#and just burn through them all until there's no bottles or fuel cans left on the map

[yoshistory]

there should be an amnesia bunker achievement for burning every last drop of fuel possible in a save file and then going into blackout called like, "Indefinite Darkness" or something. or "Dark Descent" lol. or "You Fucked Up Now"

[jeoseungsaja]

🍸 + "what do you need to move on?" ( for hyuk in arc two 🥺 but i also know that's gonna get realll sad- feel free to skip any if all of them, alex!! and please have a wonderful day too <3 )

@ofgentleresolve ♚ from x.

♔ ———–

    Sitting on the stairs that lead to his shabby office, a bottle of clear liquor is latched to his scarred hand. He usually doesn’t drink like this, prefers to use his sorrows as fuel to catch the justice he so ardently seeks. However, there are days where he finds himself in some kind of profound, oceanic hole without an exit; struggling to climb up and feel the air that his lungs so desperately need. These moments feel like heavy bricks attached to his ankles, dragging him toward deep sea; moments where his memories hurt more than giving him any kind of solace; moments where he knows his friend is a ghost and fervently wishes he wasn’t (but that’s not going to make Patrick rise out of his grave, is it?). 

   A hiccup, he tries to stand up and stumbles a little; long arm managing to get looped around the dilapidated rail. God, he hates this. Hates that the alcohol does nothing to numb the emotions bubbling within him; hates that the bottle is only making him more prone to speak about the things he’s been saving up since forever; hates that he feels helpless --- hates that he misses him so much, the yearning alone could burn an entire hole in his heart; pierce it permanently. 

   Stubborn as a mule, he still fights to walk down the stairs as a question echoes through. Who’s asking this? Who’s saying it? Is it his own head or is it someone who managed to see him in this shameful state? Suki is supposed to be back at his apartment to get some sleep; Jae-Hwan left about three hours ago --- there shouldn’t be anyone else around here but him and his heavy heart; him and this doltish idea of getting drunk. Feet get dragged on the last block of stairs and when he lets go of the rail, he has to lean in and support himself on the dirty windowsill. Fingers dig into the stained wood; a hand leaving the bottle on the window’s stool. 

   What do you need to move on? Can he even do it? Move on from losing someone he knew and loved for years? Move on from the lack of justice his best friend was given? Move on from experiencing misery that seems to portray an immense valley with drained flowers and vicious tentacles that keep extending themselves? Will there be a day where he doesn’t feel like this? Where he doesn’t latch onto a specific file that he’s re-read a thousand times; where he doesn’t stare with ache at the Lily of the Valley sitting near his desk, where he doesn’t graze the tattoo engraved inside his wrist with a close-lipped simper that wishes to break into tears. 

    There he goes again, trembling fingers pulling his sleeve down, if only to see the permanent drawing sitting on his skin --- an ode to him; an important piece he will always carry with him. 

    Until the end, and then a little more.

   “Maybe...a new...a new heart or...a new brain, I--I don’t know.” 

    He has to, one day, right? One day. He knows Patrick wouldn’t like him to sink like this --- he was always his anchor, the one who cheered him on. But it’s just...tough. Even after all these years. Losing him wasn’t easy and so, moving on isn’t easy, either. 

   “Sometimes I’m...waiting to wake up from a long nightmare. Hoping that...it’s just that, all of this. A nightmare. But it’s real, it’s all real---” 

    Even if his head sometimes plays tricks on him, he’s aware of this sour, stinging reality. His jaw clenches; hand brusquely moving to let the bottle drop onto the floor. It shatters into humid pieces, staining the floor. He breathes through his nose; closes his eyes. 

   “The people who did this to him...they need to pay. They need to get what they truly deserve. And I...I won’t rest until that happens. May--maybe then, I’ll be able to move on.” 

   Maybe.    Perhaps.    Who knows.

———– ♔

[bike42]

Tuesday July 23

Back to Windigo (6.9 miles)

Apple Watch 7.24 miles, total time 3:28, 28’ average with break time, 558ft elevation

The rain tapered off during the night, and it was the coldest night so far. I used the head mummy function on my sleeping bag which is very rare for me! It was still plenty dark outside when the alarm went off at 5am. We dressed and packed up the tent using our headlamps, and when we emerged from the tent you could just see a faint light through the thick canopy of trees.

Jeff started the stove to boil water - turns out we had too much white gas (fuel for the stove), so he burned some off … but we just didn’t know! We had hot drinks and granola with powdered reconstituted milk for a quick breakfast. We cleaned up, finished packing and were hiking out of camp at 7:02am. The sky was overcast, so in the dull light it was still kind of tough to see - didn’t need the headlamp though!

We hiked 0.4 miles to the junction of the Greenstone Ridge Trail, then took a left. We were moving fast, as this gang can do when they’re motivated! We took several short breaks, and one extended break, and had the fastest average pace of this trip. With about 2 miles to go, I dropped back and enjoyed the forest. It was clear we were going to have about 4 hours before our scheduled flight!

The trail was really nice today, hardly any foliage obscuring the trail. The weather was perfect - nice breeze and thin high clouds.

Jeff had been scanning the ridge lines, determined to see a wolf, but that would be unlikely. We saw some probable scat, but didn’t hear them at night as I did last time I was backpacking here 25 years ago.

We arrived back at Windigo about 10:30am. Gary stopped at the store and bought tokens for us all to shower. I didn’t have clean clothes, other than the yoga pants and tank top I’ve been sleeping in, but I took a hot 5 minute shower anyway and it felt fantastic.

When everyone had showered, we met on the deck of the store. Most of us bought lunch, I had a nice cold beer with my sandwich. Then I felt a nap coming on, so I went and laid on a picnic table and fell asleep so hard I had no idea where I was when I awoke!

About then, we got word that our flight was delayed until 7pm due to mechanical issues. Ugh. We’re largely a good natured group, and took it in stride, but we sure hoped would not be camping another night!!

Jeff and I went inside for ice cream. I turned my phone off airplane mode, and looked at what messages came in. There is a super weak guest WiFi at the Ranger Station - not enough for beginning to post my blog though.

I unfurled our tent and dried and cleaned it up - it did well in the rain last night, but a lot of dirt had splashed up onto it. Felt good to have that taken care of! That spurred a lot of action from our group, opening their packs and drying things out - it looked like a yard sale on the back deck!!

After everything was repacked, we relocated to the front deck to a table out of the sun. A plane came in about 4pm, and the guys rushed down to the dock to chat with the pilot. He said the bad news was this wasn’t our plane, but the good news is our plane will likely come tonight!

Tam went into the store and bought a bottle of wine. We enjoyed the breeze and the view from the deck. Dan spotted a female moose splashing around in the water along the distant shore - so cool!! A little later someone noticed a cow and calf in the shallow water! Intermittently, we’d go back into the store for more drinks and food: soup, pulled pork sandwiches, snacks - it was cheap and convenient!

At 5:30p, an off duty ranger came to entertain on the deck with his acoustic guitar and some original songs. The funniest was GIARDIA sung to Van Morrison’s “Gloria!” We enjoyed the music, and were very excited to see our plane arrive at 6:30pm! We threw on our packs, for a last hike to the dock.

There we met the pilot, Steve, who like Mike, inspired great confidence! He explained some of the issues today - weather in Grand Marais, then this plane lost the alternator. He “dead headed” back to Michigan and changed it out. Because of the direction of the wind, we taxied out pretty far, then back towards Windigo when we took off. Fun to see the people on the deck waving to us.

Also because of the wind direction, we flew over the island, which the Park Service discourages. On this flight, we used the headset communication devices to talk with Steve. The guys, especially Kent, were really into talking about the engine and the gauges.

We landed about 7:30p, which is actually 6:30p in Wisconsin … off schedule, but the best airplane delay I’ve ever experienced!

Kent drove us back to NorthStar, arriving around 9pm, although it felt much later than that after such a long day and early start. Tam and I took a sauna, I had a shower and happily fell into my comfortable bed.

Wednesday morning we had eggs, bacon and toast - easier to be cooking in the kitchen. We lingered around the table, talking about highlights of the trip. Tam presented us with a large rock - I’d admired it on the beach and unbeknownst to me, she'd picked it up and they’d all signed it with a sharpie … it must have added an additional 5 pounds to her pack!! Dan read us the poem he’d written for our trip - making us laugh and cry as always. They all left mid morning, making me a bit sad another adventure has come to a close, but as always, working on plans for the next one!

[verycherry1]

Pike Roast {Carmen Berzatto | Pt.3}

Part one

Part two

There was a yawn bobbing up his throat, he blinks tightly trying to swallow it down. The technique stopped working after the third yawn caused his eyes to water, he slipped his phone out from his back pocket. 

8:30pm.

The well-known coffee chain was just a five-minute walk, he was certain he could manage to make it in time before they closed at 9. He desperately needed the caffeine to pull him through clearing out the remaining shelves before renovations began the following morning. He didn’t give it another thought before he was sprinting out the door of The Beef, marching down the strip of Chicago. 

The city was louder for a Wednesday night. Bars are at a little bit more capacity than usual. Despite the uproar of college kids cackling from each bar, he was caught off guard by a familiar yelp from a chatty tavern steps away. He studied the way you threw your head back, laughing in slow motion, balancing the stem of your beer bottle between your fingers all in one motion. Beautiful. He thought to himself, swallowing the lump that knotted in his throat as he watched you gush at the backward hat that was spewing nothing but slurred bullshit across from you. He felt his blood pressure begin to increase, palms sweaty from clenching his fist so tight at the unsettling sight in front of him. 

Does he know that you hate cilantro? He thought to himself, sizing up the generic frat-like fucker that was making you bust your gut with laughter. Had this mystery man already made his way into the solitary of your studio? And seen your ridiculous collection of coffee mugs you showed Carmen the first night he slept over? Had this man already filled the void on Carmen’s side of your bed? Using his set of knives to prepare meals for you, or the ashtray you specifically bought for him to ash on your patio. Did you burn his white cotton tees to replace with the new man’s threads to wear to bed? Are you showing up to his work with Pike Roast? 

Did you even fucking miss him? Carmen ingested his heart from his throat, turning away from the mockery in front of him. No longer feeling the need for the liquid adrenaline, but rather, a burning poison from a shot glass. 

He slammed the restaurant door behind him thinking of your toothy grin flashing at a man that wasn’t him. It wasn’t long until his fist collided with the paper-thin wall, justifying that it was to help with renovations, not his anger that was fueled by you moving on. 

—

The renovations only kept his mind occupied for so long. No matter how hard he tried to flee from his thoughts, the jealousy lingered. He couldn’t even look at the clock without visualizing what you were doing right now. Let alone whom you were doing. His curiosity got the better of him after another long day of remodeling at the restaurant, convincing himself he was just dropping by your apartment to retrieve his set of knives. Amongst other belongings, he had left. 

He shifts from one foot to the other, gawking at the door he once pushed your frame against during a heated make-out session. His fist bundled in his wool jacket, sweating at the motion of pulling them out and colliding them onto the frame, heart pounding louder than his knocks. 

You didn’t give him much time to prepare, within seconds the door unfastened. He knew it wasn’t off to a good start by the sigh that escaped your lips. 

You roll your eyes, flickering your wrist to look at your watch, jutting your chin out signaling him to get started. 

“Y’er new man here?” he questions, trying not to make it obvious his eyes were looking past your height and into your apartment. 

“I seem to be misunderstanding how that’s any of your business?” You catch on, bringing the door closer to your hip to close the visible space. 

His blue eyes flicker to your agitated ones. “Is he?” 

“My boyfriend? No, just a hobby.” You smirk, matter of fact like. 

“Can I come inside then?” He asks in a faint mutter, trying his best to brush off your snarky remarks. 

“Absolutely not.” 

He sighs, running his fingers through his matted curls growing impatient with how difficult you’re being. “Why not?”

“Because you’re not welcome here Carmen.” You tell him before verbally stabbing him with his own words, “we’re not a couple.” As if he hadn’t spent this entire month licking his wounds, you managed to form another gash.

 “You don’t have to keep reminding me that I fucked up.” He mumbled, blankly staring into your rage. 

You’d grown irritated at this point, rolling your eyes once more. “Then stop randomly showing up at my apartment.” 

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N). ” He blurts in an outburst before you can swing the door shut. Not similar to the tone he yelled with but, more of a desperate crack in his voice. It was so foreign that it left you stuck, pausing any insults you had left. 

His hand rubbed the back of his head, looking back and forth down the hallway anxiously. “I-I wasn’t fair to you. I wasn’t nice to you, and I’m sorry..” There’s a tired look in his eyes that stopped up your throat.

“You..” he resumes, only to pause again. He brings his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose, hoping it’ll assist him to formulate something, anything coherent before his anxiety gets the best of him. “you have a really big heart, and I uhh, I guess that’s overwhelming because I..um” he stops once more, too overstimulated because he doesn’t even know where to begin with getting you to understand his absolute mess of a thought process. “Because I don’t come from a very affectionate background. And and-“ 

“Carm..” you whisper cautiously, trying to defuse his sudden departure of fight or flight. 

“I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, I had uhh… a stutter when I was kid, I was scared to speak half the time..” he confesses, avoiding any contact with you. 

“Carmy..” you try again. 

“I got shitty grades because I couldn’t pay attention half the time.. I didn’t get into college..” 

“Carmen..” you try once more in the same faint whisper but he’s already lost all sense of self-control that his words just spiral into word vomit. 

“I didn’t have any girlfriends, I don’t think I’m funny..” he lets out a weak laugh, taking his closed fist and compressing it to his chest, hoping the ball will prevent his chest from closing in on him before he can tell you everything from his heart. 

“Car-“

“My brother stopped letting me into the restaurant a couple of years ago, just cut me off cold. And umm.. that hurt y’know? Made me feel rejected, and lame, and shitty and uncoo-“

You grab his entire face, feeling the heat from his cheeks releasing in the palm of your hands. “Carmen, enough.”  

Obeying, all he can do is plead with his watered-down eyes. Like he’s telling you he’s trying and he knows he fucked up but that he doesn’t know what to do with all of his emotions at once. 

“M’sorry.. M’sofuckin sorry..” he mutters, sliding his rough hands over your silk-like fingers. 

“Carm, breathe..” You coo, still cradling his face while stroking either side of his cheeks causing him to release a deep sigh of exhaustion. The weight of his entire head immediately eased into your embrace. Even if he wanted to convince you how sorry he was, his energy ran low. 

“Please don’t make me go home..” he whispers, clinging to your hands that haven’t let go of his face. 

He can’t go home, he doesn’t want to go home. Whether or not he wanted to admit it, aside from the restaurant - you’re the only home he knows. 

His calloused thumbs are continuously rubbing over the back of your hands. “Can I- Can I please come inside?” he asks in a shakey tone, bracing himself for you to tell him to get lost.

But you don’t. Instead, you pull his face to reach your own, silencing any other apologies with your lips over his. He immediately sighs into your mouth, feeling the majority of the knot in his chest decompress. You keep the pace slow, but Carmen wants nothing more than to make up for the lost time. He grinned against your mouth when his strength lifted you off the surface causing a yelp to escape from your lips. Your legs immediately draped around his waist as he carried you inside, only to unravel from his figure when he tossed you gently onto the bed. Carmen wasted no time stripping from his layers, first with his shirt as he studied you with such attentiveness that he didn’t bother with the rest of his clothes. All he wanted was to please you. 

The tips of your fingers learned the intricacies of the prompt veins down up his biceps, your mouth stamping wet kisses to the juncture between his neck and shoulder while he hovered over you. He wasted no time with you, engulfing each whimper from your lips and squeeze of your muscles around his fingers. His tongue told him exactly where he needed to be and he never relented. Never strayed. He studied your squirms from the heave of your breast and the tuck of your bottom lip between your teeth. The way your muscles spasmed as you chanted his name. 

Through hitched breaths, you reminded  Carmen with each kitten lick he flicked that no one ever made you feel this undone, this fucking good. Your fingers intertwined in his mane as he trailed his lips up the curve of her body.

“Hmm, so what are we going to do about that boy toy of yours?” He questioned as he pressed his hips against yours. Angling your head back so he can kiss along your throat, gently biting. 

His question made you huff, blush on your face as you smiled with your lip between your teeth. On instinct, your thighs cradled his hips between them and he placed his hands beside your head. Your glazed eyes stare up at him between your feathered lashes. There was a crooked curve of his mouth while he admired your frame under his. 

“I’ve grown quite bored of that hobby.” You confess to him, pulling his lips back to yours getting lost between your sheets for the rest of the day. 

[earlgreydream]

time for us.

| loki x reader | angst | fluff |

anon requested. loki has been working a lot lately and hasn’t really had anytime for the reader and he completely forgets about their anniversary and she doesn’t tell him for a couple of days but then he snaps at her and they have a huge argument

a/n: this doesn’t have any spoilers for the show— just mention that Loki works for the TVA (which isn’t canon at the time of me writing this)

You loathed Loki’s new job, working for the Time Variance Authority.

Ever since Loki began at the TVA, they’d managed to occupy nearly all of his time and energy, leaving little to none left for you. Your relationship was strong, but only a few weeks of work had put a strain on the two of you.

He’d become more short tempered, and easily agitated. You tried to be patient, but little things seemed to antagonize you, and soon every small thing was becoming huge.

Above all, you hated to fight with Loki. You bottled up your frustration, shoving them down inside of you and keeping them hidden and locked away. Your limited time with Loki was precious, and you didn’t want to poison it with your annoyance. However, it was doing damage that you hadn’t yet comprehended, building a pressurized weapon that was bound to explode.

It took weeks, but the explosion came.

.

Loki had been so caught up in work that he missed your anniversary. It had escaped his mind entirely, passing like any other day. He was distracted by variants running wild, and the need to please his new boss. He felt responsible for things that were going wrong, and he had put your relationship on the backburner.

You’d been certain he’d take you out during the night, or at least do something to acknowledge the anniversary of your love, but you’d been dead wrong. You waited at home as hours passed, and when his normal arrival time had long passed, the pain in your chest grew until your entire body was throbbing with hurt.

You took your makeup off, along with the pretty dress you wore-- the green one that your husband adored.

Loki had stayed late at work, taking overtime and showing up just before ten. You were so hurt you could hardly speak, but Loki’s mind was too muddled with work to even notice. You were already in bed when he returned home, and he’d kissed your forehead and gone to sleep with less than five words leaving his lips.

You laid awake in bed that night, staring at the wall. You should have told Loki you were angry, said something then and at least gotten it in the open. But you shoved it down with everything else— every other hurt and grievance and annoyance that poisoned you.

.

“Can you set that down, please?” You asked, four days later. You tried to keep your tone even, but you were impatient. The bite in your words was all you could do to keep from tearing the file from his delicate hands.

Loki was in the kitchen, his face buried in a variant case file. He was supposed to be helping you make dinner, but you were dismissed and cast aside once again as his work outshined you.

“I’m working, Y/N! It’s important. Don’t you want me to get paid so you can have your pretty things?” Loki snapped, shocking you.

“No!” You screamed, slamming the cabinet door shut.

He stared at you, turquoise eyes wide in shock at your outburst. He dropped the file on the counter, a harsh glare adorning his stunning face.

“No, Loki! I don’t fucking care about the pretty things. I don’t even know that I care about YOU!” The words were coming out before you could stop them.

“You don’t care about me?! All I ever do is for you!” Loki met your anger, matching your energy and only fueling the fire of rage that was building in your stomach.

“You’re such a selfish liar! You don’t give a fuck about me, Loki! You’re in a relationship with your bullshit job, you don’t give a damn about me! All of your time and your energy... and fuck, even your kindness goes to the stupid fucking TVA!! There’s nothing left for me, and I don’t want your scraps!” You shoved him back when he took a step toward you.

“I’m selfish? You’re needy and dramatic! You’re a spoiled brat, acting out when not every ounce of my attention is being given to you. What, you’re mad that I didn’t help you make this salad? Grow up, Y/N!” Loki’s hateful words poured out, tasting like acid in his mouth.

“No! I’m mad that you forgot our anniversary and that you haven’t seen how much you’ve hurt me!” Tears burned as they streamed down your face, blurring your vision that was bleeding at the edges.

Loki’s lips parted, and realization suddenly crossed his features. He took a step back, recognizing his anger had spiraled out of control, and that your anger was justified.

“I didn’t mean it… I do care about you, I just want you to care about me.” Your voice broke, and shaky hands went to your mouth, stifling a sob. Guilt swelled in Loki’s chest as he saw you fall apart, unable to bear the weight of your anger.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t know how I’ve forgotten. Please, my love, forgive me,” Loki’s tone softened, and he knelt down to his knees before you.

He didn’t care about the messy floors ruining his perfect suit, nothing mattered to him then except for you.

“I shouldn’t have gotten so angry, I just miss you,” you were weeping, unable to hold the sobs at bay.

“It’s okay, scream and cry if you need to, but know I love you more than anything and I am terribly, terribly sorry.”

Loki gently pulled you forward, closing his arms around you. His forehead rested against your stomach, and you laid your hands on top of his head.

“I know. I know,” you stammered in shaky breaths. Your fingers trembled as you dragged them through his hair, overwhelmed with every emotion that washed over you all at once.

.

You got home from work, a couple of days after your fight. You had both apologized, easing the tension over. Loki hadn’t stopped apologizing, even when you promised him it was okay. It had been better since-- you weren’t keeping secrets or harboring anger, and you felt exceedingly better in the aftermath of your fight.

You walked into your master suite, considering a hot bath or a shower after your day. You were lost in your thoughts as you kicked your shoes off, before turning to the bed. A dress was laid out on the end of the bed, glittery heels and jewelry in a box beside it. Loki wasn’t home, but a note was attached, telling you to get dressed and he’d meet you.

You smiled, lifting the black cocktail dress. You changed, fixing your hair and makeup in the mirror. Your day at work had been long, and you didn’t know what Loki had in store for you, but you were excited.

The lock clicked open on the door, signaling the arrival of your husband. You stepped into the foyer to greet him, met with Loki in an all-black suit. A grin spread across his expression as he noticed you, making warmth bloom in your chest.

“You look-” you both started at the same time.

You smiled and tilted your head, letting him speak.

“You look beautiful,” Loki spoke softly before giving you a kiss.

“Thank you. You look sharp. What’s the occasion, what are we doing?”

“I’m so sorry I missed our anniversary. I thought we could celebrate us tonight.”

You broke into a grin, nodding excitedly.

“Yes. Yes, let’s do it.”

“Of course. Let me set my things down,” he kissed your cheek and stepped into your master, cleaning up and dropping his bag.

.

You were driven to a fancy restaurant, one hand in Loki’s as the other smoothed over the wheel of his black sports car. He dropped the keys with a valet, and you were escorted to a table in the back of the place.

“Wine, Mrs. Laufeyson?”

“Please,” you nodded, and the waiter poured you a glass of sparkling pink moscato.

“I’ve gotten us a suite at the resort in the city. I have a bag packed for you in the car, I thought we could enjoy a weekend away. You deserve it,” Loki brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

“You’re spoiling me,” you giggled, sipping your wine.

“As I should be.”

Elaborate French dishes were brought out on gorgeous plates, looking like something from a food blog. It tasted divine, and Loki told you some history about the dish from some time he was living or traveling in Paris. You listened to his animated stories, thinking about how you were so in love with him. 

“Why’re you staring at me like that?” Loki laughed softly, spooning sorbet into your mouth.

“Because I love you. And you’re charming and cute when you get excited,” you confessed with a grin. 

“I love you too. I’m sorry about everything,” he apologized. 

“It’s okay. We’re past it. Time moves forward for us.”

Loki nodded, leaning forward and smearing a kiss over your temple before retrieving your car from the valet.

“To the hotel?” he asked, sliding his hands over your hips and kissing your neck as you waited.

“Okay,” you giggled, squirming in his arms. 

He squeezed your bum, making you gasp before opening the door for you, helping you into the passenger seat. 

When you arrived at the hotel, there was a bouquet of roses on the table, and candles burning around. He kissed the back of your head, setting your bag down for you.

“Let me make this up to you,” his voice was deep as he unzipped your dress.

“Please,” you smiled, turning in his arms and pulling him into a heated kiss. 

[estrel]

Are You Happy? (Save Them Some Pie)

HAPPY 42ND BIRTHDAY, DEAN!! this is my gift to him for being my comfort person that i would hug on sight if given the chance 💗 love you dude, may you indulge in copious amounts of pie. ~ 1.5k words.

also dedicated to marlo ( @heller-jensen ), jace ( @thiscastielhasflown ) and dee ( @castee-yel ) thanks for bein real ones <3

[READ ON AO3]

The day had already started out weird enough.

