#AND THAT DATE HAS BEEN ENGRAVED ON MY BRAIN FOR YEARS SO I DIDN’T EVEN NEED TO LOOK IT UP

[cuteniaarts]

In which Nia is making Hamilton fanart in 2023... this is a new low, even for me

THE HOLD this woman had on 13 year old me, you don’t get it, I was absolutely OBSESSED

I called myself the #1 Maria Reynolds stan, defender and apologist, read every single fic on Ao3, FF.Net AND Wattpad, spent days digging through every historical record available on the internet to find out everything there is to know about her, made a presentation about her for school... If you ever need a detailed biography which includes accurate dates, a map of where she lived during her lifetime, and the names of, among others, all her siblings, stepchildren, sons-in-law and great granddaughter, you know who to call

A.k.a: When Nia’s mental health is in the gutter, she turns to Broadway musicals to cope

[radiant-reid]

Remember Me

Summary: Spencer remembers lots of things but he manages to forget the day of love. However, he has a great way of making it up to his girlfriend.

could you do Spencer forgetting valentine's day and you can do fluff or smut ending 💜

A/n: thank you for this request ! this is part 3 in my 3 part Valentine's Day fic list

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Smut)

Content Warning: swearing | SMUT (R18)- oral (f and m receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex |

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist Navigation

One of the things Spencer prided himself on was the fact that he could remember everything. Everything he'd read at lightning pace, he could recall and repeat verbatim. It had helped him through school, and, as an adult, it helped with his job enormously.

His girlfriend of a year and a half was the person who he remembered the most about. Every single word they had spoken in the two years they'd known each other was engraved in his brain.

Y/n was yet to find something he didn't remember. All until he was on a prison consult in mid-February, too wrapped up in the details contained by a manilla folder to be thinking about his year and a half long relationship.

To start with, she thought he was planning something secret and deciding not to tell her, but when he came through their apartment door at 7 looking spent, she realized she might have visioned something that wasn't about to happen.

But he was there, placing his satchel on the chair with his hair a mess and shirt slightly scrunched like he'd slept on the jet, and she couldn't care about anything else.

"How was it?" She asked, getting up from the couch and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

Spencer rested his hands on her waist, pulling her body against his. For a moment, he held her there, breathing deeply. "Better now." He answered, pulling back and admiring her for a moment. Finally, the urge to do what he'd been thinking about all day took over, and he leaned down to kiss her.

She ran her fingers through his curls when they pulled apart. "My pretty boy." She cooed. "Is there anything you need?"

"Food." Spencer decided, sitting down on the couch before she sat on his lap, letting him nuzzle his head into her neck while he wrapped his arms around her body. "Maybe that Thai place."

"It's not open on Thursday's, though, bub." She reminded him, taking out her phone to scroll through Postmates and hope something took her fancy.

Spencer's head whipped around to look at her, frowning with so much concern it was rubbing off on her. "Isn't it Monday?" The 11th, which would still give him time to get her the gift he'd picked out for Valentine's Day.

With a light frown, Y/n shook her head. "Nope." She showed him the date on her phone as if he wouldn't believe her. "What's wrong?"

"It's Valentine's Day." He reminded her with a pout. The guilt was quickly sinking in, hitting him all at once and making him feel sick. God, he felt like the worst. His absolute favorite person didn't, at all, seem concerned he'd forgotten the day. "I-I didn't get you anything because I forgot. I'm so sorry, Y/n-"

A finger to his lips stopped him before he could spiral. "Shush, Spence. It's okay, I promise." She assured him, kissing his cheek.

Not really believing her, he threw his head back against the couch, looking both beautiful and upset. "Worst boyfriend ever." He mumbled, not even willing to look at her.

"No, don't say that." She sternly insisted, almost getting a laugh out of him, due to the fact she was rarely serious when it was just the two of them. "I don't want anything more than this, Spence. Just me and you here is so much more than enough."

"I'm just really sorry I forgot." He settled on, lips in a straight line and not a frown.

Y/n placed another kiss on his lips, making sure he knew it was okay. "Well, I didn't, but I think my gift might motivate you to make it up to me." She offered, smiling slyly at him.

He mustn't have understood because he frowned both at the statement and at the cunning look on her face. "What do you mean?"

Instead of giving him a verbal answer, she got up off his lap, crossing her arms over near the hem of the hoodie she was wearing and tugging it over her head. Then she took off her shorts, leaving both articles of clothing on the floor.

"Fuck." Spencer groaned, taking in the sight of her. A red lace lingerie set with satin straps that fitted her perfectly. "You're so... stunning." He settled on, reaching his hands out to touch her.

"Thanks," Y/n replied, putting her hands on his knee and leaning forward, so their faces were inches apart. His eyes were focused on where the bra cups sat on her chest, with his mouth slightly open and his mind spinning. "Eyes up here." She reminded him, grinning at the empty-headed look he already had. "So, you like it?"

Spencer gulped, his adam's apple bobbing. "Y-yeah."

She loved that she could still make him struggle for words. "Come on." Spencer leaned in to kiss her, something that she promptly dodged in favor of grabbing his hands and pulling him up.

Eagar, Spencer let her drag him to their bedroom, feeling much better about the fact he forgot Valentine's Day. She could feel his eyes roaming her body, making a shiver run down her spine in anticipation.

His lips quickly met hers as he took control of the situation, forcing her to react by shutting her eyes and kissing him back. She lightly moaned when she felt his hips roll against hers, and he ran a cold finger along the line of her bra strap.

Hurridly, she tried to unwork his tie, not letting her lips leave his for as long as possible. His hands came to hers, working with her to untie the tie. "We can go slow, sweetheart." He tried to calm her down.

Lightly, she shook her head, victoriously throwing the tie on the floor and getting to work unbuttoning his shirt. "We can go slow for the second round." She proposed. In agreement, Spencer took over from her and unbuttoned the rest of the buttons on his shirt while Y/n got to work unlooping his belt. "I've wanted to do this all day." She mentioned, palming the bulge in his pants with one hand while she unbuttoned and unzipped his pants with the other.

Before Spencer could stop her, not that he was about to, she was on her knees, enthusiastically waiting for him to step out of his pants and underwear. Even the sight was enough to make him groan, the red color perfectly complementing her skin tone.

Lovingly, he ran his thumb over her cheek before moving to scoop up her hair. "So pretty."

"Yeah." Y/n nodded, taking out his cock and pumping it lightly. "So pretty." That statement and a wink were enough to have him blushing bright red.

It really didn't take much to make him moan, and his head was already thrown back when she wrapped her lips around his tip and twirled her tongue around his head while she continued to pump the rest of his length.

"Shit, Y/n, feels so good." He whimpered, already needing more.

She could tell that much just from his voice and how strained it was. Instead of torturing him, she bobbed her head down as far on his length as she could take him, flatting her tongue out along the bottom of his cock.

Spencer's fingers tightened in her hair, and his breathing, or more like panting, was audible. She loved watching him like that, so blissed out his brain could rest from everything else.

Before he could cum, she pulled back, taking his hand when he offered it to pull her up. "I will never get sick of that," Spencer admitted, eliciting a laugh from her.

"I will never get sick of seeing you like that." She countered, kissing him on the lips a few times.

Spencer grabbed her waist, pushing her onto the bed while he slipped his tongue into her mouth. When she lay down, he kneeled in between her thighs and leaned down so he could kiss her.

He pulled his lips away from Y/n's, trailing his kisses down her neck, and she tangled her fingers through his curls. When he lightly bit down on her skin, she whimpered, turning into a moan as his tongue smoothed over what was sure to leave a mark.

When he reached her bra, he chose to tug the cups down until they were under her tits instead of taking the red fabric off. "Fuck." She pulled his head closer into her chest while he left marks all over her boobs.

"So beautiful," Spencer mumbled against her skin, hesitantly moving his kisses downward. Sitting up, Y/n took off her own bra while his mouth stopped at where her underwear rested. "Do I have to take these off?" He complained.

"Yes." Y/n giggled, wiggling her legs and lifting up her hips so he'd take the hint.

He kept considering what to do. "Looks so gorgeous, though."

"Pulling out all the synonyms tonight?" She joked, more turned on when he chuckled lowly. "But, seriously, do something. I'll wear this set again, I swear." She pleaded, trying to keep her tone level.

Spencer slipped a finger down to the crotch of her panties, feeling the dampness. After smirking at her, he put her out of her misery and took them off.

Not wasting time, his tongue was sliding through her folds, tasting as much of her wetness as he could. She was shrieking before she could help it when he slid his tongue into her, moving it as far into her as it could reach.

"So so good." She praised, engrossed in how good the texture of his tongue felt inside her. The compliment made him smirk against her center.

When her eyes slipped closed, she threw her head back, and Spencer slipped two fingers inside her. The surprise made her eyes open wide as she came face to face with how thrilled he was with her reaction.

He pumped his fingers in and out of her, trying to find the perfect angle to make her scream. When she did, he grinned more. "Found it." He bragged, hitting the same spot inside her each time and making her thrash around on the bed. "Want you to cum for me, pretty girl." He requested, earning a frantic nod from Y/n.

She knew she was close, but when he wrapped her lips around her clit, and flicked his tongue over it, she lost it, everything inside her tensing as she came.

"Fuck." She moaned for a moment after, laying back on the bed while she tried to catch her breath. "The was incredible."

Spencer leaned down again to kiss her. "Are you ready for more?" He offered, pumping his cock up and down near her entrance.

"Please," Y/n begged, her heart racing when he ran the tip of his cock through her folds.

Both of them moaned in tandem when Spencer slipped inside, bottoming out completely. It always took Y/n a minute to adjust to his length, and she nodded when he could start moving.

His pace was slightly slower than usual, keeping his cock deep inside her for longer, pressed so deep into her it knocked all the air out of her.

"Good?" He asked, leaning over her, so their foreheads were almost touching as he moved.

If her moans weren't enough, then the nod she gave him while trying to form a coherent sentence was proof she was enjoying it. "S-so fucking good, Spence." She replied, raising her hips up to meet his thrusts. "Really close." She warned.

"Mmhm." Spencer agreed, circling her clit with his thumb. Y/n looped an arm around her neck and pulled his lips down to meet her while he sloppily thrust into her.

With their lips resting against each other's, they came together, Spencer spilling inside her when she tensed around him.

Gently, he pulled out before flopping down on top of her with a sigh, totally fulfilled. Y/n wrapped her arms around his waist, nuzzling her head into his chest.

"Should we get pizza?" He offered, only realizing how hungry he was after the little workout.

Y/n pulled back with a giggle. "That's what you're thinking about?" She asked, kissing all over his face.

With a light chuckle, he nodded. "I was hungry before, but you wanted to jump me."

She slapped him on the chest, her hand staying there to draw over his skin. "Don't act like you didn't enjoy it."

"I did," Spencer confirmed. "Very, very much."

After another kiss, Y/n pushed him off and sat up. "You can order it?" She requested, flashing him a hopeful smile as she picked up his pants from the floor with his phone in the pocket.

"It's the least I can do." Spencer agreed, the clothing landing on the bed next to him. He rummaged for the phone, taking it out and making the call.

Apparently, it wasn't a super common choice on Valentine's Day because it arrived pretty soon, and they were eating in bed with a movie on the TV, as cozy as possible.

"This is the perfect Valentine's Day," Y/n commented, feeling filled with warmth just by being near to him. Her legs were tangled in his as they both sat against the headboard, more fixed on each other than the movie.

Spencer lightly kissed her, pulling away with a smile. "I'm getting you your gift tomorrow." He assured her.

Y/n shook her head. "You don't need to."

"I want to." He corrected her, taking another bite of his slide.

"You don't have anything clever to tell me about Valentine's Day." She prompted, adoring the facts he'd starved her of.

Spencer clenched his teeth. "The origins of the day are not particularly nice." He warned her.

"If you're talking, I don't care." She assured him, resting her head on his shoulder as she inched even closer.

"Well, it's thought to be based on the Roman purification festival of Lupercalia, which was where young women got whipped by naked young men." He informed her like he was reading a Wikipedia page.

Y/n scoffed out a chuckle. "Sounds like it could be an unsub."

"It was to make them more fertile." He added, making her shake her head about how strange people could be. "Definitely unsub behavior. Then it turned into the cult of third-century Roman Christian Saint Valentine who was decapitated under Emperor Claudius instruction for secretly performing weddings."

"Unsub behavior." She singsonged, eliciting giggles from him, which made her laugh every time without fail.

Spencer could remember everything about where Valentine's Day and how to prompt maximum pleasure inside her. Even if he forgot one stupid date founded on a bizarre story.

Tell me what you think

Taglist

Join here

@anonymous-reading @bingereid @measure-in-pain @archer561 @la-vie-en-amour1 @cynbx @spencers-dria @hardpartybasketballshepherd @ilovespencerreidmarryme @mrsobrien888 @parahmur @averyhotchner @honkroselyn @randomwriter1021 @bunnyweasley23 @rebeccasoutlook @teenwaywardasgardian @bubb1eana1ee @icequeen6666 @are-y0u-sirius @psychomanias @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @jswessie187 @k-gallacher @morganwilliams @vaella1821 @ndubes04 @juneballoon999 @tiaras-amongst-trash @onceinadifferentdimension @criminal-reid @yikesyikesyikes95 @80strashbag @ilovespencerreidmarryme @citylights31 @ssavanessa22 @thedancingnerdmermaid @doctorspenceryeet @camreid @canadailluminate @lethpartridge @ssagube @spencerreid-mgg @nightlockcornucopia @allexthakatt @silverhetdanes @aperrywilliams @g-l-pierce @reidswhoree @beepbooptoop @silverhetdanes @kyanyakya @katiejozeisler @matthewwhore @megnotfound @80strashbag @mrsobrien888 @morganwilliams  @j-cat @440mxs-wife @hueycat2004 @gspenc  @icurasthefallenangel @iheartspence @ssavanessa22 @bisexual-virgin @thecraziestcrayon @katesreading @cance1medaddy @kuolonsyoja @alexlovescriminalminds @kahootlobbymusic @nomajdetective @idonotexiste @drayshadow @justalittleweirdoo @a-little-bit-of-everything19 @spencesscarf @lhhluvr @holding-on-to-my-youth @averyhotchner @mugi-chwan95 @gspenc @navs-bhat @idkbubs @mochionly  @nessy-nygma @nani-2305 @casfellinlovewithhumanity @shinyanchorface @nbyrd390 @drayshadow @hot-dino-nuggies @averyhotchner @simonsbluee @collectiveuniverses @meggie-m00n @allthecolorsneverseen @sassymoon @nomajdetective @exmachina187 @exhaleli @lucymfer @stumbleonmywords @reeid @hopefullawyerfishprofessor @graktung @sir1usblacksgf @pinkcoffeecup  @luckyladycreator2 @fairyellieee @malboroniightz @kateyee @corefleur @maybe-not-this @starrylang @citylights31 @baby-bi-bi-bi-yeah @ssa-uglywhore27 @kitkatkaitin @rocketxgirl @navs-bhat @bellarkeselection @strugglingtodoshit @joy-soul-gallery @venomsvl @harry-is-my-sunflower @luckyladycreator2 @egglantine23 @holding-on-to-my-youth @misselsbells06 @starrylang @lokisel @gryffi-ndor @lilibet261@idkbubs @slutalexis46 @glimmering-darling-dolly @kodiakwhiskey @rocketxgirl @mochionly @goldentournesol @xdsage @missusstark @spaceygirly1 @holding-on-to-my-youth @insomniacbeth @nbyrd390 @shirleyrose @airedale17  @tanyaherondale @buckys-estrella @geekykeen @lovingsherlockmolly @rory-cakes @muwun-blossom @jetblckdreams @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @reidsbookmark @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @idfvc @sammypotato67 @tanyaherondale @1-800-brain-and-heart @stcrrjoon @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @wholesome-beans @frickin-bats @chaoticevilbakugo @goldeng1rl8 @arrowurboat @itzyourgurlnihya @belongwithreid @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @spencer-reids-mismatched-socks @addievermore  @harrymybelovedd @chimpmunk @i3k2ts @axen-gers @gxrlwithluv @finny-of-the-rear @greengarsstuff @altsvu @jakiki94 @narryl0ver @justreadingficsdontmindme @hobireasns @goldentournesol @kbakery @kaitieskidmore1 @twofacesoftheworldbutnotsome @chaoticconnoisseurgiver @kbakery @twofacesoftheworldbutnotsome @geekykeen @thisbitch-6 @andreead @kayleea122 @xoxospencerreid @dirtytissuebox @xoxospencerreid @jaydahlynne @sultrypotter @awhoreforspencerreid @happymangospot @devilslilbabysblog    / @bunny-script    / @pauline5525mgg @fanf1ctionwrit1n @j-cat @captainhotchner @ceeellewrites / @randommmguerr / @sinnxagain / @goofygubler7 / @alotdreamers​  @reidsbookclub @gublerstwilight @k-k0129 @spookyspence @eevee0722 @iamreallytryingiswear @dontcallmekittens @gublur @countingthestarsinfinitely @xhopingthis-worksx @claryandjacelover @spencersjello @mikewizkalifa @actingchica @almost-a-ladybug @foodsarcasmandyou @illegallygingerr @darkacademicwhore @uhuhuh @alexxavicry @probablycryingg @awkwardnesshabitat @black-veil-baby @uwu-queen-420  @one-sweet-gubler @whovianayesha @buckys-doll17 @gubedawnreid @parahmur @whovianayesha @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @kierstiniscrying @simonsnowsblog @usuck @geekykeen @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @sexy-dumpster-fire @j4sephluv @sophneedsfandoms @asantos7783 @hotchandspencearedilfs  @kitkatkaitin @allthingsfashionn @spideyjass @sammypotato67 @dimpledsmilex3 @vincentvanshoe @nervous-plant @safespacespence @agirlinherhead @maraudersminds @hopelesslystuc @bakugouswh0r3 @ilovespencerreidmarryme  @elnmop @ah-blossom @bellam47 @matthewgraygublerlover @liltiana-ann @happypixy380 @aaija @arrowurboat @reidsonlyangel @xreaderandshits @alohastitch0626 @nyx2021 @assemblemotherfuckers @idjit-sonovawitch @hwngslove @nycreid @helen-with-an-a @sydneekomspacekru

[quindolyn]

Hey I was wondering if you could write a sub!regulus X Dom!fem reader fic?

One where it’s angsty as Regulus had been acting different around the reader, and eventually after being questioned about it alone, Regulus breaks down and admitting his parents forced him to get the dark mark (there was nothing he could do about it), and the reader comforts him while they fuck. Regulus had been through a lot and the reader wants him to know that they love him.

Including: praise kink, subspace regulus, scar/mark kissing, aftercare for regulus, riding, and anything else you think would suit this situation <3

Resilience || Regulus Black

Word Count: 6154

A/N: Do I hate this? Yes, most definitely, without a doubt. Did I only proof read 5/15 pages. Yes, again, certainly. But I'm tired and I'm with my friend so it's not gonna get better than this. I love you all and hope you enjoy it

warnings: pretty much included in the ask, can't really think of anything else

Being light on your feet it doesn’t appear as though Regulus notices you tip toeing your way across the Slytherin common room. As you come up behind him you peer over his shoulder; he has his legs tucked beneath him with what appears to be his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook resting in his lap. Standing over his shoulder you let your eyes scan across the pages laid open and what you first believed to be a chapter on counter curses you realized was actually detailing how to cast the curse.

Realizing what you’d just read you let out a small, involuntary gasp that catches the attention of the boy sitting in front of you.

“(Y/N)!” Regulus quickly exclaims, glancing over his shoulder before slamming the book closed and sliding it into his book bag which sits next to him on the plush, green velvet sofa.

“What was that Reg?” You ask, brow furrowed as your eyes lock onto Regulus’ grey ones.

“Just a book love, that’s all.”

“Your Defense textbook?” You ask, hoping he would slide it back out of his satchel to show you the familiar scarlet cover you’d scratched your initials into on the bottom right hand corner.

“Something of the sort,” He answers vaguely, pushing himself off the couch to face you. Instead of making his way around the couch to meet you he stayed on the other side of the piece of furniture. Feet planted, hands fiddling with each other while instead of making eye contact with you his gaze seemed to be directed just past your right ear.

“Don’t lie to me Regulus,” Your voice is clipped, when you’d come to check in on Regulus after he’d come home from winter break at his dreaded family’s house this wasn’t what you had expected.

Regardless, it was what you’re met with, “What the hell is that book?”

Your voice jumps and you can hear the panic rising in it. Regulus had spent the weeks up to his departure date dreading the time he would have to spend at the Black Mansion. You’d stayed up countless nights, wishing you could somehow keep him from having to go to that hellish house but when it came down to it there was nothing either of you could do.

Finding him pouring over some dark arts book the first time you saw him after nearly two weeks apart wasn’t exactly the reunion you’d been picturing in your head. Nor was it comforting.

You can barely make it out but you believe you hear him whimper something about “it’s nothing” as his gaze drops from just over your shoulder to his toes.

You two stand there for a minute, then two, each waiting for the other to say something, anything to break the tension currently hanging heavy over the room. Regulus silently begging you to let it go, to leave the room and give him some time to stash the book before coming to find you to act as though nothing had happened and it was all fine.

Unwilling to yield, you hold your ground, maintaining your silence while your eyes bore into the top of his head, awaiting his explanation as to what you’d walked into.

You’re the one to finally break the silence.

“If it's nothing, then I’d like to see it Regulus.” It's the second time in the span of five minutes you opt for his full name instead of one of the nicknames coined by his brother, who he’d recently mended things with, and made popular by yourself. You knew it would strike a cord for him but you were scared, you were on the offensive.

With a deep sigh Regulus retrieves his bag from the spot it’d fallen to on the floor, pulling the book from the bag, bound in emerald green, Regulus hold it both far from his body and with a surprisingly tight hold, somehow both wanting it as far from him as possible and not wanting it to leave his grasp.

Though visibly ancient the book appears to be in remarkable condition, engraved on the front cover in gold leaf reads “Mendel's Most Malicious Curses”.

Studying the cover you don’t recognize the book’s title but based on what you’d glimpsed inside of its pages you hadn’t expected to. Even as a fifth year you doubt this would ever be included in O.W.L. curriculum.

Despite knowing better you can’t help but feel a strange, strong attraction to the book, an overwhelming urge consuming you to take that book. Your fingers itch at your sides as you imagine getting your hands on the book, wondering how hard Regulus would fight before relinquishing it from his grasp.

Somewhere in your subconscious you register that these thoughts are not organically your own, that somehow that book is influencing you and that in reality you want nothing to do with it. Frightened thoughts simmer at the back of your mind but they are lost in the shadows of your curiosity regarding the secrets that lie beneath the ornate designs swirling over the cover.

Expectantly you extend your arm, a nonverbal signal for Regulus to hand you the book but your movement throws him into action and has him clutching it close to his chest, both arms cradling the text.

“No no no no no,” He chants frantically, shaking his head as though to shake off the thought of relinquishing the book to you. “I can’t give you this (Y/N),” He swallowed deeply, shining silver eyes seaking out yours, ablaze with conviction.

“And why’s that?” You challenge with a raise of your brow.

Inhaling deeply he seems to be bracing himself to respond, “Because you’re a muggle born, it’s not meant for you to touch.”

You can feel rage bubbling up in your stomach, threatening to spill out your mouth in a flurry of angry words admonishing Reg for his remarks, “What? Is my simple muggle born mind not worthy enough to read words in that precious little pureblood book of yours? Do I need my pedigree intact to understand what it says? Not meant for mutts, is that it?”

You thought you were past this, you thought you’d left the aloof little third year you’d first met who’d called you a mudblood and asked you to move to a different table in the library because he didn’t want you looking at his charms homework behind.

Had the past year and a half of apologies and growth on Regulus’ part all been a lie? Was that hate not as small a part of your boyfriend as you’d thought? Did it really only take just shy of two weeks back with his biggoted relatives for him to start spewing this pureblood nonsense again?

Bouncing around in your head those questions overwhelm you as you try to ignore the most pressing one, pushing at the forefront of your mind.

Does he even love you?

“B-because you’re not a pureblood, this book (Y/N), it can’t be held by anyone not of pureblood,” Reg’s shaking voice broke through the flurry of questions wreaking chaos in your mind.

“God damn it Regulus! I thought we were past this! I thought-”

“It’ll kill you (Y/N)!” His voice is frantic and you pick up on the tears welling in the corners of his eyes, threatening to leak over.

Those words that seemed to carry a fatality in themselves cleared away the din clouding your mind, everything went silent. Too silent even as the implication of those words wash over you.

That book may as well be a gun, cocked and being held steady at your temple as you feel tears of your own begin to well in your eyes, distorting your vision.

The mess of questions doesn’t return to your mind, instead they begin thumping one by one at the base of your brain though they all carry through the same theme.

How could he have brought that near you?

“Kill me?” You curse yourself for how obvious your voice is shaking but the book that just moments earlier you were dying to get your hand on seems to have cast an oppressive air over the room and has you recoiling away from your boyfriend.

Regulus nods, holding eye contact with you as he slips the book back into his bag, sliding it under the sofa before cautiously striding towards you.

“That's why I can’t give it to you to look at, it's cursed and if you so much as bump it you’ll…” His voice trails off, the words too terrible to speak aloud.

Your arms wrap around yourself, clutching as hard as they can as you fight to wrangle your thoughts under control. His response revealed to you that he doesn’t intend to hurt you, not with the book anyways which has dozens of other worries popping up in your head. You’re desperate for answers as to what happened to Regulus at his house. He seems ready to give them to you as he offers to take you back to his dorm away from any prying eyes or ears that may lurk about in the Slytherin common room.

You’d both agreed to arrive back at school two days early hoping to get some alone time in but that didn’t mean that the castle was empty and that anyone couldn’t walk into his common room at any moment.

You stall as he lets you into his dorm, you’ve been there a thousand times, often under the mask of night but your usual spot, atop his always made perfectly bed, seems wrong now. Without answers to your countless questions the entire room feels foregin to you and leaves you standing by his desk, not quite leaning against it but also not quite supporting your own weight.

Regulus seems equally awkward but eventually settles on his bed, perched precariously on the edge of the mattress, he barely looks comfortable.

You stay there so long in silence that after a while your breathing syncs, the singular sound becoming the only noise in the drafty room.

Long after it becomes clear Regulus isn’t going to speak first and you finally tire of the silence you find your voice, somewhere deep inside of you summoning the words to your most pressing worry; “What happened at your house Regulus? What did they do to you?”

Your words have him crumbling, your usually stoic boy folding in on himself until he is but a ball hanging off the bed.

You hesitate for a single second before you’re racing towards him, dropping before him at his knees to cup his face in your palms. Directing his visage upwards to meet yours you feel your heart wrench in your chest as you take in his puffy, red eyes, red nose and flushed cheeks already marred with twin trails of salty tears cascading down his face.

“Regulus,” You choke out feeling tears from earlier resurface as you push yourself off the ground to take your place next to the scared boy beside you.

Pulling him into your lap as much as his size permits you too you take great care in cradling his head, clutching him to your chest as your rock gently back and forth humming into his hairline in hopes to calm his sobs. Raw and ragged they each tear at the fragile, brave exterior you’ve erected in hopes of comforting the boy, giving him something solid to hold onto.

Whispering sweet nothings into his ear you feel him melt into your touch, slowly the breathing becomes stronger and his sobs quiet to weak sniffles swallowed by the occasional gulp.

Feeling him shift under your touch you can tell he’s working himself up to something, he always gets fidgety when he’s trying to summon the courage to do something hard, his movement triggers a memory.

It floods through your mind as you’re reminded of a similarly terrified Regulus, knees bumping against the table at breakfast one lazy Sunday as he repeatedly bounced them, seemingly unable to sit still. He’d spent weeks working himself up to speaking to his brother for the first time in far too long.

The memory of him being so strong and brave even as the entirety of the Great Hall tracked his movement from the Slytherin table to the Gryffindor had you drawing a deep breath. The strength the memory provides you has you summoning the breath to prompt Regulus into some sort of explanation, anything.

“Reggie, your mother gave you that book didn’t she?”

He goes still at your words and even involuntary actions seem to still, his lungs draw no breath and his pulse seems to fade away under your touch.

“Bellatrix,” His voice is hoarse from crying, “Her idea of a Christmas gift.”

“That bitch,” You spit.

“Walburga’s was worse.”

You pause at the mention of her name, there is no doubt in your mind that he is the one who’s actions have sent Regulus into this downward spiral of despair and fear. You’re not even sure if you wanna hear what he has to stay but what you want stopped being important a long time ago.

“Do you wanna show me Reg?” You ask, breathless.

“No,” Comes his meak voice, “But I need to.”

You nod understandingly as you regrettably allow him to slip from your grasp so he can turn to face you, one leg tucked under his bum and the other hanging over the edge of the bed.

His eyes are downcast before he peaks them up through thick, dark lashes to meet your gaze, “Do you promise not to hate me (Y/N/N)? I don’t know if I can do this if you hate me.”

Your brows are drawn together as your response comes emphatically, “I could never hate you Regulus, I could never and I will never.”

“You can’t make that promise,” He says through a watery chuckle, leaving you wondering where the hilarity in the situation was. “I shouldn’t have asked you to.”

“Regulus,” You latched onto his hand before he could turn away from you, “I am incapable of hating you my love, please. Tell me what happened.”

Silver eyes locked with yours as though they would reveal the solidity of your promise. You’re not sure what answer he found in them but regardless he broke your gaze as he snuck his hand out of yours.

You watch as he slowly rolls up his sleeve and an idea as to what he’s going to show you begins to form and you find yourself regretting ever demanding to know what’s going on. You quickly shove those thoughts back down, there's no use in even entertaining them, ignoring your problems won’t make them go away.

Your worst fears are confirmed as Regulus rolls the sleeve of his black sweater to reveal swirling black ink sunk deep into his skin. Even just by looking at it you could feel the permanence of the ink, the meaning behind it causing a chill to shoot through your bones.

In the back of your head this had always been a possibility but not one you’d ever truly considered. You always thought that you would be able to get yourself and Reg away from everyone, from everything. Blood purity, the ministry, his family.

You were going to get out and you’d thought you’d have plenty of time, half way through his fifth year neither of you ever expected him to be forced to take the Dark Mark before his eighteenth birthday.

You were supposed to have until his eighteenth birthday.

Staring at the ink that seemed to pulse with life against the pale white of Regulus’ skin you suppose that it doesn’t really matter what you were supposed to have, what was supposed to happen. Regulus has taken the dark mark.

