitted. “Why are you up anyways. You never come after me just for drooling on a pillow.”

    “It just scared me that you weren’t beside me while I slept like you always are.” She mumbled. “I had a bad dream.”

    You smiled and went to hug her from behind. She sniffled a bit and you squeezed her a little harder. 

    “You’re just the only one I have left.” 

    “Don’t worry, Pidge. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

    Unfaithful (Bill Skarsgård)

    Based upon: Waiting up for Bill but ending up passing out on the couch. He comes home early the next morning, only to find you asleep on the couch. He slept with another woman that night, and plans on breaking the news to you in the morning.

    It had been a pleasant day; work went well, plans were made for Saturday night and she had arrived home an hour earlier than usual. She would have the house to herself for the night, due to Bill’s plans with Alexander, so she decided to order in some takeout and watch a film or two. She had made him promise to be home around midnight because they had to get up early the next morning to drive to his father’s place for the day.

    It was two in the morning and he was not answering his cellphone. The sky was pitch black, lit only by the street lamps and passing cars of the people still awake, and it was pouring rain.

    She leant against the wooden frame of the window at the back of their apartment which looked over the water, wearing only her white slip. Her eyes watched the rain pound against the window glass before her, the droplets hitting in rough, arrhythmic beats. The weather could not have represented the difference in how she felt between twelve and two o'clock better. She fell into the foreboding, depressing haze; waiting for the impending disaster to unravel.

    She took a drag of her cigarette, then blew the wisps of smoke from her lips slowly. She had finally quit smoking just over a year ago, but the feeling of the roll-up between her lips and the smoke leisurely filling up the space around her was comforting. More than anything, it gave her something to do to keep her mind off of him.

    For another half hour she leaned against the window and stared at the water below while mindlessly going through cigarettes. Once she finished one she would stub it out in Bill’s dark blue ashtray and fish another out from his stash, pick up his silver lighter, light another and return her position against the window frame. This kept her busy.

    The rainfall never let up once, never slowed or never quickened it seemed, it only kept the same harsh pace. She watched as the raindrops hit the glass, stuck, then began to slip down the window slowly, only to be replaced again and again. She ran a finger down the glass, which was cool under her touch, and followed the rolling drops.

    Again, her gaze fixated on the powerfully lapping waves in the water below. “Bill…” She whispered absent-mindedly, not aware she had even muttered a word.

    She stubbed her last cigarette and sat down on their black leather sofa. It was clear that he was not coming home, but why, she did not know. It was too much for her to process anyways; she was tired, beginning to feel disoriented and utterly exhausted after a day in the office, so she let herself collapse against the plush, supple fabric. The second her eyes closed she fell into a deep slumber.


    It was five in the morning.

    Bill fit his key into the lock, turned the knob and pushed the door open slowly, as to not wake his girlfriend. The fact he could even consider her in his intoxicated state was a miracle to say the least.

    He shut the door and tossed his silver keys onto the kitchen counter. He rubbed his fingers against his tried eyes and pushed his hair back; he was hammered. However, the sight of his girlfriend passed out on the living room couch sobered him up immediately.

    She was sleeping on her side, head laying on the arm of the sofa and body curled into a fetal position. He knew then that she had tried to stay up for him, angry of course, but still waiting to see him. It felt like he had been stabbed in the heart; she had been waiting up for him while he was fucking some other woman.

    As he stepped closer to her, footsteps light as not to wake her, he noticed the pile of smoked cigarettes in his ashtray. His thoughts drifted to how happy she was when she finally stopped, how she felt free to do whatever she pleased and gloated about how she was going to live a longer life than him. He looked at the cigarettes and felt riddled with guilt; it was all his fault.

    Carefully, he pulled her unconscious body into his arms and lifted her up against his chest. He began to make his way to their bedroom.

    “Baby?” She asked incoherently, barely awake.

    “Sh, sleep.” He told her, entering their bedroom.

    She sluggishly squirmed in his arms. “I tried waiting for you.” She said drowsily.

    He gave her a sad smile. “I know, Baby.” He echoed, softly setting her down on top of their light grey sheets.

    She fell back asleep as he pulled the sheets over her cold body, making her subconsciously snuggle into the newly provided warmth.

    He stood and discarded his clothing onto the floor then slipped into bed beside her, turning his body to face her. His eyes went glassy and he knew he would not be able to sleep; this could be the last night he spent with her.


    The faint rays of the morning sun woke her at nine o'clock.

    Her eyes instantly snapped open and she turned to look at the other side of the bed; no Bill. Where had he gone? Was he not coming back?

    “Shit!” He said angrily from the kitchen, having had spilled freshly brewed coffee on his hand.

    She sat up and hurriedly pulled on some clothes for the day, knowing that they were going to be late to Stellan’s. After dressing in black slacks and a white button up blouse, she rushed into the kitchen, pulling on her high heels as she did so.