Dean had woken up drenched in sweat, mind racing with the last lingering thoughts of a nightmare. A vamp nest that he and Sam had been hunting, Dean dying in the most ludicrous way possible, and driving Baby down a long road for an indiscriminate amount of time in a supposed heaven that his father (his father) also co-habited. Needless to say, the dream had come out of nowhere, but it was easy enough to forget once the smell of bacon made its way into his room.

Breakfast was hardy and quick, with enough coffee to fuel him for the rest of the day as he skimmed the internet for a possible case. He had the itch, but apparently, looking around at the three sleepy faces around him at the table, no one else did.

He packed up anyway, preparing for what would likely be an easy salt-n-burn; he’d be gone for only a few hours, tops. On his way out, Cas stops him before he can scale the stairs, arm gripping his shoulder tightly. There’s a memory, briefly—the same hand, the same shoulder. Blood.

Dean looks down at it. Back at Cas.

“…Yeah?”

After a moment, Cas lets go. He steps back half an inch as if he had forgotten himself. “Just…be careful.”

Dean nods, moving to leave again, taking the awkwardness as both a Cas thing and a morning thing and content to leave it at that. 

“And,” Cas says. Dean turns back.

“Come home.”

//

Dean picks up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Dean, hey! It’s, uh. It’s me. Krissy?”

Dean feels himself begin to smile, mindful of the road ahead of him. He balances his phone on his thigh while he drives.

“Hey, kid! Long time no call. How are you? Everything okay?”

The case had been as easy as Dean had suspected, but he had that familiar muscle ache and heaviness to his eyes that solo cases usually gave him.

Besides that, he was getting a little confused about all of the calls he’d been getting today. Before Krissy, it had been Garth, and before that, Claire and Jody and…

“Uh, yeah, dude, everything’s good. Um. How are you? How’s Sam and that angel of yours?”

Dean swallows to keep from choking, or potentially crashing the car.

“They’re good. Yeah…good.” Alive, he wants to say, back from the dead, probably in the DeanCave watching Scooby Doo without him. “Sorry, Krissy, ah,” he steps off the break to make a left, “I’m actually on my way home right now. Was there something I could help you with?”

There’s a pause, and Dean chances a glance at his phone to see if the call had dropped off. It hadn’t.

“Krissy?”

“I,” she huffs in what sounds like a laugh, “Nothing, Dean. You get home safe, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

“And hey,” Krissy says, before he can say his goodbyes, “Uh, make sure you save some pie for everybody else.”

Dean’s eyebrows furrow a bit, but he laughs. “I will. Take care of yourself.”

“Bye, Dean.”

“Ba-bye.”

//

Dean’s still mulling over the pie comment when he nearly falls down the stairs, squinting into the darkness of the Bunker.

“What the hell?” he asks, voice hoarse around the high note. “Guys?”

When there’s no immediate answer, Dean’s instincts kick in. He pulls out his gun and gently drops his bag, waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust so he can try for the stairs.

Before he can, though, the lights kick back on. His gaze locks onto the scene below, and Dean slowly lowers his gun.

“Happy birthday!” Jack says, the sound of a party horn whining shortly after. Beside him, Cas pulls the string of a party popper, and he jerks as bits of confetti fall around him and into his hair.

Skeptically, Dean starts descending down the stairs.

“You…this…” he manages.

“It’s your birthday, dumbass,” Sam says, swooping forward to slap a party hat on Dean’s head as soon as he’s made the landing. He smiles.

“Oh…kay.” Around them, the Bunker looks pretty normal. The only difference is the array of pies on one of the library tables, next to what looks like home made rice krispie treats, and a couple of birthday-themed plates and napkins. That, and the confetti from Cas’ party popper that litters the floor. “Are you sure?”

Cas frowns at Sam. “Sam was certain. I can’t imagine he’d get the day wrong, but he has had quite severe brain trauma over the years. Perhaps…” Cas reaches out to Sam’s head, probably intent on searching his brain for said trauma, or for the date of Dean’s actual birthday. Sam swats his hand away.

“Hey, no. My trauma is fine. Dean,” Sam redirects his attention to him, “It’s today. Did you really forget?”

Dean shrugs, trying to piece the day together from the beginning. Shitty dream, good breakfast, the three of them weirdly insisting on staying at the Bunker…the calls. Save some pie for everybody else.

He laughs. “So that’s what she meant.”

“That’s what who meant?” Jack asks. He’s wearing a party hat, too, with ridiculous stripes of blue and pink and purple patterned onto it. It matches the one currently strapped to Dean’s own. He shakes his head.

“You’re telling me all of you knew? This whole time? And…and…” He looks around again, pointing vaguely at the table and the confetti. “You put this all together for me?”

Sam shoves his arm playfully. “Course we did. Now quit pouting and come eat some pie.”

//

Sam is fast asleep, sprawled out on the couch hours later with one of his hands brushing the floor. Dean thinks he spots drool on the pillow underneath him. 

Cas has been quiet next to Dean, at least since Jack had disappeared into the kitchen an hour ago and hadn’t come back, thoughtfully tracing the lip of his beer bottle with his finger. 

“Something on your mind?” Dean asks, because he wants to know.

Cas continues unbothered. Scooby Doo reruns play in the background. Dean almost repeats the question, but Cas eventually lifts his gaze to stare at him.

“Are you happy?” 

Dean presses his mouth shut. Licks his lips. He takes just as long to answer.

“You know what,” he smiles. “I think I am.”

Cas smiles back at him, soft and genuine. The skin around his eyes crinkling tells more than the gentle upturn of his mouth. 

Dean swallows, nervously putting his beer down and turning it a few times until his fingers are wet with the condensation. 

“What, uh. What about you?” He swallows again. “You happy?”

What he really wants to ask, though, is if they were good. If, after recent events, they were still the same. If Cas was still fine with “just being.”

He’s quiet again. Dean thinks he deserves that, and tries to pay attention to the TV, but the voice in his head is too loud. Cas has to tap his knee to get his attention again.

“Hm?”

“I was saying,” he moves his hand back, “that I’m sorry I didn’t get you a gift.”

Dean stares at him. “What are you talking about?”

Cas looks confused, like he’s about to repeat what he just said. Dean stops him short with a wave of his hand. 

“Dude, you just got back from the dead, alright? That’s—that’s gift enough to last me a lifetime. Don’t worry about a gift.”

Cas frowns, and Dean rolls his eyes. It’s another few moments of tense silence, until Dean breaks it, his heart pounding in his chest.

“But, uh,” he says, “I might have a gift for you.”

“Dean, we don’t share a birthday. It’s not customary to gift me something, especially when I haven’t given you—“

“Cas,” he groans, officially putting his beer aside and facing him. Cas’ features are lit up with the colors of the TV. Dean reaches a hand up to pluck confetti from his hair, a green piece that he’d been eyeing all night. Hesitating, he lets his hand fall to Cas’ face, smoothing over his cheek and jaw. The TV paints his cheekbone purple. Dean brushes his thumb over it. “Just...shut up and let me do this.” 

Cas tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed in that way of his, and Dean thinks he looks perfect. When he dips forward and presses their lips together, it’s perfect, perfect, perfect. He’s warm, his face is burning, eyes almost watering when he pulls away.

Dean lets his forehead rest on Cas’, heartbeat still crazy. He closes his eyes. “We can have it, Cas. This. We can have this.”

Cas takes Dean’s face in his hands, lifts it a little to bring them face to face again, so that he’s looking into Dean’s eyes.

“I’d like that, Dean,” he says, and his eyes are wet, too. Happy, Dean thinks.

“Your gift to me?” Dean manages, smile wobbly. He’s teasing, trying to bring down the weight of this without getting rid of all of it. He likes this type of adrenaline rush, different from any hunt he’s been on. Better.

Cas smiles. “I think technically it was you that gifted me, but, yes. My gift to you, if you’ll take it.”

“Gladly,” Dean says.

Cas hums back, brushing his fingers through the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck. “Happy birthday, Dean.” He leaves a kiss on his forehead.

Happy. 

Dean thinks, for the first time, as he pulls more confetti from Cas’ hair, that it actually is. 

—

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[irrelevantwriter]

Problem With You

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, banter as foreplay, mental warfare, Rio being jealous...and admitting it (toxicity at its finest)

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: Part 2. You decide you aren't going to let Rio affect you. Good luck with that. 

A/N: You guys do not even understand how much I appreciate the love and support I’ve gotten for my Rio fic! Really, truly. Ya’ll know how to make a girl feel special and because of that, I wrote like a madwoman. Seriously. @likedovesinthewnd​ can attest to that fact lol. So here we have a part two for House Call. If you haven’t read that, I highly recommend you do. Only because I added some plot this time around. Ya girl is riding this Rio wave as far as it’ll take me, so strap in because a bitch is plottin’. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Read Part 3 here

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

***********************

You laughed to hide the expression of boredom you wore as you walked up the driveway to your house. Luke, your date, hovered behind you, an obvious look of hope in his green eyes.

It wasn’t happening.

“I had a really great time tonight.” He said with a sheepish smile, his boyish grin doing nothing for you.

“It was fun.” You lied, taking a step back to make your getaway.

Luke matched your movement as he started to lean in close, his intention clear. And unwanted.

“Hey, mama…”

The voice made you jump, forcing your date to move back and out of your space. You turned to your right to see Rio leaning against your parked car, legs crossed at the ankle and hands stuffed deep into the pockets of a black jacket. He was ominous looking. Mysterious, with that hint of danger that seemed to follow him everywhere. His dark eyes were trained solely on you, ignoring the other man just feet away.

“You know this guy?” Luke asked with an amateur bravado that made you want to cringe.

The men couldn’t have been more different. You knew of Luke from little league soccer. He was the father to one of the boy’s on your son’s team. He’d been divorced for a few years and had made his interest in you known once you and Paul had split. And after your rendezvous with Rio nearly two months ago, you were itching for something...anything that made you feel half as alive as you had that day.

It was not going well.

“Family friend.” You replied, gaze still captivated by the man in black.

Rio chuckled at your answer, but didn’t say anything to refute it.

“Are you-,” Luke started, addressing you with a concerned lilt to his voice.

“I’ll talk to you later. I’ve got some stuff to deal with.” You cut him off, leaving no room for argument.

Thankfully, he took the hint and nodded, pulling his car keys from his pocket. “I’ll call you.”

“Okay.” You said simply, desperately wanting him to leave you and Rio alone. The situation was beyond awkward for you. It was uncomfortable to have Rio present to view something so personal. And you could tell he was sizing Luke up, the smirk on his face saying exactly what he thought about your date for the evening.

Luke gave you and Rio one last wary glance before he was walking down your drive and to his parked car. You waited until he’d driven away before you faced Rio full on, eyebrow quirked up in annoyance.

“What’re you doing here?”

He didn’t answer you.

Instead, he straightened and began to walk in your direction, eyes appraising you and your dress. You stiffened your spine, unwilling to let him see you so flustered. That game was getting old. He would pounce on your nervousness, manipulate it to his advantage. You weren’t going to let that happen again.

In the weeks since you and Rio had slept together, he’d made his attraction for you obvious. The drop-offs were now moments for him to flirt, attempting to keep you in an anxiety-riddled state for his enjoyment. He liked to see you affected by his presence. You didn’t.

You’d regretted sleeping with him the moment it happened. You didn’t want to be involved in that aspect of his life when you were so entrenched in his business operations. It wasn’t a good look. And chances were, Rio wasn’t the type to take on a divorced mother of two from the suburbs. He led a very different life from yours. He was looking for someone to fill his needs in the moment. Nothing more, nothing less. But that’s not what you wanted. Least that’s what you told yourself.

At this point it was more about self preservation than anything else. And with Rio, your need to protect yourself was on high alert at all times. Be it your life or your dignity.

“Who was the guy?” He finally asked, his strides bringing him close enough for you to smell his cologne.

“Friend.”

“PTA or little league?” He taunted with a knowing smile.

You hated that you were that predictable. That he could read you so easily.

“Does it matter?” You snidely retorted, tightening your grasp around the black clutch gripped in your right hand.

“Nah, it doesn’t.” He replied smoothly, licking his lips...lips that you’d tasted...lips that you wanted to taste again. “We gotta talk.” He continued, face growing serious.

The shift in mood made dread knot your stomach. You swallowed thickly, eyes darting to the darkened houses and empty streets in your neighborhood.

“Inside.” You gestured behind you and turned away, leading him to your front door. You walked the steps up to your porch, not hearing him follow at first. You knew what the reason was. You’d worn a fairly modest black dress on your date with Luke. The garment hugged your figure with a high neck and long sleeves, the length stopping at your knees. The eye-catching feature of the dress was the back...or lack of. It was backless and it’d apparently gotten the attention of more than just your date tonight.

You struggled with your keys in the lock, feeling his gaze burn hot across your naked back. You shivered and sucked in a breath when you felt a delicate brush of a finger dance along your spine, his body heat now crowding you. His breath was warm against your neck, the suddenness of his actions making your head spin.

“S’cold out here. You’re shaking.” He rasped into your ear, finger still trailing in a sensual pattern against your flesh.

“It’s not the cold.” You said flatly, finally pushing open the door. You left him on the porch as you walked into the dimly lit house, setting your purse and keys on the bench in the foyer. You went straight to the kitchen, flicking on a light. The soft clicking of the door let you know he’d made his way inside after you.

You pulled two glass tumblers from the cabinet and then grabbed a bottle of whiskey that Paul had left behind. You poured the amber liquid into each glass, your mouth already preparing for the intense burn that would come with swallowing it down. You were in need of the liquid courage though.

“How’d you know my kids wouldn’t be here? You have my custody agreement memorized or something?” You asked as you sipped at the liquor, sliding the other glass towards Rio from across the kitchen island. The exact island he’d fucked you on weeks before.

You didn’t bother trying to hide your aggravation towards him. Ever since that day in your kitchen, he’d been difficult to ignore. He was a constant in your thoughts. Your dreams had only gotten more explicit, more intimate. It was irritating. You hadn’t felt right since. And it was all his fault.

“Something like that.” He said, eyeing the glass on the counter. He studied you for a long moment, as he was prone to do. He watched you gulp down the entirety of its contents, his mouth turned up in mirth.

“What’d you need to talk to me about?” You questioned, trying not to wince at the bitter taste that now sat on your tongue. The whiskey was already heating up your insides, coating them in a fine layer of confidence and nonchalance.

“How’d your date go?” He threw back, dodging your question as he finally picked up the glass and swirled its contents.

“Why?”

“I wanna know.”

He tossed the drink back in one go, his inked Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. It was a surprisingly erotic sight.

“You really wanna know about my date?” You asked incredulously, eyebrow once again raised at him in question.

“I don’t ask questions I don’t wanna know the answer to, darling. You know that.” He retorted with a testiness that made you momentarily retreat.

“It was fine.” You supplied with a shrug of your shoulders, unsure of what he was looking for. The date had actually been a disaster, but you weren’t going to divulge that to him.

He laughed. A real laugh with his head thrown back and chest vibrating.

It pissed you off.

“What the hell is your problem?” You gritted out between clenched teeth, the alcohol now rushing through your veins and fueling your rising anger.

Rio went silent. He straightened to his full height and edged past the island to stand in front of you. His face gave away nothing. No smirk. No narrowed eyes. No false sense of security with a charming smile. Nothing.

“Who says I got a problem?” He finally said, leaning into your face and making you lock eyes with his own.

Your gut reaction told you to look away, but you fought against it. Instead choosing to meet his intensity head on.

“You seem awfully interested in my personal life. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.” You taunted, fully expecting another round of laughter from him.

You should’ve known by now that Rio never did anything you expected. That’s what made him Rio.

“And if I was?” He challenged, not backing down from your accusations. He shifted closer, forcing you to lean back. “If I said I’d kill him for touching what’s mine. What would you do? Hmm?” He continued, eyes roaming your body as he spoke. His voice grew thicker, the desire now suddenly apparent and washing over you like molasses.

“You wouldn’t.” You whispered, feeling the ghost of his hands along your hips. The barely there touch made your body come alive with familiarity, the memory settling right between your thighs.

“I don’t make threats I don’t plan on acting on, baby. You know that.” He teased, throwing his own words back at you.

“I’m not yours.” You shook your head, tightening your hands into fists to keep them at your sides.

He laughed, though the sound held no real humor. “Yeah, you are.” He said with a nod, hand reaching around to drag along your back, making your eyes fall shut.

His touch felt so good. Intoxicating. Like your body knew who it’d been waiting for this entire time. You’d been a fool to think you could replace the feeling.

“What do you want?” You asked, exhaustion lacing your words. You felt like you asked him that same question every moment you were together. You knew the answer this time though. You were just hoping you were wrong.

“You.” He whispered, finger now caressing your cheek and pushing waywards strands of hair off your face.

You’d been expecting the response, but it still jolted you. Still made you fraught with worry and unease. You lashed out, pushing his hand away and putting distance between your bodies.

“You want me to quit my job. Leave my kids. To do what with you? Run away to wash money and run drugs?”

“Yeah.”

You studied his face for several silent seconds, searching for any traces of humor. There were none. He was serious. Unflinchingly honest in his desire to have you.  

“Well, that’s not gonna happen. So you should probably go.”

You brushed off his words and moved past him and towards the entryway, ready to see him out. You didn’t get far. You made it to the other side of the island before a hand reached out for you and slammed you back against a firm chest. You gasped, unable to pull away as another hand attached to your other arm. They held you by your elbows, forcing your backside to press dangerously close to his front.

He’d moved quickly and without warning, nearly knocking you off your heels. You were both breathing heavy, both from the movement and the lust that threatened to spill over and bleed out all across your hardwood floors.

“You’re stubborn as shit.” Rio breathed into your ear, his grip tightening around your arms and forcing you to still.

“I’m smart.” You retorted, feeling yourself start to loosen in his hold. His chest was pressed tightly to your bare back, his crotch nestled almost perfectly against your ass. Your lower body shifted under the guise of pulling away, but you felt it. And so did he.

“Yeah, that too.” He whispered.

His face buried itself into your neck, lips covering the area with kisses. You arched into his touch, getting lost in the familiar sensations. His hands dropped from your arms and reached for the hem of your dress, pulling the fabric up your thighs.

It was happening again. The vortex that swallowed you up last time was back and it was making time simultaneously speed up and slow down. The outside world felt like it was at a stand still while you and Rio reintroduced your bodies to each other. The soft touches and gentle caresses morphed into hungry grasps and passionate clutches. His mouth worked over your neck and sucked, knowing exactly what that action did to you. You reached around and ran your nails over his scalp, feeling him shiver in response.

Your feet shuffled as he led you to your couch, pressing you into the back of it. You pushed your ass out and into him, feeling the length of him beyond your clothes. His hands tightened around your hips and then traveled under your dress. You gripped the cushions as he tore your panties away, the savagery of it making your thighs slide obnoxiously together. You moaned when his rough hands kneaded your ass, spreading the flesh to see what was waiting for him.

Through the fog your heard a distinct growl that reviberated from his chest and went straight to your throbbing sex, your walls desperately clenching around nothing. You bit your lip when you felt the head of him at your entrance, the heat from his flesh so overwhelming that your knees nearly buckled.

“Spread your legs, mama. Let me in.” He instructed, hand latching onto one of your shoulders for leverage.

You obeyed his command. You obeyed because that’s what you always did. You always ended up doing as he said. And that’s what scared you. Not the illegal shit or the risk of throwing your whole life away. It scared you with how complacent you could be to him. And you knew that eventually you’d give him the life he wanted from you.

A strangled moan fell from your lips as he began to push forward. He felt larger this way. Felt as if he could reach all the way into your chest if he wanted to. You pushed back for more when he teased you, sliding back out and refastening his hold on you.

In the next moment he was fully embedded inside of you, pulsing with such a need that you could do nothing but tighten around him. He appreciated the sentiment. You cried out in what sounded like agony, but was in fact an unbearable amount of pleasure that felt nearly spiritual.

His hips slammed into yours with wild abandon. You steadied yourself along the couch, feeling the piece of furniture slide across the floor with every thrust. In this position he had full access to you, and he utilized it. He roamed your body freely and without permission, making you beg for more. You couldn’t see him. And that was just fine because you could feel him. You could feel every hard line and groove. Every brush of his fingertips and bruising kiss. You could feel it all.

“Fuck...I-,” You gasped as you circled your clit, feeling him hit so deep that you were forced onto your tiptoes in your heels. “I’m gonna cum.”

Your confession earned harder, slower strokes. They made you see stars. And within seconds your entire body was spasming with waves of pleasure akin to electrical shocks. The force of it was almost painful. Sounds that you didn’t recognize flew past your lips as you trapped him inside of you and rode out the blissful high.

His hand moved from your shoulder to the back of your head, readying himself for his own release. You went limp after such a powerful climax and he took that as his cue to continue. His pace was forceful, low grunts permeating the air as he fucked into you. His fingers dug into your thighs in that way that made you feel owned. You clenched your inner muscles around him, coaxing him further into euphoria’s waiting arms.

“Shit,” He hissed, his hips beginning to stutter as he finally came.

You accepted every thick drop that now coated your walls. You couldn’t describe the feeling of fullness you felt with his cum settling into your womb and his twitching length still nestled tightly against your walls. But for as wrong as everything else felt with Rio, this...this felt right.

His low chuckle broke the silence as he retreated from your body slowly. You missed the sensation almost immediately.

You stood on shaky legs and pulled your dress down, seeing the shredded lace that had been your panties in a pile near your feet. You kicked off your heels, a relieved sigh leaving your lips at the action.

“I’m gonna be gone for a bit.” Rio announced suddenly, reaching up to lazily scratch at the facial hair that lined his jaw. He’d redressed, now looking like a poised professional and not someone who’d just cum inside you.

Mild panic seized your chest, but you schooled your features, attempting to play it cool.

“Gotta get back to your other life?” You retorted, choosing to be a smart ass rather than show any real concern for the man who’d just fucked you in another area in your home. Another space where your family gathered desecrated by your sins.

“Nah, this is it for me, darling.” He said with a shake of his head and lick of his lips. “Just gotta handle some things.”

“That’s not vague at all.”

He stepped to you, once again pressing you into the couch. Only this time you were facing him, breathing in the same whiskey-tinted air as he invaded your space.

“You know what your problem is?” He rasped, voice rough enough to send a tingle down your spine.

“You.” You jabbed. The liquor was working. Your lips were loosened and your attitude was running the show. You’d be lucky if Rio decided to ignore your childish behavior.

He angled your chin up to him, leaning in as if he was going to kiss you. He hadn’t yet that evening. And you found yourself yearning for it. His fingers slid over your lips and trailed down your neck, gently grasping your throat. He didn’t apply pressure, but the innuendo was there. It thrilled you in a way you hadn’t been expecting.

“You worry too much.” He said, eyeing your lips the entire time.

You licked them in response, having nothing to say for once. He wasn't wrong.

“Everything stays the same. Mick will be at the drop-offs. He’ll stay close if you need anything.” He explained, his hand floating down your collarbone and over your breast to settle on your waist.

“And you?” You dared to ask, hoping he wouldn’t see your question as anything more than a professional query.

“Like I said, I got some things to handle. I’ll be in touch.” He deflected. “And don’t miss me too much, yeah?” He said with a charming smile, choosing to grip your hip and squeeze.

You scoffed at his words, crossing your arms and watching him leave without another word. You tried not to let the new information he’d shared bother you. He didn’t say how long he’d be away, but you had a feeling it was going to be for more than a few days.

The notion made you uneasy.

While Rio’s presence unnerved you, his looming absence made a lump form in your throat. You didn’t have the energy to analyze what that meant. It was going to be back to business. And in a way you were grateful for the reset. He’d come back and things would go back to an employee-boss relationship. Back to normal.

Right?

[goldentournesol]

Be Careful What You Wish For

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

The one where Spencer gets exactly what he wished for, but it isn’t necessarily for the best.

Length: 5k 

A/N: this is based off of maybe one of the best requests i have ever received, thank you so much anon, your request really got my creative juices going! also i combined this request with another one, too <3 (angst, just straight up, with happy ending tho)

masterlist

The sun was shining against the glass windows of the car. The sunset was so beautiful with its melting and merging colors, Y/N wished it lasted longer so she could watch it. It’d been feeling like beautiful moments were few and far between lately. 