Godric, Regulus has taken the dark mark.

“Y-Your mother did this to you?” Your voice wobbles, anger, confusion, and terror evident in your voice, each betraying the strong front you’re trying to keep up for Regulus.

“She came for me in the middle of the night, (Y/N/N). First time I’ve ever been woken by her instead of Sirius or a house elf and she forced me up, made me get dressed before taking me downstairs and they were all there,” His voice cracks as a silent sob racks his body, you can only imagine how difficult it must be to relive the horrific events of that night. Hoping to provide him with any sort of comfort you inch closer to him, throwing your arm around his shoulder allowing him to rest his head on yours before continuing.

“They were all there (Y/N), not just her and Father. Bellatrix, Cissa and her husband, the Lestranges,” He pauses to swallow, “ And him. He was there.”

Regulus needn’t clarify who “he” was. The idea that he had even been near Regulus made you sick to your stomach and you could feel the distinct sensation of bile rising tickle at the back of your throat.

“Shhh, it's okay Reg,” You soothe, tightening your grip on him as sobs shake his body, “It’s going to be okay Red we’re going to figure this out.”

“He did this to me,” He sobs as he shakes in your lap, letting the enormity of his circumstances finally sink in after suppressing it for the past week, the fear of your response keeping him occupied.

To say you aren’t scared would be a lie, you’re fucking terrified but holding Regulus’ trembling form you know that this decision was not his. He would never swear allegiance to a group hell bent on destroying you and people like you, a few years ago maybe but not today. Not the Regulus you’d come to love, even if it began despite yourself.

Without hesitation you reach out, wrapping your hand around the skin now stained by dark magic.

Regulus let’s out a hiss at your touch and you feel him tense under your hand, afraid you’ve hurt him you start to pull away, “Does that hurt Reg?” You ask warily.

“Yes,” He spits out through gritted teeth, “But don’t let go please,” He pleads, raising his gaze to meet yours, “Please don’t let go.”

“Not gonna let go,” You promise, keeping your hold on his forearm tight.

Dipping your fingers under the strong bone of his mandible you turn his visage upwards to meet yours, heart breaking at the sadness and pain swimming in those beautiful grey eyes of his. Slowly you lean in before your eyelashes are brushing against the soft skin of his cheeks and your eyes flutter closed as you watch his do the same.

Your lips brush each other’s gently as your hand cups the side of his face, giving you complete control of the kiss as you keep the swipes of your lips light, you can just barely make out the taste of the pomegranate lip balm you’d given him as a part of your holiday gift to him.

“I didn’t wanna take it (Y/N/N),” He sniffles against your lips, “I don’t wanna be a Death Eater, I don’t wanna hurt you.” The sincerity in his voice has more tears welling in your eyes, you just can’t bear to see your beautiful boy in so much pain.

“Oh I know you don’t bubba I know,” You calm him, throwing a leg over to the other side of his lap so that you can perch yourself atop the hard smooth surface of his thighs. Gently pressing kisses along the canvas of his face you feel his arms wrap around your waist and the tips of fingers graze against your ass as his hands hover above it.

“Can I touch you please?” His words are barely audible but his desperation is loud and clear.

You grant permission as you lean forward to capture his lips in another kiss, this one more passionate than the last. Posing little, if any, challenge before letting your tongue delve into his mouth, quickly claiming dominance over his as you feel his palms clutch the globes of your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he holds onto you as tight as possible.

With care you slowly guide him onto his back as your lips trail from his down the column of his throat, in your journey down you leave sloppy hickeys along the delicate skin of his neck. Pulling away slightly you smile to see the various shades of purple and blue painted along his pretty ivory skin.

You know you’re going to have a real conversation about this later, what it means, what the two of you are ready to do about it but right now all you can think about is how you can make your pretty boy feel better, how you can show him that your love for him hasn’t changed. And there’s one way you know how to do that best.

“Do you want me to make you feel good Reggie?” You whisper against his skin as your lips ghost over his collar bone, drinking in his scent.

“Please,” He whimpers, “Need you.”

That’s all you need to hear before your hands are delving under the hem of Reg’s sweater, hands sliding against the smooth planes of his abs, your hands gliding over the occasional ridge of a long healed scar.

Sliding the hem up all the way to his collarbone you look down to see the beautiful lines of his chest and stomach. The scars you’ve become used to seeing a dark but faded pink now shine an almost brilliant purple as though the dark magic imprinted upon his arm had somehow interfered with scars caused by Walburga, most of them when he was much younger. You know for a fact that there are more ones on his back, deeper and darker from taking longer to heal.

“Come on pretty boy,” You coach, propping him up so that you can slip the soft sweater over his head before discarding it over your shoulder, “There we go, that’s a good boy.”

He lets out a low whine at your praising words as his hips thrust up towards yours which are perched directly atop them.

While removing your own sweater you smile, realizing it’s actually one of Regulus’ old Quidditch jumpers from the year prior. With no bra beneath your top your tits are left bare for Regulus’ viewing. His eyes gloss over as lust creeps into the stormy grey of his irises, they’re locked on your tits as though they’re the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

“Do these hurt more than normal baby?” You ask as your fingertips graze over the raised scars on his chest, if the dark magic of the dark mark made his scars more sensitive you wanna be careful not to hurt him.

“A little.”

Frowning you lean down to press your lips against the puckered scars, your kisses light and fleeting as you trace the dark lines with your lips.

Dancing from one scar to another you hear him exhale deeply and the tension seems to be slowly leaving his body as he settles into the mattress and he becomes malleable under your touch.

“You’re so beautiful Reg,” You praise against his scarred skin, needing him to understand just how much you love him.

“I love you so much,” You look up through your lashes to see Regulus’ eyes already locked on your body.

“I love you too.”

With that your lips are ceasing his once more as you feel the overwhelming need to comfort your boy. Gently, you grind your hips up against his as you become lost in the kiss, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours before you feel a familiar bulge pressing on you.

Your hand ventures back down the hard muscle of his stomach before you bump against the bulge of his erection, straining against the soft material of his sweatpants. You palm gently over his cock as your face buries itself in the crook of his neck, giving him sweet, light kisses while teasing his throbbing member.

“Please,” Comes his choked pleas at being teased, “Please, need more.”

“Of course pretty boy,” You promise as you lift yourself off of him, giving him one last kiss at the waistband of his sweatpants before helping him ease off his bottoms and boxers.

Once he’s devoid of all clothing you too strip down so that you’re both bare naked, your eyes are fixed on the red, weeping head of his half hard cock, sitting against the inside of his muscled thigh.

He whimpers as your hand wraps around his member, pumping up and down his hardening length, brushing your thumb along the sensitive tip of his cock.

“Wanna be inside of you,” He whimpers, hands grappling for your wrist to stall your movements and pull you on top of him but all he succeeds in doing is making you stubble closer to him.

You release your right hand from his cock, instead taking his hand in yours while your unoccupied hands resumes stimulating his member.

“I know you wanna be inside of me, pretty boy, but I gotta get you hard first.”

“But I am hard,” He argues in a pretty little whine, and now that he mentions it you realize that he is harder than he was when you’d pulled him from the tight confines of his pants.

“Your cock’s so gorgeous,” You murmur watching the way he twitches in your hand, “Think you’re hard enough now, yeah?”

He nods his head, squirming as he fights the urge to buck up into your hand.

Making sure that he’s comfortable, propped up against the pillow at the head of the bed you brush away the hair that’s fallen into his face as you straddle his lap, the shaft of his cock pressing against the warmth of your cunt.

Lifting yourself a few inches off his thighs your help guide his prick to your entrance, slowly sinking onto him you allow yourself to take your time accepting each and every inch of him inside of you.

Reg’s eyes are glued to your pussy as he watches himself disappear inside of you, all the way down to his base. His eye brows furrow from the overwhelming pleasure that swims through his veins, sinking deep into his every nerve at the bliss of being completely surrounded by your warm pussy.

Pleasure shoots up your spine at the sensation of slowly becoming full, once you’ve finally taken every inch of him inside you you throw your head back, mouth dropped open as the breath is stolen from your lungs. It feels so good to be so full with him you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Good boy,” You say breathlessly, rubbing your arms up and down his flexing arms, fists furled with the sheets between them as he too adapts to the sensation that comes with being inside of you.

“You ready for me to move?” You ask once you finally become used to the full feeling.

Desperate nods answered your question, it takes you a minute to find your rhythm but soon you’re grinding his hips against his, lifting yourself slightly off his cock before grinding back down onto him.

Your movements are slower than usual when you fuck Reg, but after the terror he’d gone through in the past weeks you’re deliberate in your gentle movements.

As your hands grip the muscles of his arms you hear him take a sharp breath, your eyes fly open, landing on his face, your movements stalling before you realize that you’re clutching the newly marked skin on his left forearm.

“Oh baby I’m so sorry,” You apologize, loosening your grip on him as your lips frace the dark lines of the ink against his skin.

Seeing that mark on anyone else would’ve made you recoil, have ice shooting through your veins as fear petrified you. While you would’ve preferred never to see that symbol of hate tattooed into Regulus’ skin it didn’t evoke its usual reaction from you. The only fear you have is fear of the future, fear of what lies in wait for the two of you beyond the walls of Hogwarts, but it doesn't matter right now. All that matters is comforting your boy, all you think about as you press your lips to his mark.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear sobs break through Regulus’ lips, quickly you abandon the stain of ink , moving to cradle his head so that your tits are right in his line of vision.

“I thought you were going to hate me,” He cries into your chest, tears wet the soft skin of your tits.

“No baby, I’ll never hate you, not ever.”

You feel the wet warmth of his mouth brush against your right nipple, gazing down you see his tongue lazily circling the pebbled flesh and you’re reminded just how cold the room actually is but pressed up against Regulus it feels like your entire body is on fire.

“You wanna suck on my titty Reggie?”

He responds with a weak nod and quickly you’re easing your nipple into his mouth, helping him find the correct angle all the while stuttering your hips against his.

“You fill me up so good Reg,” Your praise, fingers tangling in the dark mess of curls.

At your praise he begins lifting his hips in times with your thrusts, helping you as you fuck youself on top of him, wanting so desperately to make you feel as good as you make him.

“There we go, that’s a god boy.”

“M’getting close,” His words are muffled by the soft flesh of your tit stuffed into his mouth.

You too are nearing your orgasm as your clit brushes against the hard bone  of his pelvis pulling a sharp whimper from you. To better grant Regulus access to your breast you’ve settled on rolling your hips in circles, ceasing the up and down movement from earlier so as to not disturb him.

A familiar tightness is brewing in your belly as Regulus’ hands run up and down your back before gripping the globes of your butt, maintaining as much physical contact as possible.

“Go ahead bubba, go ahead and cum. Fill me up pretty boy, want your cum. Need your cum. Godric I love you,” You ramble, seizing his lips again, needing them against yours as you feel him cum inside you.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” He mutters as your cunt grips around him with the tell tale signs of your quickly approaching orgasm.

“Y’gonna cum with me baby?” You ask as you press your lips to his forehead, his mouth having once more found the plush of your breast.

“Yes,” He nods, “Please.”

You throw your head back in ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you, wave after wave of pleasure racing through your veins as you ride out your orgasm, continuing to move your hips as you simultaneously help Reg through his. Stars flash behind your closed eyelids as the pleasure building up finally releases, sending you into euphoria so intense it seems to cloud your every sense.

The second he felt your cunt squeeze around his cock it tipped him over the edge and as he lost himself in pleasure, rope after rope of cum releasing inside of you, he tried his best to match the movement of his hips to yours.

You flutter your eyes open as the warmth of his cum floods your pussy as you come down from the height of your orgasm, letting yourself collapse so that your chest is pressed up against his.

With your chests pressed so close together you notice the exact moment that your breathing syncs, feeling as Regulus’ arms wrap around your bare torso keeping you close to his body.

“How are you feeling?” You murmur against the ivory skin of his chest, keeping your voice hushed.

“Better. A little happy.”

Glancing up you catch the smallest smirk slink across his lips as he stares up at the vaulted ceiling.

“Happy?”

“You make me happy,” His eyes flicker to yours as he pulls you closer to him causing his softening prick to slip out of your tight hole. You both hiss as the cool air hits his cock and the cum he’d emptied into you begins flowing out yout pussy.

Regrettably you push yourself off of him, pulling his sweater over your head before waddling into the connecting bathroom, being ever so conscious about the sticky white mess between your legs as you wet a washcloth using warm water from the sink before applying it to the insides of your thighs. Ginger touches hastily cleaning up the excess cum before rinsing the wash cloth to take it to Reg.

“Hey pretty boy,” You coo upon reentering the room to find him in the same position you’d left him in, “You ready for me to clean you up?”

“You look so beautiful in my clothes (Y/N/N),” He responds instead of answering your question, pushing himself onto his elbows so that he can watch you, his black sweater enveloping you all the way to your lower thighs.

“And you’re just beautiful,” You smile, sitting next to him on the mattress. You aren’t lying, he looks absolutely gorgeous leaning back, mop of dark hair in tangled tresses, grey eyes glossed over, abs sheening with sweat as are his equally toned thighs. Merlin bless the poor bastard who invented Quidditch.

Dragging up his muscled legs your eyes settle on his softening member, just as pretty as the rest of him.

With care you make quick work of cleaning the cum off his cock, resting your hand on his thigh when he tries to squirm away from your over stimulating touch.

“I know baby, I know but I gotta get you all nice and clean for me.”

“Hurts,” He mumbles in a pathetic pout.

“I know it does pretty baby but look,” You say, pulling the cloth from his skin, “All done already.” Pressing a kiss to his temple you go to stand but you’re quickly pulled back down to the mattress by cold hands wrapped around the warm folds of your waist.

“Don’t go,” He mumbles into your hair as he keeps you tucked into his side.

“Just gotta go put the washcloth back Reggie,” You explain trying to slip from his hold but he’s not having it and just tugs you back against the hard planes of his chest.

“No,” He says simply before reaching over to the bed side table where he’d set his wand, mumbling a quick banishing spell the rag flew from your hand before flying into the bathroom.

Resting your head against his strong shoulder you yank a blanket from the end of the bed up to throw it around your bodies, nestled close together.

“You said you were happy Reg.”

“Mhm,” He responds with a noncommittal hum.

“What else are you feeling, love?”

You hear him take a deep inhale, as his own answer seemed to overwhelm him, “I don’t know. I’m scared, I’m really scared but not so much now that I know that you don’t hate me.”

You nod against his chest, you can only imagine how petrifying that thought must’ve been for him and you can’t deny the tug you feel in your chest at the idea of Regulus ever thinking you would hate him.

“I’m still terrified but I think I’m gonna be okay.”

“I know you’re gonna be okay Regulus, you are capable and strong and smart and the bravest boy I have ever met,” You can feel the blush radiating off of him at your words.

“Thank you (Y/N/N),” He mumbles bashfully into your hair once more.

You were telling the truth, if there was one thing that you know for certain its that Regulus is just as resilient as he has proven to be and if Walburga, or anyone else for that matter thought he was going to take this lying down. If they thought you were going to take this lying down, they have another thing coming. There is no doubt in your mind that Regulus will fight for what he knows to be true and if there was ever a point that he would have obeyed his mother’s every command without question that time was long past.

Reg isn’t to be underestimated. He’s just as every bit courageous as he’s proved to be over and over again. To underestimate him is to dig your own grave; and unlike Walburga you aren’t ready to count him out quite yet. On the contrary actually, your boy wasn’t about to take this lying down and even if it meant total self destruction, the two of you are about to raise hell.

taglist: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @pinkandblueblurbs @thatvenusbabe @zzzfour @temporaryissue @gubleryum @msmb @marauderswhore07 @st0nesnglitter @priii @miraclesoflove @shadesofvelma @drachoesimp @artemis1orion @skaratjung @ava-brooke-blog1 @fairyprettygirly @ohwowimlonley @padfootswife @roonilwazlibswhore @swearingsolemnly @teenwolfbitches28 @lilypad-55449 @jamespotterslover @wh0reforthemarauders @myalupinblack @ashesandstars @daisyyy2516 @remugoodgirl @itzstacie @planet-wolfstar @steveharringtonswhore @saintlike78 @i-love-scott-mccall @thatdummymarie @trashyvicks @sprucewoodlover @slut4drvc0 @pagesbetweensheets @locnylupin @mjoubertt-1@blowing-mikey @slvt4fakerealities @kaqua @pottahishotasf

[bubsdolan]

Woah!!! Part 2 to Reader getting in an accident after an arguement with Gray???

{part 1}

there were many moments in grayson dolan’s 21 years on earth where he felt incredibly blessed to have a twin brother, especially one like ethan. from being his best friend and number one supporter in anything, to sharing food and girl advice, learning and growing together and being grayson’s right hand man through life,  he had never been more grateful to have ethan by his side in this moment. 

that and the fact ethan had purchases a car that can exceed a speed of up to 199.5 mph, meant they wasted no time in getting grayson to the hospital to be reunited with you.

as he sat in the passenger seat, legs bouncing uncontrollably with fear and anxiousness, tears softly rolling down his cheeks, he clutched tightly to the stuffed animal in his hands. a sight for anyone who would laugh at a 200 pound man, crying and cuddling a teddy. 

petal, your stuffed elephant, was a childhood teddy your mother had given you the day you were born. you never slept without petal, she was a third wheel in your relationship with grayson as she offered you the same comfort he did every night being away from family home. home was anywhere grayson was, but petal was also a piece of the family you left behind when staffing a new life with the man you loved.

grayson knew you better than anyone and he could guarantee that when you woke up, because he wholeheartedly knew you were- his strong brave girl and you couldn't leave him- that petal would be the first thing you would want to see as much as his angel eyes. the stuffed animal also brought grayson a sense of comfort and reassurance having her with him. 

grayson didn't even allow ethan the chance to drive into the car park of the emergency room before he was taking off and sprinting to the reception desk. teddy in hand as he panted out your first and last name. shocking the nurse at his panicked state, dishevelled appearance and the continuous fidgeting on the heels of his feet. 

“y/n-y/n y/l/n… she’s in a coma. pleas-please i need to see her. she needs- she needs me.” 

“may i ask your relationship to the patient?” 

growing impatient, grayson raises his temper to the next level. the longer he was kept away from you, the more agitated he became.

“my girlfriend is fighting for her life right now! i need to see her, i don’t have time for this!”

“bro-” ethan came running in, throwing the tesla in the first available space before jogging after his fragile brother and coming to be the calm, sensible one in this situation. “let me handle it.”

reluctantly grayson stood off to the side, his ears perking and eyes desperately following every patient being rushed through the automatic doors, every doctor or nurse walking past him with sympathetic looks. he hoped someone would tell him what's going on and where you were. the waiting game was torture, but it was only just beginning. 

“they’re gonna take us to her now, c’mon.” ethan pulls grayson down the maze like corridors to where the receptionist who he had to apologise profusely for his twins attitude earlier, lead them to the room where apart of grayson was fighting for her life. fighting for his life. he was nothing without you. 

ethan let grayson walk in first, accidentally colliding into the back of grayson as he stood frozen outside the door and mentally prepared himself for a sight he never wished to see. his breathing hitched as he took in the sight of you battered and braised. covered head to toe in a mixture of dirt, dried blood and bandages, as the only thing keeping you alive right now were the medical tubes swarming your precious body. 

grayson felt his heart shatter into a million pieces inside him. he couldn’t help but feel tears well up in his eyes, imagining how bad your accident had been to the point where you were put into a coma and how he wasnt there to protect you like he has always promised. he pictured how scared you must have been, all alone and defenceless.

with rushed but easy strides, grayson was at your side before ethan even got the chance to thank the nurse and follow behind. not wanting to cause you any further pain or discomfort, grayson gently placed petal under your arm, keeping her close to your body and secure so you wouldn't lose her even in your unconscious state. with a shakey breath, he plants a soft kiss on yours then petals forehead, his own slient way of commciaing to you that he was there. that you had nothing to worry about because he was finally there to protect you. 

“hey my sweet girl. im right here, im here and i love you. so much.”

“fight for me yeah? for us.”

grayson automatically took the seat next to your hospital bed, reaching forward to hold your hand kindly in his own as he vowed to himself he wouldn’t leave your beside until you woke up. no matter how long it was going to take. weeks, months, years, he was willing to wait for you. 

grayson vividly remembered being told that the brain of a coma patient may continue to work. it might “hear” the sounds in the environment, like the footsteps of someone approaching or the voice of a loved one speaking. he made sure to continually talk to you about everything and anything on his mind. referencing back to the time you would take late night drives and talk about life hand in hand and contently in love.

when discussing your future together on a late night monty’s run, this definitely wasn’t how he envisioned it would turn out to be. what once was a shared dream, was now a shared nightmare.

“e’s here too.”

“hey squirt.” ethan felt stupid speaking aloud to someone who wouldn't respond to him, but the small smile it coaxed on grayson’s face, after hours of sadness, made it worth while. grayson always valued the sibling friendship you and ethan shared. he didn’t even pause for a minute to think about your accident had affected him also, until he hard the nickname ethan often uses to tease you.

swallowing the lump in his throat, grayson spoke up again. 

“im sorry. im so fucking sorry. i meant nothing i said earlier, fuck im an idiot. i love you baby, always and forever.”

“we aren't going anywhere you hear me. you come back to us ok, show me those pretty eyes of yours baby. let me hear your laugh, let me see your smile, you gotta wake up for me- please wake up for me.”

grayson begged and pleaded with your unresponsive body. the sound of your heart rate monitor being the only sign you gave him as his eyes focused on your lifeless body. desperately hoping for so much as a flinch from you or a miracle to happen.

he caressed your hand slowly, continuing to cry silently as he looked over to you, feeling like this was all his fault. “i’m sorry” he choked out, resting his head down against the back of your hand. “this is all my fault. i’m so sorry baby.”

grayson wish you could say something back, even if it was to spite him and call him out for his outburst hours earlier. he just wanted to hear your voice again.

“grayson, none of this was your fault!” ethan was quick to jump to grayson’s defence, hating the way his brother was beating himself up over something that was out of his control. ethan feared how grayson would react if the worst case scenario of turning your life support machine off would happen. it didn’t bare to think about.

hearing a knock at the door, grayson wiped his tears quickly before turning to see the doctor was approaching grayson with a warm smile. grayson felt a sense of relief finally meeting the incredible man tasked with saving your life.

“here’s some personal belongings that they recovered at the scene. this seemed to be the only thing to survive the terrible ordeal.” he said, handing grayson an all to familiar box of the watch brand he had non stop being gushing about.

as the doctor made his swift exit, promising to return shortly and check on your progress, grayson opened the box to reveal the item that causes you to end up where you were right now. with no pieces of his heart left to break, grayson felt numb.

the engraving of the date grayson first told you he loves you, joined together by your pairing initials, elegantly graced the under face of the watch. he swapped his old one with the new, staring down at the jewellery on his wrist that held a brand new meaning from the simple pleasure of owning it, he planned to never take it off. 

everything seem to make sense now. the guy in the scandalous photo become Crystal clear as he recognised him to be the gentlemen from his brief encounter when trying to surprise ethan with a housewarming gift. much like what you were doing for grayson. he realised it now, when it was too late.

you never cheated on him. you never betrayed him. never used him. he discredited the great lengths you went to in order to surprise him with his dream watch. his own insecurities and the fact he was easily manipulated by twitter fingers and his so called fans, may be the reason you never wake up. 

was this watch the only thing to survive the accident? grayson was about to find out.

{part 3}

[macnevercries]

Goodnight (Shinsou x F!reader)

Warnings- somnophilia, non-con, penetration, loss of virginity, yandere tendencies, praise, creampie

Word count- 2360

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You were so nice to him. You smelled so good. You smiled so brightly, looked so pretty, so genuine. These things about you were what started his obsession. Watching you and keeping tabs on you became a hobby, then a need.

He found his brain constantly occupied with thoughts of you, your small habits, things you said to him, things he wished you said to him. Everything about you was perfect. You were the object of his affection, his darling.

But you didn’t know any of this, you were clueless to Shinsou’s infatuation with you. To you he was just a friend, an awfully clingy friend but in an endearing way. He had been this way since year one and you two were now close to the end of year three. You two weren’t in the same class like last year, but Shinsou made every effort to see you whenever he was free. Walking you to class, sitting next to you during lunch, walking you to the dorms and asking to hang out on the weekend.

You kind of guessed that he liked you, you had thought so for years but you didn’t say anything in case you were wrong. You weren’t against the thought of dating him, he was insanely handsome, his lavender fluffy hair framing his sharp jaw perfectly. His dark circles perfectly balanced his lazy smirk. To top that off he was kind and he always treated you with respect even if he got in your space a lot. You just assumed he was touchy, thought nothing of it.

One day when he was walking you to the dorms he kept brushing his hand against yours. You didn’t bother moving, you were tired and his presence was comforting.

“You need help studying right?” He asks, looking deep into your eyes as if it was the last time. This was an interesting thing about Shinsou. He always lingered, even when he wasn’t with you, you never felt like he left.

“Yeah I do, I’m struggling a little bit in English and History. Do you wanna study with me?” His face lit up at your offer, nodding eagerly. He started in the direction of the 3C building, excited to have you in his room. How would you act around him in private? Would you like his room? He needed to record your every action and memorize it. You stopped walking and Shinsou turned around, tiring his head to the side to convey his confusion. He wanted you in his room already, why were you slowing him down?

“Hold on, I’m sorry” you mumbled. You shuffled through your school bag looking for something. Shinsou couldn’t help but peek over your shoulder, he had never seen the inside of your bag before. His eyes darted between the contents of your bag and your newly exposed skin, your skirt drifted up your leg where you knelt on the sidewalk. You looked back up at him, an embarrassed smile gracing your face.

“I left my books at the dorms, can we study in my room instead?” You asked meekly. Shinsou’s face flushed all shades of red. He had already been in love with the thought you in his room, but him in yours? Enchanting. He smiled and nodded.

With his approval the two of you headed towards your dorm. You walked through the common room, nodding at your classmates and getting in the elevator. Your room was on the third floor, twelve meters down the hallway on the right. Shinsou engraved this path into his brain, he would have to come back. You unlocked your door, walking in and closing in behind the purple-haired boy.

He glanced around the room, taking in as much as he could before his gaze was drawn back to you, opening the balcony doors to let in the soft spring breeze. The wind fluttered your skirt and blew your hair. You looked like a goddess. Shinsou wished he could take a picture of you, he wanted to remember this moment forever.

You sat down at your desk, pulling a chair up for Shinsou to sit in. You got out your books, flipping it open and getting to work. After a few minutes you laughed and looked over to Shinsou,

“Are you ever going to come sit?” You giggled. Shinsou smiled apologetically, pulling his chair out and making sure to scoot close to you. The hours flew by, you studying and Shinsou watching.

He had his book open and he answered all of your questions, teaching you what you didn’t understand. He just couldn’t focus on his own studies, not like this. Not when you were sitting next to him, looking like that.

The clock hit 6:30 and the dinner bell rang. You closed your books, thanking Shinsou for his help. You walked him out of the building before heading back in for dinner. Thoughts of you ran through his head as he walked back to his own room, he would definitely be returning to your room later. Now that he had a taste, he wouldn’t let it go.

He had been watching the clock for hours. He ate dinner in his room and barely did any of his homework. Thoughts of you flooded his consciousness and it took everything he had not to go right back to your dorm. No he had to wait until everyone was asleep.

When the clock struck 2am he silently slipped out of his room. He wasn’t careful walking down the hall, his foot steps were never heard. He took the stairs instead of the elevator, heading down swiftly. When he got outside it was pitch black. There were no street lamps on at Heights Alliance at three in the morning. It didn’t matter to him though. Shinsou had memorized the path from his room to yours the moment you took his hand and dragged him there.

Despite how flustered he seemed at the moment he was taking everything in. The cracks in the concrete, how certain movements squeaked the door, where your room was in relativness to your classmates and of course, the feeling of your soft hand against his.

He slides the dorm door open noiselessly. Rapidly, he walks to the stairway, taking two at a time. The slow climb to the third floor went by in seconds. He had been waiting years for this moment.

He glides down the hall, eager and giddy. Stopping at your down he gets down on his knees and starts to work on the lock.

Two minutes later and he has it pop open. Slinking inside and closing the door softly behind him, he walks over to your bed. He takes a moment to look around the room again and breath in your scent. You’re his safe haven and he can’t imagine being happier than he is now.

He puts his large hands on your shoulders, lightly shaking you awake.

“Hey kitten, can you hear me?”

“Hmm? Shinsou?” you mumble, still half asleep.

Your response was enough to for him to get ahold of you. Now that you were under the power of his quirk there was no way he would let you go. At least not anytime soon.

“I want you to stay still for me okay? I’ll do everything, I’ll make you feel so good baby I promise” His words are sincere but they make you shiver with fear. This wasn’t this Shinsou you knew.

With you frozen in place for him, he turns you over so you’re facing up and pulls down the covers. He flicks on the lamp on your bedside table, taking a moment to appreciate the way you look in the soft light.

You can’t move and you’re stuck in a post-sleep daze, barely aware of what’s going on. Your soft lips are slightly parted and cheeks pink from the warmth of your bed. You look so inviting.

Shinsou leans down and places a gentle kiss on your lips, savoring the sweet taste. It was everything he imagined and more.

“My god you taste amazing, mind if I taste something else?”

He snickers at the panic in your eyes. You try to scream ‘no this isn’t how I want this to happen’ but no words leave your mouth. It doesn’t even open at your will.

He plays with the straps of your tank top, tugging and pulling them. He glides them down your arms, bring the whole shirt with it. He tosses the shirt to the side, out of view. His hands run over your chest, worshipping the skin you live in.

“You’re so gorgeous you know that? Such a pretty girl.” He breathes the words onto your skin.

His calloused fingers trace your breasts, thumbing your sensitive buds. The way they perk and pebble at his touch gets him going.

“You like that? I can do more of that” He latches his mouth onto your nipple, pinching and pulling the other one. His tongue glides across the delicate skin beneath him.

His mouth detaches with a lewd pop, switching to the other side to give you a matching mark. As he removes his face from your chest, he plants kisses across your collarbone and travels down your stomach. When his tender touches reach your lower stomach, your hips thrust forward against your will.

He chuckles darkly at your reaction.

“Patience kitten, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this. Let’s take our time, yeah?” he soothes his words into your skin. Despite his actions they calm you.

He pulls your loose shorts below your hips and down your thighs, taking a moment to trace the soft skin. He settles himself between your plush legs, facing your core.