    “We’re already late. Are you ready to leave soon?” She asked, more worried about making a bad impression on his father than what happened the previous night.

    When he didn’t respond she looked up and saw his uncomfortable posture.

    “Bill?” She pressed.

    He ran his fingers through his light brown locks and bit his lip; this was the end.

    “I fucked up.”

    She shook her head. “Bill, it’s fine. Look, I would have preferred you coming home when you said you would or at least giving me a call, but it’s alright.” She explained.

    Nothing she said improved his expression, he still looked downtrodden.

    “Bill, don’t worry. Let’s just go to your dad’s place, okay?” She pleaded lightly.

    He set down his coffee mug, gripped the counter with both hands and took a deep breath. “I slept with someone.” He revealed.

    She was not ready for that.

    “You what?” She asked, voice venomous.

    His green eyes went glassy, knowing that she would never forgive him. It was the biggest mistake of his life, he regretted it more than anything.

    “I’m sorry.” Was all he could muster.

    Instantly, tears slipped from her eyes, running down her cheeks.

    He expected her to yell at him, tell him how horrible he was and how she could never do what he did. He was most afraid to hear her say that she hated him.

    Her reply was anything but expected.

    “Why?” Her face relaxed and the word came out simply.

    He held the counter tighter, “I… I don’t know.”

    “You’re telling me you slept with another woman… just because?” She wondered sarcastically.

    “No.”

    “Then we return to my original question. Why?” She repeated, eyes growing darker with hatred.

    His body, always held high, looked stiff and awkward as he stood before her. She had never seen him look less pulled together.

    “I…” He went silent. “I-” He stuttered.

    She strode past him, grabbing her keys from the counter and headed to the front door.

    “Babe!” He called, following her down the hallway.

    She did not turn to face him, she simply unlocked the door and pulled it open.

    “We’re done. You better be out of here before I come back.” She spat, looking over her shoulder.

    The look she gave him was unlike anything he had seen before, she had loved him and he had loved her.

    “Bill!” She squealed, a smile forming on her lips.

    He had pressed her back against the wall the second she shut her apartment door behind them.

    She flung her keys to the counter, hearing a soft ‘cling’ as they hit the granite, and met his lips. His large hand ran through her hair, curving to fit her head.

    Suddenly, he reached down and began to rid her of her wool jacket, moving on to rip off her blouse.

    “There’s no need to rush.” She teased playfully, grinning up at him.

    But there was.

    He slipped the scarf off his neck and shrugged off his coat, letting it fall to the ground before recapturing her lips.

    “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He breathed, his warm breath fanning her neck; just over where he had kissed her.

    He picked her up by her thighs and she slung her arms around his neck, pulling herself even closer to him. His lips hardly left hers as he took her to her bedroom, only to place her on her bed.

    She slid her pants down her legs while he lifted his t-shirt over his head. Leaning back on her elbows, she watched his fingers as he unbuckled his belt, tossed it on the floor and tugged off his pants.

    “And now you’re all mine.” He said deeply, lining himself up with her entrance.

    He kissed her as he pushed himself inside of her, eliciting a breathy moan from her throat.

    “All yours.” She promised, chest rising and falling heavily while adjusting to him.

    He took her smaller hands in his large ones and pushed them further up the bed, her arms straightening as he went.

    Finally, he rolled his hips against hers, causing her to clutch his hands fiercely.

    “All yours.” She repeated breathlessly.

    He looked down at his now girlfriend, mesmerized by how beautiful she was. He watched as she writhed with pleasure underneath him, feeling completely and wholeheartedly in love.

    He needed nothing else.

    It broke his heart.

    After she left, Bill stood in the hallway for ten minutes, staring at the door. He could not comprehend how his world was destroyed in just a few minutes.

    He wished he had never fucked the woman at the club.

    This Is War [11]

    Summary: After being rejected by your best friend Bucky, Sam sets you up with one of his friends, on the condition that if the date doesn’t go well, you have to sign up for a dating app. The date doesn’t go well. As you begin to look for love in other places, Bucky starts to feel something he never felt before. Jealous.

    Bucky Barnes X Reader

    Word Count: 1520

    Warnings: Angst. Maybe some language. Mentions of alcohol

    A/N: Haha.. Insert sweating emoji face here..

    Keep reading

    Confused

    Summary: Jimin + you = sex but you + jungkook are a couple so + confusion and + guilt + cheating but also + nastiness. sorry thats my best description lmao

    Type: SMUT. 18++++

    Length: 6.8 k

    A/N: My revised jimin smut so there would be no more confusion. i worked on the revised part in like 15 mins so sorry TT, i have a hoseok smut coming next so look out for that one! enjoy~

    Originally posted by jjks


    “Do you think he’d hate me?” Jimin’s voice was quiet, his fingers gripping the bottle of beer in his hand, he didn’t even look in Hoseok’s direction, only hearing a sigh from him.