No one ever said being in a relationship was easy, but she’d never expected to drift this far from Spencer. She couldn’t exactly place the moment at which the descent of their relationship began, if she was being honest. One day, they’d be happy, smiling, full of love and life. And then the next, waves of darkness and despair would appear. They weren’t even the kinds of waves that would disappear with the shining sun. No, they were there to stay and fuel the storm that continues to rage on. 

Today was one of those days. To be fair, the whole team was struggling, but Spencer had taken Morgan’s departure a little harder than everyone else. It was understandable, of course. Derek was a staple in Spencer’s life for so long. However, for a man who’s seen and been through so many losses, he sure was terrible at dealing with them. Spencer’s tendency to keep things bottled up had definitely been affecting the overall health of their relationship. In fact, it has been the root of a lot of their arguments lately. Y/N just wanted him to let her in, let her help him and she was willing to wait however long it takes. Spencer on the other hand grew more and more snappy, irritable, and private with each passing day.

When they were at work, they tried their best to avoid each other so as to not get on each other’s nerves. Their fights usually didn’t turn into screaming matches, but they both had a track record of saying things they don’t mean. Hurtful things. Turns out profilers are fantastic at rubbing salt into open wounds. 

Ever since they began dating, Spencer took the subway less, opting for car rides with Y/N. Sometimes she’d drop him off, other times they’d spend the rest of the day at each other’s houses. She enjoyed driving him around, at first he was never too picky with the music she played, but later on, his music began to overtake hers. It never bothered her, in fact, she took it as a sign of him being vulnerable and sharing parts of himself.

The days where car rides once filled with joyous singing and laughter were coming to a shocking halt. The silence nowadays was almost always louder than the music they used to play. Even small talk felt like too much of a burden sometimes.

“Should I just drop you off at your place? Or do you wanna come over to mine? I still have some of that lasagna you liked in the fridge.” She asked softly as they slowed down into traffic. Rush hour in DC was never fun.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just have whatever’s at my place.” Spencer was being curt with his responses. Thus, the warning signs began flashing in her head.

“Are you sure? We can even pick something up from that one grocery store on our way home, something that goes well with the lasagna. I don’t mind cooking today.” She offered, hoping he wouldn’t shut her out like he usually did.

He shook his head, keeping his voice eerily level and his gaze was set on the road in front of him, “I just really wanna be home, Y/N.”

She nodded and whispered, “Okay.”

A short silence ensued as traffic began to thin out. Cars that were stuck bumper to bumper were beginning to move.

“Is this about Derek leaving?” She asked tentatively. He sighed and pursed his lips in response so she continued, “You know he said he was always a phone call away.”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” Spencer said shortly, gazing out the window.

“You never want to talk about anything.” She said defeatedly, the car beginning to move freely on the road.

“Yeah, well maybe that’s true. Or maybe I just don’t want to talk to you.” Spencer spat, clearly growing impatient.

“Fine, don’t talk to me then. But talk to someone, anyone! Hell, talk to Derek himself. Tell him you hate him for leaving or whatever you’re feeling, but don’t take out your anger and unresolved feelings out on me, okay? I don’t deserve that! Everyday I try to get you to talk to me, but it seems like with every little step I take forward, you take two steps back. And it’s exhausting. It is fucking exhausting, Spencer.” She frowned, tears welling up in her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

“I didn’t ask you for that! I didn’t ask for you to be my personal therapist. If I wanted to see a therapist, I would have gone to see one!” Spencer gestured wildly with his hands as he spoke.

“Spencer, in a relationship, we’re supposed to confide in one another. It’s supposed to be comforting. I don’t want to be your therapist, I just want you to talk to me!” She unconsciously began to press on the pedal, perhaps in an attempt to reach a destination quicker. He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Relationship? You call this a relationship? We can barely stand to be in the same room together, Y/N.”

“And that’s why we talk it out. No relationship is ever perfect! You should know that, Spencer!” She shrieked, gripping the steering wheel in frustration.

“That’s not true. What I had with Maeve was perfect until it was ruined.” He uttered.

“Maeve?!” She squealed incredulously, “Really?! What you had with Maeve was perfect?! Spencer, what you had wasn’t real like us! You spoke to her over the phone once a week! You wrote to her in letters, where you have time to-to think and to respond! It isn’t like real life, it isn’t like you and me! What we have is real! I-I’ve lived with you, I’ve seen you torn to pieces, I’ve seen you laugh until you cry. That’s the you I fell in love with, not some fantasy I created of you over the phone!” She spoke but the words were garbled between incoming sobs that she was frantically wiping the remnants of off her cheeks. The same sobs she’d tried so hard to suppress. She was barely aware of the words that came out of her mouth.

“If what I had with Maeve wasn’t real, then why do I wish she were the one here with me instead of you?!” Spencer defended, unaware of how sharp his words were or how deeply they’d wounded her.

Her breath hitched in her throat, taking her already blurry vision off of the road in front of her to face him, “What?” She whispered brokenhearted, but the utterance was immediately swallowed by the unmistakable, earsplitting sound of metal clashing violently against metal. They had no choice but to succumb to the inundating darkness that rapidly overtook them both.

***

Spencer woke with a violent start and sat up in his own bed. He sighed in relief when he realized it was just a dream and it was morning again. Turning his head to look at the left side of the bed where she usually slept, he expected to find her there and was taken by surprise when she wasn’t. He rubbed at his face and eyes vigorously before hearing some clattering in the kitchen. With long strides he saw a blurry figure in the kitchen making coffee and walked towards it. 

He sighed in relief, “Hey, there you are. I just had the worst dream.” He huffed as he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck in his half-asleep state.

“Hey, good morning, lovebug.” She smiled and turned around to hug him tightly.

Something felt off. Something wasn’t right.

He’d heard that voice before. He pulled back from the hug and was met by…

It wasn’t Y/N. It was Maeve.

Spencer could barely control his expression as complete bone-stilling shock washed over his entire being, “M-Maeve?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong, honey? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She said, a kind smile resting upon her features. If Spencer wasn’t so shocked, he’d probably have laughed at the absurd truth of that statement. Maeve brought her hand up to his forehead, “Are you feeling okay?”

He didn’t even have time to be confused before he jerked back quickly at the touch of her hand, “I-uh, uh...I’m not feeling too g-good. Um...what’s happening?” He mumbled, rubbing at his eyes again, almost like they’d be polished and he’d see more clearly. But when he opened his eyes again, she was still there. Right in front of him. There was no light emitting from behind her, she was totally opaque. It was eerily real.

Her face was full of color and life and she was dressed in one of his cardigans over her own set of matching pajamas. She was moving and...alive. And speaking to him. What is happening right now?

“But y-you’re...how are you here right now? Am I still dreaming? Am I...Maeve, am I dead?” Spencer shook his head in an attempt to wake back up.

She began to laugh and pulled out a chair for him to sit on, and so he did, still staring up at her in disbelief, “No, baby, you’re very much alive. You’re probably just still confused from whatever nightmare you had. Here, have some water.”

“Y-yeah, yeah, confused. Um, what day is it?” Spencer began to pat on his chest to make sure he was solid and alive. 

She looked at him curiously at his strange behavior, “It’s April 5th, 2016.”

April 5th? Derek left the BAU near the end of March. A light bulb went off in his head. 

The BAU! 

They’d have all the answers. He shot up from his seat immediately, “I uh, have to get to work.” Spencer rushed to his bedroom to get dressed. 

As he’s dressing, he spots a picture frame on his bedside table. He knows the picture by heart, it was of him and Y/N in the pumpkin patch last year. He’d had his arms tightly wound around her shoulders and was kissing her cheek. The leaves were the most colorful they’d ever been. He picked it up and almost dropped it immediately like it had burned his skin. It was the same picture. 

But Y/N was nowhere to be seen. In her place was Maeve.

No, no, no. This isn’t right. 

Spencer began to panic as he buttoned up his shirt, he threw on his cardigan and practically flew out the door. In the distance, he could hear Maeve in the background calling out for him to drink his coffee before leaving.

The train ride to work was truly a test of his patience. He couldn’t keep his knee still and checked his watch religiously. After the train stopped, was the first one off and ran as fast as his poor feet could take him. He stopped running when he got to the FBI Headquarters as to not alarm anyone, but raced to the sixth floor anyway.

As he opened the glass doors he searched frantically for any familiar face, “Garcia!” He yelled as he spotted her bright yellow clad figure across the bullpen. He pushed through tired agents and messy desks to get to her. Everything else was the same, the office was just as he remembered it.

“Good morning, boy wonder! How are you today?” She smiled graciously, holding a few files in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

“Have you seen Y/N?” He asked impatiently. She pulled her brows together.

“Do you mean Y/N...Y/L/N?” She asked slowly, as if trying to recall her name.

“Yes, of course I mean Y/N Y/L/N. Who else would I be talking about?” Spencer asked, once again losing more of his patience.

“No, I haven’t seen her, to be honest. I don’t see much of the White-Collar Crime division up here unless Hotch asks for them. Why do you need Y/N? Is she okay?” Garcia casually answered, as if her answer hadn’t turned his world--this world--whatever the hell he was experiencing upside down.

“White-Collar crime? No, that can’t be right.” Spencer muttered to himself as his brain raced a million miles a second.

“Reid, is everything alright? Is there a possible case? Should I tell Hotch?” Garcia asked, but Spencer was barely listening.

 He was on his way back to the elevators again, leaving an extremely confused Penelope in his wake. He raced down to the fourth floor, to the White-Collar crime division. As the elevator doors opened, his eyes scanned the crowded floor for her.

“Dr. Reid! It’s nice to see you down here. What can I do for you?” An agent, Agent Seymour, he’s met perhaps once before asked him.

“Hi, yes, I’m um..looking for one of your agents. Agent Y/L/N.” Spencer stuttered, it was weird saying her name so formally. But he had to see it with his own eyes.

“Yes, of course, right this way. I think she just came in.” The agent led him to a desk in the middle of the bullpen and left him, saying that she was probably getting coffee and should be back an second. Spencer looked over her desk and compared it with how her desk at the BAU looked like. Gone were the trinkets and books he’d given her. Gone was the candle she never lit, but kept anyway because she said it smelled like him. It was like staring at a stranger’s desk, so desolate, so...un-special.

“Jeremy, stop. I almost spilled my coffee!” She giggled from behind him. He’d recognize her voice anywhere. He turned to see her and his lungs filled with relief as he spotted her familiar face across the bullpen. There she was, in all her glory. Looking as beautiful as ever. His Y/N. But the relief was ripped away all too suddenly as he watched on. She had her coffee in one hand and the other was swatting a very sheepish looking Jeremy, he assumed.

“I’m sorry, baby. I just missed you.” He spoke, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her lips. 

She blushed immediately and shied away, “Jeremy, we’re in the office!” She giggled again and pulled away from him, glancing around the office as if to check if anyone saw the moment of affection. Spencer’s blood boiled before he realized.

She looked so happy. 

So much happier than she ever looked when she was with him. His heart sank to his feet and he felt like he was incapable of lifting it back up to its rightful place in his chest. He wondered if this was the universe’s cruel, cruel way of letting him know just how shitty of a boyfriend he’s really been. Fire of envy festered in the place where his heart used to reside. He wasn’t sure if it was jealousy, resentment, or guilt. 

It all felt so strange. It felt like there was suddenly way too much pressure in his head. Before he could begin to compute the events unfolding before him, he realized she had spotted him at her desk and was now making her way across the bullpen, separating from her Jeremy. Before he could freak out, she was speaking to him. And all he could focus on was the shape of her lips and the faint memory of how they felt pushing against his.

“Dr. Reid! To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you here?” She asked politely, but Spencer could tell that she was immeasurably confused by his presence, “Does Agent Hotchner need something from the White Collar crimes archives?”

Spencer panicked, “Yes! Um, he does...and um he asked me to ask you s-specifically. That’s why I’m here, heh.” He stammered like the nervous wreck he was and wiped his sweaty palms on the inside of his pockets.

“Okay, that’s no problem. Just tell me the number of the file and I’ll get it for you.” She smiled slightly, setting her cup of coffee down on her desk. At least her coffee order was still the same as it was. 

She disappeared for a few moments after he gave her a random sequence of numbers. Spencer wasn’t even sure how his legs were still capable of holding himself up. When she came back and he got a whiff of her perfume, his body completely stilled. He knows that scent like the back of his hand, he’d given it to her for their first anniversary. The fresh scent nearly sent him into anaphylactic shock. He’d accepted the file and scurried back to the sixth floor without another word, once again leaving a confused woman in his wake.

Spencer collapsed at his desk and rubbed his head like it would somehow fix this. Whatever this was. Everyone around him operated so normally and went about their day while he was seconds away from losing his mind. 

Was he having a schizophrenic scare? Did his symptoms bleed into his 30’s even though they weren’t supposed to? What was this alternate universe where he’d lost the one good thing he’s ever known? How was he supposed to get back? Did he want to go back? What would happen if he did? Would it be fair for Y/N to stick with him when he knew she would be so much happier with someone else? Would he try harder for her? Would he stop shutting her out? Would the woman he loved so dearly ever love him back?

He must not have ever been deserving of her love and the universe was punishing him in the worst way possible. To have her be within arm’s reach but to never be able to hold her. 

Once upon a time, he would have given up anything and everything to be with Maeve, but that was before Y/N. Before she gave him a new life, one he wanted to live. One where waking up wasn’t such a task. One where seeing her smile at him was enough to make him forget about all his worries. But now Y/N looked at him with barely a sliver of recognition. There was no affection or adoration behind those eyes and maybe he deserved that.

But how was this universe expecting him to go on like everything is fine? Like he hadn’t just lost the love of his life? No one else in this warped version of Spencer’s reality was feeling as dejected as Spencer was.

“Reid, are you feeling alright?” The voice of none other than Aaron Hotchner brought him out of his stupor. Spencer had unknowingly been sobbing into his hands for the past few minutes. Hotch was taken aback at the extent of Spencer’s disheveled state.

“H-Hotch, I need to go home. I can’t be here. I’m sorry.” Spencer packed his things and ran out the building before he realized he had nowhere to go. Home wasn’t his home anymore. He couldn’t exactly go back and see his dead girlfriend wandering around his apartment. He couldn’t be at work where Y/N was, so blissfully unaware of the crisis Spencer was in the middle of.

He wandered the streets of DC aimlessly as he tried to reorganize the events in his head and somehow make sense of them. Just a few days ago, he and Y/N had been holding one another on his couch. Sure, they’d been in a rut recently, but they still loved each other. At least that’s what he thought.

He walked and walked, miles on end, keeping his gaze on his feet as he tried to piece bits together. An IQ of 187 and he had absolutely no idea how whatever was happening to him happened. Even the multiple universes theory didn’t have his back. If he was ‘here’, where has ‘here’s’ Spencer gone? 

His feet had taken him to the local park, where he and Y/N used to sit under the stars. He found himself reminiscing the times they were together. He saw himself and Y/N in every couple that passed him by. Exhausted, Spencer took a seat on a patch of grass. He buried his face into his hands and tried to relieve himself of the headache he’d developed. 

“Hey, mister! Watch out!!” He heard a child yell way too loudly.

Groaning at the volume, he looked up to see the vague shape of a spinning baseball increasing in size as it moved closer….closer. Spencer had no time to react before he was knocked out cold by the baseball.

***

The first thing she’d heard was the incessant beeping of...something next to her. After that, she’d heard faint chatter. The voices sounded familiar but she just couldn’t put her finger on it. She whimpered in pain which caught the attention of everyone in the room. The chatter ceased. 

“Y/N? Honey, it’s Pen, can you hear me?” A voice called. She fought to open her eyes.

Why was it so hard to open her eyes? It was like they were glued shut. Why did everything hurt? What is that smell?

She made a small noise of agreement to the voice that called, but could not coordinate herself enough to speak or open her eyes.

“Y/N, darling, you’re in the hospital, okay? You were in a car accident.” She spoke softly. 

But the words weren’t soft at all. Her words had opened up a Pandora’s box of previously suppressed memories. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. It was hard to breathe as she tried to remember the last moments before the fog. She remembered seeing him so angry, eyes so wild. Who is he? So...so close. She whimpered in pain as she fought the fog away. 

Blood.

So much blood. 

Pain.

So much pain.

The others watched as she began to writhe against the hospital bed in discomfort. Her eyes snapped open the second she saw his face in her mind, frantically searching the room for him.

Spencer.

“Sp-Sp--” She began, but couldn’t formulate the rest of the word. Exhausted and defeated by the lack of his presence, she lay back on the bed.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Spencer’s...Spencer’s fine, alright? You can’t see him right now, but you will be able to.” Those words were the last thing she heard before she slipped off into a silent slumber.

Hours later, she awoke again. But this time with enough strength to open her eyes immediately. Her limbs felt like they weighed tons, she could barely lift a finger. The room was empty besides a single chair with a blurry figure seated in it.

“Spencer?” She uttered almost inaudibly and the figure moved.

“Hey there. Sorry, I’m not Spencer.” The figure moved closer and she recognized the blonde sheen.

“JJ.” Y/N croaked with relief, happy to see a friend. JJ promptly gave her some water in a cup and adjusted the bed so that she would be able to swallow it.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, taking the cup from Y/N’s trembling hands.

Y/N shook her head imperceptibly, “Is...Spence--is he?” Y/N barely got to finish her thought before the tears settled in.

“No, gosh, no. He’s alive. Thankfully, you both made it out alive.” JJ said with relief, leaning her elbows against the side of her bed. Y/N felt her breathing get easier as she learned of the news. She blinked hard, trying to control the tears, but they just flowed out.

“It’s my fault, JJ.” she paused to take a deep breath and JJ took one of her hands in hers, “I was the one driving. I should have been more careful. I-I was so mad.” She sobbed, the tears escaping.

“Hey, no, it’s alright now. Okay, you’ve both made it out alive, that’s what’s important.” JJ rubbed Y/N’s knuckles.

“W-where is he? I need to see him.” Y/N attempted to sit up but winced from the sharp pain in her side.

“Um..yeah, about that. You can’t really get up yet. You’ve got three broken ribs, a broken leg, and a severe concussion.” JJ delivered the news and Y/N’s tears seemed to flow even harder.

Before she could respond, Hotch, Penelope, and a nurse walked into the room, “Oh, sunshine! It’s so good to see you awake!” Penelope squealed and kissed her wet cheek gently before wiping away her tears. The nurse checked all her vitals and gave her some extra information before she left. Y/N forced a smile and sat back, but something in the room felt heavy.

“What’s going on? What aren’t you guys telling me?” Y/N frowned, staring at her friends. She saw them all exchange a look and Hotch being the most straightforward man she knows decided to deliver the news.

“It’s Spencer. Unfortunately, Spencer’s brain has swelled significantly and doctors don’t know when he’ll wake. It’s already been almost 42 hours since the accident.” Hotch frowned, watching Y/N’s expression turn from a hopeful one into one of the most unbearable expressions of grief.

“Wh--what, what does that mean? Does that mean he’s--is he ever going to wake up?” She began to panic, her heart rate audibly increasing. She squeezed JJ’s hand as hard as she could.

“We can’t be sure yet, the swelling has to go down before doctors can make any claims. It’s still too early to say he’s in a coma, which is a good sign. He’s also been showing steady signs of improvement.” Hotch said and Y/N covered her face to shield herself away from the embarrassment of openly sobbing.

JJ and Penelope both looked at the bruised and broken girl on the bed with tears brimming their eyes, unsure of what to do.

“I have to see him. Please. Please, JJ.” Y/N sobbed, pleading at the woman beside her. JJ looked towards Hotch for guidance.

“I’ll speak with the Doctor and see what I can do.” Hotch nodded once and left the room. Aaron Hotchner was simply a man you couldn’t say no to. Thankfully, this extended to doctors as well. The next time someone came in, they entered with a wheelchair. After many screams and with the help of three nurses and a doctor, they managed to get Y/N into the wheelchair. They rolled her off into Spencer’s room where he lay motionless on a bed just like hers. The sight of him so frail with so many tubes going in and out of his orifices should have overwhelmed her, but she was just so happy to see him breathing. Once again she could barely control her tears as she weakly gripped at the hand that was closest to her. She pressed sloppy, uncoordinated kisses to the back of his hand and pleaded for him to wake.

The sight was overwhelming, even for Hotch. It was difficult to see their two youngest agents fight for their lives.

And for the next two days, this is how it went. Y/N would wake from her slumber, request to see Spencer and would not leave his side unless her Doctor absolutely required her to. She didn’t care about what he’d said to her before the crash, she didn’t care. It didn’t matter. She just wanted him here. She wanted to hear his voice again. What a luxury that was.

Slowly, Spencer began improving. He’d begin to open his eyes but shut them immediately afterwards. He’d make noises, even though they were very garbled, they were very welcome. Y/N would read to him, she’d have any one of their friends bring over his favorite books and she’d pass the time reading to him. It was difficult at first, but she’d improved too.

On the fifth day, he was awake and fully conscious before she even got to his room.

He heard his teammates speaking around him again and what a relief it had been to wake in a hospital bed rather than his own bed. He let out a heavy sigh of relief as they updated him of what happened in the recent days. 

It wasn’t real. 

None of it was.

Maeve wasn’t there, Y/N was his, no one else’s.

He’d been sure of it when they’d rolled her into his room and near his bed, eyes lit with hope surrounded by healing scrapes and bruises.

“Spence? Spencer!” She exclaimed, “Oh thank God you’re awake.” She whispered trying her hardest to lean towards him on the bed.

Spencer fought to raise his arm to touch her arm, “Y/N? A-are you really here?” He whispered back.

“I’m here baby, I’m here. I’m never leaving you.” She sobbed, leaning her face into his awaiting palm. Spencer’s chest filled with immense relief as his thumbs caught her fallen tears.

“Y/N, wait--Y/N, I’m so sorry...I’m so sorry about what I said. I remember. I didn’t mean it. You’re the one for me. Life is perfect with you.” Spencer frowned as tears of his own raced down his cheeks.

Y/N shook her head, “It’s okay, I don’t care about that anymore. I could have lost you. I-if I had lost you, I would have lost myself Spencer. I love you so much. I love you so much.” She repeated as she kissed the palm of his hand. 

“I love you so much, Y/N.”

How could he have ever wished to live without this? Without her?

The universe had taught him his lesson and boy was he glad he had learned it.

[sylvie-writes]

Dr. Husband

word count: 5278

pairing: doctor steve rogers x wife reader

warnings: talks about heat exhaustion? there’s nothing graphic, but if the hospital theme bothers you, then this isn’t the fic to read!

prompts (from @/fluffyomlette): “Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?” and “You’re not supposed to pick favourites, doc.” “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

a/n: this just popped in my head about a month ago and i had to write it for no explainable reason. i really couldn’t think of a title oops. if you all have a better idea please tell me so i can change it lol.

please excuse any mistakes!

Summer was finally in full force, blazing sun rays beamed down on the dry ground and once gorgeous flowers drooped in dire need of water. Sounds of children playing outside, pool water splashing as a result of cannonballs, while lawnmowers whirled to life and laughter from the watching wives resounded this afternoon. In your neighborhood, it was tradition that the women would get together every other Saturday and have drinks in the cul-de-sac while their husbands had unsaid competitions of manicuring their yards. Unfortunately for you, your husband was a doctor and that meant little time for him to do the yard, and you didn’t have children at the moment that could go play with the others. The women who were your neighbors were a bit too picky choosy for your taste. They only seemed to bond over their children and sitting around home, two of which you didn’t have or do, so you weren’t ever truly invited to their day-drinking. It was actually fine with you as these people were so hot n’cold and you were just tired of trying to fit in with faux friends. You had plenty of true friends and then your husband who was a child of his own.

For three weekends so far, Steve had told you he’d cut the lawn and as much as you wanted to believe him, you knew that he was so exhausted from work and being on call a majority of the time, that he would never find the hours to do so. That was okay with you because what he did was important and you weren’t gonna be on his ass like the feds about the yard when you could easily do it yourself. It wasn’t like he was just sitting around, no, he was working so you just decided to cut the lawn yourself, something you’d done plenty of times before. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Unfortunately the day you chose to do so, the sun was out blazing and a simple walk out the door was a trip to an off-brand hell. Instead of making a wise decision and waiting to cut the grass in the evening, you chose the latter and decided to cut the grass at noon, the very time the sun was in full shine. 