Tracing the elastic of your panties, he licks a large stripe up your clothed cunt. A shiver runs through your entire body, hips jumping towards his face when he pulls away to watch your face.

He grins wildly “I knew you wanted me too, I knew it.”

He takes your panties off before you realize what he’s doing, burying his head in your sex. He inhaled deeply, somehow managing to creep you out more than you already are.

He eats you out like a starved man, his previously gentle touches greedy and hungry. Slurping you up, swallowing you. He latches his mouth out your clit, giving kitten licks where your body wants him most.

He slips in two slender fingers with ease. Scissoring and twisting them to open you wider. He rotates his digits, pumping them in and out, looking for your special spot. One move he makes has you clamping around him, body jolting.

A sinister smile covers his face. “Here? I can do it here” He curls them deeply into you, continuing his attack. You thrash around, your stomach tightly wound with pleasure. He sucks a little harder on your clit and that’s all it takes for you to unravel beneath him. He guides you through it, letting you down gently.

He retracts his fingers and face from your glistening cunt. He slides his fingers into your open lips, forcing them down your throat. You choke on his digits, tasting your slick on his skin.

“Yeah, you sound so pretty. I wish you could moan but if I let you go even a little bit you might manage to get out of my hold. You have always been a strong woman, it’s why I love you. But alas we can’t have you escaping from me now, we’re having so much fun and I haven’t gotten my turn yet.”

He slides his swears and boxers down his legs in one swift motion, causing his heavy cock to slap against his stomach. The tip was a deep reddish purple from waiting, pre-cum dripping from the it. It was pretty, a few prominent veins running across the bottom, average girth and impressive length.

Looking at it made your mouth water. It also made you wish you had time to develop a relationship with him on your own, made you wish it didn’t have to happen this way.

He doesn’t hesitate to run it through your folds, mixing your excitement with his. He pushes into your tight hole slowly, cherishing the way that you grip him tightly, sucking him into you.

“Oh god is this your first time? You’re so tight for me, just for me” He groans. You would nod if possible. It was your first time. The stretch was painful.

Shinsou didn’t wait long for you to adjust, after a few seconds he couldn’t take it. He wrapped your thighs around his waist and started pounding into you. The way his head kissed your cervix, the bumps and ridges hitting all the right places.

He just started and you could already feel yourself close to your second orgasm. Thankfully he was too. Going quicker, he rammed you into the mattress, moving his thumb to your clit. He rubs hard, almost too hard. You clench around him tightly, releasing with him.

He spills into you, painting your walls and fucking you through it. He groans and his voice cracks.

“Oh fuck, good girl good girl good girl good girl. Yeah you’re so fucking good for me” he rambles his words into your ear, sucking on your jaw as he slows down and pulls out. He grabs his phone and starts snapping photos, your fucked out face, his hands on your breast, the hickeys and marks trailing your body, and last but not least, his pale fingers pushing his cum back inside of you as it threatens to spill out.

Content with his job, he pulls his pants back up, and tucks you back into bed. He switches off the lamp, kissing your forehead.

“Let’s keep this a secret yeah? At least until you’re ready to accept my feelings.”

Picking your panties off of the floor and sliding them into his pocket he exits the room just as quietly as he entered. Even when his quirk deactivates, you lay there silently, the remains of his presence leaking down your thigh again. You feel so used. And yet somehow, so loved.

[rafael-silva]

guide me back (I’m lost without your light): a tarlos fic

“All available units respond to a 10-50 at the intersection of Sixth and North Lamar Boulevard. Multiple vehicle pile up.” “Dispatch, this is 363-H-20 responding. ETA three minutes.”

*

When Carlos and Mitchell respond to the call, the last thing Carlos expects is to find TK in the middle of the wreck. He races against time to keep TK awake and stable until fire and medical arrive, while sending out prayer after prayer that his time with TK hasn’t been cut short. That they haven’t run out of time.

for bad things happen bingo: tarlos + bloodstained clothes 

hurt tk strand, worried carlos reyes, established relationship, whump, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort, kisses, blood, injury description, major character injury, angst with a happy ending

10.1k | on ao3

*****

“All available units respond to a 10-50 at the intersection of Sixth and North Lamar Boulevard. Multiple vehicle pile up.”

“Dispatch, this is 363-H-20 responding. ETA three minutes.”

The sun sits high in the sky as Carlos grips the steering wheel tightly while Mitchell releases her radio and flicks on the light bar and siren, blaring loudly as they head into the heart of downtown Austin.

It sounded serious, if all available units are being dispatched to the scene, meaning fire engines are being dispatched, too. Carlos fleetly wonders if the 126 will be called to the scene, but he knows he won’t be seeing TK since it’s the paramedic’s day off.

It’s difficult when one of them is working and the other is off; at least if they were both working, there are always chances of them meeting on calls, and if they were both off, well, those days were spent in utter happiness together, either spent in or out, it didn’t matter as long as they were spent together. They make it work, however, spending as much time together before one of them goes to work and then at night, cuddling on the couch or in bed, safe in each other’s arms after a long day.

Carlos hopes the accident isn’t as grave as he’s imagining but his gut is telling him otherwise. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he realizes there’s a big possibility he might be late for the home dinner date he and TK had planned. TK had said he had a surprise for Carlos, and was clearly super excited about it. Carlos was looking forward to it and now…

Carlos’s gut is proven right when they round the corner and he catches sight of the crash from a few blocks away. Dread sets in his stomach the closer they get to the scene, other police cruisers pulling up at the same time.

He might need to tell TK that his shift may run long. He holds back at that, though, first wanting to get a full feel of how the rest of his shift will pan out.

Carlos parks and shares a concerned look with his partner before drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. They hop out of the car and Carlos takes a quick survey of their surroundings, noticing that they had arrived at the scene before fire and medical.

Carlos starts moving towards where the accident is the worst, and well, it’s bad. Four cars seem to have harshly rear ended each other, the crushed metal an indication of how sudden and quick it had happened. He can’t really tell one car from the other, all of them mangled together in a way that tells Carlos there are definitely more than a few injuries sustained to the people who were in these cars.

He doesn’t have much time to draw any more conclusions because he’s frantically being flagged down by a man around his own age, who seems unharmed. Bystander, Carlos’s mind supplies.

Carlos jogs over as the man takes a few steps towards him and starts speaking.

“He’s stuck,” the man starts, leading Carlos to one of the cars, or what’s left of one, in the middle of the wreck. “The door on one side popped open from the force of the crash but the guy inside can’t move. And we didn’t want to move him. He’s on the opposite side of the backseat and he’s in rough shape, seems to be going in and out of consciousness.”

Carlos swallows and follows him, whoever this man is, Carlos is going to do everything he can to help him until fire and medical arrive.

“It’s good you didn’t move him, that might have caused more damage,” Carlos tells him, his legs moving quickly.

The closer he gets, the more Carlos is hit with a sense of familiarity towards the injured man. He frowns, his heart starting to race in his chest as he zeroes in on the figure slumped in the backseat.

And that side profile, Carlos can draw it with his eyes closed.

He freezes when the realization dawns on him. His legs stop moving, his feet nailed to the asphalt. It feels like his heart is about to leap out of his chest while his eyes go impossibly wide.

TK.

And no, no, no. It can’t be TK. He was just texting him less than twenty minutes ago. He’s worried his brain is playing a cruel trick on him, conjuring up this nightmare. Carlos shakes his head, earning himself a confused look from the man leading him, who has also stopped moving.

But Carlos doesn’t spare him a glance, his attention solely held by the man in the crushed car. And when said man weakly opens his eyes and they catch some light, Carlos knows beyond a doubt that this nightmare is in fact reality.

Those green eyes, even seeing them from the side and through an awkward angle, can only belong to the love of his life.

“No,” Carlos whispers as his heart plummets into his knees, his body heating up. “No, no,” he repeats and then his feet are finally moving again, and he’s running around another car, his eyes not leaving TK.

He briefly registers the man’s growing confusion but he just rushes past him, no time for explanation, the only thing mattering to him is getting to TK. Saving TK.

He only slows down when he’s right by TK’s side, with only the smashed door separating them. The window is shattered, the ground littered with broken pieces of glass that crunch underneath Carlos’s boots.

TK’s eyes have closed again, but Carlos can see his chest slowly rising and falling with each shallow breath he sucks in.

“TK?” Carlos speaks, the rest of the accident fading away. The movement around is in slow motion, sounds muted, the world narrowing to just him and TK. “TK, can you hear me?”

Carlos can’t even hear his own voice over the blood rushing in his ears, but by the way TK tilts his head an inch towards him, he heard him.

A beat. And then: “‘Los…”

Carlos lets out a breath he wasn’t fully aware he was holding, his shoulders sagging forward a little. “Hey, babe. I’m here, I’m here.”

Carlos runs his eyes over TK, and his heart breaks a little more at the bloody state the paramedic is in.

“I’m stuck,” TK wheezes. “Can’t move.”

“We’ll get you out, just hang on. Help is on the way,” Carlos replies, hoping his voice is steadier than it sounds to his own ears. He then turns his attention to the older man in the front seat. “Sir, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” the man nods. “I’m fine, nothing hurts too bad. The hit was harder from the back.”

Carlos’s fear increases at that piece of information. “You let me know if your pain changes,” he tells him before his attention is back on TK. “TK, can you tell me what hurts?”

“Head, chest…and side,” TK replies through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes as a wave of pain shocks his nerves, running through his battered body. Everything feels like it’s on fire, every breath he tries to draw in hurts, and he’s tired, he’s so tired.

But he isn’t alone anymore, Carlos is here now. TK is aware that his odds aren’t good, based on his years of work experience, but he finds himself not panicking at that thought as much anymore. Because Carlos is right here. He would even go as far as saying he feels a little calm now, but what he can’t answer is whether that is due to shock or Carlos’s presence. TK decides to believe it’s courtesy of the latter. Because shock would be very bad.

He isn’t aware his eyes have drifted shut until the officer’s voice filters through, telling him to open them and TK manages to peel his eyelids open and faces Carlos’s worried gaze.

“Stay with me,” Carlos pleads, those brown eyes that TK loves so much filled to the brim with terror. “Don’t close your eyes, look at me. Focus on me.”

TK obliges. He loves looking at Carlos, loves running his hands over his face, his cheekbones, feeling Carlos smile against his touch. TK wants to reach out, to smooth out the worry engraved on Carlos’s forehead, in the creases that sit above his eyebrows, but he can’t move a muscle. He wants to reassure Carlos that he’s okay, but not only does he momentarily lose his voice, he also doesn’t know how true his statement would be. Because he’s now suddenly very much aware of the amount of blood running down his side, sticky and hot. The side glued to the crushed door.

He groans, feeling the panic start to rise again. Being stuck was already bad enough, but being stuck while also bleeding is far worse that TK doesn’t even want to think about it.

“Hey, hey,” Carlos’s voice returns. “Focus on me, it’s okay. I know it’s scary, but I’m right here.”

“Carlos,” TK cries out, a tear rolling down his cheek.

Carlos, very carefully, reaches his arm through the busted window, and with just as much caution, cups TK’s face and wipes the stray tear with the pad of his thumb. He’s aware of everything all at once, the way his hand shook as he moved it towards TK, how clammy TK’s skin feels, the beads of sweat rolling down his own neck and back.

“I’m right here.”

TK sniffs and nods as he leans into Carlos’s touch. It’s warm, and TK gravitates towards that warmth. The warmth that has become his home.

Carlos begins cataloging TK’s injuries: a cut near his temple that looks deep enough to need stitches, possible concussion, chest pain can be a result of the seatbelt tightening when the crash happened, but he can’t assess how badly TK’s side is hurt from his current position.

He doesn’t have much time to dwell on that, though, because TK is speaking a few moments later.

“My side…it’s bleeding…” TK murmurs once he’s gathered his voice, his mind suppling that he needs to tell Carlos. “I think it’s bad.”

The small amount of color remaining in Carlos’s face drains at TK’s words, his heart dropping further and it feels like he’s been drenched with a bucket of ice water. His mind freezes for a second before he’s shaking himself out of it. He needs to act, and quick.

“Can you reach it and apply pressure?” Carlos asks. “Easy though, slow movements.”

TK attempts to move his arm towards the injury but quickly grimaces and drops his arm.

“No,” TK’s voice shakes, the slight movement exhausting him further. “Hurts.”

“Shit,” Carlos’s own panic starts taking hold, evident in the way his hands start to shake again. They have to slow the bleeding if TK has any chance of making it out of this nightmare.

Then Carlos remembers that the other door is practically already ripped off the car. Making up his mind, he gives TK’s hand a squeeze and rushes to the other side of the car.

“Hang on, TK, I’m coming,” Carlos says as he quickly assesses the area where the door was once attached to the car.

It looks stable enough and the car isn’t tilted to either side or unbalanced, so Carlos carefully climbs in and pauses to see if his added weight caused any shift. Once there’s no evidence of that, he moves closer to TK, their thighs side by side.

Carlos reaches around TK with his left arm, eyes glued to his middle and surely enough, TK’s t-shirt is stained with blood. The officer has to swallow against his dry throat at the sight, there’s so much blood already and TK is looking paler by the second.

Carlos’s hand finds its target, and his fingers brush against the tip of the metal lodged into TK’s side. He feels sick to his stomach as he begins to apply as much pressure as he could without causing further damage or sinking the metal deeper into TK’s flesh.

TK whines at the pain jolting through his body, waking him up a little as he squeezing his eyes shut, more tears run freely down his face.

“I know, I know,” Carlos speaks, his tone apologetic.

TK’s eyes start to droop, the momentary adrenaline already wearing off and his head falls backwards against the headrest.

“No, no, TK,” Carlos eyes go wide, his voice strained. “Keep your eyes open, stay with me.”

“Carlos…” TK whispers.

“Right beside you, babe. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re his fiancé,” the older man’s voice reaches Carlos’s ears from the front seat.

Carlos turns to face him with a questioning look, his eyes drawing together at the statement.

“He was,” the driver pauses to breathe. “He was talking about you before the crash.”

Carlos sucks in a deep breath through his nose, nodding as his eyes begin to glisten with unshed tears. “Yeah,” he turns back to look at TK. “He’s the love of my life.”

TK is still clinging to consciousness and Carlos receives a small smile from him at his declaration.

“That’s it, baby. Stay with me,” Carlos pleads once more, closing his eyes and gently resting his forehead against TK’s uninjured temple, melting into him.

He keeps a steady hold on TK’s side, and senses TK weakly gravitating towards him even more, Carlos his lifeline. TK uses all his remaining energy to reach out into the small distance and latches his hand onto Carlos’s arm, wrapping his fingers there.

“I got you, Ty, I got you.”

A few moments later, the air around them fills with the roaring of sirens, getting closer and closer.

“Hear that, TK? Help is here,” Carlos says, instilling hope with every word.

He turns his head in the direction of the incoming fire trucks and ambulances, watching as red and blue color everything around. His eyes immediately find the bold 126 painted on the truck that comes to a halt on the edge of the crash site.

“Hey!” Carlos calls out for the young man who lead him here. “Direct them this way!” He nudges his head towards the team who are disembarking from the truck.

The man nods and starts running towards the firefighters.

“Hang on, TK, hang on,” Carlos whispers.

He looks back into the open and relaxes just a fraction when he spots Judd on the man’s heels, jogging towards him.

Carlos can pinpoint the moment Judd realizes who he’s moving towards, the firefighter’s eyebrow raising a little.

“Reyes?” Judd calls out before he’s reached the car.

“Judd, it’s TK,” Carlos wastes no time in responding.

Those three words have Judd’s eyes going wide, his speed picking up and he runs the remaining distance to the car, coming to a stop on the side TK’s jammed.

“He’s stuck and bleeding badly,” Carlos continues, looking past TK and at Judd through the broken window.

“Shit,” Judd mutters and then louder, in the direction of the rig: “Tommy! Nancy!”

Judd’s eyes roam over TK’s ashen face, the younger man’s eyes barely opened.

“Hey, brother,” Judd speaks, his voice carrying its natural strength but also soft and filled with concern. “You’re gonna be alright, just hang on.”

He gets a half-nod from TK in reply.

Tommy and Nancy approach the car, each of them clutching their equipment and medical bags, ready to get to work.

“It’s TK,” Judd tells them when they’re by his side. They both pause midair as they’re lowering the bags, their eyes going equally wide as they process Judd’s words.

Carlos can see the worry flash over their faces and they share a quick look of concern before they both switch back into paramedic mode. He knows what they’re thinking, that they have to be at the top of their game. TK is family, and he can feel their fear and pain, but they need to focus so they can save TK.

They both meet Carlos’s worried eyes before getting to work.

“Hey, TK,” Tommy gets closer to the crushed door, gloves on and clicks her pen light. Her voice is calm and gentle, her motherly tone helps even Carlos relax a little.

“Cap…” TK whispers.

“Follow the light, TK.”

She shines the pen into TK’s glassy eyes, his pupils responding to the light as they should, albeit a little weaker than she’d like.

“Talk to me, Carlos,” Tommy says while her attention is solely focused on TK. “Tell me everything.”

“He said his head, chest and side hurt, his side is bleeding badly. I have pressure on it and I can feel a piece of metal stuck in there,” he swallows, feeling the blood seeping through his fingers. “The bleeding slowed down a little but he’s already lost so much blood.”

Tommy nods, accepting the c-collar from Nancy and carefully placing it around TK’s neck to stabilize him.

Judd looks up when he hears the rest of the crew approaching, and after a brief glance with Carlos, Judd moves in their direction, seeking out Owen.

“Cap,” Judd shields Owen’s view of the wrecked car.

Owen frowns, but immediately sees through Judd’s worried eyes. “What is it?”

Judd takes a deep breath. He has always been a straightforward guy, he won’t start beating around the bush now. “It’s TK, he’s in that car.”

Carlos’s heart breaks even more at the gasp he hears from Owen, followed by rapid footsteps pounding the gravel as the captain rushes over.

He’s at the car from Carlos’s side and looking past his shoulder a few moments later, Owen’s eyes blown wide as they move from his son to his soon to be son-in-law.

“Carlos.”

“His side is bleeding,” Carlos tells Owen, more tears gathering in his eyes. “He couldn’t reach it to apply pressure and I had to do something.”

Owen nods, his eyes going back to TK, who’s barely moving. “It’s gonna be okay, son. You’re gonna be okay. We’re here.”

TK slowly opens his eyes the rest of the way and looks in Owen’s direction through his blurry vision. He tries to send a wordless message to his father and fiancé of I’m okay.

Owen gives him a smile, but it’s shakier than he intended.

“Here,” Tommy’s voice grabs their attention. She hands Carlos a large piece of gauze as Nancy moves to the front to check the driver.

Carlos begins to move, and TK instantly whimpers and tries to keep his already weak hold on the other man.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, TK,” Carlos is quick to reassure him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He maneuvers his free arm to take the piece of cotton and swiftly lifts his bloodied palm to cover TK’s wound with the gauze and returns the pressure there.

The team has gathered what was happening and crowd the car, Carlos is vaguely aware of Judd telling them they’ve got TK and they should go around the rest of the scene to help.

And then Judd is back, evaluating the situation and weighing their options.

“His breathing is getting worse,” Carlos announces with fright as TK’s hold on him starts to falter. “We need to get him out now.”

“The driver is doing okay, Cap,” Nancy chimes in. “Alert and his numbers are holding.”

Tommy nods. “We get TK out first. Carlos, is the metal connected to the door or is it separated?”

Carlos shakes his head. “Separated.”

“That’s good, makes busting the door open easier,” Judd nods.

“Judd, grab the—” Owen begins.

“Jaws, got them,” Judd finishes for Owen before running in the direction of their truck.

He returns less than a minute later, but it feels like forever for Carlos and Owen as they watch TK struggle to hold on.

“Come on, come on,” Owen whispers, his eyes not leaving his son’s battered form as Judd returns, pushes the piece of equipment into the mangled metal and starts to tear it apart.

Tommy and Nancy get the backboard ready in the meantime, ready to move as soon as it’s clear. A lot of movement erupts when the door is finally ripped open. Judd lowers the jaws to the ground, quickly reaching for the cutters he had also retrieved and cuts the seatbelt off TK. It takes Carlos’s brain a second to catch up with all the action and then his eyes land on Owen now standing on the other side behind Judd as both men make room for Tommy and Nancy.

They carefully place the tip of the backboard against the backseat cushion and Nancy and Judd carefully take hold of TK’s shoulders, moving him sideways and then guiding him to lie on the board. Carlos goes with them, the pressure he’s applying constant and he only lets go once he’s certain Nancy’s taking over, her hand firmly covering his.

He pulls back and watches as Judd and Owen carry TK over to the gurney. He wastes no time in getting out of the car himself, darting to TK’s side.

Once TK is out, Judd starts working on extracting the driver.

Tommy and Nancy work in unison, the Paramedic Captain covering TK’s face with an oxygen mask while Nancy inserts an IV in his arm and runs a line. Carlos then notices that Owen is applying pressure to TK’s side with one hand while the other runs through TK’s hair.

Carlos takes TK’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Let’s move,” Tommy instructs a moment later.

Nancy takes over holding pressure as they push the gurney towards the ambulance, Carlos and Owen trailing behind.

“Carlos?”

Carlos turns at his partner’s voice, coming from a few feet away.

Mitchell is about to ask where he’s been but her eyes go wide instead when they land on TK lying on the gurney.

“I have to—”

She’s nodding before Carlos finishes his sentence. “Go, I’ll sort it out.”

“Thank you,” Carlos gives her the best grateful smile he could muster before hopping in after TK and Tommy.

“I’ll be right behind you,” Owen says once TK is inside the rig.

Carlos nods, taking a seat on the small bench.

Nancy shuts the doors and races to the driver’s seat, climbing in and the sirens wail as they start to move.

Owen watches the ambulance drive away, the hot pit in his stomach growing with each passing second.

Carlos and Tommy don’t exchange words, each of them focusing on TK. Tommy is monitoring his vitals, giving him fluids and administering a local nerve blocker to help with the pain.

Carlos clutches TK’s free hand with both of his own, closing his eyes and willing his racing heart to slow down a beat. He works on his breathing, steading his rhythm but he can’t help the stray tear that falls when he opens his eyes and looks at TK.

Carlos’s chest is in knots, his heart in pieces, TK is too still, too pale.

It’s almost like TK feels his fiancé’s anguish and pain, and on some level, he does because he’s weakly turning in Carlos’s direction. It’s always been a thing TK and Carlos talk about—the way they sense each other and what the other needs and this moment is yet another one to prove that connection true.

“It’s okay, ‘Los,” TK manages, his voice frail and muffled even more by the oxygen mask.

Carlos sniffs, moving closer to TK so he’s in his line of sight and nods. “Yeah, baby. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

“I love you,” TK whispers.

“I love you too, baby,” Carlos reciprocates. “Hold on.”

TK nods, a promise Carlos clings onto with everything he’s got. And he prays today isn’t the day he loses TK.

They’ve only just begun.

*****

It’s a short but tense ride to the hospital.

Tommy had examined TK’s chest and Carlos’s assumption that it was the seatbelt that hurt him is proven right by the massive red bruise already formed down the paramedic’s torso. Carlos had drawn in a sharp breath at seeing it, heartbroken that TK has been injured to that extent. Tommy had also told Carlos that TK may have also suffered a bruised lung from the force of the seatbelt against his chest.

A team is already awaiting their arrival, tearing the ambulance doors open as soon as it comes to a halt in front of the Emergency Room entrance. Tommy relays all the information as they push TK inside and through the hallways. They reach a point where Tommy, Carlos and Nancy can’t follow and Carlos has to reluctantly let go of his tight hold on TK’s hand.

His heart shatters as he watches the doctors and nurses wheel TK away, feeling like he’s been ripped away from him.

He stands there for what seems like hours, watching the hallway long after TK was pushed into the elevator, Carlos’s eyes fixed on its closed doors. He feels a hand land on his shoulder, and he doesn’t need to turn to know who it is.

“Come on, Carlos,” Tommy’s soft voice reaches him.

Carlos lets her lead him towards the waiting area and he drops into one of the plastic chairs, hating how familiar they have become.

He shakes his head then drops it slightly and only looks up when a few wet wipes are in his line of sight.

He gratefully accepts them but doesn’t move for a few moments after. His gaze is focused on his own hands, his hands that are covered with TK’s blood. And his ring, his ring is coated in crimson, nearly obscuring the silver underneath and it makes his stomach churn in an unnatural way.

Carlos closes his eyes, going back to the day TK had slid this ring onto his finger, to the joy and contentment they had both felt, they way they basked in each other’s love when Carlos had said yes. A tear rolls down the officer’s cheek, one he doesn’t bother wiping away. He sniffs, opening his eyes and begins cleaning his hands.

Once the evidence of TK’s accident and injury is transferred to the wipes, Nancy takes them from Carlos’s hold and throws them away before sitting down, too.

The silence stretches, the feel and sound of the hospital nearly haunting. Owen’s arrival breaks it, Carlos looking up when he hears his name being called from afar.

“Carlos,” Owen’s eyes are wide and movement quick.

“Owen,” Carlos gets to his feet in time for the Captain to throw his arms around him in a hug, which Carlos returns.

Owen gives Carlos a squeeze before pulling back. “Did they say anything?”

Carlos shakes his head. “They took his straight up, didn’t say much of anything.”

Owen nods and sits on the chair next to Carlos’s as he too returns to it.

Tommy and Nancy’s radios spring to life a little bit later, and they reluctantly leave, promising to be back as soon as they can.

Carlos starts rolling his ringer over his finger, a gesture he does when he’s nervous or anxious. TK would always notice, and he’d reach out, taking Carlos’s hand and holds it tightly; a silent promise that he isn’t alone, and that TK’s got him. Carlos would give anything to feel TK’s tender touch.

He notices that his ring is still speckled with blood.

“I’ll be right back,” Carlos says as he rises from his place. “Just going to the bathroom.”

Owen nods. “Take your time.”

Carlos follows the signs to the nearest bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror as he gets closer to the sinks. The bathroom is empty, his boots echoing in the space, his eyes not leaving his exhausted reflection staring back at him. All the color has been drained from his face, his eyes a stark red against his pale skin and his usually neat curls are out of place. His eyes drift lower until they stop at his waist where there’s a large, dark stain. His uniform is stained with TK’s blood.  

He swallows as he turns on the faucet and lets the water run down at the coldest temperature before sticking his hands under it and working the remaining traces of blood off his ring. He momentarily relishes the cool sensation against his skin, but he soon breaks watching the pink-tinted water swirl down the drain.

It feels like TK is getting further and further away from him as each second passes by. He feels like he’s losing TK.

Helplessness settles in his bones, barely turning off the water and he grips the marble to support himself as his entire body starts to shake with the force of his oncoming sobs. A cry rips through his throat and he tightens his hold on the marble, afraid that his knees will no longer hold him up and he’ll crumble to the ground if he lets go.

He feels the fear crawling underneath his skin, the terror ringing through his whole being, the longing, the pain…it all washes over him at the same time, and he almost collapses from the weight of it. But he holds on. TK needs him to hold on. So he draws in a deep breath, stands up straight and splashes icy water over his face a few times.

Carlos returns to the waiting area with swollen eyes and Owen runs a hand up and down his back once he’s seated next to him once again, patting his shoulder before pulling back.

“We…we were planning on going over to my parents’ for dinner this weekend,” Carlos’s shaky voice slices through the silence that settles over them. “Our schedules lined up and TK was so excited. He,” he pauses, a small smile forming on his face. “He was saying how we should bake something to take to dinner. Chocolate chip cookies. They’re his go-to when it comes to baking,” he trails off, his hands connecting and he starts nervously fidgeting, rubbing his hands together.  “Chocolate chip cookies,” he whispers.

“They were always his favorite kind of cookies when he was a kid,” Owen says.

Carlos turns to look at Owen, his features broken and eyes filled with fragments of loss and aching. “He’s going to be okay, right? He has to be. He…has to be okay.”

“He’s strong, and he’s in the best of hands. He’s going to fight to come back to us, to come back to you, Carlos. The happiest I’ve ever seen my son was when he was with you, even in the beginning, when you were still figuring things out, there was something different about him, I could see it, I could feel it. He seemed lighter, brighter. His eyes lit up. I didn’t want to pry or push to know more, but when I saw you together, I knew. You were the missing piece he needed, you helped make him better, stronger. He’s going to come back to that.”

“It was the same with me. He saved me, in so many ways,” Carlos expresses.

“You saved each other,” Owen replies with a smile, giving Carlos’s knee a squeeze.

Carlos and Owen move to the waiting room on the surgical floor a little while later. Owen sits down on an identical plastic chair while Carlos paces around the room.

He stops when he looks out into the hallway and sees the rest of the team making their way towards them, all wearing the same concerned look on their faces.

“We got here as fast as we could,” Judd says as they step inside.

“Have you heard anything yet?” Marjan asks, her eyebrows drawn together.

Owen shakes his head. “He’s been in surgery for almost two hours.”

“He’s a strong kid, he’ll make it through,” Judd speaks with a steady voice.

“I should go call my mom, let her know what happened,” Carlos starts walking towards the door.

Paul pats Carlos’s shoulder as he passes him, and Carlos responds with an appreciative nod.

Carlos’s short trip to go outside is a haze, moving robotically until he’s stepping into the open air, the sun still high in the sky. It’s hot, Carlos closes his eyes and tilts his head up in the direction of the sun, letting its warmth seep into his skin. He takes a deep breath as he opens his eyes, pulls out his phone and he notices a few texts from Mitchell. He makes a mental note to reply later and moves to the phone icon, touching his mother’s contact from his favorites list.

One ring, two rings, three rings…

“Carlitos!”

“Mami…”

Andrea immediately picks up on his broken tone. “What’s wrong, mijo?”

“It’s…There was an accident…a car pile up downtown and…TK, he…he was in it,” Carlos’s voice cracks.

“Oh, Dios,” Andrea draws in a sharp breath. “How is he?” She asks and Carlos can hear rustling and movement in the background now.

“He…he lost a lot of blood, Ma. He was stuck in the car and his side was hurt…they took him straight to surgery and we haven’t heard anything yet,” Carlos sniffs.

“Where are you? I’m on my way,” Andrea says.

Carlos can hear the emotion in his mother’s voice and he knows she’s trying to keep her worry and fear for TK from breaking through the phone. She’s always been Carlos’s rock, strong and steady, and he can tell by her tone that she’s keeping it together for him. Still, though, he can hear the slight waver in her voice at the knowledge that her soon to be son-in-law is badly injured, currently undergoing surgery.