    “He’d kill you.”

    Hoseok was right. Jimin didn’t answer him either way though. He opted to watch you instead.

    You were laughing, your arms wrapped around Jungkook’s waist as you both swayed to the light music at the party, your bottles of beer in hand as you twirled and spun. Your hair framed your face in the most inviting way, your hoops glinting in the light of the dorms, your dark red dress creating patterns in the wind, and Jimin frowned.

    Your body was clinging to the dress, and your lipstick was a little faded into a beautiful muted pink color, glittery eyelids and long eyelashes sparkled against your face as you and Jungkook danced around.

    Jimin watched, his mood turning more sour by the second.

    “I don’t care.” Jimin announced quietly, sulking and still not taking his gaze away from you. But Hoseok was gone and Jimin was left alone on the couch, his liquid courage lighting his fire as he chewed on his lip.

    Your curves, your hair, your skin, Jimin wanted to touch it all, he wanted to feel it under him, he wanted you to wrap your arms around him the same way you did for Jungkook.

    Jimin bit his lip harder, tasting a little blood.

    He watched as you pulled away from Jungkook for a moment, taking a swig of your drink, laughing at something Taehyung said that Jimin didn’t even bother to pick up. His focus was on you, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

    He didn’t want to. He wanted to stare at you forever.

    A slight resolve began to wash over Jimin’s face, a small plan that he didn’t want to acknowledge he was going through with set into motion, and he swallowed hard as he stared at your figure only a few feet away.

    “Jungkook-“ he began, his voice only low enough for himself to hear, gulping in his last drink of beer as he stood up, stretching his arms, “I hope you forgive me for tonight.”

    Keep reading

    Drunken Confessions

    Summary: Richie only confesses his feelings for Eddie when he’s drunk, leaving Eddie completely broken. What will he do when Richie calls him yet again one very late night. 

    A/N: My boys are 21/22 in this.

    Masterlist


    It took four rings before Eddie could find his phone. He fumbled in the dark, trying to pull the damn thing from its charger. Once that mission was accomplished her looked at the screen and verbally groaned. The goofy, obnoxious face of Richie Toizer looked back at him, mocking him in every way possible.

    With a heavy sigh he answered. His ears instantly rang with the loud music that blared through his speaker, he could only barely making out his friends voice. “What the fuck Rich! I can’t even hear you!” He bellowed angrily at the phone, looking over to his clock and took note of the very late hour.

    “Eds! Come get mmmeee!” A very drunken trashmouth yelled. His voice was strained and his words slurred together. “I can’t seem to find anyone and I wanna go home.”

    Eddie growled, “No. This is the fourth time this month, call someone else.”

    There was a hiccup from the other end and for a moment Eddie had thought Richie had dropped his phone, to his disgust his friend came back, even more pathetic than before. “I need you Eddie. Please.”

    Eddie squeezed his eyes, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach. “Eddie?” The voice whispered through the phone, the music becoming quieter and quieter. He wanted to say no, to ignore his friend’s plead for help but he was a sucker when it came to the infamous Richie Tozier.

    “Same place?” The words slipped past his teeth before he could catch them and he could immediately feel Richie’s smile through the phone.

    “You’re the best Eds.” Richie muttered from the other line.

    A burning blush crept up Eddie’s neck, the butterflies in his stomach suddenly awaking from their nights rest. He couldn’t help but grin like a schoolgirl, “I’m on my way, stay where you are Toizer.”

    It only took a few moments before he was ready, with keys in hand he left his room. The only light that illuminated the front room was from the television, the volume too low to make out the young woman’s words. Eddie felt his throat run dry, knowing what his roommate would say if he knew where he was going. The last thing he needed now was a lecture.

    Carefully he closed his door as to not to make a sound. His socks slid against the wooden floor, silently carrying him to the edge of the apartment. His body bent down to pick his shoes up from the front of the door, wanting to put them on in the car because it would be quitter. As he rose with shoes in hand his keys slipped through his fingers and clashed into the floor loudly.

    “Is that you Eddie?” A voice called from the living room couch.

    Eddie cringed, “Yeah Stan, it’s me.”

    There was a moment of silence between them before Stan rose form the sofa. His curly hair was matted awkwardly, and his baggy pajamas, that Eddie was sure actually belonged to Bill, hung from his hips loosely. Stan eyed his roommate suspiciously, his nose scrunching in judgment. “He called you drunk again didn’t he?”

    Eddie visibly flinched at the accusation, his gaze dropping in shame. “No, I just really wanted some food. You want me to pick you up something?”

    Stan shook his head, the lie hung in the air. He sucked in air violently through his teeth, his harsh stare never leaving the smaller boy. “It’s two in the morning Eddie. Nothing you eat is open.”