Dressed in attire for yard work and having already eaten a sandwich for lunch, you headed out the garage door to tackle the mess there in hopes of finding the push mower within. Steve’s father, Joseph, had given you both a lot of his lawn equipment, but the riding mower was broken at the moment and you (again) stupidly decided to push mow the almost two acre lawn. It took a good half hour to get the darned thing out on the driveway and while doing so, you noticed that your neighbors, the wives to be exact, had decided to come out for one of their occasional and somehow spontaneous get-togethers which consisted of unattended kids drawing with chalk as their mothers sat a few feet away dipping their feet in the small splash pool. You often found the idea both inventive and funny. 

For only a second more did you let your attention linger on the group before returning back to fill the lawn mower with gasoline. After doing so, you tossed on a pair of sunglasses and went full steam ahead with cutting the grass, disregarding the rising, and very unsafe, temperature. 

About an hour in, the temp had already risen to be above 100 and something no one should have spent any longer than half an hour in. Steve had always said you were stubborn at all the wrong times and boy was he right. You had just finished up half of the front yard and quarter of the back yard. It was mad that you were actually thinking about pushing mowing two acres, especially in this unruly weather. 

You were so determined and when your mind was set on something, you let all other matters slip away, including regards for your own health. The unusual amount of sweat on your skin seemed to go unnoticed by you as well did the growing headache. 

Finally, about half an hour later, more of the backyard was finished and your inner saboteur continued to influence your goals. 

“Just finish this half and you will be close enough to the end,” translated into “Just finish the whole yard, you might as well since you are this close.” 

This was the worst mindset to have, especially with the given circumstances as you had been out here for at least two hours, no drinks of any sort, no real breaks aside from fueling the lawn mower, and no cares to the worsening symptoms that now included noticeable dizziness. 

The lawn mower eventually ran out of gas and you went to refill it once more. Making your way through the front yard, your unknown adrenaline rush came to an end along with the machine’s power. It wasn’t until your vision started to star and blur that you finally noticed your decline in health, but by then it was too late and you were on the plush and groomed grass of the front yard. Ironically, you noticed the fruits of your labor since you were currently laying on it.

Five minutes had passed since your drop to the ground and one of the ladies out in the court, Genevieve, noticed your figure, quite the contrast to the viridescent grass. Despite that she thought you were “demented” for cutting the grass yourself, she knew you weren’t unhinged, so to say, that you would just lay on the grass as it would serve no purpose to do so. She didn’t take you for a nature lover either so this was not normal. 

Genevieve squatted down in the lawn, her sparkly sandals reflecting in the sea of green. Unknowing of what to do, the woman in a panic threw the back of her hand to your forehead and you burned hotter than a metal kettle. By time she stood, the other ladies had gathered around and were now circling in mass hysteria as if they were staring at a dead body and not your unconscious, yet breathing frame. Many long seconds later, Priscilla, who was Genevieve’s closest friend and who despised you as much as you did her, decided to call 911. The other moms then left to go usher their children away from what they described as a “traumatic experience” and back to their large homes for some sort of last minute luncheon. 

Eventually, an ambulance arrived in your usually quiet neighborhood, something that was clearly displayed as almost every neighbor popped their heads out of their houses in sheer curiosity. Their nosey nature often bothered you but was normally put behind some sort of service act such as a baked cake or bottle of wine just to be invited into your house. You didn’t miss the way your neighbors would study your house when they were finally welcomed in. Steve was much better at hiding his cross nature and would return some compassion of his own while you struggled to bottle your annoyance and sealed it with a forced smile. As luck would have it though, you were knocked out and couldn’t give them a piece of your mind for staring because heavens know this would’ve been the last straw and no one could have stopped your rant. 

It was when you were in the red wagon and being attended over by paramedics that you noticed you were on the way to somewhere that wasn’t home. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

 At the hospital, the doctor and nurses hydrated you back to reality and suddenly you appeared in a bed, a doctor standing at the side with a clipboard in hand allowing your mind to draw up a million conclusions before you remembered what you had done last. 

The doctor spoke a fast introduction and he then moved on to fill you in on what had happened as confusion still painted your face although when he told you Genevieve’s account of what led up to your ultimate passing out, you visibly cringed at such carelessness that ended up bringing you here. Hundreds of falls, burns, and bruises thanks to your clumsy nature, but this had to be the one thing to send you to the hospital. Some sort of twisted joke it sure was. 

Moving to roll a stool to your bedside, the doctor passed you a cold bottle of water before bringing his eyes to give your IV a quick check as a nurse had put it in not too long before you awoke. 

“Luckily, Mrs. Rogers, your neighbors found you in time and you only experienced severe heat exhaustion. Had you prolonged your exposure anymore you could have experienced a heat stroke. For now, I ask that you rest and I’ll come back to release you.” The doctor expressed his reassurance with a kind grin before walking out of the plain and boxy room that could make one go insane with its lack of liveliness. 

Staring out the open doorway and into the empty hallway, you knew that Steve worked on this very floor, but honestly what were the chances that he’d see you? At one point he’d eventually find out about today’s mishaps, but that was a problem for later when you were more conscious and caring. Letting your worries temporarily go (something that was only happening thanks to your fatigued mind), you slightly shifted into a somewhat “comfortable” position on the stiff bed and rough cotton sheets. Albeit that there was an IV uncomfortably stuck in your arm, you fell into a much needed slumber. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Lunch break at last. 

That was all that had been on Steve's mind for the past three hours which had been extremely hectic. Granted, he was used to this fast-paced workplace having worked here for almost a decade, but today was absolutely out of control with injured patients coming in left and right. It wasn’t some sort of bad omen, rather just an unlucky day for many Steve had assumed. He had just finished up with a pediatric case and was now on his way to enjoy the leftover baked chicken salsa that you had made just for him last night and packed for his lunch this morning. You knew how busy his week had been and you took the liberty to make his favorite dinner dish to compensate for the work that had left such a toll on him. A smile immediately overtook his face when he walked in the house last night and that’s when you decided that you would gladly cook anything he’d like over and over again just to see that look of adoration. As Steve held you in his arms at that moment, he kept thinking how he really didn’t deserve you and little did he know, the same thought ran in your own mind. Yet, in reality, you both went together like a puzzle piece to a puzzle. Without the piece, the picture would never be completed and without the other, you and Steve would have never enjoyed life to the fullest. 

Strutting down the never ending hall, Steve passed many doors, some he had been in just a mere hour or two ago. As he walked past an open door and did a double take as he saw a patient asleep, but no sign of anyone else in the room. If he were that patient, he’d want the door shut for some privacy, something which the man highly valued, so he crossed the short distance and closed the door. He didn’t mean to look at the patient for so long as they weren’t in his care and that would be awfully creepy, but Steve could help but do a double take and noticed that the familiar face was, in fact, you. From first glance it didn’t even look like you and that was coming from the man who had studied your face just to commit it to his memory. In a loving way, of course. 

He slowly walked in your room, taking in the image before him of you lying in a hospital bed. His mind had assumed that the worst thing had happened to you and for a moment, Steve’s breathing ceased and his legs were glued to the ground. As his eyes scanned over your body again, his fears were calmed when there were no visible wounds and you just seemed to be resting. Although as a doctor, he unfortunately knew anything could be possible. 

Hunching over the top half of the bed, Steve smoothed your stray hairs away from your forehead and placed an awakening kiss there. You were a light sleeper a majority of the time and your spouse knew that this small action would wake, but not startle you. Every night he’d come home from work and do the same thing except then he knew you were safe and sound. Now, he was just filled with uncertainty. 

“What happened?” Those were the only words he was able to get out and you gave him an answer, just not one that he was looking for. You were already getting defensive and he could sense it.

“Genevieve saw me pass out in the yard and overreacted, Steven. You know they all don’t exactly have good track records with medicine.” You rolled your eyes at the last statement remembering how your neighbors have often nonchalantly tried to get Steve to diagnose them when it came to something as simple as a scrape. Then again, all of your neighbors were in the business industry so that explained their lack of medical knowledge or at least that is the excuse you drew up for them. 

“Nice try, (y/n), but you do have a medical chart and it’s over there,” Steve pointed over his shoulder and towards the doorway where a plastic chart holder sat mounted on the cream wall. “You didn’t just pass out, and the neighbors did not overreact. They did the right thing despite how much I know you hate that. Now, either you tell me the truth or I go read that file.” His tone was serious, but not condescending. Hidden in his eyes was a tad sprinkle of mischief.

Stubborn as ever, you didn’t respond and folded your arms over your chest in a form of defiance. 

Against what is probably legal, Steve picked up your medical chart to read what had happened as you wouldn’t disclose the information to him. Your husband was a worry-wart sometimes and while you appreciated how he doctored you when you were sick, he could be a bit overbearing. A great example would be the time when you were cooking dinner and burned your forearm when taking the casserole out of the oven. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

“Babe, dinner is ready!” 

The timer on the oven was currently beeping and you walked towards it. Turning off both the oven and the timer, you grabbed a short oven mitt and reached in to grab the casserole dish off the top rack. As you did so, you lifted your arm a bit too high and hit the side of your forearm on the interior roof of the oven. The temperature was ridiculously hot and the pain was immensely strong that you immediately pulled your arm back, the casserole long forgotten. 

Steve came running in at your string of curses and came in to see you holding your arm and hissing a bit as if that would relieve the pain. He walked closer to you as you leaned up against the island. Your husband delicately took your arm in his hand, raking his eyes over the burn that was soon to blister. 

After a short inspection, Steve placed his other hand on the small over your back and led you to the sink, flipping on the cold water and running it over your burn. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see you squeezing your own eyes shut in pain. 

“I know, sweetheart, it hurts, I’m sorry.” He continued to rinse your scalded skin, but turned his head to sweetly kiss your temple. 

A few minutes passed and Steve was content with the rinse job as you had finally opened your eyes, even engaging in some of your jokes that were always said at the wrong time. From the kitchen, the man guided you down the hallway, through your bedroom and into your joined bathroom. He sat you on the edge of the bathroom tub while rummaging through your unorganized medicine cabinet. It was barely ever touched and when it was, it was often in a state of panic hence the messiness of it. Fortunately, Steve found a tube of bacitracin and some cotton dressings from God knows how long ago. At this point he could care less and would rather have you cared for. 

You curiously watched him as he dug through the cabinet and a loving smile grew on your face. How lucky were you to have this man. You were really appreciative of him in times like these especially. 

Said man returned and crouched before you, distracting you from your thoughts as he softly grabbed your hand once more. 

The doctor worked his magic and in no time was your arm wrapped up and lathered in ointment.

“Wow Doc, you did a great job.” Steve was still holding your hand as you quietly giggled in content. He placed a kiss on top of your knuckles and peered up at you with those gorgeous (and borderline seductive) sapphire eyes. Chuckling, Steve murmured against your skin, “Only for my favorite patient.” 

As always, you decided to play along with Steve’s playful banter. “You’re not supposed to pick favorites, doc.” 

Your husband knew your clumsy nature and seemed to have the perfect response, “Trust me, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

With your non-injured hand you went to hit his shoulder and he grabbed it in faux hurt. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

“You know, Dr. Rogers, that is a violation and I can actually report you for it.” You lifted your line of sight to see Steve who looked back at you with his lips pressed in a fine line. He shook his head disapprovingly after reaching the end of the report and now looked like he was going to sit back in the seat beside your bed. 

“Hey, what are you doing? They already examined me and I am about to get released.” The man ignored you and instead leaned over the flimsy bed railing. Steve rubbed his hands together in a warming manner before placing two fingers on your next in an attempt to find your pulse. He unfortunately carried that common trait among doctors of having hands that were colder than that of a penguin’s ass. You knew very well this pulse check was useless as you were in conditional health and that he was probably doing this to annoy you. 

“Well I like to do a check of my own. It never hurts to get a second opinion, darling.” Blue eyes squinted at you and you returned the patronizing gesture. 

The free hand that was not on your neck had found its way to hold your own hand and when your husband pulled back, he wore a smug smirk on his lips. 

“Your pulse is a little high. Is it because I’m holding your hand?” 

“You know, your shoulders must hurt from carrying such a big head all the time.” Steve had the nerve to laugh at your elementary grade insult and even though you weren’t really mad, your face would have said otherwise to anyone else. 

“So I’ll take that as a yes then, wifey.” He then quickly dropped to press a chaste kiss to your lips before releasing your hand and sitting down in the chair. 

Looking to the clock on the wall, you focused your vision on the distant numbers to read that it was most likely Steve’s lunch break.

“Are you spending your lunch break with me?” Your tone was now sweet and soft as it usually was towards Steve and his heart leaped at the progress being made. 

“It seems that I am. ‘Was really looking forward to that chicken salsa, though.” A heap of blonde hair rested on your hand that Steve had now laid his head against, still holding tight with both of his own hands. You giggled at his dramatics and ruffled a free hand through his greasy hair. 

“I haven’t eaten anything, you think you could spend your lunch break with me?” His head popped up at this and his face held the eagerness of an energetic puppy. 

“Of course, sweetheart. We can head to the cafeteria. Hopefully they have something good for my girl.” It was now your turn for your heart to swell at his words. Not even a second later though, the sentimental moment was replaced with Steve’s usual sarcastic humor. 

“See, I love you so much that I am willing to sacrifice my precious chicken salsa just to have lunch with you. You should be grateful to have me as your husband.” Steve’s pearly whites beamed at you in a cheesy smile and you gave a dismissive wave of your hand. 

The two of you talked and enjoyed the rare time together for the next ten minutes until Steve noticed you shifting to sit up against the pillows. He thought nothing of it until suddenly you were throwing your legs over the side of the bed and making to get out of the so called cotton prison. 

Waving a finger, Steve tutted you and hurriedly scooped your legs back onto the bed. You looked absolutely peeved and Steve knew it was from the way that he was treating you like a child or better yet, a patient. His wife, the fighter and he, the doctor. Two unlikely personalities but ones that worked best together nonetheless. This made Steve laugh whenever he thought about it.

“You can get up the minute you get released by the doc, okay?” Caring eyes now gave you a pleading look and you felt a small tinge of guilt crawling up your chest at how mean you had been to your husband when he has only been trying to help. 

A knock on the wooden door signaled a visit from the one person you had been waiting on for what seemed to be ages. 

“Speak of the devil.” Muttering the phrase so only Steve could hear you gave him an “I told you so” kind of look. 

The Doctor looked up from the same clipboard as earlier to greet you once he made it in through the doorway, but he was surely surprised by the figure sitting in the chair beside you. 

“Oh Dr. Rogers, what a surprise! So this is your wife I presume? I guess I should have put two and two together,” Your doctor of the moment laughed with Steve who added in a chuckle or two of his own. 

“Yep, this is Mrs. Rogers!” Steve didn’t look at you, but lovingly squeezed your hand that was resting against his, “We are quite the handful so I am surprised you couldn’t tell that she was my other half.” A snicker ended his words and you couldn’t help but do the same. 

Once the short introductions were over, the doctor walked over to do a speedy final exam on what was necessary as Steve watched from the sidelines still getting used to the idea of not being the one doing the examination. He hadn’t been in any other position in the hospital for such a long time that it took some time to get used to the fact that he wasn’t the one diagnosing and rather waiting for the diagnosis. 

The doctor pulled away from hovering over you and now sat back on his rolling leather stool, scooting his way over to the computer and desk. 

“Well I must say, (y/n), that you definitely live up to some of the stories your husband tells.” The other man in the white coat finished up his typing before turning back around to face you and his colleague. 

“Ah, I hope he’s giving me some good street cred,” You teased and from the side you saw Steve shaking his head and chuckling under his breath. 

“I assure you that they were all good things.” With that, the doctor formally released you, walking out of the room to give you some time to redress and such.

You went to get out of the bed for the nth time, but finally succeeded. Your legs felt a bit wobbly upon the first step, and Steve noticed this. He came up to stand beside you and placed a hand on your lower back with the other out in front in case you did fall. Placing your own hand on his scrub clad chest to steady yourself, you silently thanked him with a tender pat. 

With Steve’s guidance, you went to change out of the wretched paper gown and into your shorts and shirt from working outside. It wasn’t exactly the most flattering outfit but at this moment you could care less for the only thing on your mind was getting out of this room.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The ride in the elevator seemed to move slower than a snail and almost stopped on every floor. You were so crammed by the time you were only on the fifth floor that you used this as an excuse to lean up against Steve. He rubbed your arm and enveloped you in a side hug and planted a kiss on your head. The two of you never cared for PDA but neither of you had realized the onlooking eyes. 

You found it mildly comedic when some of your fellow passengers seemed disgusted that a doctor was handling a patient in such a way. It was definitely gonna be a joke for later on. 

Eventually you made it to the first floor and begrudgingly pushed yourself out of Steve’s warm embrace when the smell of garlic bread hit your nose. 

“Huh, they never cook spaghetti around here. They must know we have a special guest today.” Steve pressed his lips against your ear to jokingly whisper to you as he ushered you out the elevator doors. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Standing in line with a plastic tray at the cafeteria made you have flashbacks to middle school lunch and you shuddered at the thought. The memories played back in your mind like a movie and were interrupted (much to your relief) when Steve tapped your shoulder.

“You want this?” Steve held one of the plastic salad containers in hand, the white sleeve of his lab coat draped on top of the other stacked bowls in the open air freezer. 

You nodded and he placed it on your tray, slightly bumping your hips as he walked past to grab a drink.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

For a good twenty minutes, you and Steve sat in comfortable silence in one of the booths until clicking clogs came closer and closer. So close that a shadow loomed over your table conveying that someone was here to speak. 

“Dr. Rogers, I don’t think it’s entirely wise of you to have lunch with your patient. Actually, it’s quite inappropriate.” The older woman in burgundy scrubs pointed her gaze to the hospital band on your wrist and both you and Steve started laughing upon noticing. So that explained all the weird looks.

“Oh no, Dr. Williams! This is my wife (y/n),” You politely beamed up at the woman and set out your hand for a handshake. At this, her unenthusiastic expression changed to one of apologetic and she shook your hand with much grief as Steve continued on with his introductions. 

“(y/n), this is Dr. Williams. She is the medical director for my department.” 

“Wow! I’ve heard many wonderful things about you, Dr. Williams.” She went to return the praise before a beeping in her coat pocket signaled the time for her departure. 

“Duty calls, but I’ll have you know this one here never shuts up about you. It was nice to finally put a face to a name, (y/n),” You glanced at Steve and noticed he was sheepishly grinning and turning redder by the second. So much so that he was hiding his face in his palms.

““I hope you have a quick recovery as well, hon!” The standing woman gave you a nod of her head and then turned to your husband whose face had finally regained its color. “As for you Steven, I will see you later. You have another resident to deal with today.” Dr. Williams sighed at the thought, waving you both goodbye and soon enough she was out the double doors of the lunch room. 

“Ooh babe you’ll have to tell me how all of that goes.” Spooning some spaghetti into your mouth, you goofily raised your eyebrows at Steve. 

“Trust me, it is not fun at all. When I was a resident, I would have never acted like some of the people I’ve trained!” 

You snorted, “Uh huh. Sureee.” 

“No really,” Steve’s eyes widened and he leaned over the table like he was sharing some sort of secret with you, “The audacity of some of these people.” 

“I think you are just an old man now, Stevie, and can’t keep up with the times.” The blond screwed up his eyes and stuck his tongue out at you. 

“Oh hush and finish your food, Miss. ‘I am soooo young’.” A napkin flew at Steve’s chest and the two of you laughed at the childish antics that had just ensued. 

Just as both of your styrofoam containers became empty, an unpleasant ringer sounded in Steve’s pocket, just like the one of Dr. Williams’s departure. Once he gave the screen a swift peek, he looked back up at you with a long face. 

“You gotta go?” Golden strands bobbed up and down as Steve nodded and you grabbed his hand. 

“It’s alright! Thank you for spending the time with me today, though. I really appreciate it. Thanks for putting up with me, you know how I am sometimes.”  

The larger hand encompassing yours gave a sympathetic squeeze. 

“Oh darling, anytime, you know that. If you need anything, call me okay? I will try my best to answer.” 

The temporary silence that filled the room was now replaced by annoying buzzing from the device that Steve had silenced for the moment. He irritability took it out and shoved it back in his pocket. Normally this didn’t bother Steve because this was his job, but since you were here, having just been sick, he wanted nothing more than to drop everything and focus on you. Knowing that was impossible, he tried his best to juggle both yet it seemed that the world wasn’t gonna wait on him. 

“Do you want me to call Ma to come get you? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Her and Dad love your company.” For the moment, Steve appeared to look like he was ignoring the constant beeping, but you knew internally he was already out of the cafeteria and sprinting down the halls.

“No no, I’m fine, honey,” The doctor stared at you as if he didn’t believe you. “I mean it, Steve. I am fine. Now shoo.” 

Dr. Rogers shared another laugh with you before pecking your lips and running out the room shouting, “I’ll see you later!” 

He really was too good for this world. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

a/n: i really enjoyed writing for doctor!steve, so if anyone has any ideas that involves him and that you’d like me to write, send it in! <3

taglist (is open!): @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline @siriuslyslyslytherin @sushiinmidnight @patzammit @iwik3it

[seeyalaterinnovator]

One For The Road - Alex Turner Imagine (NSFW)

Word count: 5.2K (part two to come...)

Rating: NSFW 18+!!!

Synopsis: You and Alex have been friends, but could tonight push that over the edge?

You peered into the mirror, swiping on the shiny gloss over the lipstick you had just put on, giving the subtle appearance of a pout before tossing the tube back into your purse. Nervously your hands tousled your hair which had been slightly messy from moving around throughout the night. As you analyzed your appearance you wondered what Alex thought of you tonight, and whether or not he was actually going to kiss you or if the night would get away from the two of you. 

It had been two years of fighting feelings and biting your tongue each time he’d say something cheeky to you. Sure you had kissed a couple of times, but most of them were borne of whiskey fueled bravery. Tonight you weren’t sure which Alex was in your presence, respectful or brave, though you were praying for the latter. With one final adjustment of your shirt you left the sanctity of the bathroom and back out into the bar to rejoin your cohort. 

“There she is.” Someone spoke as you managed to push your way back through various groups of people, claiming your place along the wall. 

Your gaze wandered over to Alex who was sitting over at the table, hand wrapped around a glass of something that you hoped would be the liquid courage he needed tonight. He looked so handsome sitting there, lost in conversation with one of the others. “Here I am.” You chimed. 

“This place is getting really crowded, anyone wanna pick somewhere else?” Someone asked. 

You were inclined to agree. There were far too many people in this bar, you could hardly even hear what your friends were saying. Plus there wasn’t an open seat to Alex, which was the exact spot you wanted to be in. Sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands if you want something done. “We could go back to my place?” you suggested, knowing you had a fair amount of booze at your house to tide everyone over for the evening. 

By this point Alex had invested himself into whatever you were saying, intently looking over at you. For a brief moment you locked eyes and for the first time that night you actually felt a flutter in your stomach. His gaze was so intent, a sly smile pulling at his lips. He clearly liked your idea. 

“Y/n has a new place, don’t yeh?” Alex asked despite well knowing that you had moved into a new apartment a few weeks ago. 

“Yeah, bit bigger. We can go back there and hang. At least we won’t be bothered..” You trailed off, everyone quickly began to close out their tabs. 

The night had cooled off significantly. As you exited the bar you caught a gust of wind, sending a shiver through your body. A small, deep chuckle could be heard behind you, one from that all familiar voice. “Cold?” Alex asked, stepping closer behind you and running his hands over your arms to warm them. 

“A bit chilly yeah.” You nodded. Before you knew it, Alex was pressing himself all the way to you, wrapping his strong arms around your body, sharing his body heat. His lips incredibly close to your neck, he turned his head so he could speak. 

“Who’d yeh come ‘ere with?” He inquired, a calm yet suggestive tone carried his voice. 

“Mallory, who looks like she is currently otherwise occupied.” Pointing toward your friend who was happily kissing her boyfriend just a few feet ahead of the two of you. 

“Good,” He mused to you, “I’m takin’ y/n!” His voice got much louder as he announced to the group who were spread about over the sidewalk. 

Alex led the two of you over to his car, opening the passenger door for you to slide in easily. He lingered for a moment as you stood there, impossibly close, his eyes followed your form as you slipped into the seat. He rounded the front and slipped in himself, turning the key in the ignition. 

The ride had started off quiet save for some soft music that was playing in the background. Your head lolled to the side and you watched Alex as he drove, admiring the man beside you. This was the first time the two of you had truly been alone together tonight, but would it be the last? 

At one point he lifted his hand from the steering wheel and you watched as he flicked through a few of the radio stations until settling on something a little more rock based. His hand paused and hovered for a moment before he casually reached over and allowed it to settle along your knee. Body slightly tense, you dared not move or flinch of fear that he’d move away. Instead you stared at his hand so gently caressing the top of your leg - it would remain there the rest of the drive. When Alex parked on your street he turned to you as if wanting to say something, but the words dried up in his mouth and instead opted to smile over at you. 