Since the moment TK was officially introduced to Carlos’s parents, they welcomed him into their family with wide, open arms. They had immediately liked him and adored him, Andrea happily whispering it into Carlos’s ear at the end of that very night. They saw the love between him and their son, and it had uplifted Andrea and Gabriel’s spirits and filled their own hears with so much love and glee.

And when Carlos had called them one night, voice filled with bliss and excitement, telling them that TK had proposed to him, Andrea and Gabriel wept tears of joy.

Knowing how much Andrea loves TK, telling her that he was hurt is one of the hardest things Carlos has ever had to do.

“We’re at West Park Memorial,” Carlos replies.

With a promise from Andrea to be there shortly, they end the call. He returns to the waiting room a few minutes later, everyone’s eyes landing on him. Carlos feels shrunk, his shoulders drawn in, his body feeling so heavy.

“She’s on her way,” he says before turning to stare into the direction of the operating rooms.

“No news yet,” it’s Judd who speaks next, reading Carlos’s mind.

Carlos nods and returns to his seat next to Owen.

Silence falls onto the room, everyone doing little things to keep themselves busy. Mateo praying, Marjan and Paul standing and pacing, Judd grabbing a couch pillow and holding it against his chest, Owen’s head is thrown back against the wall with his eyes closed and Carlos’s leg starts bouncing up and down while he fidgets with his hands. His fingers gravitate towards his ring, the one tangible piece of TK he has with him in this moment. Carlos always gravitates towards TK.

The team eventually get called away to a rescue with their promises too to return as soon as they can.

Carlos’s phone rings and a glance at his screen tells him it’s his mother.

“Ma,” Carlos answers.

“Hi, mijo. I’m walking in now, where are you?”

“We’re in the waiting room on the surgical floor,” Carlos tells her.

“Okay, I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

Carlos spots Andrea hurrying through the hall, handbag clutched against her side soon after they hang up.

“Carlitos,” Andrea breaths as she steps into the room.

Carlos walks over to her and falls against her as she wraps him in a tight hug.

“It’s okay, mijo. Va a estar bien,” she whispers reassuringly, holding him in a steady grip. It’s going to be okay.

Carlos returns the embrace, burying his face in his mother’s neck, more tears spring to his eyes at being held by his mother and feeling her safety and comfort.

There’s a considerable height difference between Carlos and Andrea, but right now, Carlos may as well be a little boy and she a giant. Her protective hold on him is steady and grounding.

Once they pull back, Andrea cups Carlos’s face and wipes the fallen tears with the pads of her thumbs.

“Any news?”

Carlos shakes his head.

Andrea walks over to Owen, who gets up and they exchange a quick hug.

“He’s going to be fine,” Andrea says as she takes a seat next to her son.

Carlos nods, his eyes drifting back to his ring.

“There was a missing ingredient,” Andrea says after a while.

Carlos frowns as he turns to look at her.

“I was talking to him this morning, I sent him the family recipe for tamales,” she explains. “He wanted to surprise you but there was one missing thing.”

“Our dinner date tonight…that’s why he was out, he was going to the store,” Carlos connects the dots, eyes filling with tears.

Andrea nods.

“That was his surprise,” the realization dawns on Carlos. “He knows tamales are my favorite,” a small smile forms on his face.

Andrea places her palm on the nape of Carlos’s neck and pulls him gently towards her. He goes easily and rests his forehead against her shoulder. She whispers comforting words in Spanish as she runs her fingers over Carlos’s short hair just above his neck. He closes his eyes, evening out his breathing as he soaks up his mother’s comfort.

*****

Carlos is staring into nothingness almost an hour later, his eyes glued to to the hallway but unseeing. His mind on TK, all figures that pass through and walk the hallway blurred. Until one doctor is walking towards the waiting room, his form getting clearer and clearer as Carlos forces his vision to focus on him.

The doctor is visibly tired, his face crunched up, still wearing his surgical cap as he enters the room. Carlos can’t read him, and that worries him even more. He braces himself, swallowing as the doctor starts speaking.

“Family of Tyler Strand?”

“TK,” Owen corrects as he gets to his feet. “How’s my son?”

Carlos and Andrea follow suit, the tension building in the small space.

The doctor nods at Owen. “TK made it through,” he offers them a kind smile.

The collective breath Owen, Carlos and Andrea were holding is released as they breathe out a sigh of relief. Carlos closes his eyes, letting the doctor’s words sink in, sagging forward a little. He feels Andrea’s hand running up and down his back, grounding him and he leans into her warm touch.

“There were some complications, however,” the doctor continues. “We were mostly concerned about the amount of blood he lost, which caused his blood pressure to drop. His numbers were low during the surgery but we were able to keep him stable and with some blood transfusions, his blood pressure began to improve. The metal shard nicked his kidney but it didn’t cause major damage, we were also able to repair the laceration. Brain scans were all normal, indicating no brain injury. His chest is bruised and he has a minor lung contusion from the force of the seatbelt, but that will heal on its own. He’s young and healthy, I expect him to make a full recovery.”

“Can we see him?” Andrea asks, knowing it’s on Carlos’s mind and also knowing Carlos is still processing the doctor’s prognosis.

The doctor nods. “He’s currently in recovery and he can have visitors once he’s settled in a room after some observation. I’ll make sure a nurse comes to inform you when he’s ready.”

“Thank you so much, doctor,” Owen extends his hand.

The doctor nods once more, shaking Owen’s hand. “He’ll be home in no time.”

Carlos is rolling his ring on his finger and nervously bouncing his leg a while later when a young nurse approaches them.

“TK is ready for visitors,” she announces with a smile.

Owen turns to look at Carlos. “Go,” he urges.

“Are you sure?” Carlos asks.

Owen nods. “I’m sure, I’ll stop by to see him in a while.”

Owen pats Carlos’s shoulder as the officer gets to his feet and follows the nurse towards TK’s room.

“I’ll be back in an hour to check on him,” the nurse says as they come to a halt in front of a closed door. “The nurses’ station is down the hall if you need anything, or you can just press the call button near the bed.”

“Thank you,” Carlos says, taking a deep breath and pushing the door open.

He knew what to expect, he knew what his eyes would land on once he stepped into the room but still, seeing TK looking so small and still in the hospital bed shakes Carlos to his core.

An ache bolts up and down his body as he makes his way towards TK, his footsteps echoing off the walls, the only sound aside from the beeping of the heart monitor. He doesn’t take his eyes off his fiancé as he lowers himself on the chair situated next to the bed, watching as the paramedic’s chest rises and falls with each breath he takes.

Carlos is at least glad to see that TK has regained some color but it’s the stillness that also makes the officer uneasy. TK is always active, even when he’s asleep, twisting and turning in bed every now and then. Carlos would say he’s a light sleeper, he loved when TK started spending the night in the early days of their relationship. Though TK’s restlessness would sometimes wake Carlos from his slumber, he’d wrap an arm around TK’s middle and drift off to sleep again only for it to happen again a few hours later. Carlos never minded that, though, he’d be woken up by many things over the years, and being woken up by TK’s movement is by far his favorite.

Eventually, those movements from the younger man through the night had become a source of comfort for Carlos over the months, a reminder that TK is right next to him, in his bed. It grounded Carlos, and a sleepy smile would spread over his face as he gravitates towards those movements, warmth spreading through his body.

But here, right now, Carlos shivers, an icy sensation darting through his nerves. TK’s stillness is wrong, all wrong and so unlike TK is breaks Carlos’s heart all over again.

Carefully, Carlos reaches out, clasping TK’s hand in his own and prays that he can feel the familiar pressure.

“Hi, baby,” Carlos eventually speaks, his voice hoarser than he expected. “I’m here and you’re okay. They took really good care of you and you’ll be back on your feet in no time. I just…I miss you, Ty.”

The only response Carlos gets is the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

He sighs, running his thumb over TK’s knuckles. “I miss your voice, your smile, those beautiful green eyes of yours…your kiss. Come back to me, babe. This is only our beginning, we still have so much to do together. And I’ll be right here, right by your side, always. I’m not going anywhere,” Carlos vows.

Some time later, Carlos is so focused on TK and watching him, he doesn’t hear the knock on the door or it being pushed open until he senses another presence in the room.

He turns to see Owen stepping in, and stops by the foot of the bed.

“He looks better,” the Captain says, his eyes glued to his son.

Carlos nods, and continues running his fingers through TK’s hair.

“Your mom is heading to your place to pack a bag for you and TK,” Owen adds after a few moments. “She said to tell you to call or text her if there’s anything in specific you’d like her to get. And she’s also getting you some food.”

Carlos nods again. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat, though.”

Owen’s eyes soften. “I know, but you have to keep your strength up. He’s going to need you when he wakes up. You need to take care of yourself so you can take care of him.”

Carlos knows Owen is right, so he doesn’t argue. “Thank you,” he tells Owen.

“Thank you,” Owen reciprocates. “You saved his life.”

“Part of me hopes I could have done more, I felt so helpless just…I wish I could have done more,” Carlos drops his head.

“Hey, Carlos,” Owen walks over so he’s behind the officer. He places a hand on Carlos’s shoulder and gives him a supportive squeeze. “You did everything you could, I know you did. I’ve seen so many accidents to know that in that pile up today, TK’s chances were…” he trails off, shaking his head. “His chances weren’t good. If it wasn’t for you, TK wouldn’t be here right now.”

The mere thought of that brings tears to Carlos’s eyes. “A guy flagged me down and…I followed him and then I realized it was TK and…my whole world stopped.”

Owen nods. “I hate that you had to go through that but…part of me is glad it was you who got to him. Because I know you would have done, and did do, everything you can to keep him alive. You climbed into the wrecked car, and that says everything.”

Carlos moves his hand to cup TK’s face, lightly tracing his cheekbone with the tip of his thumb. “I would do anything to make sure he’s okay.”

A moment of silence washes over them as Owen dips his hand into his pocket and pulls it out, fist closed before opening his palm in front of Carlos.

“Here,” Owen says.

Carlos looks down into Owen’s open hand and a tear rolls down his cheek when he sees TK’s ring there.

“The nurse gave me his stuff after she lead you here. I thought you should hold on to it for him,” Owen explains.

Carlos sniffs, reaches out and takes the ring. He secures it in a fist and brings his hand over his heart, holding it there before leaning forward and brushing a kiss to TK’s temple.

*****

Owen stays until Andrea is knocking on the door, walking into a room carrying a duffel bag and a brown paper bag. The delicious smell immediately hits Carlos and his stomach rumbles. His mother must have heard it because she gives him a knowing smile.

Owen excuses himself a few minutes later, making Carlos promise to call if anything changes. With one final glance at his son, Owen leaves.

Carlos settles on the small table in the corner of the room as he unwraps the food his mom brought him. Andrea stands near the bed and plants a tender kiss to TK’s forehead then sits in the chair previously occupied by Carlos.

Carlos watches the sweet exchange and feels his heart flutter in his chest at the sight. It’s such a simple gesture but it speaks volumes of the way Andrea had come to love TK and happily welcome him into the family. Carlos had witnessed TK and Andrea growing closer and closer over the course of their relationship and it had made him happier than words could express. He’d smile, his heart soaring as he watched them in conversation or watched TK help Andrea in the kitchen, talking about anything and everything, while preparing dinner together at the Reyes ranch.

There’s pain and sadness in his heart at seeing Andrea sit next to TK’s hospital bed. And even more when he hears his mother’s broken whisper of oh, amor, as her eyes roam over TK’s battered face and he can tell she’s imagining the layers of bandages hidden underneath his gown.

Carlos can tell she’s struggling, trying to remain strong for both him and TK. Because not only is Andrea’s Carlos’s rock and support, but she is also TK’s.

“It’s okay, Ma,” Carlos reassures her. There’s so many layers to those three words, and she catches on to each and every one.

She gives him a small, sad smile, her eyes swimming with unshed tears.

“Your dad sends his love, and he said he’ll be by to visit TK soon, once he’s awake and strong,” Andrea says a little while later, after Carlos had finished eating, freshened up, changed into sweats and a hoodie, and returned to TK’s side.

She was about to get up to vacate his seat then, but Carlos shook his head and gestured for her to remain seated there. He dropped into the chair on the other side of the bed, the one Owen had grabbed from near the wall and had been sitting in.

Visiting hours were coming to an end and Andrea was getting ready to leave. With a gentle pat to TK’s cheek, she gets to her feet and clutches her handbag, Carlos following her.

“Carlitos,” she starts but Carlos is quickly shaking his head, knowing what she’s going to say.

“I can’t leave him,” he answers.

Andrea sighs. “It’s going to be busy in here tonight, they’ll be checking on TK every couple of hours and you need to rest, too.”

“I know, but I won’t be able to sleep if I do go home either. I’ll stay wide awake, worrying and wondering and going back home now, going back to our bed, without him or without knowing he’s really okay…I can’t. At least staying, I can grab an hour here and there when they aren’t checking on him.”

Andrea nods after a moment. She knew deep down that Carlos would stay, hence the bag she had packed. She’s cupping Carlos’s face, caressing his cheek before pulling him into a hug.

He goes easily, wrapping his arms around his mother and returning the hug. Her strong hold on him gives him strength himself, almost transferring some of hers to him and he soaks it all up.

“He’s going to be just fine,” Andrea whispers, kissing Carlos’s cheek as they separate.

Carlos nods.

“I love you, mijo,” Andrea expresses. “I love you both.”

“We love you, too, Ma.”

After a similar promise to Andrea like the one made to Owen, she leaves, grabbing the bag sitting next to the door containing Carlos’s bloodstained uniform on her way out.

Carlos returns to his original place next to the bed, his hand going back to TK’s.

“It’s just you and me now, babe.”

*****

It starts with one slow movement. It’s so slow Carlos would have probably missed it if he weren’t watching TK as closely as he is.

The sun has climbed high in the sky, the hours ticked by from the time Carlos had given up on sleep around dawn. It was a night filled with fitful and restless sleep, as he had expected and between the nurse checking on TK and Carlos’s own worry, the officer managed to get three hours of shuteye.

He couldn’t sleep past the moment light cracked through the darkness of the sky above, so he got up, running a hand through his loose curls and stretched his aching muscles. The sun slowly got higher and stronger, painting the sky in streaks of orange, yellow and red, the colors morphing together in a magical way. He watched the process through the thin curtain, getting lost in it for a few moments before directing his attention back to TK.

TK who still hadn’t woken up. Who hasn’t even stirred.

Carlos was awake during the nurse’s more recent visit and she had assured him that it was perfectly normal, that TK’s body still needed some rest and that TK is doing well. He thanked her, giving her a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes followed by a nod when she mentioned there’s a coffee station just down the hall.

He feels TK’s ring sitting in his pocket, and he longs for the moment when he’ll able to slip it back on his finger, where it belongs.

He kept a positive attitude, repeating the nurse’s comforting words in his mind over and over, clinging to them as more minutes passed by with no indication from his fiancé of waking up.

“Come back to me, baby,” Carlos had whispered, giving TK’s hand a light squeeze.

He eventually left the room for a quick trip to the mentioned coffee station, and was back by TK’s side in a matter of minutes.

He kept himself occupied replying to texts he had received—from Mitchell, some of his other colleagues at the precinct, and most recently the 126 group chat, while keeping an eye on TK, as well.

The texts were all replied to and the coffee had long been consumed when the slow movement from the bed catches Carlos’s attention.

A small nudge of TK’s head to side, his eyes still closed. For a second, Carlos thinks his mind is playing a trick on him. But then it happens again, in the other direction and that has Carlos moving forward, heart picking up speed in his chest.

“TK?” Carlos calls. “TK, can you hear me?”

His heart is on its way to sinking from the lack of response from the paramedic, but instead flutters because TK is slowly opening his eyes and finding Carlos through the haze.

Carlos’s face breaks into a smile that does reach his eyes this time, said eyes also filling with tears at the sight of the green irises he has so terribly missed.

“Hi, baby, hi,” Carlos continues, his voice soft.

“‘Los,” TK breaths, his voice scratchy and low but it’s his voice and Carlos can almost weep at his nickname that only TK uses.

“I’m here, I’m here. You’re okay,” Carlos reassures him. “Everything is going to be just fine.”

Carlos’s hand moves to cup TK’s face, caressing his cheek and his heart sings when TK summons all the energy he can and leans into Carlos’s touch.

“Get some more rest, babe, I’m not going anywhere,” Carlos says when he notices TK drifting back to sleep.

Watching TK’s chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm now, TK’s ring in Carlos’s pocket feels lighter.

*****

The sun is getting lower when TK wakes up again. Andrea had passed by and joined Carlos for lunch a couple of hours before, Carlos feeling better and able to eat properly.

He was sitting in his usual spot on the chair next to the bed, mindlessly going through his phone and switching between apps when the same nudge of TK’s head pulls his attention, albeit it’s a little more frantic than the previous ones.

“Hey, hey, baby,” Carlos gets closer to TK, eyes on his face.

TK’s eyes are faster in opening this time, landing on Carlos and then looking around the room.

“Carlos?”

“Right here, I’m right here.”

“What…” TK’s eyebrows draw together, confusion written all over his face.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Carlos takes hold of TK’s hand. “You were in an accident, you were hurt pretty bad but they took care of you and everything’s okay. Do you remember?”

TK nods after a second and swallows against his dry throat.

“Do you want some water?”

TK nods again.

Carlos grabs the plastic cup from the nightstand and guides the straw through TK’s parched lips. “Easy, slow sips.”

“How—how bad is it?” TK asks once he’s done drinking.

Carlos sighs as he returns the cup. “We don’t have to talk about that now.”

“Please…I…I need to know,” TK says with a low tone.

After a moment, Carlos nods. “You were stuck in the backseat, you had some cuts and scraps, a concussion, bruise from the seatbelt and…there was a piece of metal lodged in your side. You lost a lot of blood, and I tried to keep pressure as much as I could but I didn’t want to hurt you more and…” he sucks in a shaky breath.

TK uses his energy to squeeze Carlos’s hand, knowing where the officer’s mind is going, taking him back to the horrific accident scene. TK squeezes Carlos’s hand to ground him and bring him back to the present.

“Never in a million years had I expected to see you in that crash…I was actually thinking the opposite, that I won’t see you because it’s your day off. But then the universe flipped the table on me and there you were…” Carlos trails off and then shakes his head. “I’m sorry, you just woke up, this…this isn’t what you should be hearing.”

It’s TK’s turn to gently shake his head. “Hey, there’s nothing to apologize for. Whatever you need to let out, and everything you’re feeling and thinking…I’m here to listen, no matter what.”

“I don’t want to overwhelm you,” Carlos lowers his gaze.

“Look at me, baby, look at me. You can never overwhelm me…I know how tough this has been, and I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Carlos tightens his hold on TK’s hand. “I was…so scared. I felt so helpless and it felt like you were being ripped away from me. And for a moment you were, when they wheeled you away and it broke me, in that moment, I shattered,” the tears get heavier in his eyes and with a blink, a tear falls and streaks down his cheek.

TK’s own eyes well up at seeing the pain and heartbreak drawn on Carlos’s face and coating his voice, wanting nothing more than to take it all away.

“I remember coming to after I blacked out from the initial crash and it was…terrifying. My mind hadn’t completely caught up with what happened and once it did, I was really scared,” TK sniffs. “I felt so alone. But you know what? When I saw you, well, at first I thought I was dreaming but then you reached out to me and touched me and it felt real, you felt real and warm and you were right there…I knew in my heart you were there and I wasn’t scared anymore. I didn’t feel alone anymore. I knew you would save me, like you did so many times before.”

More tears roll down Carlos’s cheeks at TK’s words.

“And you did. You saved me, ‘Los.”

Carlos lunges forward, taking TK’s face gently in his hands and plants a kiss on TK’s forehead.

“You saved me just as much,” Carlos whispers, looking into TK’s eyes where brown meets green, and there’s so much said without needing words, so much love communicated and felt. Carlos leans in, first touching their foreheads together and then brushing a tentative kiss to TK’s lips. And Carlos feels whole again.

“Also,” Carlos starts once he pulls back. “We’re definitely making those tamales once we’re back home.”

“You know?”

Carlos nods. “Ma told me. Missing one ingredient.”

“Yeah…I wanted to surprise you. You’ve been working so hard lately and I wanted to do something for you,” TK expresses.

“That means everything, TK. I just hate that you got hurt, I know neither of us could control what happened but still…I hate that it happened.”

TK nods. “But I’m here and I’m okay.”

“You are,” Carlos drops a kiss to TK’s cheek this time. “And one more thing,” he adds, a hand digging into his pocket.

He opens his palm in front of TK to reveal his ring and TK looks up at him, eyes glistening.

“I believe this belongs to you,” Carlos holds out his free hand to TK.

TK carefully lifts his hand and gives it to Carlos.

He watches as Carlos slides the ring on his finger, the familiar weight of it a comfort. He closes his eyes when Carlos brushes a kiss to the ring now sitting where it belongs, relishing in the touch.

“I love you, Ty, now and forever.”

Carlos's eyes are so soft and filled with love and adoration, it makes TK's heart swell with just as much love. He smiles, knowing he's found a home in Carlos. And he knows with his whole being that Carlos has found one in him, too.

“I love you too, ‘Los, always.”

And when TK gives Carlos the smile that’s reserved for only him, Carlos knows in his heart that they’re going to be just fine.

[immacaria]

Box of Memories

Happy belated birthday, A-Sang! Wish you all the joy and love life has reserved for you!

Almost three weeks after the actual birthday I've finally finished this thanks to my dear school (grinds teeth angrily). Anyway, this is a bit short, like almost 4k or something, and I took this insanely amount of time because of school, but it's alright I finished it now. So I hope you guys enjoy this and I can make your day a little brighter with it. As always, stay safe and healthy!

_____________________________________________________________

It was Nie Huaisang’s birthday and Jiang Cheng was more anxious than when he had to survive Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen and Meng Yao’s shove talk one after the other. For the heavens and all above, they had been dating for four years now and met each since they were five and six! There was no reason for him to be so nervous! They passed so many birthdays, with so many presents exchanged and Jiang Cheng was still nervous. And just because he made the present with his own hands and it turned out horrible!

Like not the ‘you can’t even look at’ type of horrible, but the ‘didn’t meet my expectations exactly what immediately makes it horrible’ type of horrible. He started doing it exactly two days later after Nie Huaisang said he wanted it and guaranteed that nobody would buy it for him, exactly nine months and eight days before his birthday. He had seen it on Pinterest, in a video where a girl was making a “box of memories” (as Jiang Cheng came to call it) for her younger sister.

She had chosen their favourite memory and made something like a box of shadows to show it. There was a light bulb in the middle with various metal plates cut in the shape of the memories. When turned on, the metal plates started to revolve around the light bulb and create images on the wall, recreating the memory with the shadows. Nie Huaisang loved it and showed it to every person who he knew could give one for him or make one. Thankfully, none of them could give it right away which gave Jiang Cheng enough time to plan how he would do it.

It all began with him asking what memory he would use of all his favorites and asked what happened there, memorizing them to the heart and writing everything down the second he saw himself alone. His drawing skills weren’t as good as Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen’s, but as long as they remained a sketch, they would do. After sketching it all, he went to Nie Mingjue and asked him to teach him how to cut the metal plates and arrange them properly in the other metal pieces. Apparently, there was a machine that did that for them, the only thing they needed to do was insert the images and the sizes of the plates and let it do what it needed to do. Which led Jiang Cheng to ask for some draw lessons from Lan Xichen and digital design from Lan Wangji, which cost several years of his life but he guessed he was bound to do everything needed for his boyfriend.

He planned everything on the little planner he bought (if it was specifically brought for that no one needed to know) and every day he ticked something off. Besides the box of memories, he wrote a letter everyday to him and hid it in the last drawer of his wardrobe under piles and piles of clothes. From Open it now to Open it when you are sixty years old and Open it when you are in doubt about us, everyday a letter for 281 days and too much ink, paper and ideas, too much feelings engraved in those. But should he regret it, knowing that it would make Nie Huaisang happy? The boy loved this kind of old, romantic things like handwritten letters, so why shouldn’t he give it to him too? Handwritten letters with little doodles on the edges of the paper and little trinkets.

At the beginning of May, Jiang Cheng started putting it all together, doing the last reviews and adjustments. Once the plates were done, he called Wei Wuxian to help with the electric part of the thing, the shameless idiot being graduated in electrical engineering somehow. He had to endure his little ramble about how he had become so romantic and how considerate of somebody else’s feelings, how he was going miles out of what everyone said was normal. It would be a lie if Jiang Cheng ever said that he wasn’t slightly proud and happy upon hearing that.

They made slow progress but the present was ready six days before the due date, which gave Jiang Cheng enough anxiety and stress for the rest of his life (good thing he took on his mother’s side of genetics and wasn’t getting any white hairs until a very, very old age). Would Nie Huaisang find out the present before his birthday? Would he hate it or love it? Would he simply be neutral about all the gifts? Would he fake liking it? What could possibly happen once he gives it to him? Would it destroy their relationship?

On March 20, Jiang Cheng was about to have a stroke or an aneurysm or both of them probably. Just some more hours and they would see if Nie Huaisang liked the present or not. Since it had been ready, the poor present had been tested countless times to see if it worked properly (it did, thank gods), changed locations incessantly while he wrote every single letter by hand before making a wooden box and putting all he had made in there. The memory box, the 281 letters and some fans he bought in the Yunmeng market that reminded him of Nie Huaisang.

Early on, he had promised Nie Huaisang that he would help him with the birthday’s decorations and preparations for everything . After that, he made a quick run to his house to take a bath and try to calm himself because he couldn’t throw up in the party, he even got time to test it again, watching as Nie Huaisang’s favourite memory of all time played on his bedroom wall. It was practically memorized by now, the way the images followed one by one in quick succession, recreating a story that he could tell even if he had amnesia.

Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue and their parents were the main characters in the memory. Nie Huaisang was maybe four or five years old while Nie Mingjue was something like sixteen or seventeen years old and they were travelling to the small cabin they passed the holidays. He always said that that weekend was the best one of his life, one where his entire family was together and happy, complete. This memory in particular was one where Nie Huaisang was being thrown in the air by his father to land in the arms of one of his mothers while Nie Mingjue and their second mother were suffering a heart attack. Even though there was some melancholy in his eyes, he always spoke fondly and laughed about the face his brother made when he landed on their mother’s arms and passed the rest of the weekend guaranteeing that their father wouldn’t do another one of those again.

Jiang Cheng would die as a happy man if he could make him as happy as he was on that day, even if for one day. Well, not die, he was still too young to die, but he would feel fulfilled and satisfied. So, he tried to focus on that when he stepped inside the party, clutching to the wooden box and breathing deep. He’s going to like it, he’s not going to hate me, he’s going to smile because of the present, everything is going to be fine, we are not breaking up. Okay, maybe he was a little bit paranoid and afraid of what was going to happen, but he was fine, he was going to be fine. He just needed to loosen up and enjoy the party until it was time to open the presents.

“A-Cheng!” Nie Huaisang said, throwing his arms around his neck and hiding his face in his neck. Jiang Cheng only had time to pull the box to the side to prevent him from getting hurt before putting an arm around his waist and kissing his temple. “Tell your brother to stop being mean to me on my birthday.”

“If Lan Wangji can’t control him, what makes you think I can?” He said, still holding him. “Happy birthday, Huaisang, many years of life and happiness for you.” He kissed his temple again before stepping away and showing him the present. “For you.”

“Oh, A-Cheng! You didn’t need to! You are already present enough.” He gasped, taking the box of his hands while Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at him. He always said that but he remembered very well what he did to Jin Zixuan when the man showed up without his present. He didn’t want to be in the same ending of his fury, thank you very much.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” He rolled his eyes again, bending a little to let Nie Huaisang kiss his cheek.

“I don’t know what you gave me, but I already love it.” He smiled brightly at him, walking to the kitchen and carefully choosing a place to put it. The kitchen was loaded with presents, some big, others small, colorful wraps or black and white with an interesting pattern on it, some didn’t even had proper wraps around it. There were a lot of presents and for a moment Jiang Cheng’s brain simply went blank and decided that, for sure, there was one that topped his present. Which was nonsense, but still served to increase his stress and anxiety (once again he thanked his genetics for not getting white hairs early). “C’mon, let’s go to the living room. Da-ge is telling some story from when we were children.”

“Is he telling the green incident? Because if he is, I would rather stay in the kitchen.” And check if the other presents are better than mine so I can throw them out the window.

“Of course not! Da-ge doesn’t remember that story anymore.” He waved him off, entering the room in the exact moment Nie Mingjue said:

“Then a bucket of green paint fell into his head.” His thunderous laugh filled the room as he started to tell the amazing story of how Nie Huaisang managed to dye himself green after he dumped a whole bucket of paint on his head when he was seven years old.

“Da-ge!” He screamed, going red instantly. “What are you doing?!” He yelped, high-pitched, as he threw a cushion at him. “Shut up!”

“What? I was just talking about the green dye you did on your skin.” He laughed again, dodging the cushion and showing his tongue to him. It was strange to see a man of his size acting like that, but sincerely Jiang Cheng sometimes forgot that he too was human and (kind of) young. “Hey, Wanyin, do you want to sit here?”

“Hey, hey, hey. No stealing boyfriends on my birthday or ever, Da-ge. You already have two.” He wrapped himself around his arm, glaring at his brother. “Stop being so selfish, Da-ge.”

“Selfish? Take that back, brat, before I break your legs.” He narrowed his eyes at him, pointing a finger at him.

“It’s his birthday and you don’t get to threaten the birthday boy, Jue-ge.” Lan Xichen sighed, pulling his hand down. He was beside Nie Mingjue and sitting next to Lan Wangji, talking quietly between the two of them before the threats started rolling out.

“Stop covering him, Lan Xichen.” He turned to him as Nie Huaisang pulled him to the bench next to the window and between two high bookshelves full of sketchbooks, some completed, others completely blank.

“So, what’s your present?” He suddenly asked, playing with Jiang Cheng’s fingers.

“What? It’s a fucking surprise, A-Sang, I can’t tell you.” He spurred, furrowing his eyebrows at him.

“But, A-Cheng, yours were the heaviest of it all. What is it?” He shook his arm, doing the puppy eyes. The fucking puppy eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. Stop, A-Sang.” He growled, avoiding looking at him. “You know I can’t take the puppy eyes.”