    “Fine he called.” Eddie confessed, letting out an aggravated sigh he dropped his shoes and slid them on. “I’m going to go get him.”

    “This is the fourth time this month Eddie, let him figure it out himself.”

    “I don’t want to get into this right now Stan.” Eddie bit, opening their front door. “He needs me.”

    “No he doesn’t.” Stan corrected, the harshness in his voice cut through his friend, leaving Eddie bleeding and hurt. “He’s using you Eddie, he doesn’t need you.”

    “He said-“

    “He always says things when he’s drunk. Don’t you remember what happened last time between you two? Did you forget what he did to you Eddie?” Stan hissed, his voice harsh and serious. “He only does this when he drinks, when he’s sober he couldn’t care less about-“

    “I know.” Eddie bit, unable to take the bitter truth that his friend’s words held. “I know alright? I’m not fucking stupid Stan.”

    Stan recoiled slightly, flinching as if he had been burned. “Then stay. Let him find another way home this time.” He replied gently, his voice void of the poison it once held. “Why do this to yourself again?”

    Eddie could feel the bubble of emotion that pushed against his chest. The thought of leaving Richie at the bar flashed through his mind and he cringed. He looked out to his beat up car and sighed, the truth slipping past his lips without grace, “Because I love him Stan. That’s why.”

    Whatever response his roommate had was immediately cut off by the door as it slammed shut between them.


    Eddie pulled in front of the bar and immediately noticed Richie. His chocolate colored hair was tainted red by the neon signs, his thick leather jacket hung off of his shoulders carelessly while his black nirvana t-shirt lay just beneath. Once he noticed the car Richie flashed his infectious smile, causing Eddie’s head to spin.

    “Eddie Spaghetti!!” He cooed, though the open window. “I was just-just thinking about you.”

    Eddie’s breath hitched, gulping down the lump in his throat he replied, “Get in loser.”

    The taller boy smiled. Opening the door he leaned in, taking his rightful seat on the passenger side. The stench of alcohol wafted into the small car, causing Eddie to nearly gag. Richie remained blissfully unaware, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. “You’re the best Eds. I knew I could count on you.”

    Eddie winced as he watched his friends head lull back and forth, the cancer stick barely hanging between his lips. He was out of it, completely and utterly wasted. Nothing was more dangerous to his sanity than an intoxicated Richie Toizer. As he pulled from the bar as the painful memory of their previous encounter began to burn in the back of his mind. It took all he had to force it back down into its rightful cage.

    “I’m going to take you to Beverly’s.” He announced as they pulled into the main street.

    Richie groaned loudly. “No, I just want to go back to your place like last time.” He pouted, poking Eddie in the side playfully. “You take such good care of me Eddie Spaghetti.”

    “Not this time Rich.” He replied sternly, “Beverly can take care of you.”

    “But I want you to take care of me.” Richie whined pathetically, “You’re always so sweet to me. Be sweet to me Eds, I love it when you are sweet.”

    Eddie sighed, Stan’s voice buzzing beside his ear. “No. I can’t do that this time.”

    “But whhhyyyy nnnooottt.” Richie moaned beside him. “We had such a fun time last time. Remember Eds? Remember when we-“

    “Stop.” Eddie croaked. “Just stop it Richie.”

    The trashmouth grumbled under his breath and Eddie ignored it, sure it was some slew of profanity directed towards him. Silence engulfed the two, the only sound being the wind as the sleeping city flew past them. Gently Richie reached over to his driver and slid his hand along the length of his thigh before resting his hand on his knee. Eddie opened his mouth to protest only to be halted by the feeling of Richie’s head against shoulder.

    God he hated how much he loved him.

    They pulled into Beverly’s drive twenty minutes later, the light in the house indicating that she had received his message. Eddie shook Richie’s shoulder. “Wake up, we’re here.”

    Richie groaned, “No. I don’t want to stay with her, can’t I just go back to your apartment with you? I promise I won’t make you mad again, I just want to be with you.”

    Eddie shook his head, feeling his chest tighten at his lavished request. “Your drunk Richie. Your drunk and you don’t mean any of this.”

    There was a whine that had escaped Richie’s throat, sending Eddies nerves on end. “Eddie, if this is about last time I didn’t mean to-“

    “Get out.” Eddie choked, his voice shaking slightly. “Get out of my car Richie.”

    “Eddie-“

    “Richie please, for the love of god, get out and go to Beverly because I can’t do this anymore.” He confessed, tears stinging his eyes. “Get out and lose my number.”

    Richie looked into his eyes and frowned. “Don’t cry, please I’m sorry, don’t cry Eds.” His drunken breath washed over Eddie causing him to become light headed. Slowly Richie’s hand rose to his friends face, erasing the tears that fell. Gently he leaned in, grazing his lips with his own.