“What?” You asked, curious of his sudden lack of words. 

“Jus’ enjoyin the view.” He shrugged, his hand squeezing just a bit before releasing altogether. 

“Cmon, let’s go inside.” 

You let out a steady exhale to rid yourself of the nerves you had built up once you stood up out of the car. Not that you didn’t enjoy it immensely, but you clearly hadn’t psyched yourself up for the possibility of the brave Alex tonight. Once you rounded the corner, you began to rummage through your purse looking for your keys as you walked. That same warm presence filled the space next to you once again, this time with a steady hand to your lower back as you walked. 

The gesture was small yet protective, almost possessive without being too aggressive. You swallowed thickly, telling yourself that you were only a few moments away from being able to down another drink to calm your nerves. The remainder of the walk his hand would stay glued to your lower back, and would go unnoticed by the rest of your friends. 

Once upstairs you were met by a few friends who were lingering around in the hallway. Someone mumbled something about you and Alex, but you opted to ignore the comment in favor of focusing on opening the door to let everyone in. 

“Sorry if it’s messy… wasn’t really planning on having company tonight.” You apologized as you swung the door open, allowing your friends to all hoard in. 

Lingering around, you watched as all your friends began to settle around the living room, coats being shucked off and dumped on your spare bed. You took note of Alex’s leather jacket sitting on the bed off to the side, causing you to half wonder if he had planned on leaving earlier than the others. Everything seemed to be going well so far, at least you thought.

With a promise of drinks, you made your way off into the kitchen and rummaged around your cabinets and began to grab various bottles to set out on the counter. This moment alone allowed you to reflect on tonight thus far, and to worry about how the rest of it would go. He was here, so that was something. Alex could have easily gone home but he opted to follow you back to your place. 

“Need any help?” Alex’s voice popped back into the room. He was smoothing back his hair when you looked back toward him. 

“You could grab some glasses.” You suggested, pointing toward the cabinet the glasses were located. A smile had crept it’s way up to your lips, Alex had gone out of his way to seek out where you were. You had to silently scold yourself though, to stop acting like a giddy school girl and to play it cool. 

The two of you met at the island in the middle, laying out different things here and there. His hand wrapped around the bottle of cinnamon whiskey as he eyed it, a devilish smirk evident in his features. “I know that look Turner, what are you up to?” 

“Let’s do a shot, just us.” He said, already pouring the golden liquid into two shot glasses with a wink. 

He pushed the glass toward you, a small bit spilling over the edge and onto the counter. Despite your better judgement, you took hold of the glass and clinked with his before downing the liquid down your throat. It burned on the way down and settled into your stomach, and soon that warm cozy feeling would start to take over your senses. You both chuckled as your glasses came back down onto the counter with an echoing clunk. 

“Alreyh, I’m goin’ to go out for a smoke.” He announced

“I have a balcony off of my room, upstairs, second door on the right, you can go there.” You nonchalantly mentioned, though the thought of him in your bedroom made your stomach flip. “Door should be unlocked.” 

“Thanks.” 

Alex disappeared off and you busied yourself in making a few different drinks to bring out. You took your time, hoping that by the time you were done Alex would be back and hopefully you’d manage to plop yourself next to him again and savor whatever time you had left with him tonight. With a tray full of drinks, you made your way back into the living room and started to hand them out - quickly noticing that Alex was not back. 

“I’ll be right back.” You excused yourself to make your way up the stairs quietly, heading straight for your room. You found Alex exactly where you thought, leaning over the balcony as puffs of smoke rose over his head. 

He turned around once he heard shuffling behind him. To play it cool you headed over to your closet to grab a sweater, as if the whole reason you came up here wasn’t to see him. Large brown eyes blinked over at you as he settled against the balcony, this time facing you. “How’s it going?” You ask, looking over to him as you pull the cardigan over your arms. 

“Good, wanna join meh?”

Without a response you shuffle over out onto the balcony next to him. He flicked his cigarette, ashes falling over the edge and flitted down to the ground slowly. You weren’t much of a smoker, at least not as much as he was, but you did partake occasionally, especially if he was offering. 

“Want one?” 

“Nah, I’ll just take a puff of yours.” You shook your head, taking the cigarette between your fingers and wrapped your lips around the end. Alex’s gaze fixed as you inhaled and watched the residual smoke waft around your face. Carefully you handed him back the cigarette as you exhaled, blowing to the side so that you did blow it all over him. Between this and the shot you downed earlier, you were feeling much more relaxed. 

…..

When the two of you returned, all of your friends had managed to pair off with each other around your apartment. There were a few in the kitchen, some sitting along the couch, leaving you and Alex to yourselves once again. Was this fate or divine intervention? 

The couch already occupied, you chose to just sit along the wall in the back and rather than finding someone else to chat with, Alex chose to follow suit and sit next to you - not that you minded one bit. 

“So, working on any new music lately?” You made light conversation, though you were genuinely interested. 

“Got a few things in the works. Miles and I wrote somefin’ just the other day actually.” He answered. 

“Anything good?” You teased, praying he’d know it was a joke. 

“It’s alreyt.” He shook his head, ever amused at your wit. “Wha’ bout yeh? Wha’s new?”

“Nothing overly exciting,” You shrugged, “Just been settling in here, work, the usual. Not all of us get to be fancy rock stars with exciting lives.” 

“ ‘S not always as excitin’ as it seems, always bein’ gone. Don’t get meh wrong, I love it, jus’ wish to ‘ave a little normal sometimes.” He revealed and for the first time that night you wished you weren’t here with all these people.

“I bet, probably can’t be easy always, but nothing is.” 

The conversation continued well into the night. Occasionally someone would join in the conversation and sit with the two of you before wandering off again. Gradually people would also leave, the crowd and chatter diminishing by the hour. Soon it would be just the two of you again. 

At around 1am you peered over at the clock, surprised to see how late it had gotten. It was crazy how fast time flies by when you were occupied with Alex’s presence. By now there were only three people left including yourself. The last person had disappeared into the spare bedroom to grab their coat and said their quick goodbyes, stumbling out of your apartment while grumbling about having to work the next morning, leaving you and Alex officially alone together for good. 

“God when did it get so late?” You groaned, looking around at the mess you still needed to clean up. 

“ Not  that late y/n..” He laughed, recalling nights where it wouldn’t be until 4am before he would return back to the safety of his hotel room while on tour. “How ‘bout another drink?” 

You were hesitant, knowing that you probably had enough as it was, but the way his eyes pleaded made it near impossible to say no. You had half a mind to say no though, because you weren’t entirely sure that you would behave yourself given the opportunity. But there he was, standing there with that stupid sly smile and you simply couldn’t turn him away. “Alright, one more.” You sighed, motioning for him to sit on the couch while you went to pour one last round. 

There was an anxious tremor that was present as you gripped onto the bottle, pouring two glasses of whiskey neat. Your stomach was in knots, but the kind that were of anticipation rather than being scared of something. Tonight had gone so well, well enough in fact that you wanted to finally share your feelings. “Here goes nothing.” you mumbled under your breath, making your way back to the living room. 

When you emerged from the kitchen you found Alex lounging on the couch, seated back comfortably while he scrolled on his phone. He quickly tucked it back into his pocket though when he heard you return, happy to give you his undivided attention. You sat down, handing him the drink, fingertips brushing up against each other as you passed the glass. 

You settled yourself alongside him on the couch, nestled carefully, deliberately close. You brought the glass to your lips and took a drink, knowing that it was going to be your final push over into dangerous territory. What drew your attention was the warm contact that brushed against your leg as you settled comfortably. 

“I had a really good time tonight.” You mentioned, your tone happy and bright. 

“Yeah me too. Been awhile since I got to spend the evenin’ with me friends.” 

Friends. The word almost seemed wrong in this context. You seemed to be stuck in this zone of friends and friendlier, and you didn’t know how to get past that barrier. He wasn’t like this with all of his other female friends, and while he had a flirty streak in him, his actions tonight were far beyond flirty. Inhaling deeply, you grabbed your glass again and took a drink as your body stiffened, unsure if you had read all of his signals wrong tonight. The last thing you wanted was to make a fool of yourself. 

Alex noticed the subtle change in your demeanor, and while small, he wasn’t quite sure what had happened. He stared at you for a moment, examining your eyes because he knew you all too well. “Wha’s the matter?” He asked cautiously, eyes narrowing while extending his hand out once again only this time it rested higher up on your thigh, gripping with a bruising pressure. 

“You know Alex, I just can’t get a read on you. One minute you are being real handsy and cheeky, and the next you call us friends. Which is it? Because I’m not sure how much longer I can wait.” You blurt out, shocked at your own bravery. You stared at him, wide eyed, mouth slightly parted. 

When he didn’t say anything right away, you knew you had blew it. Maybe you had thought all of it up in your head after all, and now you sat before him looking like a complete fool. The anxious bubble crept up your throat and in a desperate attempt to quell it, you quickly stood and began to take a few steps away from the couch. “God I’m crazy!” You sighed, rubbing your temple. 

“You aren’t crazy.” He murmured, having stood himself and for the third time that night found himself pressed up against your back. Your eyes screwed shut, feeling his hand lift to push away the hair that rested along your cheek to tuck behind your ear. The tip of his finger trailed along the curve of your jaw and down your neck in a hot line, this touch burning and leaving a tingling feeling in its wake. 

There was a pause before the warmth of his lips ghosted over the tender skin of your neck, finally planting firmly to press a hot - open mouthed kiss over your pulse point. Deep within your chest, your breath hitched and instinctively you tilted to the side to allow him better access. His other hand had snaked to the curve of your waist, gripping at your flesh to keep you in place. “I’ve thought ‘bout doin’ this since I met yeh.” He hummed lowly, the curve of his lip just barely brushing along the outer shell of your ear. 

“Alex..” You breathed out, voice shaking. 

With great ease, he spun you around in his embrace, now faces inches away from each other. His chocolate brown eyes were half lidded and glossy as they peered back down at you, something between lust and love lingering in his gaze. In order to steady yourself you placed one hand carefully on the center of his chest as you swayed in front of him, leaning into his touch. 

Alex treaded lightly in his new territory. His hands were gentle as they explored around your body, places he’s touched a million times before but this time in a whole new light. One hand landed along the side of your neck and jaw, thumb grazing along the crest of your bottom lip. The other hand hung low on your hip, and as you moved, the tips of his fingers lingered dangerously along the exposed flesh as your shirt rose slightly. With the hand that was along your jaw, he tilted your head upward so that he had the perfect view of your soft features. 

He leaned in, closing the gap and locked your lips together, kissing you with enough force to almost knock you off your feet. It was a deep kiss, one that you felt with a stiff ache in the knees and for a moment you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to stand anymore. Your chest pressed up against his, you wondered if he could feel how fast your heart was racing. 

Once comfortable and sure that you weren’t dreaming, you began to kiss him back, bunching some of his shirt in your fist. He hummed contently against your chest, the tone vibrating against you. And for the first time ever, the two of you got lost in each other completely, forgetting about the world around you. 

“Y/n.” He spoke between kisses, repeating himself until both of you were able to get a grasp on to reality. “y/n.” 

“What…” You whispered. 

“Should I go?” He asked, not wanting to get too carried away too fast. You dismissed the thought quickly, bringing your lips back to his, only to have him pause again. “Y/n, are yeh sure?”

“Alex I’ve waited two years for this.” you answered firmly, taking a step back so that he would really listen to you. “I’m sure.” 

To solidify your statement, you reach out to grab his hand, lacing your fingers amongst his. Your palm felt clammy but your grip was sure and steady. Without another word you turned on the balls of your feet and began to lead him back toward the staircase, and he followed now sure of his position. 

About hallway up the stairs he stopped in his tracks, pulling on your grip. Confused, you turn around to look back at him to see what was the matter. Nothing was wrong though, as he leaned in again to kiss you, this time with ….

“ “ave I told yeh how pretteh you are?” He drawled, taking in the sight before him. 

When the two of you finally reached your bedroom you pulled him in across the threshold, not bothering to kick the door shut. It was just the two of you anyways. “I can’t believe this is happening.” You divulged, in awe that this scenario you had played in your head millions of times was actually happening this time. 

“Well believe it, love.” 

The gap closed once more for another kiss, bodies pressed together, fitting so nicely. Your hands wound their way into his hair, his gripping along the bottom of your blouse. He let out a muffled moan as if to ask if he could rid you of the fabric, deeming it unnecessary. A fervent nod allowed him to lift the material up and over your head to reveal a black lace bra that cradled your breasts perfectly. 

The heat rose to your cheeks and down your newly exposed chest once his eyes scanned over your form. He shook his head in disbelief that he had someone so beautiful sprawled out before him. He felt incredibly lucky, and he was going to show you just how lucky he felt. The bed dipped as he hovered over you, his knee resting between your thighs, one hand on either side of your head. You stared up at him, lost in thought, noticing the bits of hair that had fallen in front of his forehead. 

It wasn’t long before Alex was leaning in again, peppering kisses along your jaw in one languid motion. Lips gilded along delicate flesh carefully, giving full attention to the spots that elicited a soft moan or breathy gasp. He’d smile against you each time a little noise would slip past your lips, fully aware of the blissful state he was putting you in. There was one particular spot, the junction between jaw and neck right under your ear that you particularly enjoyed, and when he suckled at the tender flesh your hands reached out to grab at his shoulders. 

You breathed in heavily, inhaling the scent that seemed more intoxicating than the liquor you had downed but an hour earlier. He smelled rich, notes of sandalwood and something along the lines of cinnamon, likely from the whiskey you took, and the remains of the cigarette you had shared. Alex soon found himself lost in the moment as he made his way down your throat, planting a hot kiss to the hollow dip in your neck before moving along to your collarbone. Swiftly, his tongue jutted out to lick a small stripe along the length of the bone before suckling at the skin once again. 

Meanwhile one of his hands had crept up along to the curve of your exposed waist, gliding up to caress your ribcage, feeling the speed at which you breathed, speeding up and slowing down with the pace of his ministrations. The thrill of it all was exciting and new, but he wanted to savor this moment for as long as he possibly could - needing to make up for lost time. 

“Alex...” You pleaded.

“I know.” He whispered like a vow against your skin, a hushed promise that he would care for you. 

As you squirmed underneath his body, he continued at his leisured pace, this time nosing at your sternum. He loved to take his time, building anticipation as he worked you over lovingly. Occasionally his hand would slip along your thigh, kneading the muscle and grabbing, inching ever higher until his fingers lingered around the waistband of your jeans. Pausing to peer up at you through thick eyelashes, he waited for a green light. 

Your nod wasn’t enough, he wanted to hear your voice, strained and needy, breaking as you begged for him. 

“Are yeh sure?” He asked, his voice husky yet sure as he looked for any hint of hesitation on your face. 

“Please..” The single word dripped from your mouth like honey, thick and golden, desperate and ready, and it was more than enough to reassure him that you were ready. 

His fingers made quick work of the button of your jeans before starting to pull the fabric down your legs. To help, you lifted your hips to allow the fabric to slide down your thighs, revealing more expansive flesh for him to grab and admire. A low groan echoed in his chest as he looked you over, pulling back so that he could pull the fabric all the way off and discard to the floor. “Look at yeh.” He breathed out. 

Your giggle echoed through the room when he wrapped a hand around your ankle, bringing his lips to the inside and made his way in a line of kisses all the way up to the inside of your thigh. You watched intently, finding it increasingly hard to remain still as he worked his way closer and closer to where you craved his touch. He stopped a few inches away from your hip to move back to your tummy, kissing the flesh just above the hem of your underwear. 

A curved knuckle brushed down along your clothed core with just enough pressure to cause you to jump at the friction. He noted how wet the fabric was as his finger stroked back up and down, only fueling his desire to make you feel good. “All this for meh?” 

You nodded fervently, wiggling your hips to try and get the slightest bit of pressure to satiate the burning feeling growing between your legs. “Yes all for you Alex. Only you.” 

Leaning down once again, he slipped two fingers inside the fabric of your underwear and pressed them against your core. You let a breathy gasp slip, your hips adjusting to the new friction. “Relax for meh, princess.” He spoke in a low tone, staring up at you from between your legs. 

It seemed a near impossible task, ‘relaxing’, when Alex was happily making a home nestled between your thighs. This was something you had played over and over, thinking about, dreaming about, not that you’d ever thought it would become a reality. You blinked up at the ceiling, half dazed the other half of you on edge from the way his fingers would brush over you with just enough pressure to electrify your skin. 

You craved more. More pressure, more touching, more friction, more of him. “Al…” You whined, words drawn out long as you fought the urge to scoot your hips down against his hand. He noticed the small twitches, the slight tilt of your hips and retracted his hand away from your core, leaving you a whining mess. “Now, now… wha’ did I say?” He tutted, hand lightly tapping around the outside of your thigh twice. 

“Relax.” You huffed in response, making it a point to take a deep breath in and out, willing your muscles to relax a bit. As you did this, his fingers curled around the fabric of your underwear, dragging the fabric down your legs and dropping them on the floor, leaving you open and exposed.

“Good girl.” His head dipped down, first pressing a light kiss to the divet where your hip met your tummy, then moving to hover over your core. His tongue licks languidly over your entrance, lapping over you. The warmth his mouth provided, along with the newfound pressure had your hands clutching at the sheets desperately.

This went on, the back and forth of tongues and fingers until you started to squirm more underneath him, wiggling around on the sheets as your muscles began to tremble and quake. The pit of your stomach burned and fluttered at the same time, tensing with each stroke against your clit. 

“I,” You panted, chest rising up and down quickly, “Alex I’m close…” You tried to focus your breathing. Your whole body felt warm, a warmth that radiated from deep within you. 

“Go on then, let go for meh.” He continued to rub his thumb in tight circles while his two fingers pumped in and out of you, curling and pushing to try and coax you over the edge. 

A tight feeling deep in your stomach finally gave way, like a dam had finally let loose and the floodgates were the shockwave of your orgasm. You felt like you were floating through the air, warmth spreading through your veins as you rode out the euphoria. The edges of your vision blurred until your eyes screwed shut in pleasure.  He continued to place a steady pressure against you, helping you through the height of it and safely back down into the present moment. 

“Good girl.” He marveled, almost at a loss for words at how perfect it all was.  

Your mind grew less fuzzy, but your body was still charged with an electric buzz. His hand connected with your thigh again, rubbing gentle lines up and down as you grew more aware of your surroundings, a sappy smile beaming up at Alex. 

“Wow.” You said, rolling over slightly to face him better. You bit on the inside of your cheek as you propped yourself up on your elbows, eyeing his belt before reaching out to tug on it. He made no effort to stop you, watching as you began to undo his pants as he had done for you before, standing so that he could step out of them. 

Adjusting yourself, there was a deep burning in the muscle of your inner thighs as you positioned yourself to sit along the edge of the bed. You brought your lips to his abdomen, kissing along the crease of his hip. “Are you going to fuck me?” You asked, feigning an innocent glint in your eyes as you looked up at him. 

Tenderly his hand came to smoothing back the hair that had fallen in front of your face, revealing rosy cheeks and a longing look.  He stopped only to cradle the back of your head, looking down at you with a loving gaze.  “Only if tha’s wha yeh want.” 

“I want nothing more.” You blinked up at him, leaning in to press your own lips to his hip. 

(to be continued)

Author’s note: LORD this got long... thus the need to put it in two parts... Make yall wait for more smut muahahah! I kinda feel like this jumped around a lot, so I”M SORRY! BUt please enjoy my loves. I know I did. 

[yourtamaki]

the wanderer’s lodestone

dabi x f!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: violence, detail of injury, murder, morally grey reader, dry humping, mutual masturbation, oral (m receiving), angst ending

if there was one thing dabi has learned over the years, it was that people always fell in one of two categories. there were those who would meet his gaze and those who avoided it. he’s not sure which is worse. the brave ones and their wide eyes, always staring at his marred skin with such sick fascination it made his palms itch in the worst way. or the spineless bastards whose eyes stayed glued to the ground when he walked past only to gawk at him like a sideshow freak when they thought he wasn’t looking.

two sides of the same judgemental coin, all part of the same corrupt society that preaches love until someone doesn’t fit their mold. it was getting harder to differentiate between them and at some point he stopped trying all together. what did it matter if he couldn’t remember how it felt to be regarded like a human being? he didn’t need to be human to carry out his vengeance, he only needed to be alive. 

that changed when he met you. 

it wasn’t his cleanest break-in but he couldn’t care less, too busy focused on not passing out from blood loss. it was shit luck that the alley he had chosen to rest in was part of a new hero’s patrol route. the kid was clearly scared out of his mind when he realized dabi wasn’t just another thug on the streets, his pale face illuminated in the night by blue flame. it was a shame, for a rookie the kid had talent with his dagger quirk, being able to throw and call them back at will, even change their trajectory midair. he could’ve made it far in the ranks. 

dabi wondered if they’d bury him with his daggers, scorched bones and all. 

it wasn’t his problem anymore. all he cared about was finding something clean to wrap the nasty cut on his abdomen. there was no special reason he chose your bedroom window to climb through. it was the first apartment with a fire escape he stumbled upon just far enough away from the ashes of the pro hero that he wouldn’t have to worry about being followed. your dim window was the first he reached and it didn’t take much effort to jam a knife between the glass and the lock to force it open. he thought the place might be empty for the night when he stepped inside and heard no signs of life. he got to work tearing the bedsheets in long strips and was nearly done when you walked in. 

there were people who met his gaze and there were people who avoided it. you were neither. 

you saw him. 

even in near darkness, your eyes found his and didn’t flinch at the monster that stared back. the room stayed silent as you seized each other up save the drops of blood that slipped past where he held his wound shut and splattered on the floor. 

“could you not rip my sheets up?” 

your voice was enough to startle him from his initial shock, twirling the knife once before going back to cutting up the fabric. “i need them more than you do. i’ll be gone in a minute, scream and i’ll kill you.” 

you scoffed but didn't reply, walking across the room and flipping the light on in a bathroom he hadn’t seen earlier. a wave of irritation washed over him as he watched you rummage through drawers. who would turn their back to someone who broke into their home? did you have no self preservation? 

you walked back, tossing several things onto the bed before making your way back deeper into the apartment. “close the window on your way out.” 

and with that you’re gone. a part of him wanted to chase you, to tie up the loose end but the memory of your eyes kept him frozen in place. the thought of those same eyes looking at him with fear made his gut twist and he didn’t understand why. he grabbed whatever you tossed at him, the few strips he’d managed to make and left the way he came. it’s not until he’s found an empty alley to rest in did he inspect the items. ace bandages, an entire bottle of hydrogen peroxide, fish wire and a sewing needle. 

your kindness tasted like pity and acid. he couldn’t convince himself to spit it out even as it burned a hole straight through his tongue. 

dabi hated you and he etched that hatred into his skin, stitch by painful stitch. hated you for reminding him that he had yet to purge the weakness from his soul. the same weakness that forced him to walk past your apartment over the next few weeks. it was stupid to stick around in the city for so long, especially after killing that hero. he told himself it was to make sure you’d upped your security since he’d tumbled into your home but it sounded the excuse rang hollow with no one to hear the lie. 

it became such a mindless part of his routine it took him a moment to realize one night that your window had been shattered open. his throat tightened almost painfully, your eyes flashed in his mind and he was flying up the fire escape a moment later. 

a lean figure was pulling open drawers when the sound of dabi stepping on broken glass made him whip around. it’s a pain, not being able to turn the man into fuel for his ever hungry flames but he didn’t think you’d appreciate him saving your house just to burn it down. 

the man’s movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, taking desperate swings that left him wide open for dabi to sneak under his defences. he’d just managed to grapple the intruder into a chokehold when the bedroom door creaked open and both men’s attention snapped to you. 

“you done yet?” you asked and dabi had to force himself to speak under the full weight of your gaze.

“were you here the whole time?” you nodded, acting far too casual for his liking. “why the fuck didn’t call the cops or something?” 

“i figured you’d show up.” you cocked your head at the incredulous look he threw you. “what, you thought i didn’t notice you coming around all the time?” 

he clicked his teeth in annoyance. “well, what do you want to do with him then, sweetheart?” 

it was a test and it was clear you knew it, glancing down at the intruder that had started weakly clawing at his arm. dabi would kill the man regardless of what you said but your answer would speak volumes on where you stood in this society rotted by false gods. 