“A-Cheng~.” He laid ahead, searching for his eyes. And, heavens, who taught that boy that? Nie Mingjue for sure was not. Maybe Meng Yao. Yeah, definitely Meng Yao. Jiang Cheng was going to kill Meng Yao for teaching Nie Huaisang that. “Please~. I want to know.”

“Ok, ok, ok. Just one part, okay?” Jiang Cheng pushed him away, feeling the back of his neck heating up.

“From how many parts?” His eyes were shining and attentive which meant that he was probably making a million combinations on his head, comparing and guessing what he could possibly ever get him.

“I’m not going to tell you.” He scowled, taking a deep breath. “One part of your presents is fans, okay? I got you some fans.”

“Really?!” His eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his bangs. “I love fans.”

“I know, A-Sang.” He breathed out, kissing his fingers.

“But I love you more.” He smiled, leaning to kiss him lightly on the lips. “I love you so much more than the fans.” He murmured against them, hands on his neck.

“Idiot.” He chuckled, kissing him back while smiling. He always seemed to smile easily when he was near him, breath was easier too. Sincerely, Nie Huaisang just made things easier just by being near him, just his presence and, maybe, it was the reason why he wanted to do everything in his power to make him happy as he could be. “I love you too.”

“More than dogs and A-Ling?” He sat between his legs, back against his chest.

“Don’t push your luck.” He may love A-Sang, but dogs and his nephew were more important, they always brought instant happiness with them. Next to him, Nie Huaisang was chuckling quietly, pulling both of Jiang Cheng’s arms around his waist and putting his hands above before starting to talk with Meng Yao about some new exposition of them and all the technicalities involving it.

Jiang Cheng let himself fall back into the security of all the conversations around him that didn’t involve him and the warmth of Nie Huaisang on his arms and against his chest. Slowly his panic disappeared from his mind as the time passed and the presents weren’t mentioned not even once. Almost everyone was there, the only ones missing being Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli and their newborn Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng’s little sweetheart, who were overseas to look over the inauguration of Jiang Yanli’s new restaurant in Las Vegas (To say that Jiang Cheng was crazely proud of her would be an understatement).

Either way, no amount of time would be enough to prepare him for when Wei Wuxian and MianMian appeared in the kitchen bringing the cake and the tray of sweets. The candle was already lit up and displaying the number 23, as if nobody knew how old Nie Huaisang was. He dislocated his hands enough to clap but not remove his arm from around his waist. Nie Huaisang laughed, clapping according to the music, but sunken further on his chest, refusing to move another millimeter as his ears went adorably red.

“Happy birthday, Nie Huaisang!” Everyone screamed when the song ended, blowing confetti over them. The screams and whistles became a cacophony as Nie Huaisang blew out the candle and laughed out loud, putting both of his hands over his mouth.

“Happy birthday, Nie-xiong!” MianMian hugged him after Wen Qing, her girlfriend, took the cake from her. “Many, many years of happiness and fulfillment to you, my dear. Hope you enjoy mine and A-Qing’s present.” She winked, mischievously.

“What have you given me, MianMian?” Nie Huaisang said, eyes wide.

“Nothing you can open in front of Da-ge.” She laughed, absolutely delighted at his terrified face and Jiang Cheng’s groan. He had noticed that everyone had a tendency of calling Nie Mingjue ‘Da-ge’.

“No! You stole my idea!” Wei Wuxian complained, giving him a half-hug and equilibrating the tray of sweets on the other arm. “Many years of love and laughter, Nie-xiong, may time and life treat you well.” He fully hugged him once MianMian came back to take the tray away from him, calming Jiang Cheng’s anxiety.

“I want to see what those two gave you. No excuses.” Nie Mingjue said, serious, before crushing him in a tight hug. “Happy anniversary, didi. I’m very proud of you and what you have become. Ma, Baba and Mother would be so, so proud of you and happy for all the friends and people you have around you.” He may or may not have sniffed on that part, hiding his face on his brother’s neck.

“Thank you, Da-ge. They would be very proud of you too.” Nie Huaisang whispered back and Jiang Cheng saw him blink repeatedly to avoid the tears from falling out.

“He grew up so fast.” He mourned, resting his head on Lan Xichen’s shoulder while Meng Yao hugged and wished him a happy birthday and life. Once he was done and it was Lan Xichen’s turn, Nie Mingjue wrapped himself over him, sniffing loudly. After that, the other guests did a quick succession of ‘Happy Birthday’ and wishes for a good and long life. Not for a moment Nie Huaisang stepped away from Jiang Cheng, always at arm’s reach of his hands. Not that he had tried to pull him back when he stepped away, Jiang Cheng would never do that.

“So, A-Sang, now that all the wishes have been given and Wangji-ge and I have cut the cake. For whom is the first piece?” MianMian asked, holding a plate with a piece of cake to him.

“A-Cheng!” He quickly answered, turning to him. “For being the best boyfriend a man could ask. And not being too scared of Da-ge.”

“I’m not that scared of Mingjue-ge, but thank you, I guess.” Jiang Cheng said, taking the plate from his hands and completely refusing to look over where Nie Mingjue was.

“Woah, he didn’t even hesitate.” Wei Wuxian said, surprised. “I could swear he was going to give it to Da-ge.” That was it, Jiang Cheng was now certain that everyone, except for maybe Wen Qing, saw Nie Mingjue as an older brother. But, well, were they wrong?

“Da-ge has received many first pieces in his life. It’s A-Cheng’s time.” Nie Huaisang scrunched his nose at him before jogging to the kitchen. “C’mon people! Eat, eat! I want to open my presents!”

Jiang Cheng chuckled, starting to eat the cake as the others were doing a line to receive their own piece and, fucking hell, he understood why they wanted one. The cake was divine! It was fluffy and tasty, exploding in the mouth the moment you bite it and it wasn’t too sweet. It was possibly the best cake he ever had the pleasure to eat and by the look of the other’s face, they thought that too.

“Nie-xiong, who made the cake? I want their number.” Wei Wuxian said, pleasure written all over his face. “It’s so good!”

“Oh, it was Wangji and Da-ge.” Nie Huaisang said, pointing at them. Everyone turned their heads to them, looking in awe.

“Lan Zhan?! But he never did one of me.” Wei Wuxian complained, pouting.

“Mingjue-ge made the dough and I did the frosting and the decorations.” Lan Wangji passed a piece of cake to Wen Ning.

“And the sweets. He did the sweets too.” Nie Mingjue said, throwing one of the sweets in his mouth.

“Which are fucking marvellous!” MianMian exclaimed, doing a thumbs up for him.

“No speaking while eating.” He and Lan Xichen said in unison, without looking at her. After that everyone focused on eating the cake and the sweets. Nie Huaisang came back to sit beside Jiang Cheng, taking the sweets he didn’t like to his own plate. Most of them got a second piece and more sweets because those things were really fucking good.

“Now, the presents!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, excited and sending Jiang Cheng’s heartbeat to space. “I’m excited.” He was jumping on his seat.

“Whose present will you open first?” Lan Xichen said, getting up and going to the kitchen.

“A-Cheng’s.” He smiled as he started to bring the presents from the kitchen. Jiang Cheng prayed that his panic weren’t showing on his face nor his anxiety because his mind was running a mile per hour.

He was going to open the present and see how horrible it was that box of memories and they would break up. Maybe not now because of the fans, but once he started reading the letters and seeing how messed up he was, it would be an endgame. No one, being in their right mind, would stay after reading those letters. Before he could be totally swallowed by his traitorous mind, he heard a scream and someone throwing themselves at him, arms around his neck.

“Thank you!” Nie Huaisang screamed in his ear, pulling him against himself. “Thank you so much!” He sounded happy, but he was crying too.

“What the fuck, Huaisang? Are you crying?” He said, trying to look at his face where it was hidden on his neck. “Why are you-...” He started, before seeing the box sitting on his lap. “Oh.”

“A-Cheng.” He whined, looking up. “Look what you did to me. I’m crying like a baby.” The tears were falling two by two, big fat tears that he did not like to see on his face. “When did you buy it?”

“I made it.” He blurted out, focused on wiping the tears.

“What?” He blinked, sniffing loudly.

“I made it. I made most of the things in the box, including the box. The only things I bought were the fans, I still don’t know how to make fans like you.” He kept wiping the tears, putting his sleeve over his nose for him to blow. “You know I’m not good with handcrafted gifts but since it’s your birthday I tried.”

“I love you so much.” Nie Huaisang hugged him again while Wei Wuxian took the box from his legs and turned it on.

“What memory did you use?” He asked and, oh yeah, Jiang Cheng never told any of them what memory he was planning to use. He instructed MianMian to turn the light off, rearranging it on the small coffee table in the center.

“One from when me and Da-ge were younger.” Nie Huaisang answered as Nie Mingjue’s eyes filled with tears at recognition. “Best present ever.” He whispered, leaning on him with a small smile on his lips and watching as the memory came to life again. Jiang Cheng smiled down at him, passing an arm over his shoulders and watching as he told the story about how Nie Mingjue, who had many comments on how it was being told, almost had a heart attack when he was seventeen.

It was, indeed, the best present ever.

[littlerockerao3]

Prompt 47, if you have time

I know I’m late but here it is!