    Eddie allowed this, he allowed Richie to kiss him, he allowed himself to taste the lingering alcohol and cigarettes that clung to his lips. His fingers entangled themselves into his friend’s lush locks, puling at his roots lovingly. Richie’s tongue traced his bottom lip playfully causing a spark to ignite inside of Eddie’s stomach. It was a passionate kiss, one that left the two breathless. As Richie pulled away he leaned his head against Eddie’s, sighing with satisfaction. “I love you Eddie.”

    Richie’s confession snapped the smaller boy back into reality forcing him to pull away from the one he loved, truth pressing itself onto his chest. “No you don’t Richie.” Eddie sobbed, “You only love me when your drunk and that doesn’t count.”

    “Eds I-“

    “Get out of my car.” Eddie whispered, staring at Richie’s muddled face. “Don’t call me again.”

    It took a moment but Richie obeyed the command, opening the car door and forcing himself to stand. He looked back to his friend, his eyes pleading for the forgiveness that Eddie couldn’t give. “I’m sorry.” He whispered before closing the door and walking up the drive.

    Beverly greeted him at the door, rubbing his back and pointing to something inside. She looked over to Eddie and frowned, her sadden look speaking volume. Eddie just waved politely before backing out of her drive, his heart pounding agonizingly against his ribs.

    He only made it two blocks before he was forced to pull over. Eddie Kaspbrak broke down on the side of the road, sobbing uncontrollably. Richie’s name fell from his lips like a prayer, and it filled the space around him making him feel physically sick. His heart ached for the only person he loved, and the only person he knew he would never have.

    It would take twenty minutes before he could drive on.

    Dirty Thoughts

    Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (mind reader)

    Warning: Language, smut… (I’m not sure how good this is. Work with me it’s only my second time writing it.)

    You swore when you joined the Avengers you would never invade their thoughts, but what happens when you get drunk at Tony’s birthday party and hear the things Bucky Barnes is thinking, about you?

    This was a request from @imagicana

    “Come on Y/N,” Tony trails after you as you continue your way down the hallway. “they have hidden secrets.” Tony pleads with you, hoping you’ll give in and use your gift to pick through the team’s minds.

    “Tony, I can’t pick through someone’s thoughts. I can only hear what they are thinking at the moment.” You remind him for the millionth time.

    “But it could be something so good. Call it a birthday gift.” He grins at you.

    Keep reading

    betsforsythetrash  asked:

    Alright Smut Queen, I'm gonna need a continuation of Bugheads make out scene but Betty is turned on by Jugheads new jacket, and maybe she ends up wearing it at some point??

    Ok, here it is - the long awaited continuation, I really hope it’s what you wanted. This scene actually ruined me because every time I’m like is this too far??? I just remember what we actually saw and I’m like nope! I’ve sinned, my friends, I’ve sinned.
    Warning: so much Bughead smut, all of the smut, a little feeling, but then more smut.

    You Build Me Up, Believer


    “I love you, Betty Cooper.”

    Every inch of her froze, the words echoing in her ears as a silence settled over the trailer. The world felt as if it moved in slow motion as she turned to look at him. His beanie had been thrown casually to the side, leaving his dark, untamed waves ruffled and free. His shoulders were hunched in slightly as if he was braced for impact. But his eyes… Betty had never seen eyes so earnest, so open and giving. 

    She took steady, paced out steps towards him, unable to keep the grin from spreading across her features. 

    “Jughead Jones,” she whispered, heart racing. “I love you.” She could see the weight lift from his body – she had never felt so light herself, as if this was the last thing that needed to be heard before they could give themselves to one another without interruption, without restraint. Jughead looked almost disbelieving, eyes shining in the dim light. He had never been more thankful for the existence of another human being. 

    His hands cupped her cheeks as he bent forwards, kissing her once, twice, letting her know just how grateful he was to have her, to call her his own. She inhaled deeply, pressing her body against the length of his front, fingers placed delicately against his neck. He pulled back to look at her, this beautiful creature in his arms. She was smiling back at him, eyes slightly hooded, lips beginning to swell. He grinned, dipping down to grip her behind and pull her into his arms, revelling in the squeal she let out that rang through the trailer. Her arms wrapped around his neck, steadying herself as she looked down at him, loose, golden waves shrouding them both as they fell over his shoulders. 

    Keep reading

    Get Some Rest

    A/N: Fluffy!Shawn below hehehe. This is my first time to ever post any writing to Tumblr, so I am EXTREMELY nervous. I apologize for the name (I suck at those). Thank you to everyone who has helped me edit and reedit this imagine 20 times. You are all so appreciated. I hope you like it. Feedback is appreciated.


     I stretch my arms out and turn over.

    Empty?

    I lay in the bed, and I could see the light was still on in the office down the hall.