“i don’t care what you do, just dump the body far from here.” you didn’t blink once as you sentenced the man to death, didn’t blink as dabi shifted his hold and the echo of a snapped neck rang out in the room. you held steady and a begrudging respect rose up in him.

he heaved the man over his shoulder, being mindful to keep the head hidden from your line of sight. you’d already passed his test, there was no need for you to see it any longer then he’d already made you. he just had to know if you were putting on a front or not. if you were, it would’ve been all the more likely for you to put in a tip about a certain villain that lurked around your neighbourhood. 

but instead you had held his gaze, didn’t look at him any differently and dabi didn’t want to know why he felt so relieved for it. 

he honoured your request, carrying the body through back alleys and shadows to the very edge of the city. his thoughts wandered, as they always seemed to where you’re considered, wondering how soon he could see you again while he watched the flames climb high into the night sky. 

“a tarp? seriously?” he’d lasted two full nights before his feet led him back to your fire escape and the brand new thick tarp that covered the missing window. you were in bed this time, reading a book the title of which he couldn’t make out with the dim light from your bedside lamp, not even bothering to look his way as he made himself comfortable on the window sill. 

“shitty landlord is taking his sweet time replacing the glass so yeah. tarp.” 

“you should move. i hear there’s a lot of break-ins going on around here.” he didn’t like how much your huff of laughter to his poor attempt at humour felt like a reward. 

“not all of us can afford to live in the hero sectors, you know?” 

the venom in your voice when you mentioned the hero sector caught him off guard. they’re one of the more subtle forms of corruption present in all cities with a hero presence. living in the hero sectors ensures one’s total safety from any threat. from robberies to natural disasters, a hero’s priority is focused on the rich who can afford the protection. no hero will ever admit to it, though. on paper, the sectors don’t exist. and yet the heroes flock to the same handful of neighbourhoods the moment a threat occurs. another underhand tactic to keep the poor in their place and the rich comfortable. 

you’ve become that much more interesting in his eyes.

“so, you here to bleed all over my sheets again or what?” 

dabi scoffed, “no, but i was hoping you could take these stitches out and we’ll call it even for saving your ass.” he could rip them out himself but where was the fun in that?

“yeah right. who saved who first?” despite your grumbling you waved dabi over, gesturing for him to sit on the bed while you went off to grab supplies from the bathroom. 

he expected you to pull up a chair once you returned but instead you placed a hand on his chest and pushed him onto his back. it took all his concentration not to flinch when you straddled him, your hand trailing under his shirt, fingertips grazing his burnt flesh as you pulled his shirt up, bundling the material and forcing it into his mouth. 

“you might wanna bite down on that, i’m all out of painkillers.” 

there was a gentleness in how you cut the stitches from his body, how you took care to dab an alcohol soaked cotton pad over each one. it made his chest go tight, unable to recall ever being this close to someone and not walking away with new scars. 

dabi found himself lulled into a trance by the rhythm of your hands, a trance that shattered as your fingertips strayed from the path of the cut, following the rows upon rows of staples that held him together instead. he watched your face closely, waiting for the disgust and horror to swim to the surface but your eyes kept the steadiness they always seemed to have. 

“does it hurt?” you whispered. 

he wanted to tell you that it didn’t hurt, not in the way you thought it did. that the nerves beneath his burnt and darkened flesh had died long ago and he couldn’t even feel the patterns you were now tracing on his stomach. it’s the unblemished skin that hurts, that always hurts. the parts of him that still cling to life. 

the human brain processes pain differently than any other stimulation it feels. pain never dulls, never vanishes no matter how long it lasts. every waking moment, his own mind tortures him with fresh waves of pain and never lets him forget the countless staples that pierce his flesh and tear him open everytime he moves. 

there’s so much he could tell you but the words refused to come out, burning up in his throat and leaving him choking on the ash. 

you didn’t push when no answer came, prying his shirt from his clenched teeth and pulling it back into place. “you’re good to go, stranger.” 

his hands that had been clenched by his sides twitched when you started to move away from him and judging by the tilt of your head, it didn’t escape your notice. you settled back over him and this time he couldn’t stop his hands from gripping onto your waist, trying to stop you from shifting.

“stop that.” he said through gritted teeth.

you gave another roll of your hips and smirked when his fingers dug deeper into your sides, “stop what?”

“you’re a fucking menace, you know that?”

“yeah. but you like it.”

he hated that you were right. but he’d be damned if he gave you the satisfaction of seeing him lose it from a little grinding. he used his hold on you to push you back slightly, spreading his legs even further until you were straddling his thigh instead. syrupy smugness filled his veins seeing you flustered for the first time since he’s met you.

“go on, don’t get shy on me now.” you were quick to shake off any reservations, growling at his teasing tone and grinding down on his thigh with a desperation that sent a thrill down his spine. “just like that, make yourself feel good.”

he couldn’t wrap his head around how right this felt. there should have been a moment of hesitation from either of you as you walked hand in hand over a line you’d have no way of crossing back over but instead you melted into each other, all his senses heightened and flooded with you, you, you. 

he was so focused on memorizing every minute expression that crossed your face he didn’t realize you were asking for help until you moved his hands from your waist to your ass. he was more than happy to take over, setting a brutal pace that had you crying out, bunching his shirt up in your fists to try to stay grounded.

“c’mon baby, let go.”

you cum with a strangled cry and he can feel every pulse and clench of your cunt through the layers that separated you. your whole body shook in his arms as he helped you ride out your high before you collapsed on top of him, your head buried in the crook of his neck. he let your hands wander up and down his sides but grabbed hold of your wrists when they started to make their way between his legs.

he was about to tell you to forget about it, to not worry about the ache that sat heavy and hard in his jeans but the pout on your face when you looked up made him freeze. 

“can i?” you asked, so close your warm breath fanned his face.

“you don’t- i didn’t…” he didn’t want you to think that this is all he’d wanted from you, that this wasn’t why he was compelled to return to you over and over. you seemed to understand his silent struggle, gracing him with a small smile. 

“i know. i want to.” any hesitation vanished at the challenging look you gave him while you freed his cock from its restraints. you held your palm out to him and dabi spat into it, never breaking eye contact as you do the same and wrapped your hand around him, coating his length in the mixture of you. you took as much care touching him as you did cutting his stitches, careful and sure with each stroke, sweeping a thumb over his sensitive tip to gather the precum that leaked like a faucet. 

as you worked his cock, he grabbed your leg that had fallen between his and pulled it up until your thighs were spread over his own. he couldn’t help the low groan that escaped him when he slid a hand into pants and past your panties and felt just how wet you were, sinking two fingers inside you just to hear you whine from the stretch. 

it wasn’t the best angle but dabi made it work, crooking his fingers and letting his rough palm slap against your clit with each thrust. when your eyes started to roll back into your head, he used his free hand to grab the back of your neck, pressing your forehead to his and making sure your vision was filled with nothing but him. 

“keep your eyes on me, don’t fucking close ‘em.” your mouth fell open as you nod, somehow keeping your pace steady even as he felt your walls fluttered around him. “show me that pretty face you make when you cum, sweetheart, i wanna see it again.” 

“‘m cumming ‘m cumming oh fuck- ! ” you gasped as your orgasm hit you. he moaned right alongside you as you squeezed just underneath his blunt tip in a sudden death grip, the pain-laced pleasure was almost enough to push him over the edge. 

you dropped to your knees quickly as you felt his cock twitch in your hand, popping the head into your mouth and rolling his heavy balls in your hand. the sudden sensation of your wet, hot tongue pressing at his slit had him shooting rope after rope of cum down your throat and his head spun when you swallowed every drop and showed him your empty mouth. 

dabi pounced, tackling you to the ground, cradling your head before it could hit the floor and crashing his lips onto yours so hard he already knew he’d have to give a gruff apology when they ended up bruised. he chased the bitter taste of himself that lingered on your tongue and shivered when your tongue ran across his scarred bottom lip and you didn’t recoil at what you felt. frantic, rough kisses melted away into a lazy make out that banished all but one thought from his mind. 

he could get used to this. he wanted to get used to this. 

“hey,” your voice pulled him back down to earth, something soft glimmering behind your eyes and dabi didn’t want to look away until he figured out what it was. “i wanna show you something.”

you wiggled out from beneath him, making your way to the window and pushing the heavy tarp out of the way before stepping onto the fire escape. 

following you up the winding stairs felt natural, like he was born to witness the small smile you threw over your shoulder to make sure he was keeping up. 

the view at the top was underwhelming. too many buildings pressed too close together, all the exact same height as the one you two stood on stretching as far as the eye could see to create the most painfully ordinary view he’d ever seen. but it was quiet. the roar of the streets below couldn’t be heard at all and dabi hadn’t realized how loud it all was until deafening silence took its place. and it was cold. cold enough that he couldn’t tell if the ache in his lungs was from the freezing air or the hazy memory of white hair that floated through his mind.

it was the closest thing to peace he could remember feeling in years. 

“you like it?” you were watching him closely, hopping from foot to foot and he didn’t know what possessed you to come out wearing only your flimsy sleepwear. you seemed proud of the little hidden treasure you found and something stirred in his chest thinking about how you chose to share it with him. 

“‘s nice.” he said, reaching out to cover both your hands in his and using just enough of his ever burning flame to warm you both. he found himself waiting once more for the sudden twist of revulsion in your features, for you to jerk away from his touch but you sighed in contentment as heat seeped back into your fingertips. you brought his hands up to your face, making him cup your cold cheeks and closing your eyes to savour the warmth. 

it was as you nuzzled into his palm that dabi realized exactly how dangerous you were to each other. undeserved kindness and crooked smiles and sharing secrets. he hadn’t earned any of these things and yet you handed them to him like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

and he’ll take them. because that was the nature of the fire he had been cursed with. it takes and takes and takes and you’ll be left with nothing to show for it but the grey ash of your generous heart. and in return you’d lull him with the false belief that he is more than the hatred that flows through his veins, that there was still a person buried under the mountain of rage he carried inside him. he doesn’t think he could survive without it but you would make him believe that he could. 

he’d destroy you. you’d ruin him. 

this, whatever this was that was growing between you was doomed to end before it had even started. he should leave you on this rooftop, leave the whole damn city and forget whatever you had tried to awaken in him. but dabi could never resist the call of destruction, would always want to know exactly how hot and how bright things could burn. what did love look like when it’s been bathed in flames? 

dabi pulled you closer, determined to find out.

dedicated to: @saintdabi​

[kissmetae]

Hope

❧ AU: x Taehyung || Friends to Lovers (Lowkey slow-burn)

You felt distressed, caught up in your own emotions and confused by your over-thought thoughts. Going through a rough patch as some would say, where everything felt hopeless and you found yourself scrolling pinterest till 1am looking for "angsty" core aesthetics to fit your new "vibe" of life. But it was easier said than done to dig yourself a hole when your best friend constantly stood by filling the hole back up as you dug in an attempt to stop you, help you and make you feel better, despite having his own issue to deal with... his crush on you.

|| ANGST + SMUT | 11k | x reader | masterlist in bio ||

❧ Disclaimer: This is fiction. Actions and events in these stories are often exaggerated and to a certain degree unrealistic.  Please have this in consideration when reading fiction, especially if it includes sexual content.

❧ Rating: EXPLICIT || sexual content, unprotected sex ||  Warnings: mention of feeling hopeless, "deep reflection", (reader is troubled by something going on in their life but it's open for interpretation/unspecified)

❧ Smut features: Vanilla, desperate, first time together, unprotected, reassuring/concent asking/'checking in' (is this ok? Does it feel good?) top!Tae and a power outage.