47. “I thought it was a one-night stand… and now we’re married”.

~~~

Robb knows Theon was expecting this the moment he rolls his eyes at the sight of Robb entering into the kitchen carrying the cake on a paper tray.

“Happy birthday babe!” Robb happily sings, resting the cake in front of Theon’s seat and pulling a lighter out his pocket to lit up the candle. It’s a pretty cake: Robb and the baker had planned on how this cake should have looked like for days. In the end, they opted for a vanilla and strawberry cake with pink and red mousse roses decorating it all over. There’s a chocolate bar in the middle of it with the words “30s are the new 20s” written in frosting. A small red and white striped candle is right behind it, and now it’s lit up.

“Blow the candle, come on” Robb says, smiling widely at how Theon is trying his best to hold back a smirk.

“Yay!” he claps his hands like a little kid when Theon’s lips finally blow over the candle and set it off and Robb considers that the perfect time to kiss his cheek and sit on his lap. “Happy birthday, hon”.

“Thanks babe”

Robb rolls his eyes at that face and tap his index finger on Theon’s lower lip, “Oh, stop pouting. You’re cuter when you smile”.

Theon just huffs in response, looking so conflicted Robb almost laughs.

“I can’t believe I just turned… thirty.” He says, “That’s old. What’s next, grey hair?”

“Oh you have no idea how hot you’d look” it’s the first thing Robb says, cause he knows that’s true: Theon would look good with grey hair. It’s naturally black so it would turn to a dark grey, maybe it would start with just a streak and Robb’s sure as hell that would be such a turn on for him.

“Oh I’ll return the favor when you’ll be the one turning this old” Theon says, his pout still not daring to leave his face.

“Still got five years left though.” Robb winks at him and kisses his nose, “I’ll keep reminding you of how older and older you’re getting in the meantime”.

Theon rolls his eyes, slips his hands inside Robb’s back pockets and kisses his nose in return.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” He says, then makes a weird face, “Why are you wearing jeans in the house?”

“I had to go and take the cake from the bakery” Robb explains.

“And you wore jeans?”

“Uhm yes?” He really wants to chuckle: Theon used to love wearing jeans. He still wears them, but not that often, only when they have to go somewhere special, otherwise he’ll just wear sweatpants everyday, says they’re comfier, which is true. A few years ago, though, he couldn’t help wearing skinny jeans cause he claimed they made his legs look good, which was true.

“Okay but why are they still on? They’re so uncomfortable, take them off” Theon’s hand try to unzip Robb’s pants but the redhead quickly swats them away. “Nope, we have all day for sexy times, let’s just enjoy this cake now”.

Theon glances at it, and finally smirks, “It’s too pretty to be eaten”.

“Oh so you don’t want it?”

“I never said that” he kisses Robb’s cheek and wraps his arms around his waist, pulling him closer and then rubbing his nose against his jaw. “Do you remember this day six years ago?”

Robb smiles, and caresses Theon’s hair: of course he remembers that day, he could never forget it, cause that’s where it all started.

“Oh yeah, we slept in and had brunch and we didn’t talk about how we had drunk sex the night before even though we’ve always been just best friends until the evening. And by the evening we had had sex like, three more times” he explains.

The memory is still vivid in his brain: he was nineteen, college was just starting to look normal, and Theon was his best friend. Five years older than him and with a job at a restaurant that had him wearing a black shirt that made him look adorable when it was all buttoned. The night before Theon’s twenty-fourth birthday he had asked Robb to come over to help him decide which alcoholic games to play at the party the following day. Then Theon asked Robb to stay for dinner and after a few beers they were kissing all of sudden. And all of sudden none of them was wearing clothes.

The following day they had ignored their respective headaches, though Robb couldn’t, at least silently, ignore the fact that Theon had made them something to eat: as far as he knew, Theon had never made his one night stands something to eat the morning after sex. Cause that was what it was right? A one night stand.

Well, it wasn’t.

“Can you believe it?” Theon says, “I thought it was a one-night stand… and now we’re married”.

He brushes Robb’s ring finger, where a small T is tattooed. It had been Theon’s idea to get matching tattoos instead of wedding bands and even though it hurt like hell, Robb has to admit he loves them.

“You were such a sexy twenty-four year old back then… not even in your mid twenties yet” Robb teases, laughing out loud when Theon rolls his eyes so hard they almost turn out completely the other way.

“Oh fuck off”.

Robb brushes some black locks out of Theon’s face, “Why are you complaining about getting older? You know I like older guys”.

Theon’s grip tightens even more around Robb’s waist, as he gently pulls him closer, chests now touching each other, “You don’t like older guys, you just like me”.

Their noses are touching, Robb’s thumbs are caressing Theon’s jaw as he presses his mouth on the corner of his husband’s lips.

“Untrue” he corrects. “I love you”.

Theon’s dimples aren’t exactly in the shape of a small circle, unlike the ones Robb has seen more often: they look more like a long line engraved in his cheeks, which looks just so good with Theon’s sharp features. They don’t make him look younger nor cuter (Sansa’s dimples are basically two little commas that make her look seven when she smiles without showing her teeth), they just make him look… sexy as hell.

And that smile is all Robb is staring at as Theon says, “I have to admit that even though I adored young Robb who still had baby fat at nineteen, I must say this older version of you in your mid twenties, is much hotter”.

Robb gently swats away the hand poking his side with a roll of his eyes, “Is it because of the beard?”

“And because you let your curls grow longer”

He smiles: if he’s obsessed with Theon’s dimples and legs, then Theon’s definitely obsessed with his hair.

“I used to be chubbier back then” Robb states at some point, and Theon nods right back, “You used to be adorable”.

Yeah, Robb knows he really thinks that: he remembers how Theon used to hold his hips, or thighs, and whispering how much he loved how soft they were.

“And you used to wear such skinny ripped jeans that made your legs look so sexy” he claims afterwards, bouncing lightly on Theon’s lap.

“My legs are still sexy”.

“I never said they weren’t anymore.”

They chuckle some more. Robb lays his chin on Theon’s shoulder, as he feels him playing with the curls on his nape.

“Actually how is it even possible that we didn’t hook up sooner?” Robb asks at some point, “I mean, I was totally into you”.

He can’t remember not being into Theon, not even when he was just a kid: Theon had always had this charming aura surrounding him, something that made it impossible for Robb to take his eyes off him.

“Cause we’re dumb and slow, babe.” The answer comes out Theon’s mouth not even after a second Robb asked his question. “Did you forget how much it took us to actually decide we were in a serious relationship after we hooked up?”

Robb loves how thinking about it now, years later, makes him laugh so hard, cause back in the days, not knowing what he and Theon really were drove him mad. He used to spend sleepless nights thinking about how he should have brought up a conversation about it, how to decide what they were, if they were something. When it was actually so easy to understand.

“We literally went on for months calling it a friendship with benefits when we just kept going on dates and cuddling all the time and talking about everything” he smiles.

Theon smiles back, “And everyone started screaming like we fucking won the World Cup for the first time in a century after we told them we were a thing”.

Oh yeah, he’s definitely never forgetting Arya running to the fridge to break out the sparkling wine as she yelled something like “it was about time!”

“Feels like ages ago” he whispers, and suddenly he realizes what Theon means when he says he’s getting old: when he was nineteen, the things he did at thirteen seemed to have happened just a few months ago to him. Now it’s a whole different story, cause he’s no longer a teen, and many things have changed.

“Yeah, back when Loras and Renly didn’t have to bring the baby on double dates cause they didn’t have a baby” Theon mumbles.

Robb nods, although it’s not a surprise that Loras and Renly were the first one becoming parents, in their crew: they’ve been together since anyone can remember, they probably lost count of how many years they’ve been together. Robb has to admit, he had always envied them for that.

“It’s funny cause every time I looked at them I knew they would’ve lasted forever, like, I just knew they would have always been together”, he says, “And I’ve always hoped it could have been the same for us too”.

Theon’s eyes are staring right into Robb’s, one hand massaging his thigh. He shrugs, “Well, look at us now babe. I am an old man and you are a hottie in his mid 20s”.

“You’re only thirty, for fuck‘s sake” Robb can’t help but lightly smack the back of Theon’s head.

“Yeah exactly!” Theon exclaims, like that can explain it all. “First I start getting old. Then I’ll grow grey hair. And then? Then what’s next?”

Robb shrugs, “Then I’ll get older too!”

“And then?”

“And then, I don’t know, then maybe we could have a baby or-“

Robb shuts up the moment he sees Theon’s eyes widening. He doesn’t know how he’s come up with something like this, they never talked about it. Well, Robb did think about it, but never too seriously. Why shouldn’t he, after all? They’re married, and Theon’s always been surprisingly good with kids, even if he says he doesn’t like them. And Robb would like to have a (or some) little munchkin to take care of.

But maybe that wasn’t the right way to bring it up.

“I’m sorry” he says, “I’ve rushed things, sorry. Let’s have some cake, shall we?”

He gets up, grab two small plates, two small forks and a knife and lets Theon cut the cake, since it’s his cake. He still sit back down on his husband’s lap, though, and Theon seems happy to welcome him back by wrapping his free arm around his waist.

“It’s delicious.” He says, after a few bites. Robb nods.

And then they stay silent. Robb’s tense and hopes his fuck up won’t make them fight. He just hope they can pretend nothing happened and eventually start talking about it some day, possibly in a better way.

But then, Theon rests the fork on the plate, cake still to be finished, and turns to Robb. “I would actually love to.”

Robb feels some weird, relieved, happy, feeling grow inside of him, making its way from his stomach to his throat.

“What?” he asks, just in case he’s all imagining this.

Theon rolls his eyes and smacks a hand lightly on Robb’s thigh, “Oh don’t play dumb. I’d love to have a baby with you”.

Robb has to blink a few times, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt, “You would?”

“Yes”.

He really wants to kiss him, he really does. He actually doesn’t know how he’s managing to stay this calm cause the one they’re about to take is a huge step, probably the hugest of their lives.

“Maybe we should take it slow and… try and figure a lot of things out.” He says, “Like, are we adopting or are we going to look for a surrogate or-“

Theon grabs his hand, nodding. He’s surprisingly calm too.

“There’s time for that” he agrees. “Let’s take it slow, of course. Just know that we’re adults, we have jobs, a roof above our heads… we can afford it. We can afford to do anything”

Robb nods, “So, we’re going to be parents at some point. We agreed on this.”

When Theon nods in return, then Robb does kiss him. Fondly. He can’t believe it, he can’t believe how this feels like the proof that Theon is and will always be the only one meant for him: cause Robb wants to spend the rest of his life with him, and their kid. Or kids. And he can’t believe that they actually decided they are going to be parents at some point.

It’s so unbelievable he can hardly imagine it: Theon holding a baby, wrapped in a small blanket. Theon and Robb raising a kid, for the rest of their lives. He wants it, and he loves that Theon wants it just as much.

“We’re really getting older, aren’t we?” he says when he pull away, as Theon reaches over to wipe a tear away from Robb’s cheek.

He winks, and starts whispering, “Yeah but… we’ll never be too old for sexy times”.

And suddenly Theon stands up so quickly Robb doesn’t even realize he scooped him up at first.

“Thee! For fuck’s sake I’m usually the one who picks you up!” He yells, as Theon quickly leads them to the living room. Sometimes he still feels like they’re just kids, though. And he loves it. He’ll still be loving it when they will actually grow old, cause he knows deep inside they’ll always be those two stupid kids.

“Turning thirty made me stronger babe” Theon says, as he lays Robb down on the couch.

Robb looks up at him, smiling. Funny how life works: they hooked up once and now they just said they want kids.

It all started with some drunk birthday sex and it’s still going on, it’s still evolving. And Robb knows, it’s also never going to end.

[palbabor-writes]

can I have a shoto todoroki x reader where the reader is giving him the silent treatment for some reason (he hurt her feelings on accident or forgot something important, like a date or something, whatever you come up with (: ) and he’s freaking out about it wondering what he did wrong? tysm 😌

hello, hello! apologies for making you wait so long, but at long last, here is poor Shōto, trying his best to work his way through this unfortunate predicament he’s landed himself in. 

warnings: none, rated o for oblivious 

You’d been a little quiet lately. 

But, on the whole, that wasn’t too unusual. Everyone needs time to themselves, Shōto knows that and he respects the lull in your texts, the absence of your afternoon phone calls. You’re a busy side-kick and he’s got his own hectic rotations of hero work to shuffle through, too. 

Sure, he tells himself, trying to resist peering at his phone for the millionth time, you’re just busy or you’re feeling overwhelmed. He gets that. 

He doesn’t want to pester you, so he lets the radio silence linger, even though it’s starting to make him feel a little on edge. The two of you have been dating since he graduated from UA. And, what does that make it now, a little over a year? Yeah, that sounds about right. He really likes you, enough to bring you over to meet his sister and his older brother. You’d made a great impression on them and Fuyumi kept asking him when he was going to introduce you to their father. 

Soon, he lied, ducking from her bright smile. 

It’s not that he thinks you’d mesh poorly with his father, no, you’d be wonderful, like you always are, he’s just not wanting to go to the trouble. Not with him. 

Deep down he knows it’s just because he doesn’t want to make Endeavor think he’s giving him a fucking inch. He couldn’t care less what his old man thought about you. Besides, it’s not like he doesn’t know about the two of you. He’s a pro hero, he’s got connections everywhere. So, no. Shōto doesn’t want to introduce you to his father. Endeavor knows you exist and he knows his youngest son his dating you. Yeah, that’s more than enough acknowledgement to go around, and it’s more than Endeavor deserves. 

Shōto knows he has your support and affection and, for now, that’s all the approval he needs. It’s all he’s ever needed, really.  

Things have been going so well, but he can’t shake that ominous feeling that keeps creeping over him. 

It’s like there’s something he’s missed. His troubled mood doesn’t fit with the beauty of the spring that’s broken over Japan. No, it’s too gloomy, too dark without you by his side. He can remember the day he’d given you his number and asked you out. It had been under this sprawling cherry tree and you’d looked so happy. It made him ache a little bit, to see you like that. Crazy it’s already been a year, time really does fly when you’re with someone you like.  

Wait. 

He forgot to clock out. Eh, he can just send a message to one of the other sidekicks at his father’s agency. They know he can be a bit forgetful, so they’ll understand. 

Now, let’s see if you’ll answer a text. He’s famished. He’s worked another 12 hour shift and put in some extra training, so he’s praying you’ll get back to him before he has to resort to going to a soba stand. Not that he’d mind getting some cold soba, but food always seems to taste better when he can share it with you. 

After he sends you that text, he paces around one of the local parks, talking with a few locals and signing some autographs. Even though he’s making waves of his own now, his biggest claim to fame is being Endeavor’s son. He tries to not let the annoyance of his birthright bother him, but it does get frustrating when that’s the main comment he hears. 

His phone vibrates and he excuses himself from a conversation with an older pro he’d run into, tugging his phone from his back pocket. It’s a text and it’s from you.

Shōto swipes across the screen and smiles at your answer. You had some time and you’d love to get some food. Perfect.

The restaurant he’d picked is quiet and tucked away from the main streets, but they had some killer courses, so he’s hoping you’ll like it. He’s already sitting at a back booth when you arrive. You give him a quiet smile and step toward him, a small gift bag in your hand. Huh, that’s odd, he thinks, scooting over so you can slip in beside him. 

The two of you chat for a bit, going over your day and letting him softly retell a recent capture he’d done a few days before. He can’t believe he hasn’t had a chance to tell you yet. The time you two have spent apart has been long, too long, if he’s honest and he doesn’t like that he let it drag on. Anyway, it was one of his first successful solo missions and he’s so pleased by the proud grin you gift him. He likes to make you smile and he would love to see another one, but something still seems to be bothering you. 

“You ok?” Shōto asks, his eyes tracing over the contours of your face, looking for some kinda clue.

“Sure,” you reply, but your voice still has that little hiccup, that shading of irritation. 

“Do you not like the food? Or, did something else happen today? I know it’s been awhile since we’ve had a chance to get some dinner together, or to talk much, but my schedule should change next month, so that’ll give us some extra time.” He’s grasping at straws, at anything, but that arched brow of yours makes him prattle on, his uncertainty mounting. 

“Um, are you worried about that team up? You mentioned it a few weeks ago, but I haven’t had a chance to look into that agency. At least, not that way I want to. No? Er, Fuyumi said she might reach out to you again. She asked if you had anything planned. She didn’t want to, um, give it away when we were talking. Whatever it is. I didn’t know what she meant, but I figured the two of you-”

“You really don’t remember, huh?”

Your voice has dropped the edge and you’re shaking your head, lowering your chopsticks and fixing him with a pointed stare.

“Remember? Remember what?” Shōto questions, tilting his head so the snowy side of his hair trails against his shoulder. Was there something you’d told him to do? He can’t recall anything. You’d said something about celebrating, a few days ago, before all the communication had broken down, but he wasn’t sure if you were meaning celebrating something with him, or if there was an event at your agency. You’d been there for a year. He knew they’d gotten you a cake. What...

You’re still looking at him and he ducks his head, fiddling with his food, trying to rack his overworked brain for some kinda clue. Ok. It’s springtime. That means it’s not your birthday, not yet. It’s not his birthday, that passed in January. So what...

His eyes land on that bag you’d carried in. It’s a nice green color and the tissue paper is white and crisp. Does someone else have a birthday? 

“Oh my God,” you say, a laugh bursting from your lips. “Shōto, really? I mean, I guess I should be happy you just forgot. Honestly, I was thinking you didn’t want to acknowledge it, or something. I know it’s just been a year, but it kinda hurt my feelings when you didn’t even mention it. You’d taken me to meet your siblings and then you’d mentioned me in that interview, so I was thinking that you were going to plan something for it. But I guess...God, Shōto, has it really not clicked yet?”

You don’t sound angry, a little disappointed maybe, but he’s glad he’s not upset you too badly. He needs to slow down and think. It’s springtime and you’re here with him, talking about milestones in your relationship and you have a gift and...

Oh.

“It’s our anniversary. Well, it was. I missed it,” he says, ducking his head and clenching his fingers into his palms. Damn it, damn it, damn it. How could he forget that? All day, hell, all week, he’s been thinking about you, about how you’d met. How could he be so dense?

“Awe,” you smile, leaning toward him and giving him a peck on the cheek, “there it is. God, you’re lucky I like you so much. I still can’t believe it took you this--”

Shōto doesn’t let you finish that thought, lifting your lips up to his and kissing you until you can’t breathe, trying to pour all of his apologies and embarrassment into the caress. He could have lost you, he thinks, sucking on your lower lip and slotting you against him, not caring who sees the two of you. He’s never, ever going to make this mistake again. No, he’s going to engrave that date on every surface until all he can think about is you and him. 

Notes: He’s such a goober and I love how dense that boy is. Honestly, it’s not his fault, since he was kinda raised under an Endeavor shaped boulder and I adore his awkwardness. I could see him totally doing something like this, too.      

Anywoo, sorry this took so, so long ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

[kickingitwithkirk]

Rain pt:I

Summary: After Supernaturals end Jensen’s life turned upside down. A year later an unexpected movie offer gives his career a second chance but it comes with an unexpected surprises.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x OFC! Lili

Word Count: 1918

Warnings: cursing, nervous Jensen, drinking, mentions of Holocaust, mention of divorce 

A/N: This story has components from my favorite W. Somerset Maugham short Rain and Lace by Shirley Conran.

prologue

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

Jensen had been sitting in his manager's office for twenty minutes having arrived early. He wasn’t gonna chance missing this meeting and seriously wished he hadn’t drank that third cup of coffee ‘cause his leg was getting sore from the relentless bouncing between the caffeine and his nerves.

After making Jared swear not to say anything he gave him what he knew. Davis didn’t have a clue what the film was but Zimmer wanted to personally meet with him and the man didn't do face to face with anyone unless he had already decided about casting them.

Davis emphasized even if it's a small part, just being in a Zimmer film could, no, would reinvigorate his career, sending it in a whole new direction, he’d be seen as not just a sci-fi/horror genre actor but one whose name was bankable, maybe even capable of opening a movie.

Jensen jumped up when the office door opened as Davis walked in followed by an older, slightly built, elegantly dressed gentleman.

***

Eban Levi Zimmerman, who only went by Zimmer, was the decedent of two Holocaust refugee families, one from Austria, the other from Hungry. Both sets of his grandparents immigrated to Israel in the nineteen fifties, his mother and father were their middle children. They met and married in fifty-nine and he was born a year later.

He was their only child and dotted upon by all his family. From a young age he fell in love with the movies, his youth spent endlessly watching the greats of the silent era to the in fashion Cinema Italiano.

After graduating secondary school he was admitted into the NYC film school. Two years later he transferred to and graduated from USC film department.

He spent the next decade honing his craft as an assistant director for the likes of Spielberg, Scorsese, and Merchant before independently making his first film, a documentary on his family’s Holocaust experience.

It earned him an academy award nomination for best short documentary and soon studios were vying for him.

Zimmer’s directorial style had been compared to that of (One take Woody) W.S.van Dyke, bringing in his films on time and under budget.

His specialty was taking period pieces based on classic works and modernizing them with the gritty realism he learned under Scorsese. The studios learned years ago not to offer Zimmer big budget films with mindless, watered down scripts crafted for mass box office drawings only.

He was notorious for utilizing the difficult to pull off, long track shots, also learned under Scorsese. Many found this exasperating and exhausting to achieve.

A-list actors publicly pronounced they’d love the opportunity to be directed by him and some had been..but only once. He was always curtious but they learned the hard way he has absolutely no tolerance for a dialed in performance from his actors.

Behind the scenes they ended up cursing his name, becoming quickly disenchanted when they found that once in Zimmer’s domain, they would not be toadied or pampered, their whines catered to on his sets.

He also keeps an eye out for new talent, having cultivated his own small stable of actors utilizing them in most of his films as they had not only proved their mettle but earned his personal respect.

***

“Mr. Ackles, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Zimmer said sidestepping Davis and extending his hand, his grip stronger than he appeared surprising Jensen. “Sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

Zimmer softly humphs, waving a hand, “my father is sir, call me Zimmer,” he responds in a soft spoken accent more European than Israeli. “You’re taller than I thought, excellent. Of course, working alongside Mr. Padalecki would make most of us look short, I’m sure to appear as a midget next to him.”

Jensen chuckled, “Yeah, Jared has a lot of acreage. Please call me Jensen.”

“Won’t you have a seat…” Davis started and Zimmer gives him a do not interrupt me look.

“Jensen, would you please remove your hat and jacket.” He pulled off his ball cap and jacket as Zimmer walked slowly around him, sizing him up in an appreciable manner, “veuillez m’excuser,” and with his index finger poked at Jensen’s chest and abdomen.

“What the…” Jensen jerked in surprise as Zimmer smiled at him. “I’d appreciate it if you join me for lunch. I want to discuss the prospects of you joining my new project.” He turned walking out the office door without another word leaving the two men in shock.

“What’a you doing, waiting for an engraved invitation, move your ass!” Davis hissed at him.

Jensen grabbed his jacket and cap hurrying after Zimmer, suddenly feeling like a newbie chasing his big break instead of someone in the biz for over twenty years.

Zimmer was getting into his car as Jensen emerged from the building. Taking a deep breath to slow his heart rate and steady his nerves he climbed in the back of the limousine, sitting on the long seat on the other side of the limos bar. They drove in silence for a few minutes before pulling up to the Chateau Marmont.

Lunch turned out to be what in the fifties was termed a liquid lunch at the Bar Marmont. Zimmer orders a dirty martini with three olives and Jensen has a Chimay, figuring he better stick to something that wouldn’t muddle his brain today.

Zimmer takes a sip studying Jensen over the rim of the glass demonstrating his nervous tick with his tongue, slightly popping out between his lips licking at the bottom one but acting as if he’s not.

“You’re wondering why someone like me would contact you, am I not correct?”

Jensen fully licks his lips, “Honestly, yeah, I’m confused as hell. It’s not like we run in the same circles.”

“No, we certainly do not. I keep my eyes open for talent that has been, shall we say..overlooked, or in your case, underutilized. Casting picks up on your obvious qualities and misses the more subtle aspects.”

“Subtle aspects?”

“Yes, you’ve honed your obvious talents quite well. A long time ago Fellini told me a good director will only see the surface, a great one will seek out the untapped potential.” He paused to take sip, “I will admit I’m not a fan of your previous show but a close friend of mine is. I have always wondered why my friend had watched for years, what made your show so special. They told me to watch the nonverbal relationship between the Winchester brothers, how a glance, posture, a twitch even, expresses more than written words. I then saw it.”

“It?”

“I watched an episode with the deadly sins, the one with gluttony I believe, who found Dean hollow, it was the end that caught my attention, something in your expression when you were begging for help, I knew I found my Mr. Davidson.”

“Mr. Davidson.”

“Do you only parrot the end of sentences Jensen?” Zimmer teased, “Over a decade ago a spec script was being shopped around. It was an updated version of the 1928 silent film based on W. Somerset Maugham's short story Miss Thompson, which was severely edited due to objectionable moral content...language and reference to Davidson’s title as Reverend borrowed from the stage version. It’s rather amusing the censors found those things immoral considering the lifestyles in pre-code Hollywood.

This script was brought to my attention by a studio optioning it at the time. I agreed to direct if we came to terms on the stars. They were very specific about who they wanted to star, both are excellent actors but I believed they didn’t fit the roles and suggested two other leads. Well, long story short, it fell through.” Zimmer paused again to savor his drink, “I later found out someone had purchased the script and all rights to it produce it at a later date.” He stops to nibble on an olive.

“Preproduction is currently underway, the rest of the cast has been signed and I’m planning to start rehearsals in a few weeks. The only component missing is Davidson.” Zimmer pulls a script from his inner coat pocket and sits it on the table.

“There are two things I need you to consider before agreeing: you’ll have to lose a minimum of fifteen pounds, twenty five preferably, I have a nutritionist you can consult with to safely do it in the time since actual filming doesn’t start until October.”

Jensen never had to do extensive exercising to stay in his current shape but knew losing that much weight wouldn’t be easy with his solid build, “And the second?”

Zimmer tapped his slender fingers on the script a few times before opening it, “I am trusting your discretion if you say no not to discuss the scene you read,” he slid it across the table. Jensen picked it up and scanned through the script, reading the dialogue.

He shook his head and reread through it again slowly, paying closer attention to the directors notes. “Are you seriously shooting this?”

“Yes, this is my completed shooting script for the film. You’ve done some directing, that’s the reason I showed it to you. I wanted you to know what this part fully entails.” He retrieved the script placing it back into his inner coat pocket before picking up his martini glass studying Jensen over the rim again. “And before you ask, yes, the actress playing Sadie knows about the scene and I’m well aware this part is like nothing you’ve never done before.”

“I’m sorry but I really don’t get it, why me? I’ve done mostly television, what makes you believe I can pull off this role?”

“Instinct.” Zimmer clasped his hands together on top of the table and leaned towards him, “I don’t waste my time on anyone or anything I don’t have faith in Jensen.”

Zimmer reaches for his glass again, “Like I’ve stated, I see more in your acting abilities than you’ve tapped yet. You’ll be working with some of the best in the business, co-stars who will push you to reach for that extra bit. Say yes and I can help shape you into an actor who gets the coveted rolls most only dream of.” He finishes the last of his martini.

“I’m going to say this now, I’m not missing Christmas with my kids, I’ve already promised them I would be there, it's the first since my divorce. I also have to be in Toronto in early February.”

“I’ve cut out a week of rehearsals to compensate for the producer who insisted shutting down production from December twenty-third to January third. We are scheduled to wrap filming by the twenty-ninth, so there’s no conflict with your other commitments.”

Jensen mentally calculates actual filming time will be less than thirteen weeks, a tight shoot compared to some filming schedules.

Zimmer stares him straight in the eye, “I’ll apologize now for the time constraint, a decision such as this that will affect your career needs time to consider but unfortunately, I need a definitive answer by tonight.

Zimmer stood up, “Now, the driver will take you back to your management's offices. I have a currier waiting with a contract for you to look over, I’m sure you’ll find the terms more than applicable.” He extended his hand and Jensen got up to shake it, “I’m looking forward to working with you Jensen Ackles.”

tbc

Tagging: SPN @donnaintx​​​

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva​​​

Rain @stoneyggirl​​​

[blushing-starker]

Another holiday one: Peter and Pepper going caroling together and they visit Tony in the workshop. The bots are wearing Santa hats

"Peter, darling, you know you can get him anything and he'll be over the moon, right? He loves you and it'd kill Tony to know this is causing you so much stress. We could always do a joint gift if that helps? After caroling, the night is ours and so is the mall."

God, what did he do to deserve Miss Potts? She has a solution for all the problems in the world, never hesitates to take what she wants and could probably kick his ass twenty different ways without breaking a sweat. Just last night, she'd cocked her head, put on a disappointed face and Peter was done, defeated, tore himself away from Tony's side at the lab to devour some freshly baked pie Rhodey had dropped by. They'd been working for hours, basically a hair's breadth away from a breakthrough, but Miss Potts didn't like her boys tinkering too long without eating.

Now she's holding his hand like it isn't serious, like it doesn't set Peter's heart aflame because this is Pepper Potts, kind and strong and witty and amazing, showing affection in a public place without shame or fear. And yeah, Tony would never be cold to him outside, but the man's a koala when you earn his trust. Peter has to practically pry the billionaire off from Pepper when the CEO has a meeting to conquer (he's dating a CEO, he's dating a billionaire, he's dating a CEO, he's dating a-

"Sweetheart, I see the gears turning in that head of yours, same as Tony. What is it, Peter?" The snow starts to fall a bit harder and they quicken their pace, catch up with Nat, Bucky and Bruce as they line themselves up before the next porch, ready to start caroling their hearts out. Who'd have thought they enjoyed the season this much?

The others didn't come because decorating the tower and baking dessert for 20 plus people took a team effort. Peter had wrapped an arm around Miss Potts' waist and swung them to the car before they were snatched up by Steve to help in the kitchen. They'd been pressed pretty close, Peter not wanting to risk hurting his, what, lover? Girlfriend? His lover's wife? Either way, he had curled around the tall woman, tried to not jostle her too much in case she got sick. It had been nice. Very nice, really.

The whole thing had lasted maybe thirty seconds so yeah. Technically, this is the first time they've had physical contact for a relatively long period of time. He's eighteen now, not supposed to be getting so hyped and nervous over something as simple as holding hands and going caroling along a snow covered neighborhood adorned with a thousand Christmas lights. But, but he's always been a romantic at heart and the neon glow is reflected off of shiny snowflakes that taste like something pure and special, his teammates are joyous, look decades younger, Bucky's cat Alpine has stubbornly decided to crisscross his ankles and Miss Potts ' is just really fucking pretty, ok?

"Peter?" He gets why Tony can submit so easily to the force of nature that is Pepper Potts ; is rather sure it has something to do with honest eyes and a gentle way of loving broken men.

"Um, you're very pretty, Miss Potts," way to go, Peter. It's a wonder he and Tony even got together when they share one brain cell and it's mainly dedicated to superhero work. Or to Miss Potts.

She softens, tugs at him until they wrap around each other and then kisses him. Light, barely there kisses on pale cheeks, his eyelids, the curve of a red nose, under an unhinged jaw. Nat shoves the team forward, says the next house will probably give them candy while winking at Peter, grins when he turns scarlet. Bucky grumbles, "it's not exactly Halloween," but she yanks the supersoldier away from them so there's some semblance of privacy present.

Miss Potts sighs, sets her chin on his head and Peter short circuits right there, is delighted by the fact that she's taller than him, vows to buy her as many heels and high boots as possible because this is extremely nice and being tucked under her is a dream come true.

"You're so nice, Pete. I don't think Tony's gonna last a month before he says he loves you, not with someone so considerate and amazing. Nat bet it'd take me three months, but right now? Tony would take one look at me and say three weeks. We've been outside for a while, how about we head back home? See if our ridiculous baby got away with sneaking to the lab?"

Oh. Oh, is he supposed to speak after that? Function when she just sent his world tumbling down in a second or two? He inhales slowly, presses his frost bitten lips to a long neck and shivers when Miss Potts laughs, sound as pure and lovely as the freshly fallen snow around them.

---:---------:----------:---------:-----------:---------:--------:---------:---

On the way back home (HomeHomeHomeHomeHomeHome), he catches sight of a pretzel stand and nearly slams them into the side of a building. Miss Potts does that thing where she chuckles almost silently and maybe it'll take her three weeks but Peter's ready to declare his love for her right then, absolutely smitten and aware of it. He wonders if this is what Tony felt when he fell for Miss Potts. Wonders if his boyfriend would tell him all about it soon enough.

Miss Potts strokes his cheek, smile this side of sharp and mischievous. "Does my boy want something?" It's a soft question with a soft touch with a not so soft look in eyes that could tear him apart any day of the week. His web snaps and they tumble down to the street, are saved by the fact there's three feet of snow by the building's back entrance and they weren't that high up.

Peter gets a pretzel from Miss Potts.

------:--------:--------:--------:--------:--------:--------:--------:-------:-

Their lover (loverloverloverlover) is, in fact, hiding in the lab. There's a neon glow here, too, wrapped around Tony as he reassembles holograms, sketches new designs for the spider suit, revises old architecture plans with the gaze of a hawk.

"Anthony Potts, you put down that hologram right now! You were supposed to help out and decorate; not adjust Peter's suit. Again." Tony jolts back, clicks his fingers and everything disappears from the lab table as if Jarvis had never brought several of the genius' secret files to life. He looks like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar and Peter isn't gonna let him forget this for as long as they live.

There's plenty of space on the table now so he settles there, swings his legs up and down, grins up at a fidgeting Tony. "Anthony Potts is new." A cookie tray is tucked away behind a pile of papers and it's too tempting not to snack on one even if he just inhaled a pretzel.

"I can call you Peter Potts, too, you know. Don't tease him, I know you would've been here helping Tony out if we hadn't gone caroling."

It's Tony's turn to grin and Peter's turn to flush now. Two more cookies are snatched, shoved into his face. "I kind of like that. The Potts thing. It's nice."

Miss Potts crosses over to them, wraps a finger around the one curl he can never tame and pulls on it until he's leaning on her palm with the sudden urge to never leave the lab. "I'm glad you like it, Peter. Anthony here has to go clean the dining table, but we can cuddle on the couch to warm up before seeing what's already cooked. How's that sound?"

"It sounds like your husband is being punished for upgrading your boyfriend's suit and making sure he doesn't die fighting some weird alien dog." Tony huffs, steals Dum-E's Santa hat with a pout before dragging himself up the stairs to the kitchen. "I'm saving everyone's lives, but no. I gotta see Steve butcher a Christmas tradition."

"There's nothing wrong with how Steve cooks the meal."

"Tell that to my grandmother and nanny. Even Jarvis could cook better and he doesn't have any hands." Said A. I hums in a suspiciously noncommittal way as his creator starts yelling about blood being spilled if a single stain is found in his prized kitchen.

The bots all seem to sigh in relief, roll over to bump Peter's knee or shoulder as affectionately as Alpine. He patiently fixes their elf ears and hats, rubs a few bells clean from grease and motor oil because Tony probably hadn't noticed and wouldn't notice until they accidentally stained something. Don't ask him or Miss Potts how, but Tony's children could ruin a fifty thousand dollar couch with purple paint without there necessarily being a can of paint around the lab.

Miss Potts' plan of cuddling on the couch is derailed when they hear screeching and curses pertaining to five different languages coming from above. She sighs, takes Peter's hand and he already knows she'll come up with a solution. She always did.

(Maybe it was time to explain he'd already found their gifts, twin silver rings with all their initials engraved hidden in his coat pocket.)

(And then Tony starts shouting something in Italian, Steve might be reverting to an Irish accent, Alpine hops on the dining table to pounce on the chicken, Miss Potts has to yank her husband away from the oven, Bucky's hair nearly catches on fire and yeah, he'll just show them on New Year's.)

[waitimcomingtoo]

Hi! I love your stories! Can I req a story where Paddy has the biggest celebrity crush on you, and when Tom introduced you to his family, Paddy tried to get your attention all the time. It was cute at first but Tom later on gets jealous. Thank you!

Thank you! I love this idea. I made it way too long so I separated it into two posts.

My Girl

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: everyone finds Paddys crush on your adorable. Everyone but Tom.

Part Two

Part three

Part four

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

The Holland boys had always been quite fond of you.

You were a child actor, and they grew up watching you on screen. The quickest way to stop them from screaming, crying, and running around was to put on a movie of yours. Like bugs to a light, the boys would circle around the TV and watch you with wide eyes and total silence. You were their Wendy, and they were your Lost Boys. Dom and Nikki would almost tear up with laughter when they saw their boys stare at you with awestruck expressions. It was like they were in a trance, watching your every move without blinking until you were off screen. Of course, a group of boys doesn’t stay quiet for long. There would be fights over who liked you more, who’d you like more, and who would be the one to marry you. Marriage, of course, being the ultimate goal for young boys in love. These fights always ended in tears, and Sam and Harry backing down. Paddy, a little too young to talk but plenty old enough to scream, would throw a tantrum until Tom gave up and let him win.