    How long had I been asleep?

    I look at the clock. 3 a.m.

    Shawn had been working since about midnight on a melody he discovered earlier that day while playing around on his guitar. He wants the song to be perfect and that’s understandable, but this late?? I slide out of the bed and let out a troubled breath as my feet hit the cold floor. Walking down the hall quietly, there sits Shawn with his back turned to me. He’s still hard at work, strumming chords and scribbling incoherent thoughts on paper like he’s been doing for the past 2-3 hours. Standing behind him, I wrap my arms around his neck, kiss the top of his head before resting my chin on it. He places his warm hand on my arm and lowers his head to kiss my skin.

    “Hello darling, what are you doing awake so late?”

    He is concerned about my sleep which is sweet, but the boy has to get some rest of his own. He has spent many long nights in this office for the past week, and I was beginning to worry that he was overworking himself. He is obsessed with perfection, but he is in desperate need of a break.

    “I was sleeping until a bright ass light woke me up. I wonder who’s fault that may be,” I giggle in his ear, “it’s late and you really should get some sleep”.

    He laughed softly, “I’m so close though. Really babe, it’s all coming together so perfectly. Just listen”. His voice now sounding like an eager child. I comply and sink down beside him in the chair, and he smiles as he begins to play. He starts to play an euphonious tune. Of course everything he plays is beautiful but this was different. So raw and pure. I could see Shawn was proud of it because he couldn’t stop smiling as he strummed the chords slowly.

    “You’re right baby, it’s incredible. But why don’t you come to bed, and you can finish the rest tomorrow?” I suggest leaving a small kiss on his check.

    He actually looks at me for the first time since I had walked into the room and cracks a smile when notices I have on his big t-shirt. God, when he looks at me with that smile. That beautiful, bright smile that makes my heart flutter. That smile could break me at any moment. That smile, is mine.

    “Why are you looking at me like that, Mendes?”

    “Oh nothing,” he stops his gaze, “you have the most gorgeous bedhead is all. Very sexy”

    Letting out an embarrassing chuckle, I hit his chest as he winks, grabbing my wrist to pull me into his lap. He looks at the shirt I’m wearing again and raises his eyebrow.

    “Oh, so THAT’S where my favorite shirt went. I was beginning to think it grew legs and disappeared,” he puts his guitar down and pulls me into a tight embrace.

    He puts his head on my shoulder and lets out a soft sigh. He is tired, but he is too afraid to admit it. He wants to finish this song tonight, but he needs sleep. I reach up and start to run my fingers through his hair.

    “Come on love, let’s get some sleep. You can continue this in the morning”

    I get up and begin to pick of his papers that contained failed attempts at lyrics he had discarded throughout the room. He looks at me and opens his mouth as if to protest, but he finally gives in and starts to help me clean up the office. He put his important papers inside his laptop and closes it. Once we picked everything up, he put his guitar on the stand and we headed for our bedroom. I got into the bed and buried myself into the covers while Shawn got ready for bed. I giggled to myself as I could hear him humming his newly discovered tune as he brushed his teeth. He is such a goober, and I adore his cute little quirks. I am pulled out of my thoughts as I hear the water shut off and the door open. He’s just in his boxers. God, does he look sexy as ever. His defined abs and toned arms. I have to control myself. NONot tonight. He needs sleep. I try and remind myself. He gets into bed and cuddles up to my side.

    “Do did you really like what I have so far lyrically, darling?”

    Shawn loves getting feedback. It has always been something he has craved from the people close to him. He truly values my advice and it makes my heart flutter to know that he takes it into the utmost consideration.

    “Yes it was beautiful. It has a more edgy sound. Different from your other songs, but I honestly think it’s a good different. To me, it shows you’re really growing as an artist, and I am so proud of you. You work so hard, and it is really paying off for you, love. I just wish you wouldn’t work yourself so hard all of the time. It’s okay to take a rest sometimes. Some people would even consider it healthy,” I tease as I poke his nose. He scrunches his face at my touch and smirks.

    “I know baby, but I just want everything to be perfect, ya know? Even when I think I’m giving my all, I feel like I could still give more. So many people are relying on me and I don’t get a break just because I’m younger than the average artist. If anything, it makes me have to prove myself more to prove that I am meant to be ranked in the same category as bigger artist. But I do understand where you’re coming from, darling. I love you so much. I promise I will try and cut myself more slack”

    I smile and lean up to kiss him softly murmuring a soft “I love you” between us. I adore his ambition and passion so much. He is such a genuine person, and I am so thankful that he is mine, all mine. He wraps his arms around me and hugs me tight. Leaving a tender kiss on my forehead. He fingers then trail down my back and go underneath my shirt as he caresses the small of my back. His touch sending shivers down my spine. He was drawing shapes into my back as my eyes grew tired.