How do you know when you've reached the complete state of hopelessness? Do people ever become 100% hopeless? You inhaled deeply and sighed it out. Gaze to the white ceiling, back on the bed and legs up against the wall. The tingle in your feet from the lack of circulation made them look somewhat less alive and feel cold. With a tilt of the hips you allowed your legs to slowly fall to the side, forming a new pose in the shape of a 90 degree angle on the bed and allowing for the less zombie-ish color to return to your feet. Hopelessness. Feeling like there is no point yet still stubbornly aching in the inner crevice of the head with a wish for there to be a chance for something else. A change, a plot twist a sudden eureka to make the entire world loose it's zombie color pallet and become lively and vibrant again. Hope. Or a wish for hope. It's probably some basic programming, like survival instinct, hope instinct. But at this point you didn't want to believe. You wanted to be grumpy, upset, frustrated. To curse society and curse what isn't fair and curse all the norms and expectations around you regardless of who made them up! Curse the media, curse the mold for perfect and the lip filler ads, curse the restrictions planted by your own beliefs and curse the cause of said belief! But feeling frustrated and angry is hard. Not only is it exhausting but it's the hardest emotion to let out fully and feel satisfied by after. If anything anger and frustration feels like a self-fueling fire that keeps burning more and more until you get exhausted and slump down on the bed with your legs up the wall. Crying would've been easier. You sat up, feeling a brief spin in the head due to your advanced modelling poses and reached for your water bottle. Water, Zen, calm rivers, refreshment, sound of clucking water in the harbor... rain. You turned towards your bedroom window at the sudden raging pattering sound outside. Even the sky needed to cry today. You reached for your phone, having it be faced down for the past hour or so after giving up on ranting about your dilemma to your friend. You had two types of friends. Those who were there for you when convenient and those who were there for you regardless. Taehyung was one of them. 3 missed calls. 15 texts- make that 16. A sting of guilt washed through realizing he must've been worried sick the past hour. Too exhausted to use your vocal chords you opened the text chat. Taehyung was the definition personified of a caring person. Sometimes to the extent where you'd question if it was more than anyone deserved. Did the world deserve Taehyung? You didn't make it through the second text before your doorbell rang followed by a loud bang. It sounded urgent... You got up from bed and slipped your feet into your white fluffy slippers and made your way to the front door of your apartment. You unhooked the clasp and unlocked your door to see one of the rainstorm's victims dripping water onto your doormat. Taehyung, Dressed in a green raincoat and hair clinging to his forehead and temples. His chest was rising unnaturally with his attempts to regain his breathe. "Tae-" He stepped in, an arm wrapping around your side and the other pressing your head to his wet shoulder. "If you didn't make me so worried... I would've removed my raincoat before hugging you." He squeezed. "See this as my revenge." His heart was beating fast. He pulled back after a few seconds, breathing stable and his red hands reaching to unbutton his raincoat. Did he not wear gloves? He pulled the door shut behind him and gently kicked off his boots. Apparently not. "I'll... go hang your raincoat in the bathroom for it to dry" you said, taking it from him. He was quick to address the elephant. "Why didn't you reply to my texts?" He followed behind you. "I... I left my phone to charge and I got distracted..." you made up, hanging his raincoat up in the shower. "I didn't come here to scold you, but when you tell me you're feeling hopeless, you get that it makes me worried right?" His voice was gentle and he looked at you with concerned eyes, stood in the door to the bathroom. Actually.... you didn't. Why would anyone worry... everyone seemed to always take it as nihilistic comedy or something and swat it away with something along the lines of "you’re just hungry" or the classic "are you on your period?" Maybe you were or maybe you weren't but why would that matter? Just thinking about it made you feel annoyed. As if any deep emotion only was caused by a period, it's just a period, why would anyone, let alone someone with a period themselves ask someone else that in a way that minimizes the reason they feel upset or angry or whatever emot- "Hey?" Taehyung pulled you back out from inside your head. "I don't know..." He crossed his arms over his chest and you knew that look far too well. "We'll talk about it, but right now, I'm here to make it better and take care of you. Did you eat?" You shook your head. "Great! Because I stopped by at the shop on my way... before the rain attacked me and picked up some stuff, including~" he said with an eager tone and walked towards the grocery bag you hadn’t noticed until now. He picked it up and dug his hand in for something. "Du du du du" he sang dramatically and slowly pulled out the familiar dark blue packaging. The love of your life, the source of all things good. Chocolate. The good one! Not the weird orange wrapping one you hated, but the blue one, the holy blue one, your favorite one. "I remember your frustration when you saw the empty shelf of horror last week and it was restocked today so i picked up three just in case." "THREE?!" "Mhm!" He nodded proudly. You could cry, finally, but for other reasons. "TaeTae you're the best." You walked towards him, hugging him tight. He was the bestest of the best, the hero, the savior, chocolate delivery man. Oh what would life be without him. A blush spread across his cheeks. "You did it again." He said shyly "Hm? Did what?" "You called me TaeTae." "You don't like it?" "... I do." -- Taehyung had you stationed at the kitchen table while he cooked. With a focused gaze he scrolled on his phone, reading the next step for the recipe while stirring the pot. You were pretty sure he knew this recipe by heart now, he'd cooked it for you before and he should be confident in it but seemingly not enough yet to put the recipe down. The kitchen smelt amazing and you could feel your hunger cry out for whatever was simmering in the pot. Taehyung gently tapped the wooden spoon against the pot as he added another ingredient. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" He asked. That's where you'd left him hanging in your texts when exhaustion took over... "I just..." "Is it /that/ thing?" Taehyung asked, very much knowing of your source for distress already. "Kinda... but this time it feels different... I’m not nervous or eager, I just felt like I was waiting and waiting and what if I waited so long for nothing and I.... it doesn’t make sense but I just feel numb at this point and like I'm losing hope. Like every odd is set against me and I'm the only one dumb enough to still bet on myself." "And me. Except I'm not dumb, nor are you and I'll always bet on you. Always." Oh Taehyung... "Well, as your personal doctor and advisor and therapist and nurse, care-taker, comfort teddy and so on, I am going to prescribe you with some stuff." You chuckled. "Please go ahead." He placed a plate in front of you and another on the opposite end of the table. "Firstly, a good healing meal." "And you’ve already done everything in your power right now, you’ve been working hard. Maybetoohard." He mumbled under his breathe followed by a fake cough. "That said, let me distract you." "How?" "Well, some old school friends wanted to go out clubbing this weekend and-" "You don't like clubbing." "Hold on, let me get to the point. My suggestion is that you can come too, it won’t only be them. There will be the general club people too of course and I think most of them were bringing other friends or their girlfriends too so... it might be fun? If it sucks, we'll ditch and go to the midnight bowling place or noraebang, yes?" Maybe having some social interaction, an excuse to dress up and good music wasn't such a bad idea? The only thing bugging you was the potential mess there could be... and lately with your stressed mind you hadn't been the best at handling those environments, but after all this was just a club, with dancing people... it couldn't be that bad right? Bowling did sound fun too though... But you knew distraction and fun was what you probably needed. Maybe it wouldn't solve the issues but maybe it'd make it weigh less. The small distractions did a lot, a big one should do even more. "Sure." "Really?!" You could've sworn you just witnessed his ears wiggle from excitement. "I'll come." -- When Taehyung said "clubbing" you expected big flashy neon signs, a red rope and a guard and pulsing music coming from inside... not a giant base, a sax and a set-up of almost 4 different types of synthesizers. A jazz club. You should've known. The band was some sort of electro jazz fusion sprinkled with funk type band, as they introduced themselves as and they weren't bad, not at all. In fact this was a lot cozier than an uncomfortable packed nightclub. You just wish Taehyung told you so you could've worn your comfy flowy favorite dress rather than your tight little black one, wanting to fit in with the scene... Taehyung was dressed in black slacks, a green sweater and a brown coat that was hung over his chair, paired with his trademark assortment of bracelets on his wrist. Including the one you gave him for his birthday two years ago. He never took it off since the day he got it. It made you smile seeing it on his wrist. Taehyung's old school friends, the few you had managed to great during the evening were all really nice and most of them had their arm either around another or a hand held by another. You couldn't help but feel a little awkward, the questioning looks that didn't need to be vocal for you to understand. "Is this your girlfriend?" Taehyung just smiled, maybe playing it off was best... or did he just not notice the silent question? At first you expected a shrug or something but nope... "Would you like something more to drink?" Taehyung asked, leaning in so you'd hear him over the music and pointing towards your nearly empty glass. "I think I'm alright." "What?" "I'm ok." You leaned in closer. "Do you want to dance?" You and Taehyung were seated alone at one of the many tables as the majority were occupied dancing to the beats of the band and the rest drinking at other tables or mingling around. You had been up there at least twice, maybe even three times dancing the best you could and Taehyung always being by your side but your brain was starting to get a little drowsy. "I think I'm going to call it a night. But you can stay if you want." "No no, if you want to go home I'll come with you, let me walk you home." "I'll take a taxi its ok" "I insist." "So do I" the few drink he had had were enough to make his words braver and bolder. "It's late, I don't want you to go back alone regardless of if you take a taxi. I'll walk you." Fine. "Ok" Taehyung swept the remainder of his wine  and grabbed his coat and waved some quick goodbyes. It was cold outside. Dark and empty... maybe it was good Taehyung insisted after all. He stumbled slightly, alarming you. Your hands instinctively reached for him and he giggled. "You only had two glasses I doubt you're drunk right now." "Maybe I wiwwle tipdie" he giggled, clearly  acting up. "Does wiwwle tipdie Taehyung need help? Should I carry you on my back?" "No! I should be carrying you, do you have a blister on your heal from your shoes? Sore feet? Sore legs? Anything I can use as an excuse?" You laughed, patting him gently on the back. A cold breeze travelled through the street and you pulled your jacket tighter around you. "You're cold?" Taehyung asked "A little... my choice of dress wasn't the best." "I think you look beautiful." The sudden compliment caught you off guard. "... thanks." "Thanks? For what?" "The compliment" "I'm simply stating the facts." He said, looking to the side and slipping his hands into his pockets. "It sure is cold..." Why was it feeling awkward suddenly? Silence between the two of you would usually be comfortable... "Thanks for bringing me too." "Did you have fun?" He turned to face you again. "Yes, it was better than I expected." "I'm glad to hear that." "But let’s go bowling next time." "Sure!" He smiled widely. A source of warmth suddenly surrounded you and you looked up to see Taehyung's face turned away yet again but his arm resting around your shoulder, wrapping his coat around you and urging you closer into his side till your hips almost brushed against each other. The rest of the walk back home was a few minutes of silence, but luckily you didn't live far. "Home sweet home" "How will you get home?" You asked, concerned. "Ah..." he checked the time on his phone. "Well I've missed the last train... so unless I can find a taxi which so far I've seen none I'll have to sleep at the station." "No you're not, come, you can call a taxi from my place and at least wait inside instead of out in the cold." You said, grabbing his arm and pulling him with you through the entrance. "Nobody's picking up?" You asked Taehyung looked down at his phone with a confused look. "It keeps hanging up on me? I don't know if maybe their line is down or something?" "It would explain why we didn't see any on the walk back." "I guess so... so now what?" He looked up at you. "Guess you'll have to stay the night." He grinned. "Can't remember the last time we had a sleep-over" he chuckled and removed his coat. He was right, it must've been years ago... the last time you could remember was a movie night gone sleep over during winter when it had snowed so no traffic was able to move at all. You grabbed a spare cover and a pillow and handed it to Taehyung, sleepiness already present in his eyes. "Hey." Taehyung said, laying out the pillow and cover on your sofa. "If I have a nightmare can I come lay next to you?" He grinned. "If you have to." He replied with a puppy gaze. "Good night TaeTae." His eyes widened and he looked down at the couch. "... Good night." -- The question was when would you wake to the sound of birds chirping instead of the aggressive rasp of the snow plow dragging across the street? It almost sounded like it was more ir less plowing the asphalt off the earth rather than the snow. More irritating was that it just added to your unsatisfying sleep and rough awakening streak. One good morning was all you asked for... You sat up, slid off the edge of the bed and slipped into your slippers that were neatly set up by its side. A scratch of the head and an adjusting pull of the bun on your head and you headed to you first destination; tea. With heavy steps you dragged yourself out of your room and were met by the surprise you had forgotten was left on your couch from last night, sprawled across the sofa... in only boxers. Oh god. The covers were halfway on the floor, only covering his legs, barely. It was cold too but should you just ignore him... no, you couldn't... but what if you woke him up? He was only in boxers and you were already trying your best not to look but your brain had already registered that they were black and Calvins... please no more information... thigh muscles NO! Chest, focus on the chest. He was breathing, he was alive. Inhale, exhale. You carefully made your way towards him. His chest was toned... the type perfect to rest your head on NO! Messy hair... It really didn't help that your best friend was as attractive as he was. You bent down and carefully picked up the cover, pulling it back up over his upper body. He must've been really cold, his nipples- NO. You shook your head furiously to get rid of the thought. You turned around 180 degrees and marched to the kitchen. Tea. Tea. Tea. Tae. TEA! You could hear the covers rustle as he shifted, followed by a soft groan. Oh no... Please no. Although... why was it so dangerous for him to see you in your own home, making tea. I don't know! But regardless it felt like an action movie stealth scene for the grand heist judging by your heart beat. The boiler was too loud, the accidental clink of the mug as you set it to the counter too, the rip of packaging of the tea bag, the wind whistling outside! Sweat? You were sweating, stress consuming you yet again over the moist pointless little thi- "Hey?" The tea cup smashed against the kitchen floor along with your gasp and you grabbed the door handle of the kitchen cupboard for support. Taehyung starred at you with wide startled eyes. Maybe your screech scared him as much as his sudden presence scared you. "Sorry." He chuckled, voice so deep and raspy you could practically feel his vocal chords vibrate. Your heart was pounding hard. Could he at least have been swaddled in the covers and not in his boxers right now... You diverted your eyes to the porcelain shards across the floor. "Wait wait wait!" Taehyung yelped, holding his hand out to stop you from moving. But it was too late. The dark kitchen along with your giddiness had of course resulted in the unfortunate miss step. You sighed, lifting your foot from the chard as you felt something wet trickle down your foot. Taehyung quickly reached to turn the lights on, the bright shine blinding both of you briefly and making the view of him even clearer. "Stay there." Taehyung ordered. Your kitchen was pretty small so there wasn't much space to move without risking another wrong step. A cup of tea and now all this. You slapped your arms to your sides in a deep pout. Making a new cup now just felt wrong but you craved a cup so bad and it was cold... the floor was cold, you were cold... and not to mention everything hanging in form of heavy weights on your shoulders and chilling on top of the imaginary storm cloud above you right now. It's like your issues were mocking you and just making everything worse. Maybe the issue was that you related to the once-was intact mug. You felt split and unorganized, all over the place and dependent on things you knew you shouldn’t be depending your hope and happiness on but yet day after day you’d lose yourself in a visualization of a scenario of perfection were everything would be ok until again the door was slammed in your face and you had to start all over again. No matter how many times you felt like this time would be different and this time you were ready, this time it'd all go your way because the past was forgiven and your time wasn’t right but again and again .... Your patience was running out. You sniffed, wiping the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand. Taehyung came back holding a broom and a dust pan when he saw your face of tears. "No..." he sounded panicked. He leaned down quickly sweeping the chards to the side of the kitchen and tossing the broom and pan into the pile so he could approach you. Strong lean arms embarrassed you like out of a 6 different angles k-drama scene. A hand found its place on the back of your head, softly petting you as the other pressed you closer to his warm chest. Never had you expected  that hugging Taehyung would feel this safe. May it be because he was the one you could be truly vulnerable with or that he was the one that knew what was going on right now, but whatever he did... he did it just right. "You don't need to say anything." He whispered. "I know." He squeezed you a little firmer. "I know." He reassured. "Sssh" his hand felt so gentle as it caressed you. "It's going to be ok." He felt so warm. "I'm here." His skin felt so soft against your hands. "I'm not going anywhere." Your heart calmed down. Taehyung didn't pull away until you became silent and your breathing stable. But even then he didn't pull away completely, only enough to look at your face and caress his thumbs under each eye gently. "I'll reheat the water for you." He smiled softly and reached for the switch on the kettle. You didn't want to let go, not just yet. But he slipped away carefully and kneeled to sweep up the shards and discarded the pieces into the bin. He briefly disappeared and came back holding his sweater, arms slipped in and pulling it over his head as he entered, causing his shoulders to naturally flex slightly as he slipped it on. He grabbed two mugs from the cupboard, added a bag in each and filled them with the hot water. You tugged and fidgeted at your sleeve as you watched, feeling unusually shy in his presence. "Come, let’s sit on the sofa" Taehyung said and grabbed a mug in each hand but quickly came to a halt. "Your foot!" You had forgotten about it too. He placed the mugs back down and watched you as you lifted to check the cut. "Fuck." Taehyung said and quickly ripped a piece of kitchen towel off and handed it to you. Holding one hand against the fridge for support and the other wiping the smeared mess on your foot you watched as Taehyung quickly disappeared and reappeared again with your med kit. "Does it hurt?" He asked, rummaging through the kit. "No, it just stings a little." He pulled out some disinfectant solution and eyes you quickly up and down. Before you knew it he was stood in front of you, kneeling slightly as you felt his large hand grab a hold behind your thigh and his arm scooped you up on him. Your heart was back to its rapid pace again. He set you down on the sofa carefully and went back to grab the disinfectant and the tea mugs. He sat on the floor in front of you, soaking a cotton pad with the solution and gentle pulling your foot towards him by the ankle. "Ah, thanks goodness it doesn't seem to be deep." He said with relief, gently dabbing the cotton pad to the wound. It stung a little but it wasn't too bad. "All nice and clean, do you have cute band-aids?" "Only boring plain ones I'm afraid." Taehyung scrunched his nose. "Boo." With a band-aid beneath your foot and your longed for tea in your hands you sat next to him on the sofa. "An eventful morning." "I should become your fulltime caretaker at this point." Taehyung joked. "Not that I'd mind." "Will you pay me?" He raised his brows as well as the mug to his lips. "No way." You smiled. "Charity work is good for karma." "I already have good karma!" Taehyung protested, pretending to be offended. He laughed that trademark warm laugh that was like a smooth cackle that somehow always triggered a little firework to go off in your chest. You smiled, looking into your mug as if it'd tell you a fortune. ... you swallowed and looked up. In winter the sun rose late and had begun its voyage above the horizon, painting the sky a bright warm orange tone as it shined in through the window behind Taehyung. No. You didn't have feelings for him. You just felt some post-event shakiness and nerves and for the matter of a fact you finally got your much needed cry. It must just be your chest feeling lighter thanks to the cry. "So, do you have any planes today?" Taehyung asked. "I don't even know what day it is." "Good, I don't have plans either and it's Saturday for your information. But I do have a potential plan and that is, since I'm already here, to spend the day with you unless you have important to do's, which you shouldn't, because you need a break." He whispered towards the end. "A fmnn break." He repeated, biting his lip on the word to censor himself, but he got his point across. "A break would be nice... but when I try, I feel distressed as if I shouldn't be doing it because I'm wasting my time. I need-" "A distraction" Taehyung filled in. You nodded. "Then thou shall sit here and watch my live-in-action cooking show live from your kitchen." He said cheerfully, slapping his hands to his thighs as he stood up. "Do you have strawberries?" He asked. "In the freezer." "Yes!" He made his way to the kitchen, worth to mention is the open floor plan of your apartment so you could see him well enough from where you were seated. The soft messy curls on his head bounced with him as he walked. He dramatically pointed at you with a spatula in his hand. "Welcome." He said, speaking deeply into the spatula. "The pancake and strawberry smoothie extravaganza extraordinaire show with your host." He point his thumb and index under his chin. "Kim Taehyung." His goofiness never failed to bring a smile to your face. He went to grab his phone on the sofa table. "I need background music...." he hummed as he scrolled, spatula still in his other hand. "Jeopardy music 10 hours?" He looked up at you for an opinion. "Please no." He giggled and a calm upbeat song started playing from him phone as he put it back down and resorted to the kitchen. While frying up the first batch he was spaced out, humming on the theme tune to jeopardy anyway. You had made yourself comfortable on the sofa, lying down. The sofa smelt like him now. The same sweet comforting scent as the hug had... and his coat the numerous times he'd wrapped it around you when it was cold or shielded you from the rain with it. But speaking of memory, thinking back at those often occurring times you were also reminded about how a previous "friend" used to try and provoke you into being nervous and shy in Taehyung's presence. You'd been close for years and maybe she had an issue with that or something but she'd always find ways to tease you in way. Claiming Taehyung was giving you "looks" or "checking you out" in ways she as a self-declared expert in men deemed were of more than friendly nature. And since she as expert of men by that likely thought all men were the same, proves how reliable of a source she was. Taehyung he just.... you were close. She just wanted to make you feel embarrassed and self-conscious and make it awkward between you. You hated thinking about that. It made you overthink and feel awkward. Like an evil loop. You looked up at the breakfast chef, catching his eye as he quickly looked back down to the pancakes. You could get used to this view. Handsome man in boxers and sweater making you pancakes when you’re feeling blue, the headline in your head spelled out. The Zen experience of the kitchen fan being turned off brought stillness and Taehyung emerges with a plate of pancakes, disappearing and re-appearing again after denying your offer to help with the strawberry smoothies, plates, forks, knifes and every suitable pancake topping he had been able to locate in your kitchen. And a tube of mustard as a joke that you only kept in your fridge for when your dad came over to dinner and his weird obsession with having mustard on everything. It was probably even expired. "Enjoy your meal." "You're my hero Taehyung." You said, stabbing a pancake. "I can be your hero baby." You froze. "What?" "Haven't you heard that song?" He smiled. Oh.. "Hero? By Enrique Iglesias?" "Ah, now that you mention it-" "With the weird music video were goes on this road trip with the girl and then he's suddenly rubbing money over her body in this random stone house." "Is this what you binge on youtube at 2am when I wake up to 15 links and emotional texts." "Do not judge me!" You giggled. "I'm not, I like waking up to those texts from you. You sent them to me for a reason." Taehyung smiled shyly. "Yeah... anyhow! I have a suggestion, a proposal, a-" "Go on" "Since I'm your hero, but even I weren't. I thought maybe I could stay here a few days? Only if you want me to, of course. I just-" he became shyer. "I like to think that you seem to feel better when I'm around and you're going through a rough time so I'd like to be there for you, like you are for me." Your heart made its presence in your chest known yet again. "You should think.... because it's true." "So?" "It'd be nice." He smiled widely. "Great! But I do need to go home and pack some clothes and... some pajamas and Yeontan! He is a great comforter trust me, he has cheered me up many times when I've cried." "Cried? What were you crying about?" "Oh- uhm it's nothing, it's ok now so." He swatted it away. "Boys cry too." He joked, but it tasted weird. "But he's staying with my parents this weekend, but if you want I can go pick him up." He suggested. "It's ok, he needs time with his grandparent." Taehyung chuckled. "Well they love their grandson so I'm sure they wouldn't mind having him stay an extra day or two." -- You couldn't help but feel bad that Taehyung had to sleep on the sofa... His bag with clothes and necessities was placed in the hallway and the covers neatly hung over the backrest. "We could take turns and sleep in the bed every other day." "I told you it was fine." Taehyung insisted, again. "I just feel bad..." "Then let’s both sleep in your bed and call it even." "...." your cheeks felt hot. "See, so I'll sleep on the sofa. Don't worry about it!" What does he mean "see"? ... you were simply imagining what excuse to use as to how your head would coincidentally end up on his chest instead of your pillow. "Or we'll both sleep on the sofa, but it might be a bit cramped." He continued. "Maybe this was a bad idea..." "Hey no! No, I'm just joking. Don't feel bad ok." Taehyung's hands smoothed down your arms. "Beds are better at healing wounds on the feet too." You exhaled deeply. "Oh TaeTae..." "Doesn't this feel like we're having a pajama party or sleep over?" He smiled. "Kinda, should we build a blanket fort and watch movies?" His mouth dropped open. "I'm just kidding!" You laughed He pouted. "Oh you want to?" A nod. "You want to build a fort and watch movies?" You asked with more excitement. More enthusiastic nodding. You both cracked up laughing on the sofa together. "I'm serious though." Taehyung grinned. -- You lied awake in your bed, eyes to the ceiling. For some wild reason you both thought it would be a great idea to binge through the entire twilight saga series as a source of comedy but you only made it up to half-way through eclipse when it became too much to handle for both of you. The first movie was easy to mock and laugh at and make fun out if but once it got more serious and romantic in new moon it started getting a little awkward. To say the least, feeling flustered from watching twilight but not due to the movie itself but from the presence of Taehyung right next to you in your make-shift sofa blanket fort. You couldn't stop thinking about him. And he was out there... on your sofa, right now. And who knew if he was in cute polka dot pajamas with his hair a mess on the pillow or his tight fitted boxers and his hair tied up.. You bit your lip, crossing your legs at the visual. You remembered the first time you witnessed Taehyung tie his hair up and how it felt like being punched in the gut. It's not possible to be that attractive. "Then aren't you attracted to him?" The voice echoed in your head. Just because you find someone attractive doesn't mean you're attracted to them! Which is very much true. But Taehyung's personality was attractive too which was harder to justify the same way. And his person. And him. The entire package. You sighed. Maybe the stupidest thing you could do right now was reach for your phone and google "do I have feelings for my best friend?" Ah yes. A quiz. Maybe it wasn't so stupid after all, it'd say maybe you like him but you're not into him at the very most. Question 1, do you find them attractive. Well who wouldn't? And like mentioned it doesn't mean you're attracted to him. Yes. Question 2, do they like you? Pfft... what kind of question is that? How would you know? I don't know... or yes I guess? I mean he clearly likes you as a friend or he wouldn't be up to making all this effort for you but do they mean platonically? You ticked maybe. Question 3, Do you stalk them on social media? What the??? He's your best friend! The algorhythm shoves his posts in your face weather you like it or not. Sometimes. Question 4, Do you see them a lot? Yes. Question 5, Do you want to know more about them? You already know everything ... but what he cries about to Yeontan is something. Yes. Question 6, when you see them with somebody else who isn't considered their friend, how do you feel? Jealous. Question 7, when they're around you how do you feel? Nervous or self-conscious or nothing or i don’t know... well nervous AND a little self-conscious depending on the situation and if he's dressed or in just his boxers. Nervous. Question 8, Do you think about them? Yes. Always. Question 9, Do you laugh at their jokes? Another weird one but yes. Question 10, are they your ex? Huh? No. Definitely. A lot. You placed your phone screen down on your chest and let out a sigh. Maybe visualizing a kiss or two while in the shower was a crime after all... or was the question why were you in the first place? He was amazing in every type of way and you wanted to know if he was amazing at kissing too andmaybeinbed but you can't just ask him that or try it out, so you had to resort to imagination.... Who were you even trying to convince at this point? You liked him. Definitely. And a lot. The realization did nothing to help you fall asleep unfortunately. Another 15 minutes in dark silence passed when you suddenly heard the floorboards squeak. Maybe Taehyung was going to the bathroom or grabbing a glass of water... But the soft pats of his feet should've stopped by now... Your half open door pushed open a bit more shyly and Taehyung peaked in. Dressed in pajama bottoms, but no shirt. "You're awake." He said, whispering. "So are you." "I can't sleep..." he rubbed his arm. "I feel lonely." As if you'd deny him looking all shy and vulnerable in your door. You scooted to the side in your bed, making raise his brows in hope and anticipation, fingers fidgeting. "Come." You said, patting the bed next to you. The bed dipped gently as he lied down and you put the covers over him. He shifted onto his side, placing his head on your pillow. This was better. But since you just took an online quiz to realize you had feelings for this man currently shirtless in your bed, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly awkward. "How come you're feeling lonely?" You asked, trying to conceal your stiffness "To a start I sleep better when I get to hold something." He said shyly "Who?" You asked, intending for it to be a thought. "When I'm at home, Yeontan." Of course... "He lays on the bed and I feel less lonely and hearing him walk around or do something makes me feel soothed knowing I'm not alone... for the most part." "Are the tears you cry... tears of loneliness?" You could tell it triggered something in him. He bit his lip and nodded gently, eyes glossy. "For the most part it's just me and a pillow." He confessed. "But you could say-... it's something like that, yes." Face to face, mere inches apart. You thanked the darkness of the room that he couldn't see you blush right now but unreasonable fear that he'd somehow "sense" it in the atmosphere still worried you. You shouldn't have taken that stupid quiz it only made you start overthinking and it was probably rigged and the questions were weird so why should you listen to it? Get back to your senses! He's your best friend and you're comfortable with him! Calm down! "... I know it's dumb" Taehyung mumbled. "I know it seems like I'm this easy-going social butterfly with lots of friends who can find someone to hang out with within seconds... but when I'm alone at home, I just feel so empty. Like if nobody sees me, I don't exist. Thus when I'm alone, I'm not real anymore." "That's very philosophical, but what if someone thinks about you while you are alone? Then wouldn't you exist since somebody has you on their mind?" "But it'd be impossible for me to know and people have better things to do than walk around and daydream about me." It stung a little inside hearing him say this. "People are actually capable of multitasking you see, they can do these better things you speak of and think about you at the same time. I think about you a lot, sometimes I think about you while doing the laundry, riding the bus or taking a show- that sound's wrong." Taehyung chuckled. "But you get what I mean." "What do you mean?" He asked "That I think about you and that you aren't alone TaeTae, you never are. If you're ever feeling lonely, maybe think about me. If that helps. Or get to know yourself more, become your own friend or create an imaginary friend!" "I already do that." "Have an imaginary friend?" "Think about you." Oh. "... does it help?" You asked shyly. He shook his head. "It just makes me miss you and want to come to see you." Is it possible to experience a softer heart attack than you just did? Rather than a heart exploding in saw gore-level mess it gently poofed and became a small cloud of red feathers gently falling to the ground. Since when had you become a softie? Two hours ago you were all if there's no sex in the romance novel, it's not worth my time but now you suddenly felt an urge to ransack the romance section of the nearest library to read every cheesy romance story you could find until you could find one similar to your own. Your... own? What? With... with Taehyung? ... not that you’d visualize every male lead character as coincidentally similar to him regardless of how their looks were described in the book.... "Maybe I do need to spend some time with myself to get over it..." No! Stay here with me! "I can spend more time with you." Taehyung looked up. "I think that could benefit us both." He sounded more hopeful now. "Well, you're already here so it's also convenient." Despite the darkness you could make out the smile on his face that appeared. Cute. But wait... did Taehyung suggest he could stay here for you, because he felt lonely? He shifted slightly and the sheets rustled. His leg accidently brushed against yours and your first thought was to tangle your legs with his in a leg tackle war... but you still felt too on edge to act casual and playful with him like you normally could. You swallowed. "How long have you felt this way?" "A while... a long while. At first it was nothing but then it got worse and even more worse when I realized this one thing." "What thing was that if I may ask?" He sighed. "It's hard to explain... but, say a friend." "Mhm?" "A friend feels kinda lost, existentialism and stuff going on, doesn't like to be by himself, then he finds this person and they make him forget it all but once they’re apart it all returns to him again like they were his escape but only for as long as they were together." "Is that only with that one person or all?" "No no, only that person. And then he realizes he might be in love, or he's addicted to the person in a way, but in a good way not an obsessive way just-" "In love?" "Something like that." "You're in love?" "Huh?! What no! This was about a friend! I'm not talking about me!" "Then what did you realize Taehyung?" You could tell his mind briefly blanked in panic. "I realized that maybe I, as said friend need to find that person for me." "A person?" He nodded shyly. "You want to fall in love?" "I don't know... something like that." 'Something like that' seemed to be his catchphrase this evening. But in love? A person? His person?... that couldn't be you... could it? Did he want you to be his person? Were you his person?? The questions and confusion kept spiraling through your head, (finally) making you feel tired and exhausted. "I think... I just want to tend to someone else than myself, to not have to think so much about it and instead take care of somebody else." "Is that why you offered to stay?" "Yes and no, I want to take care of you because I am genuinely concerned and worried about you, I want to be there for you. But also, sleeping on the couch last night, hearing you tiptoe around the kitchen... it made me feel comforted." His voice sounded drowsy. "If you want... I can be your person in this scenario." You suggested. "You've already become.. person." He mumbled, sinking deeper into his half-awake state. -- You stretched your leg out one at the time, twisting your body gently and inhaling deeply into a stretch, gently batting your eyes open. You pushed a palm against the bed to get up into a seated position when something suddenly restrained you, heavy over your abdomen. Surprised, you raised the sheet to see the reminder of what you had forgotten last night. Over your waist, a lean arm with faint thin dark hairs and a few subtle veins travelling up the forearm from the large hand clung to the side of your waist... all attached to the source of warmth to your left, Taehyung. His dark locks a mess on the pillow, his bare upper body now fully on display in the daylight and his polka dot pajama pants haven travelled down a bit too far low for your sanity... Cursed be the eyes in your skull for travelling down the view. You would've noticed it sooner or later regardless, especially since your thigh was  a hair between touching it. It, being the weird relief of knowing he got some deep relaxing sleep in... but with an awkward morning surprise... and his arm wouldn't grant you freedom without you accidentally or intentionally having to wake him up. You carefully shifted to at least have your thighs at a safer distance, but your bed wasn't intended for two people, so it was easier said than done. His grip suddenly tightened and a low groan escaped him as he shifted. Why did you feel fear as if you shouldn’t be present in your bed in which he entered himself. If anyone Taehyung should be the one fearing his life right now. His thumb caressed your side gently and it felt nice... soothing. Until his eyes suddenly opened wide with a soft gasp as you felt his morning hard on grace against your thigh. Eyes that pleaded and begged you didn't notice pierced into yours and you decided to play along. "Did you sleep well?" His hand quickly retreated to your disappointment. "Sorry i... I did it in my sleep it wasn't-" "It's ok, you said you sleep well holding something and being held didn't feel too bad..." "Well, in that case, I actually slept better than I have in a really long time." He said, voice raspy and deep still. He rolled onto his back, thankfully, and placed his hand behind his head. "Did you?" "Huh?" "Did you sleep well?" "In fact, I did." You said, answering truthfully and resisting the urge to put your head on his bare chest. If only the lord or whoever would stop testing me... "Hungry?" He asked. You nodded. "Great, I'll fix something ok, but close your eyes." "Why?" "I'm shirtless." ... right. You covered your eyes with your hands and the warmth left your side as he got up and escaped the room. You slowly got up, trying to win some time for him but a few brief seconds later heard the sound of the bathroom door down the hall closing and locking. Yikes. That went smoother than expected. You set up some tea, knowing Taehyung described coffee as the closest to unlethal poison you could find, you knew he'd prefer tea or hot chocolate and that there was no use to ask. You knew him too well. It was nice having him here. And waking up with a strong arm around your waist wasn't too bad either... if only you could've let yourself enjoy the moment instead of freaking out, what if he grew cautious now and you'd never experience it again? You sighed softly, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard. After a while, the kettle clicked and you poured some water into each mug. It had been a while now... ... was he meditating in there? There was no sound of the shower, or anything, not that you were listening. Would it be weird if you asked if he was ok? Since the kettle was off the entire apartment became significantly more silent. You heard a faint mumble. "Fuck..." You swallowed. Ear please momentarily turn off, mind and imagination too please. You reached to put the kettle back on but since the water was already hot it clicked off again after 5 seconds. The bathroom door opened and you braced yourself to not look down. Luckily, he was now wearing his oversized sweater or else you would've failed immediately. He let out a soft chuckle. "I spaced out." His cheeks were flushed red and glowing. Right. "I made you some tea." -- Why were deep topics always easier to talk about at night? Were people like clams? You wake up and it opens a little and once we hit the night the clam is fully open and then closes during sleep to a new no-talk-me-I-not-have-tea-yet to ask-me-about-how-i-view-existentialism cycle? Or were nights just vulnerable with the darkness? In that case you should metaphorically speaking be an open clam all day during winter when the sun goes into its own hibernation. But here you were again, just like last night, except... 20 minutes into the sudden power outage that made your impromptu movie night come to a halt. And it was getting really cold. Bundled up under a cover together, staring at the flicker of the candle on the coffee table in silence. "I was going to offer to make you tea to warm you up but the kettle..." Taehyung said with a soft chuckle. "The power will probably come back any moment soon." He said optimistically. As you looked out of the window earlier, you noticed it wasn't just your place, but the entire block seemed to have an outage. Unusual. But the current roaring rain storm outside likely had something to do with it. The wind was aggressive, the windows shook, it whistled in a creepy way and the trees outside rustled loudly. "How about we play a game?" Taehyung suddenly suggested, breaking off the silence again. He was feeling awkward, you could tell. He always rested his hands in his lap, fidgeting or poking at the cuticles of his nails when he felt awkward. "Sure, what should we play?" His face lit up. "Questions and answers? I can start!" "Shoot!" You folded your legs and shifted to face him on the couch. "What's your ideal type." ... he... immediately went there. "Looks or personality?" Taehyung shrugged. "Both." "Well it depends on the vibe they give off of course... and mainly. I guess tall, but it's not that important, wide shoulders are always nice." You paused to think, how can I describe Taehyung without it sounding like I'm describing Taehyung. "Funny, caring, optimistic, outgoing..." "Like me!" He smiled widely. You leaned back, squinting while caressing your chin, examining him playfully. "Hmmmn" He placed his hands under his jaw, like he was displaying his face and batted his eyelashes. "Not bad, not bad." He looked disappointed. "Just not bad?" You playfully nudged his arm. "It's your turn to answer. "Fine." He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest but cracking a giggle. "I'll ask you the same question." "Very original, you." "It's called recycling, so tell me." "I did." "Huh?" "You." Your heart froze briefly before beginning to pound. "Me?" "Mn!" He said confidently. "You're not bad" he mocked. You swallowed. "I have a question about the rules." "Go on" "If I ask you anything, do you have to tell the truth?" "Yes! Nothing but. So you better tell me what you actually think rather than 'not bad'" "Is the friend you talked about actually you? And am I the person?" He tensed up, swallowing. "I guess it was obvious..." he mumbled, rubbing his arm and looking down at his lap. "I just..." he began, but reluctance interrupted him. "I understand." You said. He looked up, seemingly surprised yet still tensed "I make you feel less lonely." He nodded slowly. "Which makes sense. After all we're best friends." You continued. "... right." He looked away. "Best friends." Taehyung reached up to move his hair away from his eyes, still facing down as if he was considering something. "So... what do you think of me?" His voice sounded more serious. Where to start of course he was gorgeous! Wide shoulders, a build you'd die to slide your hands down, dark big eyes, a sweet smile with plump lips, sculpted perfectly and his honey skin. Person wise... he was someone you'd want to have as your person. "A nice person" He scoffed. "Seriously?" He seemed upset. He finally looked up, meeting your gaze. There was a sparkle in his eye. The warm light from the candle made his face glow even more. "I mean person as in the person you have, a your-person" "A nice your-person?" He tilted his head. "You told me yesterday in bed that you can feel like someone is your person because they bring you comfort and make all your problems go away and you feel better just by being in their presence! A nice that-type-of-person." "But I was talking about you!" He pleaded "And now I'm talking about you." "You are my person, what do you mean?" He asked, placing emphasis on "my" "That you're my person too. Am I being unclear?" "No, not at all. I just wanted to hear you say it." "So you tricked me?" You scoffed. "Not really." He leaned closer. "But maybe I set you up and you simply walked into my trap." "So now what? We're just going to sit here in denial over the fact that we both admitted to being each other's person?" You questioned, feeling slightly panicky and picking at your nails. Was this platonic or not? "We don't have to" he grinned. "But to be clear, I'm not talking about you being my person as in my other half, my best friend type person, even though you are that too bit this isn't it." "Are you trying to tell me that you're in love with me?" He tensed up again. Fuck it. "Then just say it, stop confusing me with your riddles and metaphors and I won't do the same. Just tell me-" His hand pressed against the back of your head as he leaned in almost all the way. He caressed the back of your head gently and your gaze dropped to his soft pink lips with the tiny freckle to the side. You leaned in close enough to brush a gentle touch before Taehyung pressed you closer for your lips to finally collide. It started off desperate yet a little shy. You pressed back, grabbing at his sides and the kiss deepened. Your heart was pounding. Never did you expect he'd just go for it and kiss you when you showed some bold courage towards him but you didn’t have a slightest regret because he tasted so good against your mouth. His plump pink lips so passionate, so needy but also so gentle and triggering an explosion in your chest. Taehyung leaned over you, making you lay down on the couch as he crawled on top and it turned into an even wilder heated make out. Your hand tangled into his hair, his hand rubbed against the side of your waist under your top. Fearing it'd be the first, last and only, you wanted every single piece of this moment you could have. Unintentional, his touch triggered a soft moan to escape your throat, which subsequently triggered a groan from Taehyung. Making a sound like that with his voice should be illegal. It did things to you, things you didn't want to confess. But the box of secret confessions was torn open within seconds as Taehyung, a heavy breathing mess suddenly pulled away from your lips and landed by your ear, exhaling deeply. "Fuck, I'm hard." He groaned and you knew the box was flying out the windows with your filthy confession floating aimlessly around for him to hear but all you managed to stutter out was a choked "huh?" "If you knew how long I've wanted you for." He whispered. "How scared I've been of being rejected because I knew it'd shatter me." The hopeless romantic you knew he was made his attendance known. "A friend?" You chuckled. "Maybe I set myself up with that one, I admit. But I was hoping you'd catch on." He chuckled, still breathless. He planted a kiss against your neck. Were you about to have sex? Would it lead to that? Did you mind? Certainly not... Taehyung pushed up slightly, looking down at you. "May I?" You nodded and he smiled widely, pressing a kiss to your lips. Shifting, he easily found his place between your thighs and grinded up against you slowly with pressure, causing both of you to exhale into a sweet needy moan. Your feelings felt scattered all over the place but this wasn't the time to pick them up. You wanted to let go, to surrender, just for this moment. Let go of everything clawing at your back, clouding the sunny skies and draining you. There is nothing more exhausting than smiling pretending everything is ok while whatever inflated issue in beast form is clawing its nails across your back and the scars sting like lemon juice was just rubbed all over you, feeling disgusting and sticky, let alone in pain and with a sore back from the held tension. He grinded again, sensually this time as the tip of his nose travelled up your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. "Mmm" he hummed softly. Your hand made its way to his nape as he settled by your neck. "I could fall asleep here." He chuckled. "Right here in your neck, it's so warm and smells so nice. It's more effective than lavender." "Are you enchanted by my odor?" He laughed his trademark bubble laugh. "I wish you knew how much fun you are." He squeezed you, rubbing up firmer to you with a desperate grunt. "Fuck I can't take it anymore." He stood on his knees, crossing his arms in front of him and grabbing the hem of his sweater, pulling it up and off, exposing his soft skin and toned chest as it fell to the floor. His hand reached for the button on his pants but before making it to the zipper his attention returned back to you with his hands sliding up under your top and pulling it up over your head. "I just want to make sure again... is it ok?" He asked, eyes big. "Yes, touch me, kiss me, do whatever you want just don’t leave the couch. At least not without me." He smirked at this, finally able to surrender to his greed. Taehyung reached for the waistline of your pants, unbuttoning, unzipping and pulling them down your hips with your underwear going off with them. His fingers softly rakes over your skin as he travelled down your legs, your hips lifted to assist him and then they were tossed onto the floor. He reached for his own zipper again but you sat up, quickly swatting his hand away and reaching for it yourself. He was on his knees between your thighs. You pulled them down, sliding your hands over his soft curved hips, revealing his tight fitted boxers with little to any space left for his hard on. You swallowed. He blushed. Relieved that Taehyung took over the lead again you lied back down as his hands gently pushed you back, slipping the bra straps off your shoulders and reaching behind you to unhook and free you from your final piece of clothing. But with this one he wasn't in a rush. He slowly tugged at the lacey fabric, revealing your chest to him as he bit his lip. "Wow." He mumbled and his patience was gone. One hand grabbed your left boob, feeling it and squeezing it softly as the other slipped into his boxer to touch himself. He whimpered, seemingly trembling as a result of his desperation and the discomfort he must be feeling in those tight pair of... he let go of your boob, quickly pulling his boxers down and himself out. You felt your core twist and ache and his boxers joined the pile of clothes on the floor. Taehyung fell forward onto all fours on top of you. Fully exposed, fully erect and a full sight to take in in the dim light in the dark. Distracted and eyes travelling all over him, his hand suddenly cupped your chin, tilting it up for you to face him. His nose graced over yours in a sweet eskimo kiss before his lips, just as gently pressed to yours. Taehyung's hand slid down your neck, your chest and down until he found himself. Your toes curled as you felt his touch where you wanted him the most in this moment, the tip of him slowly sliding up and down your slit, triggering your need even more. Taehyung let out a shaky exhale. His lips were parted and eyes staring right down at your exposed curves. He positioned himself, slowly sliding the tip in, just to feel... just to get some urgent relief... he leaned his head back and his hands landed a tight grip of your waist. He couldn't take it anymore. Slowly and carefully he began to push. Making sure by studying your every expression that he wasn't hurting you and that it felt good. A sweet whimper escaped you, causing him to grin in delight as he pushed in deeper. He was thick... the gentle stretch he caused felt amazing and you couldn't stop yourself from clenching around him, making him moan and managing to make you even wetter just by the sound. With a soft grunt he slipped in all the way. Giving you a moment to adjust to his size, he moved his hand up to caress your cheek with the back of his hand. His touch felt like magic. Like a gentle feather smoothing over your cheek, but slender and strong, with long dainty beautiful fingers. You leaned into his touch. "Does it feel ok?" He whispered. You gave a reassuring nod. He pulled his hips back and thrusted back in, not too soft and not too hard he picked up a slow but deep rhythm for his movements. Your hands felt their way up and across his back, studying every curve and where he naturally flexed as he moved. His hands were firmly holding you in place at the waist, every desperate exhale and every shaky inhale sending almost an ASMR like tingle down your spine via your ear until your name suddenly slipped his lips. Most people feel a fuzzy like feeling inside hearing their proper name be called but this... this was unlike no other time. His deep voice, following a whimper, exhaling your name like a magic spell and it fading into a shiver-causing moan. To put it simply it was the sexiest thing you've ever heard and it activated a whole new part within you that felt foreign but so so so good. Like your blood had suddenly turned into liquid gold, all happy hormones releasing in a firework spelling the world "nothing else matters" in an imaginary sky. You wrapped your arms tighter around him, moaning his name out felt liberating. And it clearly triggered an equal reaction. His cheeks were already flushed and his eyes went wide. He smirked, growing more desperate, fucking your harder and deeper, chasing release. "Please cum for me." He whispered, pleading. "Please." He didn't need to place a formal request, you were already loosing yourself. The only sound echoing in the darkness being the roaring wind and rain along with your breaths and groans and the sound of his hips and your thighs. Wet, heavenly sounds to you. His sweet moans, his broad back, his dick... everything about him made you feel euphoric. The ever building tension below, the sweat forming on his forehead... "I'm gonna cum" he whimpered. Thinking your body couldn't possibly react stronger to him than it already was, it did. The thrusts grew faster, grunts louder and you could feel yourself leak even more. Back arching, tension growing... it felt even tighter now... you could feel him so well, every movement until you suddenly came un-done with a loud whimper to his ear, setting him off into his own orgasm, cumming deep inside with a string of "oh"s and groans, gritting his teeth together and tensing his face in a greedy expression. He slowed down to a halt, remaining inside, breathless on top of you. The light on the sofa table had reached its end and the faint scent of smoke filled the air as the flame went out, making the room completely pitch black. Taehyung's face nuzzled softly against your neck, inhaling the scent of you deeply  and being soothed. "Wow." He coughed, followed by a groan. "Wow." You repeated, happy that the light went out so he couldn’t see your flushed face. "You ok?" He whispered, vulnerability present in his voice. "I didn't go to hard right?" "It was amazing." He let out a breath of release and an awkward chuckle. "I'll pull out.." he said shyly, moving his hips back slowly and gently, slipping out. To your surprise, Taehyung climbed off of you, standing on his feet. The cold air made your nipples ache and your skin shiver. You wanted your human blanket and source of heat back. But you didn’t have to wait for long. A pair of strong arms slid in under you, lifting you up with ease. "The sofa is too tiny." He carried you into your bedroom, gently putting you back down on the bed and laying down on his side next to you, pulling you close to his chest where his heart was still pounding hard. He hugged you tight, caressing the back of your head. His lips pressed against the crown of your head gently. "My good girl." He whispered, sounding almost proud. Your cheeks burned and a weird sense to cry bubbled up but you quickly swallowed it and hugged him tighter, burying your face against his chest. Never had you thought being called a good girl, specifically "Taehyung's" good girl would be able to move you to tears. But maybe it's what you needed to hear, mixed with the hormonal serotonin cocktail your body just released upon you. "You'll always have me." He nuzzled his nose in your hair. With a click the power came back on, including your pink hue nightstand lamp next to the bed. Taehyung's cheeks were deeply flushed, amplified by the flattering pink light cast over him. You giggled.   Had this really just happened? Because it felt so right. Or was it just the relief of sex? But masturbating had never made you feel this emotional before... You looked up at Taehyung's face again and he smiled softly, his hand caressing your bare back up and down. It was definitely him.