“I’m gonna marry Y/n.” Tom declare.

“No, me.” Paddy would yell and slam his little fists on the couch.

“She won’t marry you! You’re just a baby.” Tom stuck out his tongue.

“No.” Paddy would scream.

“Tom, don’t upset your brother.” Nikki’d call from the other room.

“But I want to marry Y/n.” Tom would whine. “Paddy is just a baby!”

“Thomas.” Nikki’d say sternly. “I’m going to count to three. Just tell him he can marry her so he won’t cry.”

“But-“ Tom would protest.

“No buts.” Nikki interrupted. “Tell him.”

“You can marry Y/n.” Tom grumbled.

“Good job. Now hug it out.”

As the boys got older, their feelings for you changed. You had gotten older too, and they took notice. Sam and Harry had lost their puppy love for you, claiming to be too mature to fawn over some girl. They stopped thinking you were the prettiest girl in the world, and started making comments that you were hot, as boys do. But that didn’t mean they didn’t see each and every one of your new movies, no matter how “lame” they said it looked. Tom, being the oldest of the bunch and your age, grew up with you. He noticed the baby face he fell in love with changing into the face of a beautiful teen, then young adult. He was a kid when you were a kid, a teen when you were a teen, and in his early twenties when you were. This left a special place in his heart for you. He didn’t have the puppy love anymore either, but a more mature, adult love. He admired your work, but differently now. He was an established actor himself, and was able to recognize the hard work you put into your job, and appreciate how you’d been doing it from such a young age. He prayed for the day you and him were cast as love interests in a movie. He hoped to see you at every award show, audition, and party, but your paths never crossed.

And then there was Paddy. Paddy was significantly younger than his brothers. They grew up, and you became more of a celebrity crush to them. But Paddy was a young boy with a big imagination. The age difference didn’t occur to him. The fact that you’d never met didn’t matter. He was wholly convinced you’d be married one day. He adored you. He’d watch your movies, even the girly ones, with the same awestruck expression as when he was little. He was enchanted by you. The way you moved, the way you spoke, everything. He had your picture as his background, your name as his password, and every fact about you engraved in his brain. In his mind, he was in love with you, what his 15 year old self knew love to be.

“Aww, look what’s on.” Nikki said nostalgically when she flipped through the channels of the television and found an old movie of yours. It was around a holiday, and a rare time when all her boys were home. “You boys used to watch this all the time when you were little.”

“Whatever.” Sam grumbled into his cereal, but managed to sneak a few glances at you when his mom wasn’t looking.

“We only watched it because Sam fancied her.” Harry snorted.

“You fancied her too.” Sam elbowed his brother, not realizing he just admitted to his secret love for you.

“Did not!” Harry protested.

“Did too!” Sam retorted.

“Did not.” Harry said again. “And who cares anyway? Tom still fancies her. He thinks they’re gonna play Romeo and Juliet one day and fall in love.”

“You’re just jealous because she said in an interview that she liked my movies.” Tom replied, too above the fighting to care.

“She said she liked Infinity War.” Paddy cut in. “She didn’t specifically say she liked you.”

“At least she knows I exist, and I’m not just some 11 year old kid in love with her.” Tom shot back, losing his cool. There was still a bigger resentment between the the oldest and the youngest boy over you.

“I’m 12!” Paddy slammed his hands on the table.

“Boys!” Nikki gasped. “Are you seriously still fighting over Y/n at your ages?”

“He started it!” They all yelled in unison.

“I’m tired of this. From now on, no one mentions Y/n, okay? No more fighting over that girl.” Nikki’d held up her hands, meaning she meant business.

So from then on, you weren’t mentioned.

Until one fateful, fateful day.

“Spider-Man!” Tom heard a sweet voice behind him as he made his way back to his seat at the Emmys two years later. He turned around and looked around for who the voice belonged to, until his eyes landed on you.

“Y/n?” He asked in disbelief. There you were. In person, not on a screen. After so many years of watching you and admiring you, Tom was at a loss for words. You picked up the train of your dress and hurried over to him.

“Hi.” You laughed in excitement as you pulled Tom into a friendly hug. He froze before wrapping his arms around you, careful of your gown. He couldn’t believe he wasn’t only speaking to you, but holding you. You’d been a fantasy, a mere dream, his whole life. You let out a happy sigh and brushed a curl away from your perfectly done up face. “I can’t believe we’re actually meeting. I’m such a big fan.”

“You’re a fan of me?” Tom sputtered. He looked around, expecting to see Ellen DeGeneres somewhere with a camera in an attempt to prank him. He didn’t see anyone, and realized this was actually happening. You actually came up to him. “I’ve been watching your movies my entire life. Your first movie was the first move I ever saw.” Tom admitted with a bashful smile.

“Really?” You smiled as if he’d just given you a compliment, which unknown to him, he had. “Because we’re the same age right?”

“Yeah, we are.” Tom said, shocked you knew his age.

“That’s so cute.” You giggled, making Tom laugh as well. “I’m so glad we’re getting a chance to meet. I love you in the Marvel movies. And you were so cute in In the Heart of the Sea. I wish you’d wear your curls more.”

“You’ve seen my non marvel movies?” Tom practically gasped, suddenly very aware of his straightened hair.

“Well duh.” You laughed. “You’re like my favorite actor.”

“You’re my favorite actor too.” Tom said sincerely. “I-I think you’re incredible.” You gave Tom a warm smile.

“Do you want to exchange numbers maybe?” You asked shyly. “The cameras are gonna start recording soon and I’d rather not having dating rumors flying when we’re just getting to know each other. Because I want to get to know you, Tom. As more than just my favorite actor.”

“I’d love that.” Tom said. He nervously took his phone out of his pocket and handed it to you. You took it and entered your number into it.

“There. Text me during the speeches. They’re so boring.” You let out a breathy laugh. You laughed a lot, Tom noticed. And he liked it. He really liked it.

“Where are you sitting?” Tom asked, making a bold decision.

“Over by Hugh Jackman.” You pointed your thumb and then rubbed your nails on your shoulder and pretended to yawn. “No biggie.”

“Did you-would you, maybe…” Tom stuttered.

“Want to sit together?” You finished for him.

“I was gonna get there.” Tom defended with a smile, making your scrunch your nose. “But yes, would you like to sit with me?”

“I actually have a better idea.” You quipped.

You didn’t sit together that night.

You left the Emmys all together, and ended up talking all night in a dinner. Tom was still in his suit, and you were still in your gown, but it was perfect. You shared a plate of French fries, and later, a kiss.

The rest is history.

“Tommy?” You asked as you laced your fingers through his, your head resting against his heart. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, darling.” Tom said, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“Are you ashamed of me?” You asked, much to his surprise.

“What?” Tom sputtered shocked at your accusation. “No. Never. Why would you ask that?”

“It’s just, we’ve been dating for almost a year and you haven’t introduced me to your brothers. Yeah, I’ve met your parents a bunch, but not once have I met any of your brothers. I think I saw Sam getting into his car once, and that’s it. Do they even know about me?” You asked sadly. You’d met Dom and Nikki about three months in, when things got serious between you and Tom. Nikki was absolutely thrilled to see the two of you together. You didn’t know the full extent of Toms life long love for you, and Nikki was all too quick to spill it. She beamed every time you two held hands or used a pet name. Dom was just happy to see his son end up with such a great girl. Since then, you went on weekly shopping dates with Nikki and attended Dom’s stand up shows whenever you could. You were close with them, very close. But still had not once met a brother.

“Well-I…no. No, I haven’t.” Tom admitted, disappointing even himself.

“Why not?” You pried, a little hurt that they didn’t even know you were in Toms life. “Is there something wrong with me? Do you not them to know about me? About us?”

“Love.” Tom sat up and looked you in the eyes. You looked upset, but like you were keeping your emotions inside. Tom felt guilt seep into his heart. “I’m not ashamed of you. It’s the opposite actually. My brothers, they love you. Especially Paddy. And I really love you too. I don’t want to bring you home and have them get all weird about it.”

“Why would they get weird?” You asked.

“I know my brothers, okay? Harry and Sam would act like they’re too cool to care, but then probably invite all their friends over to brag about you. You don’t want a bunch of twenty year old guys vying for you attention. Hell, I don’t want a bunch of twenty year old guys vying for you attention. And Paddy,” Tom sighed. “Paddy would probably spontaneously combust. He’s been in love with you since he was in diapers. He’d kill me if he found out we were dating.”

“Tommy, I don’t think your 15 year old brother is going to kill you over a girl.” You chuckled lightly.

“Then darling, you don’t know my 15 year old brother.” Tom laughed. “I mean it. He’d freak out. He’d try to steal you from me.”

“Well I think it’s safe to say that he wouldn’t succeed.” You smiled as you rolled on top of Tom. He pressed a kiss to your lips and flopped his head onto the pillow. “Please let me meet them? I want to know your family. I want to know where you came from and who you grew up with. I promise it won’t be as weird as you think it’ll be.”

“And I promise you that it will be.” Tom said through his teeth.

“Please?” You asked, looking at him through your eyelashes. He held out as long as he could before a dopey smile lit up his face. He had caved.

“How can I say no to you?” Tom smiled.

And so, you found yourself hiding behind a wall in Toms childhood home as he broke the news to his brothers.

“As some of you may know, I’ve been seeing someone. We’ve been together for ten months, and I love her very dearly.” Tom began.

“Mate, no one cares.” Harry said, trying to see past Tom to the TV.

“Bug off.” Sam muttered, also attempting to see around Tom.

“As I was saying, I have a girlfriend.” Tom said, slightly annoyed that his brothers weren’t paying attention. They’d be pay attention when they saw who it was, that’s for sure. “A serious one. She’s met mum and dad, and now she wants to meet you, though I have no idea why.”

“I’m gonna be really mugged off if you’ve interrupted our game to talk about some girl.” Harry said, moving the headset away from his mouth so his friends wouldn’t hear.

“She’s not some girl.” Tom said through gritted teeth. “You actually know her. Just, don’t freak out, okay? Act normal? I love this girl and I don’t want you buttwads messing it up.”

“Whatever mate.” Sam waved his hand. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Okay.” Tom sighed and looked at the wall you were hiding behind. “Y/n? Come on out.”

“Huh?” Paddy said and whipped his head around. You came out from behind the wall with a shysmile and a friendly wave. Sam and Harry looked shocked, then burst out laughing when they saw Paddy’s reaction. Paddy was frozen, jaw dropped and eyes wide, like the bug to the light. Harry couldn’t stop himself from applauding.

“Oh Tom.” He laughed. “You’ve really outdone yourself. This was well worth my time.”

“I can’t believe you got Y/n all the way out here to prank Paddy.” Sam laughed and gave Paddy a gentle shove. Paddy snapped back to reality and looked at you in amazement.

“Actually, it’s not a prank.” You laughed, a little awkwardly and interlaced your fingers with Toms hand. Paddy’s eyes fell to your hands, and felt his body fill with pure teenage rage. His life long idol was standing in his living room, holding hands with his brother.

“You…” Paddy lifted a weak finger and pointed it at your hands. You and Tom nodded, only making Harry and Sam laugh harder.

“It’s nice to finally meet you guys.” You spoke up. “I had to beg Tom to let me. He thought it’d be weird but I think this is going great.”

“You wanted to meet me?” Paddy asked in disbelief, disregarding the rest of your statement. Tom gave him a strange look.

“Oh is absolutely brilliant.” Sam declared. “Greatest day of my life.”

“Paddy is having a stroke.” Harry said between laughs.

“Am not.” Paddy defended, harshly. “Just surprised, is all.”

“Are you two actually together? Like a proper couple?” Sam turned back to you.

“We are.” You confirmed. Harry and Sam looked impressed. Paddy looked furious.

“Why him?” Paddy blurted, making everyone look at him. You were surprise, Tom was annoyed, and Sam and Harry were having a ball. “I mean, you’re the most beautiful girl in the entire world. You could do a lot better than Tom. You could have anyone.”

Harry and Sam doubled over on the couch at his words.

“Thanks Paddy.” Tom said sarcastically. “I love you too.”

“He’s so cute.” You gushed to Tom, who rolled his eyes. You turned to Paddy and gave him a smile. “Thank you for saying that, sweetheart, but I love Tom. I don’t want anyone else.”

“He brings up a good point though.” Sam pointed out. “Y/n, you can tell us if you’re being held hostage. You don’t have to be in this relationship anymore.”

“I’m not being held hostage.” You smiled as Tom shot daggers at his brother. “I’m actually the one who kissed him.”

“Gross!” Paddy exclaimed, the rage returning at full speed.

“Where did you two lovebirds meet?” Hardy pressed, learning his head on his hands.

“The Emmys.” You answered. “I went up to Tom and told him how much I admired him.”

“You what?” Paddy sputtered. “Him?”

“This just keeps getting better and better.” Sam said, giving Harry a high five.

“And how long did you say you were together?” Harry continued.

“Ten months.” Tom answered proudly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Ten months?!” Paddy almost shouted.

“God, I wish I had this on camera.” Sam cried.

“I think we’ve had enough for today.” Tom said when he saw the situation getting out of hand. “Y/n and I are going out now. See you all later.”

“It was nice meeting you!” You called as Tom ushered you out the door.

“Did that just happen?” Paddy asked is disbelief. He couldn’t wrap his head around it, chalking the situation up to be nothing but a nightmare.

“You mean is Tom dating your dream girl? Yep.” Harry confirmed with a devilish smile.

“What does she see in him?” Paddy said with disgust.

“Maybe there’s something wrong with her.” Sam shrugged.

“There’s nothing wrong with her.” Paddy was quick to your defense. “She’s perfect.”

“Yeah. She is.” Harry agreed. “She’s also dating Tom.”

“Bleh.” Paddy grimaced. He shrunk down in his seat and folded his arms. All he could do was wait to see you again.

“I’m home.” Tom called as he entered his childhood home. Paddy came bounding into the room with an ecstatic smile.

“Oh.” Paddy said when he only saw Tom in the doorway. “It’s just you.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Tom said sarcastically as he stripped off his jacket.

“Where’s Y/n?” Paddy practically whined.

“I just dropped her off at home.” Tom told him, a little glad you weren’t there for Paddy to gawk at.

“You mean she didn’t want to eat dinner with us?” Harry called sarcastically from the other room.

“I can only imagine why.” Sam echoed.

“Why didn’t she come back here?” Paddy asked in disappointment.

“Maybe because I live with a bunch of HOOLIGANS,” Tom shouted the last word, “who don’t know how to behave.”

“I behaved.” Paddy folded his arms again.

“You just stared at her and asked why she was with me.” Tom pointed out.

“That’s a valid reaction.” Paddy held up his hands in defense.

“No it’s not.” Toms voice came out as a squeak. It was just as he suspected. They were getting weird.

“Come on Tom!” Paddy whined. “You just randomly dropped the bomb on us that you’ve been dating my idol for ten months. How was I supposed to react? You know I’ve loved her all my life.”

Before Tom could respond, Nikki called from the kitchen that dinner was ready. After dinner, and a few too many jaffa cakes, Paddy was bouncing up and down on the sofa in excitement.

“She called me cute!” He said through his ragged breathing. “Did you hear that Tom? She said I was cute. Did you hear it?”

“Yes.” Tom grumbled, not paying his little brother any attention.

“And you see when she called me sweetheart?” Paddy continued.

“Yes.” Tom said in the same tone.

“And how she said she was begging to meet me?” Paddy reminisced.

“Yes.” Tom said, a little louder.

“How hard did she beg? Did she want to meet all of us or just me? What did she say?” Paddy was begging to get on Toms nerves.

“Don’t get too excited.” Tom shot his brother down. “She wanted to meet everyone.”

“Did you hear that mum? She wanted to meet me.” Paddy exclaimed.

“That’s not what I said.” Tom grouched. He knew Paddy would react this way.

“Well, I think you did the right thing, baby.” Nikki smiled as she rubbed her thumb on Toms cheek. “I’m glad she finally met your brothers and got along with them so well.”

“If she got along with Harry, then she’s a keeper.” Dom remarked, glancing up from his newspaper.

“Why don’t you invite her over for dinner tomorrow?” Nikki suggested. “It can be our first meal as a family.”

“We’re not married, mum.” Tom laughed. “Not yet, anyway.”

“You guys won’t get married.” Paddy said, climbing off the couch and taking his seat at the table.

“Yeah, buddy, we will.” Tom told his little brother in the calmest way possible. “We’ve talked about getting married. I’ve even looked at rings. I’m just waiting for the right time to get one.”

“There’s no way you’re gonna marry Y/n. She’s-shes too good for you.” Paddy was getting visible upset. “She’s perfect. She can’t marry you.”

“Paddy, yes she can.” Tom said sternly, annoyed with his brothers reaction. “She loves me.”

“Boys.” Nikki interrupted. “I won’t have anymore fighting over this girl. Tom, don’t antagonize your brother. Paddy, Y/n is Toms girlfriend. I know she’s your favorite actress, but you have to respect them.”

“Whatever.” Paddy grumbled, having no intention of listening to his mother. “When can we see her next?”

Tom was about to respond with “never” when Nikki’s phone buzzed.

“I just texted her. She’ll be eating with us tomorrow.” Nikki informed the family. “Should I bake a cake? Does she like cake?”

“Can I sit next to her when she gets here?” Paddy asked.

“Only if you promise not to drool on her all night.” Harry teased.

“She’s my girlfriend. She’s sitting next to me.” Tom said firmly, attempting to set a boundary.

“Maybe I should make cupcakes instead.” Nikki whispered to herself.

“She can sit in the middle of us.” Paddy bartered. “Please? She’s my favorite person in the world, Tom.”

“Fine.” Tom gave in. “But don’t be weird.”

The dinner went perfectly, much to Toms surprise. It wasn’t until desert when the trouble began.

CONTINUED

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17

[sometimes-i-write-4-you]

Drunk words are sober thoughts - John B x reader.

request by @classygirlything​ :  Can I have a request for John b, and prompt 33 from random and 14 from fluff?

33: “Welcome back. Now fucking help me.”

14: They’re so cute when they’re asleep.”

a\n: this took so long but i think it was worth it

triggers: underage drinking, reader gets kinda drunk, some cursing (the occesional fucking, fuck and shit).

word count: 3277

-----

"guys, I have something to tell you" I said. We were hanging out at John B's house. John B JJ, Kie and Pope looked at me, waiting to hear what I have to say. "my dad got a job in Georgia, so we're moving" I finally gave them the news. "shit" JJ said, and I looked at him with eyes wide open. "don't worry, (y\n), I'll put money in the curse jar at home" JJ joked. "when are you leaving?" Kie asked. "next week, they want my dad to start as fast as possible or they'll take someone else" I replied. John was quiet, which was unusual for him. "John? Is everything okay?" I asked, and he nodded. "yeah, just… surprised. Do you have to go?" he asked, clearly sad. "yes" I laughed, "I don't have a choice. If I could I'd never leave you guys".

I got off the boat, and for the first time in the past year, my foot has stepped on the Outer Banks docks. John, JJ and Pope were all waiting for me there, holding up a sign with my name. I recognized them easily, they've barely changed. John B got taller, and his features became sharper. He was just as beautiful, but 15-year-old me never understood she like-liked him until I got to our new house. We were all still in touch via text, voice calls and video calls, but nothing compared to seeing them in real life. JJ and Pope wrapped their arms around me, and John B hugged us all from behind. "hey, guys, where's Kie?" I asked, sad to see my best friend is not here. We break the hug and start making our way toward John's van. "she's, uh, busy" John said. "too busy to come see me?" I ask. "John B kissed her and now she feels awkward to be around him. it was my bad, I told him to" JJ explains, and John B doesn't look too happy about JJ sharing his secret. "you did what?" I say, covering up my crushed hopes by laughing. "no, I think her dad just won't let her. He paid my bail money and wants nothing more to do with me" John says.

"bail money?!" I called, "John, what the fuck? I thought JJ is the law-breaker". "it's- look, with this whole thing going on with my dad-" he started as he opened the van's door like a gentleman. We all stepped inside, and he filled me in about the watch and Redfield, how he thought it was the watchtower, but the guy refused to talk, and then he accidently hurt the guy's arm. "and then Kie and I ran, and I gave her the watch-" "and a kiss" JJ contributed. "Then they brought us to the station, her dad bailed me, she gave me back the watch and I think we might never see her again" John finished the story as he pulled up by his house, or at least so I thought. "so then i'm making my way back home, and two guys that broke into my house-" "and tried to kill us" Pope reminds John, even though I heard these two stories over the phone, "-started chasing me and wanted the watch-" he said, and a few minitus later when we finally sat down in his house, he finished the story. "-so I gave her the watch, it's the safest, and I think I have to let this whole thing go. It's a good thing you just arrived, we can move on and it's gonna be like old times". "this- this is crazy" I sigh, "I mean… wow". "so, how's your new school?" Pope asks, taking step one towards forgetting this mess.

"weird" I reply, "it's like a teen age movie, the cheerleader is dating the quarterback, the nerdy girl turned cool suddenly and starts dating the charming jock. feels like I'm in a stupid Netflix movie, but as the best friend who's only personality trait is listening to the hero's problems". JJ smirks. "are you dating anyone?" John asks. I feel the blush covering my face, even though he's just making conversation. The year of not seeing him didn't cancel my stupid crush. "I was, but we broke up" I say, without any intention to reveal the reason. "oh, sorry to hear" John says, but JJ laughs and says "no, you're not". John glares at him, so I just leave it. "guys, I think I'll go see Kie" I finally say, "this place is way too messy, plus I'm supposed to stay with her for this week". "sure, yeah" John says, "do you want a ride?". "I'm going to her area to do some deliveries for my dad" Pope says, "so you can come with, I'll drop you by her house". "yeah, thanks Pope I said, taking his offer over John's. I wanted to look and see if he looks jealous, but that's childish.

I got to Kiara's house, and Pope helped me to carry my bags to her room. We cached up in her room, but I kept feeling like something is missing. "shit, I forgot my phone at John B's" I say. "oh" Kiara says, "well, I gotta go help my dad at the restaurant, but I believe my mom can give you a ride, she has some businesses down at the docks" Kie says, and in did, 30 minutes later I'm at John's. Anna dropped me close enough, and when I came closer, I noticed John throwing things out.

"welcome back" he smiles at me, "now fucking help me". And so I did. We cleaned up the house. After a few moments, John decided to throw the board with the watch's history on it into the pile as well. When he pulled out a lighter, I was surprised, but as everything started burning, I noticed something. "John, what was engraved on the watch?" I ask. "Redfield" he replies, "but-" "no buts, look!" I say and point at the burning board. "my great-great grandma" he says, light laugh of excitement escaping his lips. "oh, (y\n), that's amazing!" he says, pulling me into a hug. "yeah, maybe you'd like to save it from burning" I laugh. "oh, yeah, right" he says, grabbing a metal stick and pulling it out of the fire.

Soon enough, we were all in The Twinkie. Well. All of us expect Kie. "I'll go talk to her" John says, and a few minutes later he comes back with her. I don't ask, because I feel like they probably talked about the kiss, and about how they're going to date behind our backs.

We arrive at the graveyard as John explains to the rest how Redfield is not a place, but a person: Olivia Redfield. "help me with the door, come on" John breaks the silence before it gets awkward. "all right" Pope says, stepping forward and I do the same. The three of us trying to posh the door, but with no success. JJ jumps in and take my place, but it makes no difference.

"this door is like 700 ponds, it's not gonna budge" Pope says, but his hands stay pushing the door. "we didn't come this far to get this far, all right?" JJ says, "we got this-" a hissing cuts him off. The boys all back off from the door in unison. "that's a moccasin-" JJ says, "ye old cottonmouth, death in tall grass" he says, and start barking. "JJ shut up" Kie says, "shut up!". "you're gonna wake the dead" Pope says as JJ finally shuts up. "they're afraid of dogs, everybody knows that" JJ says.

"yeah, cause they're bigger and noisier. You know who else is bigger and noisier?" I say, "a group of teens, that's right. If only we had one of those…" the sarcasm in my tone makes John smirk, but he quickly shakes I off and asks us to stop bickering. "wait hold on" JJ says. "what?" the three of us ask in unison – Kie, John and me. "if there's one, there are probably dozens" he says.

"cottonmouths don't form nests or colonies or whatever, they're solitary" I say, calming down the group, since JJ started "barking at the snakes" again. "now, are we breaking into this grave or what?" I ask. "we're not going to get in there, alright? It's not budging" Pope reminds us, "we should probably just go". His voice is slightly shaking, clearly filled with a bit of fear.

"I can get through" I say. "what?" John B says, and he does not sound happy. "no, no, no, no. you think you can fit through the hole? That hole?". "look, it's about your dad. That man has done so much for me back when I was still living here, plus, I can't let you live with this question following you around, I know what's that like and it's not fun" I say. Sure, my question mark is "what could have been if I told John B I like him back when I was living here?", but still. "I'll do it" I say, and with that the subject is sealed. JJ is offering his services as a ladder. "3,2,1" he counts down and I pull myself through the hole. Pope passes me the flashlight through the hole, and I finally get to look around.

"you alive? Like, you have a- a heartbeat and everything?" I hear John B asking. I smile at the worry, "yeah, so far" I reply. The flashlight is barely enough. So I ask for more light. John puts the lantern up, close to the hole and soon enough I can see clearer. The grave is muddy and covered by weeds. Not the fun kind though, the scary kind that makes you feel like a Zombie is about to jump out and eat your brain. "do you need some help? I can join" Kie offers, but I spot a white envelope. "no need" I say, "found it".

I pass John the white envelope. "To bird" I say as I'm making my way put of the grave, "that's what your dad called you, right?". "yea" John replies, a smile on his face. Before we get the chance to open the envelope, we hear footsteps, and a flashlight shines at our direction. "shit, so you think it's Harry and Marv?" I say. "who?" JJ asks, confused, as we hide between the trees and the grave. "the burglars from 'home alone' " Pope explains. "oh" JJ says, but the realization doesn't hit. "oh!" he repeats, louder, meaning he got the joke. Kie shushes him. "right, yeah, sorry" JJ says.

We end up running away and make it to John's house and the only collateral is Pope's pants. I think it's a win – at least we all have our heartbeat. JJ's making himself a peanut butter mold sandwich, and we all sit together to open the envelope. JJ is off to throw the sandwich after one bite. "it's good for you, natural organism" I quote him. "shut up" JJ sigh as John opens the folded paper he pulled out from the envelope.

"holy shit" John says, looking down at the white and black map. "oh, X marks the spot" Pope says. "longitude, latitude" John mumbles, finger" going over the lines. "wait, there's something else here" John says all of a sudden, and pulls what looks like a recorder from the envelope. "what's that?" JJ asks. "it's a tape recorder, dumbass" Kie and I answer him. "jinx!" I say before she gets too. "shush" JJ shuts us up. John presses play, and his father's voice fills the room.

John's eyes glisten, and I can tell his about to cry. He gets up at the moment the voice message is over, going over to the door frame to hide his tears from us. "holy shit, he did it!" JJ calls, but me and Kie glare at him to hint it's not the time. "big John, he found the Merchant-" JJ keeps going, but Kie cuts him off while I make my way toward John B, resting a hand on his shoulder to turn him around. He hugs me tight, "(y\n)…". "it'll be okay" I promise.

We sit outside, at the dock, with beer and Kie's ukulele. She plays a few notes and I hum along. When we were little, we always wanted to start a band together. "how much was it again?" JJ asks, throwing a rock into the water. "four hundred mil" John replies. "all right, let's talk the split" JJ offers, "now, before you say 'evenly', may I remind you that I am the only one that can properly defend us from those.. Harry and Marv, was it? You know, the groupers who were after us" as he talks, he pulls out a gun I was never aware he had in his possession. "protection? not cheap, okay" JJ keeps going. "you haven't trained Pope disagrees, and I think that we all agree. "400 divided by 5.." John thinks out loud. "80 million dollars" Kie says, "what would you do with it, Pope?" she askes. "pay for college in advance" Pope answers, and I can't say I was surprised. "and also textbooks, those are expensive" he adds. "what about you, kie?" JJ asks. "yeah, what does a socialist do when she's rich?" Pope asks, already guessing her answer. "just wanna make a double album" Kie replies, "about OBX, the pogues... you know, the way 'catch a fire' was about Kingstone. Recorded it at Marley Studios, Peter Tosh producing". She sounded so happy talking about it, it was truly heartwarming, so of course Pope had to ruin the moment and pop the fantasy with his facts. "Peter Tosh is dead".

"Peter Tosh is dead, I know" Kie talks over him, spirit of Peter Tosh will never die" she raises her beer can. "I know what I'll do" JJ says, "I'm gonna get a big ass house on figure 8 and go full Kook". "you're gonna go full Kook?" I ask him, highlighting the "you're", like he can pull off being a Kook. "yup, gonna get a marble statue of myself and then I'm gonna get a koi pond" JJ said, causing us all to laugh, "put a bunch of those fish". "I'm never visiting" Kie says. "what are you gonna do?" Pope asks, looking at me. "I don't know, maybe I'll get my family to come back here. 80 mil dollars, who needs my dad job in Georgia? or we can make the company open a store or a factory here, and my dad can run it. I miss you guys" I say, "and you, JB?" I ask, looking at John, he looked perfect in the dim light, but I think he looks good in every lighting. "to going full Kook" he says, referring to JJ's answer. "to going full Kook" we repeat his words, raising our beers.

We started walking back to John B. I think I drank too much beer, because I could barley walk. I don't usually drink that much, but seeing John looking at Kie and knowing they kissed really ate me, so I wanted to blur that emotion. "hey, hey, carful there" John laughed, and hurried to grab my waist before I fall. I leaned onto him, letting him help me. It was nice. "I can't bring her home like this, my parents see her, and I'm never allowed to see you" Kie sighed. "well, she can just stay at John's" JJ offered. "yeah, sure" John said. "tell your parents she wanted to stay with us a bit longer and didn't want them to be mad at you so she stayed and you left" Pope helped, and it was settled. We got to his place, and John and I went inside, saying goodbye to our friends.

The first thing I did was run to the bathroom. "shit" John sighed and hurried after me. He held my hair back so that I can throw up without ruining it. "you want to take a shower?" he offered, "I'll get you a shirt to sleep in". "thanks" I whispered, and he was about to leave the room when I started puking again. "hey, easy, buddy" he said, reaching his hand out to pull my hair off of my face. "what happened? I never thought you'd be the type to drink like that" he asked. "I didn't like seeing you looking at Kiara all heart eyed" I confessed, too drunk to stop myself. "what are you-?"

"well, I know you kissed her, and you like her, but I like you and I planned to tell you but then when I heard-" I puke once again. "well, I think that's it" I say, getting up. I opened the tab and grained some water, passing the taste. "I'll get you some cookies" John said. "are they gonna be moldy?" I call after him. whatever. I take off my shirt and pants, leaving my swimsuit on since the bathroom door is still open. "okay, so here's the cookies, shirt and towel-" John starts, moving them away from his face and right back to blocking his sight. "relax, I have a swimsuit on" I laugh. "oh" he says, putting down the things. "well, shower, and we'll talk about this later" he smiles at me. "okay" I whisper, and his hand grab my forearm to pull me closer and kiss my forehead.

I enter John B's room. He's sitting on his bed, looking at the map we found earlier. "hey" he smiles at me and taps the open space next to him. I sit down. "I took a toothbrush from under the sink, I hope that's oka-" I say, and as I talk his hand grab my chin and pulls me to his face, crushing his lips against mine. I return the kiss, confused but happy. "good thing you did that" he laughs, breaking the kiss. I laugh. "uh, listen, I don't like Kie. She's cool, but just not that way. JJ convinced me to shoot my shot. Think about it, who was sitting next to Kiara?" he ends his speech with a question. "me, it was me" I say. "right. So who was I looking at?" he asks.

"me? Were you looking at me?" I ask, confused. "yes. Yeah, I was" he laughs, "in case it wasn't clear from the fact I kissed you, I like you".

The sun shined through the window. "oh, they’re so cute when they’re asleep" I hear who I'm guessing is Kiara say. "yeah… let's wake 'em up". Now, that was definitely JJ. "no need, we're awake" I say before Pope gets to scream. he calls it singing, but that's just an insult to music. "yeah" John agrees with me, stretching as he gets up and breaks the cuddle we fall asleep in.

"so, you two were all cuddled up" Kie says once the boys leave the room, "that means what I think it means?". "yeah, I hope so" I reply, getting up. "well, please, don't spare any detail" she says, sitting down on the bed. I sit back down. "well, so I was drunk-"

Meanwhile in the kitchen

"so what, you and (y\n) are a thing now?" Pope asks, "I'm just saying, you two were like. really close". "yeah, JB, you are such a player. Getting all the hot ones, first Kie, and now-" "shut up, JJ" John cuts him off, "I only kissed Kie cause you kept bugging me, and it almost ruined my chances with (y\n)". "so what, you actually like her?" JJ asks, "that's dope man".

[darth-el]

Shout With The Devil

Pairings: Steve x Buckley!Reader Warnings: Smoking, underage drinking, mentions of groupie like behaviour but only if you squint.  A/N: I am back, kind of. Life has been really crazy these past few months and it’s been majorly up and down, but I have found new inspirations (in the guise of 1980′s and dead rock stars...oops) so I figured I could use that my advantage when writing. It’s also worth mentioning here that the reader’s age is 20 so they’re not that much older than Steve. The interview I’m referencing, if anyone is interested, can also be found here.

Masterlist

Join my taglist here

You were dancing trying to keep warm on the doorstep of your cousin Robin's house with your suitcases by your side as the blistering cold whipped against your face. It was a rare occurrence for you to even step foot in Hawkins as you left it behind a long time ago but after hearing the news of what happened to the mall and everything else that made its way into the news regarding Hawkins, you finally plucked up to the courage to come back and used Christmas as the excuse to do so. “Come on Robin.” You whined to yourself as you rang the doorbell again before retreating into your coat to keep warm, after what felt like an eternity Robin opened the door with a shocked look on her face due to the fact she wasn't expecting you to be on her doorstep.

“What are you doing here Y/N?!” She screeched excitedly jumping on you to give you a tight hug and pulling you inside sans bags.

“I thought it was time I'd visit my baby cousin.” You shrugged smiling as she started babbling over how long it had been since she last saw you while bombarding you with questions about LA that you couldn't answer because she wouldn't stop talking.  

“Oh suitcases!” She said excitedly pushing you into the living room and running out to grab your bags. The living room was exactly how you remembered it, there were photos of Robin above the fireplace throughout her children as well as doilies and ornaments everywhere, it was a far cry from your roach infested apartment. It took you a minute before you noticed several sets of eyes on you and they all looked like you had crashed through the ceiling in a UFO, you leaned against the door frame unsure what to do with yourself as you became more uncomfortable; the longer the silence lasted the more you were convinced you had grown several heads. Robin came bouncing into the living room and pushed you onto the couch next the oldest guy that you vaguely recognised, possibly from school. “This is my cousin Y/N!” Robin introduced you with a big smile on her face. “This is Steve, Dustin, Lucas and Max.” They all awkwardly smiled and waved as Robin introduced them to you.

“Robin's never mentioned you.” Steve said awkwardly trying to make conversation.

“I don't know why she would,” You said matter of factly and she shot a look at you like she was offended by that statement. “I did essentially run away from Hawkins when I was fifteen Robin, we haven't seen each other in five years.” She looked at you almost like she was pouting before eventually agreeing that you had a point.

“Seriously?” Dustin asked eagerly sitting up with a huge grin on his face as he never met anyone who had run away from home and didn't get grounded for it.

“Where did you run away to?” Steve asked and instantly you could see he was trying to play it cool with you, something Robin also noticed.

“First New York,” You said biting your lip. “Then settled in Los Angeles as I needed warmth.” You laughed looking at the sets of eyes on you.

“How did you afford it?” Lucas said sounding skeptical as he tried to figure out how he could do it if he were to leave that day.

“A lot of hitchhiking.” You smiled at Lucas who was looking at you with furrowed brows not fully believing your story.

“Steve?” Robin said looking at him looking at you as you answered the children's, mainly Dustin's and Lucas', questions.

“Mm?” He hummed pulling his attention away from you to glare at Robin.

“Can you help me with Y/N's suitcases?” She asked slowly and instantly Steve knew she was up to something.

“Can't Dustin?” He asked wanting to avoid whatever she had planned which got a protest from Dustin.

“Well I want you to help.” Robin said in a sharp tone.

“Ha!” Dustin said loudly as Steve groaned pushing himself off the couch to help Robin as you continued to answer the barrage of questions.

Steve and Robin took longer than they should have with the bags and it was made clear why when you heard them coming down the stairs arguing quietly over something; the second Steve sat down next to you Robin had pulled you up off the couch and into the kitchen as she sorted out snacks for everyone. “Steve likes you.” Robin said as she rummaged through the cupboards for food.

“I know.” You said nonchalantly and sitting down at the table while fiddling with your lighter that you pulled out of your pocket.

“You should go for it,” She encouraged you as she dumped a whatever she could grab out of the cupboards onto the table. “If you've got to smoke, do it outside.” She warned like you were a child who was misbehaving.

“Rob,” You looked at her with shock on your face. “He's not my type and he's too young for me.” You sighed pulling a cigarette out of a silver case and placing it between your lips.

“I forgot your type was douchebag rockstars.” She said sarcastically as you got up so you could smoke your cigarette, or what was now going to be cigarettes in peace.

You were half way through smoking your second cigarette when the back door opened and Steve made an appearance, who made it very obvious that he had misjudged the temperature as he started shivering. You pulled out an engraved hip flask from your pocket and handed it to him making him look at you puzzled. “Trust me it'll help.” Your tone was very blasé as he took it from you and swigged the contents, immediately choking as what turned out to be whiskey burned the back of his throat.

“Are you trying to kill me?” He laughed handing the flask back and pulling his own cigarette from his pocket.

“Tell me you're not warm.” You smirked at him while having a swig yourself before shoving it back into your pocket.

“You have a point,” He chuckled lighting up his cigarette and staring out at the Buckley's backyard, the winter sun making it seem more inviting than it actually was. “What made you run off to New York?” Steve asked leaning over the porch, you subconsciously mirroring him.

“I wanted to marry Johnny Thunders.” You laughed admiring his features as he smoked his cigarette.

“Did you?” He asked jokingly raising an eyebrow at you.

“No comment.” You smirked at him, taking a drag on your own cigarette and as you exhaled you created O's with the smoke.

“Okay then,” Steve smiled with a knowing look on his face. “Why LA?” He continued his interrogation.

“I just needed something new and heard about a few bands in LA so I decided to make my way there and check them out,” You sighed picking at the skin around your nails. “It was either there or the UK, so naturally I chose LA.” You laughed looking at Steve who was looking like he was hanging on your every word.

“What bands?” Steve asked trying to figure out if he should feel threatened or not by you.

“Mainly Motley Crue.” With this Steve let out a huge laugh as the stories he heard on MTV were very far removed from anything that Hawkins had experienced.

“I can see you going for the devil worshippers.” He teased looking you up and down in your leather clad outfit.

“What makes you say that?” You nudged him lightly having another drag on your cigarette, realising it was probably going to be your last one.

“You look like you'd like the devil shouting song.” You burst out laughing at Steve's description of the song as you flicked your cigarette away and lit up another one.