    “Are you ready to go to sleep yet, love? You really need some rest,” I yawn against his chest. He giggles at my words which were barely audible, but he got the gist. He leaves a lingering kiss my forehead one last time.

    “Are you positive that you’re tired though? There are so many other things we could to you know…” he says and I look up in disbelief and let out a chuckle at his words. This kid is actually suggesting this when it is almost 4 in the morning. Got to give him props for trying.

    “Shawn it is late and YOU should be asleep anyways. The whole reason I brought you to bed was for you to rest. Not for you to score. Not tonight, no sir. Ask me again in the morning and maybe you’ll get lucky,” I say as he lets out a soft laugh.

    “Alright alright, goodnight my love,” he buries his face into the blanket before whispering, “better make the morning worth my while then”

    I giggle as I slap his chest with my tiny hand.

    He gives me one last kiss before I snuggle into his warm body. I loved being close to him. We didn’t always get to share moments like this, so I cherished the few we had. I always feel at ease when I have him here with me. He felt like home, he was my home.

    Sick nights

    Summary: Shawn wasn’t feeling good and you stepped in to make sure he felt better.

    Requested: Yes (Can you write a Shawn imagine where he wakes you up in the middle of the night feeling really sick to his stomach and maybe he’s kinda upset about it and is scared to lay down because every time he lays down he feels like he’s going to throw up and you get him medicine and stuff to make him feel better and later in the night maybe he throws up while rushing to the bathroom and he’s super embarrassed because he didn’t make it to the toilet in time? Super fluffy!!!! Thanks love)

    Word count: 1.2k

    Warnings: none

    masterlist

    request


    You awoke to the blankets being pulled from your body. You rolled over to find them bunched around your boyfriend. “Shawn, baby, are you okay? This is the third time you’ve pulled the blankets from me tonight and you never do that.”

    A low muffled groan left his mouth and into his pillow. “I don’t feel good. My stomach hurts.”

    You sat up and turned on the lamp next to your side of the bed. Looking over, you saw Shawn curled up in all of the blankets and a look of discomfort resting on his face. You placed your wrist on his forehead to check his temperature. “Shawn, you’re burning up. And you’re covered in sweat. Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” You got out of bed and walked to his side, pulling him out of bed and taking him to the bathroom.

    Keep reading

    Supergirl AU

    Cat Grant knows her assistants are cheating, she just doesn’t know how yet.

    She even knows the exact date it started almost two years ago, when suddenly her constant stream of incompetent aides began to improve, to last longer. All her life her assistants have been barely adequate, but for some reason the last handful have gotten sharper and sharper. 

    It’s been three weeks with this new one and, while his performance within CatCo is lackluster at best, he has yet to make a single mistake with her coffee or food orders. And if there is one thing Cat values more than all else its what she consumes; she spends all day creating media for the consumption of millions so what she herself takes in is of the highest priority.

    This week she had a stress headache and she sent him off with a screech to get her some sustenance. Now she had very low expectations for this, so imagine her surprise when he comes back with a perfectly made bacon wrapped hamburger (her headache guilty pleasure) and a medium latte with just a dash of cinnamon. 

    There is no way on Earth that this Witt fellow should know about that. Her guilty pleasures are closely guarded secrets, and Cat Grant has never explicitly told anyone about her infatuation with bacon and cinnamon (both separate and together). And yet when she needed it the most, he just happens to get it exactly right. This assistant hasn’t even made it a month yet; there’s no way he knows this is a weakness of hers.

    Which means there’s a snitch somewhere feeding answers to her assistants.

    Keep reading

    3 Billion Dollars [Part 14] - G Dragon Mafia!AU

    Originally posted by jaime-mon-amour

    Summary: When your father owes 3 billion dollars to the mafia, he must repay his debt. Although things don’t exactly go the way he hoped.

    Genre: Fluffy

    Warnings: swearing, awkwardness, emotions

    {part 1} {part 2} {part 3} {part 4} {part 5} {part 6} {part 7} {part 8} {part 9} {part 10} {part 11} {part 12} {part 13} {part 14} {part 15} {part 16} {part 17} {part 18} {part 19} {part 20} {part 21} {part 22}

    Masterlist

    A/N: Sorry this is so late. Fair warning, next weeks will be too. Finals are starting next week so I’ll probably be writing a little less until summer starts. I hope you like this part! It’s extremely fluffy! Warning heavy stuff coming up! 

    ~ Admin Brooklyn

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

    Honestly, you almost passed out a few times. Not by seeing blood, but six hours of fixing up wounds and almost doing minor surgery right after the events of the day. Currently, you sat on one of the waiting chairs, just now noticing the blood staining a small part of the floor in the corner. Seungri had left at some point during those six hours. Which left Daesung, who was washing his hands. You close your eyes, beginning to drift away to sleep right then and there.