“Shout At The Devil.” You tried to stop yourself from laughing but every time you did it just made you laugh even more.

“That's the one.” Steve said proudly clapping his hands together with a big smile on his face.

“They're shouting at the devil,” You teased gasping for air as you were still laughing. “Not with the devil and the cover has a pentagram which is used for protection against him.” You smiled up at him as he flicked his own cigarette away and lit up another without thinking.

“Did you end up marrying any of them?” He winked at you as you shook your head at him rolling your eyes so hard that you were sure you saw your brain. “I'll take that as no comment.” He said leaning into you slightly.

“Why are you so interested in what bands I 'married'?” You asked pulling out your whiskey and taking a swig of it to keep yourself warm before offering some to Steve who declined as he was taken aback by your forwardness.

“Do you want the truth or the lie?” Steve asked raising an eyebrow trying desperately to play it cool again, but you both knew that ship had sailed a long time ago.

“Lie.” You shrugged flicking the ash off your cigarette and watching it float down to the ground.

“It's definitely not because I want to ask you out or anything.” Steve said trying not to fall over his words and embarrass himself as that was becoming the trend with him as of late.

“Do you want the truth or the lie?” You said matching his tone from when he asked you the same question.

“Lie.” He said confidently and suddenly having a panic that this was how you were going to reject him. You could see he was becoming flustered as you left him hanging while you took a drag of your cigarette, making you feel somewhat cruel but at the same time you enjoyed the power you had in that moment.

“If you were to ask me,” You said slowly taking another drag on your cigarette and letting the smoke escape through your nose as you exhaled. “I definitely wouldn't say yes.” You whispered flicking your cigarette away and sauntered over to the backdoor. Steve just looked at you bewildered that he actually somehow managed to get a date and it was with you who seemed so effortlessly cool unlike him.

“Uhh.” He said trying to figure out what to say next as he watched you open the backdoor and you laughed as you could see his brain going into overdrive.

“Pick me up Friday at eight and remind me what this town has to offer.”  You winked at him as you leaned on the open door before going back inside, leaving Steve in the cold who was still trying to figure out what had happened and how he managed to pull that off. Eventually he decided not to question it and thanked the gods as he decided they were obviously being kind to him that day and joined you all in the living room as Robin put on Indiana Jones.

[hopesbarnes]

Date Night

Request from @hailmary-yramliah: okay maybe a chubby!bucky HC where he goes on a date with reader and he's super nervous and self-concious about his image. It gets worse when he actually hears a comment by someone but reader is quick to reassure him 

Here you go bb! It was so fun to write♥️

Okay so! Bucky spent years being just kept alive by machines and probably protein.

And after he was on the run in Bucharest, he started to learn how much better food was in modern times.

When he went to Wakanda and food was there and good he started to eat more. And the serum was a watered-down version of what Steve was given. So it eventually started to be less potent. And Bucky gained weight. 

He met you when he was already a little chubbier, and you never said anything to make it a big deal. In fact you were kind and loving and he had a huge crush on you.

And he planned to just die with that fact and never do anything about it, but you asked him on a date, and his dream was coming true so he agreed. 

The two of you had reservations at this nice Italian place downtown, one with candles on the table and an intimate vibe.

Bucky was nervous, he changed his tie four times before Natasha stepped in and told him to take the tie off altogether. (What he didn’t know was you were just as nervous and wore a dress to match his eyes)

When he met you at your door to leave he had to pause a moment to catch his breath. You were breathtaking and he had no idea why you would agree to go out with you. 

After you stumbled out a meek “Hi” and he responded the same way the two of you left for the restaurant. 

Both of you had been friends for some time. And he had stuffed his feelings for you so far down, and thought they would never in a million years come to anything. 

But now you were sitting next to him in a car, fidgeting with your dress hemline. 

And he has no idea what to say to the person he wants to marry.

So he makes a lame joke about a song on the radio, and you laugh nervously.

The actual date isn’t going that well either.

It’s awkward.

Like really awkward.

He doesn’t know what to say and he feels stressed out about how he looks and what he should eat. 

And It got worse when the waiter came by.

“Guessing a salad for you, huh man?” he said and bumped Bucky’s arm. 

He was mortified.

Bucky was just going to mumble an okay and have it over with. It was bad enough the guy brought up his weight but he didn’t want to ruin the date before it even really began.

But--

“He’ll have the Chicken Parmigiana, same as I because you have no right to comment on anybody’s weight or food choice,” you said closing your menu and shoving it into his hands.

The waiter mumbled a sorry and quickly left.

He looked down at his plate, kind of ashamed. 

“You didn’t need to do that,” Bucky said to you.

And your head snapped up so quickly.

You immediately shot that sentiment down. Can’t have your man thinking he has to act a certain way around you.

“Bucky I like you. For you. For how sweet you are and the way you treat me. And maybe your eyes. They’re really pretty. But besides that not how you look!” you admitted to him.

He blushed at the statement. The girl he was head over heels with not only defended him but admitted how much she liked him.

He was a goner.

But that was okay.

He’d be a goner for you.

After ordering went by the date turned around. You made a comment about a book you just read, and he surprisingly read it too. So you segway into talking about the book.

Then start talking about everything, and he makes you laugh (a sound he wants to be engraved in his head forever) 

You grab his hand midway through the dinner and just the fact he’s holding your hand is overwhelming to him. (He did spend decades alone)

And when the date comes to an end (after fighting over who pays for the check) the two of you drive back to the compound together. 

He’s still holding your hand, by the way.

And he walks you to your door and stutters with a way to say goodnight.

Until you reach up and kiss him.

It’s just a quick peck, but it makes his brain stop working, and his heart stutter. 

So he just takes a quick deep breath and goes for it and kisses you back. 

And the waiter’s rude remarks are far forgotten. They don’t mean anything when your soft lips, ones that taste vaguely of the chapstick you put on in the car, are moving against his.

You eventually (begrudgingly) pull back from the kiss and he smiles.

“Be my girl?” he asks

And you nod enthusiastically. 

“I’d be your girl even if you looked like a monkey, Buck,” you say and smile widely.

He found the best girl there is. 

[aureumjeon]

tiptoed his way (m) || kth

pairing; taehyung x reader. genre; roommate!au; smut; fluff; angst. warnings; breaking and entering, unintended voyeurism, female masturbation, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex via doggy style, choking, tae suffers from MSS(Monster Schlong Syndrome lol), that’s about it.  word count; 6.4K (unedited im sorry :()

summary; ➜ Taehyung found himself locked out of your shared home and there were only two options to successfully get inside. (1) Wake you up from your sleep and face the wrath that’ll follow, (2) Think like a burglar and enter through your window. (Un)fortunately for him, he picks the latter.

taglist; @bella-victoria002  @chaitaewithkookies @saddiesan  @wehadnochoice  @knjhe @thoughtsfromfaroffplaces @livorna @taetaeobsessed @erisann  @thoughtsfromfaroffplaces @wickizer

a/n: the old gif doesnt work i dunno what i did wrong :(

“I’ll be out ‘til late, y/n! Don’t wait up for me.” Taehyung hollered while lacing his worn out white high-cut converse in the entryway. Hoping his voice would reach the end of the hallway where you were currently cooped in in your room. 

 “Alright! Stay safe!” Not bothering to leave your room, you answered back. Voice echoing through and bouncing off the dry walls. After waiting a few minutes, you heard the door slam shut with a thud. You cautiously tiptoed your way to the direction of your door, slightly opening the solid block of wood and peeking through the narrow crack you made. With no Taehyung in sight, you pumped your fist in the air and cheered victoriously. You finally have the house to yourself. You beamed with delight scurrying yourself over to the kitchen to make yourself a hot steaming bowl of instant ramen. 

 Taehyung and Jungkook had been your room mates since you can remember. It was freshman year of college, and you were looking for a cheap place to stay with the money you saved up working as a part-time student during your last year of highschool. A friend had introduced you to Jungkook, saying they needed one more person to split the bill with, broke college students need to support each other. At first you were hesitant, a girl living with two boys in a shared house wasn’t you initial plan but as the days go by since you first moved it, you got to know Taehyung and Jungkook a little more. Your friendship with them had gotten greater, the three of you were inseverable and you treasured them to bits! 

 Although in the four years you’ve been boarding together, every now and then they can really get on your nerves; letting the dirty dishes stack up at the sink until molds would flourish on the left over food; leaving the empty carton of milk in the fridge just as you’re planning to enjoy it with cereal or maybe a pack of Oreos; bags of chips and boxes of pizza scattered on all parts of the living room floor whenever they’d have movie night on Fridays with Jimin and Hoseok; and last but not least, the thing that they always do that grinds your gears the most, their dirty laundry in every corner, nook, and cranny of the house. Stinky socks, sweaty shirts, crusty jeans and even used underwear, you name it!

One time you had guests over; all girls might you add, studying for a group project in chemistry. Oh poor, sweet Yeri… Her unsullied innocence mercilessly corrupted by Jungkook’s disgusting underwear that had a suspicious dried up patch of white something on the crotch area of the small fabric. Yeri almost fainted when she pulled out the article of clothing from the kitchen caddy, flinging it across the room to where the other girls were. You scolded Jungkook the same day, advising him to keep all his stuff where it needed to be kept and on top of that to apologize to the poor girl he scarred for life. Which he did, and that’s the story of how Jungkook and Yeri’s relationship began. Who knew, right?

 Taehyung was like Jungkook at first, but somehow he decided to stay under your radar as best as he could. Once you lectured him on something he’s done wrong inside the quarters of your home, he’d make it a point to engrave it on the back of his head. He has his fuck ups every now and then, but nothing too consequential. There was one time though, and you wish you could forget, that he brought a girl home which wasn’t against the house rules. Jungkook had brought Yeri numerous times and you, yourself, had your fair share of men visiting the house, specifically your room. It was s well established etiquette to keep the ruckus down since you we’re sharing this living space between the three of you. But during that critical time, which you’ve spoken to Taehyung and Jungkook beforehand never lacking to remind them on multiple occasions throughout that day. Telling them to please keep the noise to a minimum because you'll be revising for for a major exam that was equivalent to forty percent of your total grade. Somehow, Taehyung managed to forget your simple and completely doable request. With the paper thin walls between you and the absence of soundproofing, you were able to get every moan, groan and mewl that came from Taehyung’s rooms adjacent to yours. That bastard is so dead was the sole thing on your mind right now and not the words inscribed in the textbook that you’ve read over for the tenth time that night. The morning after that horrendous night of not getting anything done, you waited irksomely in the common room for taehyung and his date to emerge from his chambers. 

 “Y/n, y-you’re up early.” He gulped, taking in your appearance. Your gaze was piercing especially with the huge dark bags under your eyes. “I’ll take Minju ho--”

 “I’m sure she knows here way back.” You cut him off with a bark in your tone, “Can’t you, Minju?” Your focus was now directed at her and she was quivering under your constant scrutiny.“Y-yes,” She clutched on her designer handbag bowed nervously before fleeing the place like a prey encountering it’s predator.

 “I asked you for one thing, Taehyung, one thing.” You lowered your head and massaged your aching temples with your fingers, placating your exasperation towards the boy who was placed in the hot seat. “You knew I was studying tonight, Tae.” The timbre of your voice wasn’t sickeningly livid anymore. From spiking up to a hundred degrees in the last two minutes, it dropped down to a negative ten. “This test is worth forty percent of my grade, I told you that. This is the first time I requested you to do something for me...”  You shut your eyes close and drew out a long sigh before standing up and intending to head back to your room. “If I fail this test, I want to let you know it’s on you, Tae.”  His features were extremely devastated and disheartened, not because of the things you just said but because of how he had forgotten all about it. 

 You inconspicuously peered back at him and the look on his face says it all. A helpless puppy abandoned by its human, that’s what he resembled most at this moment. Big glassy eyes, a wet nose and pouty lips. Okay, that was kind of a mean thing to say, you thought. But you never failed to remind him, always opening up and squeezing in the topic during the mundane conversations you shared together. After one last disappointed sigh, you looked up the clock, 6:55 am. “Anyway, I still have three more hours before the test. I’ll be in my room.” You turned your back on him and proceeded to take a few steps forward before saying one last thing to him, “Please, please, please. Don’t bother me.”  You were on your way back down the hall, nothing will stop you from cramming seven chapters of lesson into your brain in less than three hours in one sitting.

 “Sorry, Y/n.”

 Sorry ain't gonna cut it, chief.

 Its as if Taehyung was able to read your mind, “ I’ll- I’ll be on bathroom duty. For two, no, four weeks. Yeah, yeah. One month of bathroom duty, Y/n. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to forget.”

 You glanced over your shoulder and caught a glimpse of Taehyung with his hands clasped together, his facial expression pleading for forgiveness. You knew he was really sorry. Why? Because nobody liked bathroom duty, not even you.

 “That seems fair to you, kook?” You spontaneously asked, making Taehyung scan the living room area. Glass started clattering in the kitchen and your doe-eyed bunny-boy of a roommate came hopping in. Taehyung was seeking compassion from his long-time comrade. Maybe shortening his time on bathroom duties or lending him a helping hand at least. Bros before hoes, right? “For the record.” Jungkook started, taking a sip from the cold banana milk bottle in his hand. “You kept me up, too. And I have football practice at eight.”  He shrugged his shoulders casually before hiding back in his man cave. “Have fun cleaning, Tae.” 

 Your chiding was for everyone’s best interest, may this incident serve as a lesson of respecting other people who also lives in this household. Although there was one thing you were still unsure about. After that episode, Taehyung has never set foot in the premises with a woman draped around his arm again. You hoped you did not terminate his hopes of getting a love life.

 In conclusion, they’re just a bunch of stupid college boys wanting to survive this hell hole, what do you expect? So, having the house to yourself was a once in a blue moon moment you’d never take for granted. 

++

It was two in the morning, and Taehyung was stupidly perched at the doorstep patting his pockets for what seemed like the tenth time in the last ten minutes searching for his keys. "Shit."  He grumbled under his breath, taking out his phone from his back pocket and calling up Jungkook's number. After the third try, he finally answered the call.

"H-hey, what's up? I love you and all that shit but why are you calling at two in the fucking morning?" The voice is the other line was dry and scratchy. 

"Ah," Taehyung felt apologetic for waking up the Jungkook but he absolutely needed help, "Sorry for bothering you, Kook. Do you happen to know where the spare key is? Left my copy in my room before I went out and now I'm locked out of the house," He laughed embarrassingly, attempting to check his pockets one more time before calling it quits, wishing his keys would magically turn up in one of them.

"Taehyung…" The line suddenly went silent, it was a good fifteen seconds before Jungkook went on speaking,"Didn't I tell you that I'm holding onto the spare key to have it duplicated since my I lost my copy?"

There it was again, complete and utter silence. If it wasn't for irregular breathing coming from the other line, Jungkook would've guessed Taehyung had dropped the call already.

"Just wake up y/n, I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Jungkook suggested, that was probably the best route to take. 

"No bro," Taehyung's tone was unnaturally dark and empty.

"Can I ask why?"

"L-Last time I locked myself out and woke up y/n," he choked on his series of words, recalling the traumatic event that occurred in the past. "She made me wait a whole hour before opening the door. While I was waiting out in the cold, y/n cooked bacon and pancakes at midnight just to spite me. The smell of the food made my stomach flip and growl. When she finally let me in, she ate it all by herself while looking me straight in the eye."

Jungkook on the other line laughed uproariously at Taehyung's untold story, "Remind me not to get on Y/n's bad side. But in all seriousness, how are you planning to get inside the house?" He queried the boy who was stuck in an unfortunate predicament."I don't get back til' Sunday. And it's only Friday."

Taehyung's eyes lit up like those light bulbs in cartoons when the characters gets a genius idea. "Is your room the one without the safety locks on the window?"

"One, no. My windows have safety locks. Y/n's window is the one without it. And two, that's a really bad Idea, Tae."

"What's a bad idea, babe?" Taehyung indistinctly overhears a hushed voice in the background. His conversation with Jungkook probably woke up Yeri too. "Oh, Taehyung's planning to enter through y/n window to get into the house." Jungkook made sure that taehyung was hearing what Yeri had to say, since she's been friends with y/n just as long as them. Her giggles were so innocent, akin to a baby but the words she said were the exact opposite. "That is a stupid idea, unless Taehyung wants to be hit on the head with a metal baseball bat and bleed to death." 

"Yeri said that that's a stupid idea unless you--"

"I heard what she said. And I won't even make a sound! I'll tiptoe my way through her window and out of her room in a flash! That way I'll be in the house and won't have to wake up y/n! I see this as an absolute win." Taehyung broadcasted triumphantly like he had discovered the map to the lost City of Atlantis. 

Yeri snatched the phone from her boyfriend's hand and lectured Taehyung y/n style. "Tae, this isn't the time to be quoting the Incredible Hulk when you're the one who's gonna be beaten to a pulp when y/n wakes up and mistakes you for a burglar. Just wake up y/n and ask her to open up the door for you. It can't be that bad, you'd live a longer life that way. Face the consequences of being a pee-brain."

"Nope," It seemed like Taehyung had made up his mind, and when Taehyung makes up his mind, there's no point in stopping him.

"Ahhh, tell your friend good luck. I'm going back to sleep." Yeri gave back the phone to her boyfriend. "You have our regards. If you don't die, call me back in the morning." A loud yawn can be heard from Jungkook's end as he hangs up.

And that's Taehyung's go signal.

++

He stealthily made his way round the perimeter of the house to the side where your room was located "Bingo." He mused as he spotted your window, slightly left ajar. He strategically maneuvered his way across the flower bed embedded on the ground, calculating his steps accurately not wanting to step on your precious roses and daffodils. He knows he can't lie to you, if asked who trampled on your bloom, he'd rat himself out in a blink of an eye. He'd like to enjoy a long flourishing life. Grow old, get married and possibly have kids and grandkids. 

Not like what he's about to commit will spare his life either way.

 Even with the lack of light and the gauzy material of the curtain, his eyes could make up your vague figure on the bed, tossing and shifting your legs about. Must be some crazy dream you're having, he thought. Though he can't get a clear view of you, he's certain you were there.

 He sucked in a deep breath and slowly pushed the unlocked window wider just enough so that he can slither his body inside, dragging the curtain along with it. He prayed to the heavens above that the hinges doesn't make a sound, not even a tiny squeak or his head will be the one hanging from the valances.

 With his hands securely clasped on the window sill, he utilized his upper body strength to propel himself up until his knees were secured on the narrow wooden surface. "Phew" he shakily exhaled, switching from his current kneeling position to a crouching one, gaining more balance for his following steps. 

 Before fully entering your room now that he had obtained a better view, he decided to take a proper look at your charming unconscious face. Wait, scratch that, that didn’t come out right. What he meant to conclude was… 

When Jungkook first introduced you to him as their new flatmate, he couldn’t help but be blown away. He was thunderstruck when he was graced by your overwhelming presence. Soft silky hair that he’d like to get bury his face in, letting the scent of your shampoo take over his senses; Round bright eyes that somehow carried the countless stars and galaxies, he’d willingly surrender himself just to get lost in them. A lovely button nose that scrunched up when you smiled and introduced yourself for the first time. “I’m Y/n, nice to finally meet you Taehyung.” he remembered clearly, god, how can he forget. Your soft-spoken voice perfectly fitted your delicate face. It was love at first sight, what else could it be? He fell for you hook, line and sinker. 

 He covertly watched over you, not in the stalker-ish way, of course. Whenever you’re lounging around in your favorite pajamas or simply tidying up the house, he’d inevitably find a small smile creep up on his lips. Even just knowing that you’re inside the house when he comes home from the university by the way your favourite music was blaring from your room made him happy. He learned along the way that you were really introverted, spending most of your weekends at home reading your favourite novels  and choosing to withdraw yourself from the generic college scene. Opting for a movie night date with your friends rather than partying at some musty frat house. Moreover, you didn’t strike up any conversation with him or Jungkook unless it was about the house or if it was that important to talk about. Unbeknownst to you, all the things you detested like unwashed dishes or misplaced dirty laundry, he did it on purpose just to get the attention he craved from you. Sometimes he felt guilty at the way he acted whenever you were around, a pout or two on your upset face.

 But he came to the point that he was tired of hiding and playing safe behind that thin line called “Friendship.”If he wasn’t gonna man-up and take action, nothing’s gonna change. So on your twentieth birthday, that’s when he decided he wanted to confess his love for you, hoping that the unrequited becomes requited. He bought a cake and decorated the whole house with a banner, balloons and streamers. He even paid Jungkook fifty dollars to keep his mouth shut about it. 

 What happened after was far from his or Jungkook's expectations. You came home from a date. A date which none of them knew about but here you were, wide eyed and jubilant to see the simple surprise party your dear roommates took the time to prepare for you. You introduced the boy standing next to you as your boyfriend. "Boyfriend" that word stung like a bitch. 

 It was then that he decided to put an end to this one-sided pinning that has been going on for quite some time now that hasn't bloomed into anything, not even a tiny sprout. If the stars were aligning and the universe was really on his side, he would have been your boyfriend by the end of the day, not some guy named Lucas. 

 Every other night he'd return with a girl to his room for nothing more than a quick fuck, never meeting with them for a second time. He thought it was something that would dull the agonizing throb in his chest, it worked for the most part. The bodily pleasure those women brought him made him forget momentarily about everything he's ever felt for you. He thought it was only a matter of time until all the feelings he'd kept would dissipate into thin air. 

 Minju, he recalled. A girl who was just as perfect as you in his eyes, well almost. With the thought of taking Minju home and having her all to himself as a priority in his mind, he got carried away and overlooked one critical thing you asked of him which was on top of that a principal house rule the three of you agreed on. "Always keep the noise to a minimum."

 He knew he fucked up the moment he spots you sitting on the couch glaring at him as he and Minju walked out of his room. He saw the look of disappointment etched on your face at how he had let you down and recognized how bad he fucked up. He thought that you’d never forgive him and end up hating him for the rest of his life, but you always kept proving him wrong. A familiar box was atop the center island with a pink sticky note attached to it. 

"I'm sorry I got mad at you, Tae. It was probably the stress talking. Btw, I passed aced the exam! Hehe. <3 y/n.”

That was when he realized he truly did not deserve you. 

++

His profound daydreaming was put to a halt when he heard a hushed moan originate from your direction. His jaw almost unhinged at how low and wide it was hanging from his face at the sight he has failed to notice prior to entering your room. A convoluted expression was apparent on your face, with your brows knitted together, and eyes shut tight, upper teeth frustratingly nibbling at your bottom lip. Your left hand hidden under the sheer fabric of your shirt, kneading at your mound lavishly while the fingers on your other hand were tirelessly circling around the glistening flesh between you spread legs. You weren’t sleeping, you were masturbating! 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Gotta get out. Gotta get out. Gotta get-- 

 His whole life flashed before his eyes as he witnessed the mason jar you used as a flower pot unexpectedly gets knocked over by his rogue foot, emanating in a clangorous noise as it hit the seat of your metal chair tucked under your desk. There were numerous circumstances that he wished he could get out of certain situations unscathed, which as luck would have it he did. This one? Not so much as your instincts urged you to direct your attention to where the abrupt sound came from. He saw your bewildered eyes staring at his squatting figure by your window.

 Taehyung quickly slammed his palms over his face concealing his eyes while blindly steering his body farther into your room, knocking over your other stuff in the process. As his feet finally met solid ground, it was now time to plead for his life. “Y/n! Shit! I-I can e-explain. I l-left my keys! A-and I didn't want to wake you up. I didn't mean seeing that!" He heard the sound of his rapid heart beat resonate in his ears, ringing so loudly that he couldn't even hear himself think.

 You found his flustered stuttering adorable and endearing. You weren't angry and knew he was telling the truth. Taehyung, no matter how brazen and badly behaved he was, has not ever lied to you. You can take his word for this one but a little teasing hasn't killed anyone. “Never perceived you as the peeping type, Tae."

 "I swear, I'm not!" His cheeks started burning red, the scorching heat of embarrassment crawling up to his ears and down his neck.

 You didn't answer him right away, and all he could make up with his vision temporarily impaired was the shuffling sound of your bedding and the indistinct footsteps walking towards him. "Well since you're here, might as well help your roommate out." You whispered suggestively in his ear, and he felt his jeans grow a little tighter by the crotch.

You pressed your body against his until the corner of your desk was painfully digging into his back. "What do you say, Tae?"

 "I-I don't think this is right." He respired weakly, his knees were starting to buckle at the figurative weight weighing down on his shoulders with palms still stuck to his eyes.

 "Wanna know what I think." You purred salaciously, the tip of your pointer finger lightly tracing over the skin of his clavicle. "I don't think this is a question of what's right and wrong," Your hand started to head south, stopping precisely at his sternum, your fingers drawing small figure eights over it. "I'm single, your single."You further proved your claim, hand once again dropping lower. Taehyung wasn't much of a gym rat like Jungkook or Jimin so he didn't have any abs. But you still appreciated his body nonetheless, especially paired with his remarkably attractive face. "I see this as a question of want and don't want. And judging from this," without warning, you cupped the hard-on he was sporting. Waves of electricity surged through his blood vessel, every cell in his body had doubled its working pace. "You want this as much as I do." Slowly, you palmed him through his jeans, fingers molding the curve of his clothed dick. His heart rate spiked and breathing got more labored with your words and actions.

He wanted to see you. He wanted to remove his hand from his face and see how the moonlight shining through your window illuminated your appearance, enhancing your elegant features tenfold but he was terrified that this will lead to something that will eventually ruin your friendship.

 "Taehyung..." You whimpered, starting to feel impatient. "Say something. Tell me what you want. Tell me to stop, please just say something." 

 "I-I," Fuck it, he thought. He detached his hands from his eyes and encased it around your petite torso, finally giving in to the treacherous temptation that is you. "I want you, y/n." He dipped his face in the curve of your neck, filling himself  up with the sweet scent of you. "I've wanted you for the longest time, y/n." His voice was guttural and strained, he'd never thought the time of him finally confessing to you would come. It required him every tendril of his being to finally come clean. An abandoned door that was once locked has instantly been pushed open, and his desire for you has never been more ardent.

"I want you too, Tae."

++

Moments later you've found yourselves entangled within each other's embrace, caught in a sweltering and heart racing make out session. Every brush of lips and prod of tongue was burning of lust and passion. The way your fingers intertwined with his and filling its spaces perfectly like the final piece of an unfinished puzzle. It felt so natural, the way the rise and fall of your breathing and the tempo of your pulses fell in sync. It felt like something that should've been done ages ago but was hindered by something unforeseen.

 As he hovered above your frame, you couldn't help but be drawn in the boundless sea of his deep hazel eyes. Wisp of his curled lashes resting prettily on his eyelids, the tip of his pointed nose dusted a shade of baby pink and lips pursed into a gentle smile. He observed you with hooded eyes as you absentmindedly stared at his face. You couldn't comprehend how a mere human can bear this much beauty and elegance in his mortal body, even the gods would seethe in jealousy at his splendor.

 "T-tae. I want to feel your dick down my throat." You professed bashfully, marvelling at his beauty can wait. Right now there was one thing you fervently wish for, him and his entirety. 

 Your bluntness was always one of his favourite traits of yours. "I'm all yours." He replied, placing an affectionate kiss on your lips. 

 "Stand at the edge of the bed." You instructed, going on all fours and crawling your way to the same spot. "C'mon!" 

 Taehyung with arched brows headed to where you wanted him, planting his feet firmly on the carpeted floor. "Okay, now what?"

 "I've always wanted to try like this." You pressed on, lying on your back with your head almost hanging off the edge of the bed, slightly propping it up with a small pillow. Taehyung was caught off guard with your new position, “Y/n, what are you doing?” He queried with an arch of his brows.

 “I’m ready to take your dick.” You seemed determined, sweeping your loosened hair away from your face and tucking it behind your ears. “Saw this in porn before and I’ve been itching to try it out.

 You just kept pulling out tricks from your sleeve, Taehyung never imagined you to be the type who watches porn. “You watch porn?” He incredulously questioned eyes going wide that hinted inquisitiveness.

 “Oh please, I am a human being. Stop looking at me like I’m some saint. I can watch adult videos whenever I want to.” 

 “Fair enough,” He acknowledged while unbuckling his belt, revealing the stiff bulge tucked in his boxer. He tugged the garterized hem of his underwear down and allowed his member to spring free.

 You were genuinely astounded with his impressive size and girth, tip red and already leaking pre-cum. “From all the years we’ve been living together, I kinda expected you were big, but not this big. Didn’t know you were suffering from MSS.” 

 “MSS?” he eyed you outlandishly, having no idea what you were talking about.

 “Monster Schlong Syndrome.” You answered as you tried suppressing the mischievous smile forcing its way onto your lips. 

 “Shut up, Y/n.” Taehyung’s cheeks grew rosier at your compliment about his dick, but he still preferred being humble about his size even when he was with other girls.

 “Make me,” You provoked him, opening your mouth fully and sticking out your tongue. Feeling rather wolfish to have him in your mouth.

 “Are you sure about this?” He queried you one last time, making sure you were a hundred percent okay with this. “I’m the one beginning to feel uncomfortable with your position.”

 “I’m fine, Tae. I want this.” 

 He couldn’t help stroking himself while taking in the image of you sprawled on the bed eyes totally blown-out. Begging and lusting over his cock. Taehyung gently tapped his length on your cheek,causing a smirk to form on your lips. “Stopped teasing,” You wailed vexingly, growing eager by the second. You tossed your head back even further while opening your mouth much wider, giving Taehyung a greater angle.

 “You ready, baby?” His already deep voice dropped an octave lower, a sultry and sickeningly honeyed tone slathered all over his words. You crossed your legs together feeling the steamy heat pool between them as you nod fervently. 

 Unhurriedly, Taehyung pushed the tip of his cock past your lips. The warmth and wetness of your mouth elicited a satisfied groan from him. He pushed even further down your throat, sheathing himself completely and noticing how tight the space has gotten as he descends. “Fuck, baby. Your mouth feels so good,” he euphorically moaned seeing how your pretty mouth is stretched by his thick cock.

You blissfully purred at his praise, and the vibrations of your throat around his member sent a chill down his spine. “I-I’ll start moving, okay.” He choked on his word, his senses brimming over with the buzz of pleasure. At a leisurely pace, he began gliding his dick in and out of your hot cavern, hearing lewd squelching sounds  with every push. “Shit,” He rasped when you hollow your cheeks around him. “Your mouth is the best, baby.” He quickened the speed of his thrusts, savouring the constricted hold you’ve got on him. Tears started to pool at the corners of your eyes as your mouth was bombarded with the repetitive jabbing motion. You’ve never felt this full before, the way he has you gorged put you in a state of pure ecstasy.

 Taehyung shifted his veiny hand to caress your face, wiping away the wetness from your corners of your eyes. With his balls slapping right into your face, you failed to capture his pupils dilate and the concupiscent glint in his dark orbs. His hand found its way at the base of your neck, favouring the tug of the skin, muscles and bones outlined beneath the surface. His slender, bony fingers spread across the expanses of your neck, petting the strained muscle domestically. His digits started to curl around the base, the blunt of his fingernails digging into your skin and you felt the restriction of air affect your lungs.

Taehyung knew you were enjoying this as much as he was even with you gagging and choking on his dick. He exerted more pressure on your jugular, and you felt your body sink further into the mattress. He thwarted his hips into you once more, deeper than before as his wanton howls reverberated inside your room. Before he could blow his load in your mouth, he stopped himself and pulled out his swollen cock coated with your spit.

 You opened your eyes and griped at the sudden sensation of barrenness, "W-why'd you stop?" You felt light headed, your body eventually recognized the lack of oxygen you underwent. Your chest hurriedly heaved up and down as you were gasping for air, trying to catch your breath.

 "This is my first time fucking you, the only place I'll be cumming in right now is your pussy." Taehyung wickedly grinned, looping his arms behind your neck and knees and carried you bridal style. He walked over the side and carefully lowered you on the bed, head snuggly resting on the pillow leaned on the headboard. He made his way back to the foot of the bed, taking a seat directly in front of your bare core. "Since I interrupted you earlier," his hands began stroking you calf, tiny goosebumps springing up from his touch. "Let me make it up to you and make you feel better than those little fingers of yours."

 You detected a hint of embarrassment as Taehyung's gaze focuses on you already seeping sex. He began crawling closer to you core, tipping in to pepper kisses on your inner thighs. As his warm breath began rousing over your skin, you couldn't help but clench around nothingness at the level of arousal you were experiencing. "What were you thinking about when you were pleasuring yourself?" He cooed the question out before licking a wet stripe along your moistened slit. His tongue was dancing in his mouth after finally acquiring a taste of your delectable nectar. "I-I was thinking about you, Tae." You answered weakly, the pad of his thumb now circling your sensitive nub. He hummed in approval at you words, his tongue was the one promptly to devote its undivided attention to you bundle of nerves. "What was I doing then?"

 You released a long exhale when you felt Taehyung slip on of his slender fingers inside your hole. "I-I thought about how you'd fuck me with your huge cock," You admitted, shutting your eyes as he twirls his finger inside you. He inserted another digit, and it got you tossing your head back in fervor. "How you'd make me cum so hard.”Your eyes reeled back at the back of your head as another finger slips into you with such ease. 

 “You’re soaking wet, y/n.” he was prideful of how you’ve become putty under his ministrations, “And all for me.” He sloped down once more and flicked your clit with his wet muscles at an excruciating pace. You started feeling yourself clench around his digits, “W-wait.” You intervened, not wanting to release just yet. “I want to cum with you.” 

 He devilishly grinned from ear to ear and flipped your body over, your knees and palm bearing the weight of your exhausted body. “Wanna hit you from the back so bad.”

 You lowered your torso and arched your back inwards, excessively sticking your ass up on full display. Taehyung smeared the accumulated pre-cum on the tip of his cock all over his length, painting it with the lubricating substance. He aligned himself with your entrance and gingerly drove his hips forward until he bottomed out. “Fuck, y/n. You’re cunt’s even tighter than your pretty mouth.” the interior walls of your vagina squeezed at his member, accommodating his length incomparably. “Your pussy was made for me, y/n. Best pussy I’ve ever had.”

 As much as you fancied him to rant about how amazing your pussy was, you wished he’d just shut up and pound you into oblivion and put an end to the tormenting ache bubbling inside you. “Move.” You sought, pushing your rear end against him hard and coaxing him to ultimately move.

 His knuckles were turning white at how tight he’s gripping onto the curve of your hips, nails engraving small crescent-shaped marks on your skin. Without warning, he launched the onslaught of the brute ramming of his dick into you. Each thrust he bore were insanely crisp and accurate, striking your sweet spot with every jab. The sound of skin slapping against skin and your heavy breathes were the only tunes filling the silent space of your room. Taehyung pulled out his length almost completely, appreciating how coated and soaked it was with your juices, awakening another entire level of his vehement lust for you. He slammed himself back into your tight slit, clenching his buttocks and rutting his pelvis at an inhuman speed.

 “I’m so close, Taehyung.” You wailed sinfully with a high-pitched strain to your voice, aware at how every muscle in your body is tensing up. 

 “Me too, baby.” He unexpectedly towed you by your hair until your back collided with his chest. His hand located your neck yet again, wrapping his digits around it and cutting your intake of air. You swear that at the end of this, your neck would be sore, purple and bruised because of how robust he retains his grip on you. At this point, his movements began getting sloppier and imprecise, suggesting he was at last getting to his most sought-after high. His idle hand shakily made its way to your almost forgotten clit, ruthlessly rubbing at it with the pad of his fore and middle finger continuously until you were convulsing around his cock and milking him down  to the last drop. Both of your body collapsed on your bed, utterly breathless.

 “Wow.” Taehyung managed to breath out. 

 “Yeah, wow.” You repeat, steadying your breathing. “What happens now?” You awkwardly asked, staring at the blank ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in your room. 

 “Wanna go on a date?” His voice was filled with reluctance, the thrumming in his chest never calming down. Now wasn't the perfect time to ask you that kind of question. So he braced himself as he waited for your answer.

 You turned your head in his direction and looked at how the light from the now open window magically outlined his enchanting profile. “You’re way out of order but I’d love too.” 

++

Taehyung's obnoxious ringtone Disturbed the silence of your sleep.

"Your phone is ringing." You grumbled, t

"Yo, Tae, glad to hear you're still alive. Got into the house yet?"

"Yeah," He paused, looking at you. "Got into y/n pants as well."