    “(Y/N), you okay?” Daesung asked. You open your eyes right away, nodding your head. You rubbed your eye with the back of your hand and sat up.

    “Yeah, just tired,” you say. You run a hand through your hair, your eyes already starting to close on their own. Daesung opened up his phone, scrolling through his messages.

    “Hey princess,” he said. You looked up at him. You leaned forward, your elbows resting on your knees. ”Do you think you could check up on Ji Yong Hyung?”

    Your eyes widen a bit, starting to feel very underprepared to see him. You open your mouth, about to say something. Only to shut your mouth and give him a small nod. Daesung gives you a very small smile and puts his phone away. “I know (Y/N), you guys need to work things out still. He’ll be easier to handle now than he was when you fixed him.”

    “I don’t really know what to say to him though,” you said quietly. You got up from the chair, running a hand through your hair. Daesung opens the door for you, letting you exit the infirmary before him.

    “Just say how you feel,” he says, smiling down at you. You shake your head, his smile cause a small one to form on your face. “Honestly, just tell him how you feel.”

    “Easier said than done Daesung,”

    “True,” he said, nodding his head. “Keep in mind that you do have years of friendship to help you.”

    “Yeah but-”

    “And,” Daesung said, cutting you off. “I really think you’re underestimating how much he cares about you.”

    Your gaze falls to the floor as you walk down the halls, thinking about what Daesung said. Ji Yong only likes you as a friend, right? Well, he hadn’t exactly said that he liked you more. But he did know about your predetermined marriage. Would that change the way he feels about you? He looks down at you and chuckles lightly. “Actually, I know you’re underestimating how much he cares about you. Trust me, if you ask him to move a mountain, he’ll ask which one you want and how fast he should be. He’ll do anything for you princess. That’s for sure.”


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    “Meet Me” Part Two

    It’s here! Part 2 is fluffy as ever :) Let me know what you think!

    Read Part 1 here!

    “The Living Room”

    Those words haunted your mind, echoing in your ears for moments after.

    “Love you.”

    The soft glow of string lights in your room hung around you as you sat on your bed, confused. It was as if your heart was beating too quickly or not at all. Time was frozen as you tried to make sense of his words and your feelings.

    The feelings that came on … suddenly

    How did you not see this coming? You and Harry had been roommates for a while now, and friends for even longer. People always said that friends of the opposite sex never stayed ‘just friends’ for long. Was that true? Were you falling for him? Your best friend?

    The invitation he’d extended earlier still lingered freshly in your mind, interrupting your rather pathetic attempts to sort out your newly discovered feelings. It felt awkward to stay in your room all night, it wasn’t even that late. And for all you know, those words could have been a complete figment of your imagination. 

    In a rush of confidence, you pushed off of your bed and walked over to your door which was still slightly cracked open from when Harry had last left. Taking a deep breath and willing yourself to calm down, you stepped into the dark hallway and padded off to the living room. 

    The TV was on softly in the background and as you made your way down the hall, you saw Harry’s lanky silhouette curled up on the couch. He wasn’t paying attention to whatever sitcom was on, and instead was looking disinterestedly at his phone. The floor creaked under your feet and he looked up suddenly, confused at first, and then his face broke into a warm grin.

    “Decided to come out after all, huh?” he spoke quietly, breaking the silence.

    Nodding your head, you answered, “It’s early, and I think eating something helped my stomach; I’m feeling much better.

    You slowly moved forward, trying not to trip over the rug that had curled up at the corner, and almost sat in the armchair halfway across the room. A soft ‘pat’ on the couch made you look up, and Harry had his hand on the cushion next to him. His eyes met yours after a second, holding your gaze. A rosy blush soon covered your cheeks, your face warm.

    It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to end up together on the couch late at night, trying to finish a movie (you’d made a list and were both slowly checking them off), so you were unsure of why you hesitated so much. Something just felt so different about this. 

    You were nervous.

    The butterflies only flapped their wings faster in your stomach as you swallowed, trying to sink the light-headed feeling that was rushing to your brain.

    “C’mere, y/n,” he said, patting his hand again, “S’jus’ me, I won’t bite.”

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    I Might Let You Kiss Me

    Request: Can you do one imagine where you and shawn are both neighbors and you watch eachother from your window (not in a creepy way ofc) and there is a lot of sexual tension but you supposedly hate one another which is not true (it’s exactly the opposite) and it turns out very fluffy

    can shawn also be kind of a bad boy plzzz (the shawn and y/n being neighbors request) 

    There’s like one swear word


    Originally posted by pickeringgod

    “Did you enjoy the show last night?” 

    You rolled your eyes, an inhaled slowly. Without even looking, you knew it was Shawn who spoke to you and is leaning on the locker beside yours. 

    “Hardly,” you answered him flatly.

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