[doubleleoenergy]

vi. I Feel it Coming, The Princess and the Pogue Series

You’ve been scared of love and what it did to you. You don't have to run, I know what you've been through.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of a hurricane, passionate sex, mentions of birth control, first time, passionate sex, fingering, mentions of weed, swearing

Summary: Y/N shows up to JJ’s during the hurricane.

Words: 3095 (I’m sorry!!!)

A week had gone by since the kegger and morning-after conversation between JJ and y/n, neither wanting to mention the situation and their almost-kiss on the couch. It wasn’t awkward though, they made normal conversation and got together with the Pogues as if nothing had happened. Though, the reminder of that night continued to linger on both of their minds.

On Thursday afternoon, the Principal Interrupted their last class of the day with a broadcast over the loudspeaker. He announced that Kildare County High School would be closed the following day in preparation of Hurricane Nora, which would be making landfall later that evening. Of course, everyone in the Outer Banks was prepared; it wasn’t their first hurricane.

Y/N, however, was quite nervous. She had never been through a hurricane, had barely been through any major storms while living in Montana. As the bell rang to dismiss Kildare County students for the day, y/n packed up her bag and headed out towards John B’s van.

Ever since she had joined the Pogues, John B had offered her a ride home from school. Y/N had protested at first, but given how close she lived to the school, she didn’t have any reason not to. Most of the time she didn’t even head straight home; they frequently went fishing, to the beach, to John B’s Château, and to The Wreck.

JJ was waiting against the opening of the van, hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts and a smile playing on his lips as y/n approached. “Ready to ride out the storm, Princess?” He teased, ushering her into the backseat of the van before hopping in after her.

Y/N chewed nervously on her bottom lip, picking at her cuticles absentmindedly. “I’ll be fine.”

Kiara leaned back against the seat beside her, outstretching her arm comfortingly around y/n’s shoulders. “Didn’t you say that Bailey was out of town? You’re more than welcome to stay at our place tonight and throughout the storm.” 

She forgot she had mentioned to the Pogues that her sister was out of town for the week; she was attending a Nursing Conference in Virginia with a few of her colleagues. Y/N usually hated being home alone, but she had spent most of her evenings with the Pogues, being dropped off late at night and heading straight to sleep. Their home was prepped and ready for the storm, and she honestly wasn’t trying to let her nerves get the best of her.

“You’re welcome to stay at Sarah’s Aunt and Uncle’s place with Sarah and I. Or you can stay at the Château with JJ.” John B added, winking over at JJ who gave him a middle-fingered salute in return.

“Again, I’ll be fine. Thank you all for the offers though.” Y/N watched as John B turned the keys in the ignition, descending the van down the road towards her home. “I’ll probably just have a self-care night.”

“Oh yeah, what does that entail?” Pope asked, turning his head towards her.

“Well, when I have a self-care night, I usually put on a face mask, take a nice relaxing bubble bath, and then follow it up with an at-home concert with all of my favorite music, starring yours truly.” The gang all laughed, and Sarah shifted in the passenger seat, turning to look back at y/n.

“I love that, I usually paint my nails and watch some shitty reality shows.” Sarah commented and Kiara nodded her head in agreement. “I like to journal and then pig out on snacks while watching a mind-blowing documentary.”

“I may need to add a little bit of both of your routines tonight. I’ll be fine, though. I promise.” Y/N watched as John B pulled into her driveway, waiting until JJ opened the van door and hopped out, holding his hand out for y/n to grab onto as she exited.

“Well, if you need me, you’ve got my number. I’ll probably just be getting high in the Château.” JJ shrugged his shoulders at her, watching as she walked up the path towards her front porch.

“I’m sure you’ll have fun with that.” She replied, rolling her eyes at him before waving at the rest of the Pogues still in the van.

“I mean it, princess. I’m just a text away.” JJ smiled at her, giving her a brief salute before jumping back into the van and shutting the door.

Y/N sighed, opening the door to her house and stepping in, locking the door behind her. She tossed her backpack on the couch and kicked off her shoes, heading upstairs to her bathroom and starting the bath.

She’d be fine, it wasn’t even raining yet. There was nothing to worry about. Though as much as she’d hate to admit it, she slightly wished she was headed to the Château, wondering if she and JJ would actually talk about the other day if they were alone.

Four hours later and y/n was eating her words. The first hour at home had gone smooth; she had on a face mask while she lounged in a bubble bath, drinking one of Bailey’s beers from the fridge and watching the latest episode of All American.

The second hour was when the rain started, a drizzle quickly increasing by the third hour. By the fourth hour, the lights had flickered at least twice, and the wind had picked up momentum, the tree branch outside her window scraping against the screen.

She tried to remain calm, but it was much harder than she had anticipated. The saving grace of her anxious thoughts was the chime of a new message on her phone.

JJ: Is the Princess still holding up alright?

Y/N: I was until the wind picked up. And the lights flickered twice.

JJ: The offer still stands. I can ask John B to come to get you before it gets worse.

Y/N: I’ll be fine, JJ.

Another hour passed, y/n’s anxiety heightening with every crack of thunder and every scrape of the branch against her window. She tried to calm herself down with music, to meditate, to do anything, but the last straw was when the lights flickered off and did not return on. The house was eerily silent without power, the sounds of the storm that much louder in her ears.

She glanced at her phone, attempting to call JJ for that ride after all but she had no signal, the power going out must’ve included the cellphone towers.

Y/N took one look outside her window, barely able to see anything with how dark it was and leaped off her bed. “Fuck it.” If she stayed in the house it would be much worse than trying to make it over to The Château. If she hurried, she’d probably make it there before the storm got any worse. She quickly pulled her hair up into a high ponytail, slipping on a pair of black denim shorts and a ribbed yellow tank top. Y/N slipped on her running shoes, a pair she had used often during her track days, running down the stairs with her phone light shining to lead the way.

She went into the kitchen, opening the drawers until she found a thick black flashlight, leaving her phone on the counter. Not like she could use it with the towers down anyhow. Y/N carefully opened the front door, shielded from the rain under the roof of the porch as she locked the door and snuck the key under the potted plant for safekeeping.

Turning around, she switched the flashlight on and peered into the storm, the rain pounding down loudly on the street. “Here goes nothing.” She mumbled to herself before sprinting off the porch and down the pathway to the sidewalk, careful not to slip on the wet pavement. Y/N knew the path to The Château by heart after the sheer number of times John B had picked her up from her place before heading there. It usually took them fifteen minutes in the van, and she pleaded with the sky that it wouldn’t take that long.

She was already soaked down to her underwear by the first mile of her run, her breathing heavy but her stamina still high as she powered through. She only had five miles to go, she was used to long runs like that, but not in that type of weather.

Another rumble of thunder cracked against the sky, causing her to pick up her pace, especially with the first strike of lightning in the distance. What if JJ wasn’t even at The Château? What if he left after his offer and went to stay with John B and Sarah? There was no way she could make it that far on foot.

Her legs were burning as she neared the fourth of six miles, cursing herself for being stupid enough to even attempt this during a hurricane. Maybe it was her newfound fearlessness she had from hanging out with the Pogues that fueled her, or maybe she was bat shit crazy.

By the fifth mile, she had slipped twice on the road, her left knee scraped and her right arm as well. The water washed any dirt off as she picked herself up and kept running, her lungs burning in her chest. Her legs started to give out as she saw the familiar stop sign at the end of John B’s road, her body shivering from the cold, wet clothes that hung to her body. 

Y/N slowed her pace to a walk as she neared the screened-in porch, walking inside it, finally shielded from the storm, and banging loudly on the front door of the Château.

JJ was startled from the noise against the door, the lights of y/n’s flashlight shining in the window, causing him to hold his hand up to block the rays. He slowly walked towards the door, grabbing an empty beer bottle off the coffee table, ready to use it as a weapon if he needed it for the intruder.

He crept closer to the door, his eyes blinking into the darkness until the flashlight flashed against y/n’s face, outlining her features under her wet locks. 

“What the fuck?” JJ cried out, fumbling with the lock in the dark before opening the door and ushering y/n inside. “What the fuck are you doing? Did you fucking walk here during a hurricane?” He flipped on the emergency battery-powered lantern on the coffee table, illuminating the room as he stared at her soaking wet body.

“I t-tried to c-call.” Her teeth chattered as she talked, JJ pulling the throw blanket off the couch and wrapping it around her body.

“Dammit, y/n, you’re gonna get sick from the cold! And you could’ve been struck by lightning, or your body could’ve given out and…” JJ stopped when she put a wet hand on his cheek, her body shivering beneath the throw blanket.

“I-I’m a t-track s-star…s-six miles is n-nothing.” She joked, attempting a smile through her chattering teeth. JJ motioned for her to follow him, grabbing the lantern off the table and carrying it to his bedroom, setting it down on his dresser.

“Let me get you something to change into,” JJ announced, rummaging through his drawers to find some clean clothes for her to wear. He turned around and set the clothes on the bed, gesturing towards them. 

Y/N paused, dropping the now damp blanket to the floor, watching JJ turn around to give her privacy. One by one she pulled a soaked article of clothing off until she stood naked, her skin drying as her body was freed from the wet fabric.

Her shivering stopped, her heart racing as she looked at JJ’s taut muscles through his cutoff shirt in the light of the lantern.

“Are you dressed?” JJ questioned, his back still turned. 

“No…” She muttered, her voice a few octaves above a whisper.

“Is it the clothes? I can get you something else to put on.” JJ started for the dresser, y/n’s hand moving out to grab his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“JJ look at me.” She demanded, tugging his wrist towards her before he finally turned, his eyes on the floor before they slowly followed the curves of her body, lingering on her bare chest before meeting her gaze.

“Y/N…” He whispered, his blue hues moving from her eyes to her lips and back, taking a step closer to her. She still had her grip on his wrist, her fingers moving to trail up his arm, causing him to shiver in response.

“I ran here in a fucking hurricane so that I wasn’t alone, so that I could be here…with you…” She stepped closer, their faces inches away from each other, JJ’s own face tilted down to close the gap. He can feel her breath hot against his face as he hesitates before bringing a hand up to cup her cheek, leaning down and pressing his lips against hers.

Y/N kisses back, her hand moving up to grip at the hair at the nape of his neck, attempting to pull him closer. Their lips danced along each other’s, JJ’s tongue darting out and instructing her to part her lips. She let his tongue explore her mouth, her body leaning forward to press against his chest.

He broke away from her mouth, trailing damp kisses down her jaw and along her neck, leading their bodies back until they both tumbled back against the bed, a breathy laugh leaving her lips. He broke away from the kisses against her collarbone to look at her naked form in the light of the lantern. His fingers trailed from her cheek down to her chest, rubbing her nipple between his fingers, eliciting a breathy moan from her lips.

“Such a beautiful Princess.” He whispered, causing y/n to roll her eyes.

“Shut the fuck up and take your clothes off.” He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips, stumbling to his feet and pulling the cutoff shirt from his frame, stepping out of his shorts and his boxer briefs. His cock sprang free against his chest, y/n’s thighs clenching together as she admired his size. 

“JJ…” She pleaded, her eyes raking over his toned chest and then back to his blue irises.

He walked back over to the bed, moving so that his body was hovering over her own, their eyes locking once again.

“What do you need?” He questioned, a devilish smile spreading across his face.

“You.” She moaned, bucking her hips up towards him, her hands pulling his face down to hers. “I just want you.” Their lips slotted together again, more passionate than before, JJ’s knees moving to part her thighs and settle himself between them for support.

Once he was stable, he moved to kiss down her body, starting with her collarbone before trailing his lips between her breasts, causing y/n to moan. His cock rubbed against her folds, due to how tall he in comparison to her, humming against her skin with delight. JJ’s tongue flicked against her nipple, his free hand snaking between their bodies, his fingers teasing against her slit before dipping his index and middle finger into her wet heat.

“Shit.” She whined, JJ smirking against her breast as he continued to suckle on it, his fingers pumping in and out of her tight cunt. Y/N’s fingers threaded into his hair, tugging on his blonde locks and arching her back against his mouth.

His fingers continued to work in and out of her core, picking up the pace until y/n tugged his hair hard enough to make him look at her.

“Quit fucking teasing me JJ, I need you, now.” She purred, his gaze moving up to meet hers again. He shifted so her legs were further apart, settling his cock at her entrance, his arm hovering above her head for support.

“Shouldn’t I grab a condom?” He questioned, thinking of where in the house there might be some hiding. He knew John B definitely had some, he’d just need to rummage through his drawers to find them.

“I’ve been on the pill since I was fourteen, it’s fine. Please just…” She grabbed his face with her hands, staring into his eyes. “Please fuck me, JJ.”

He lined the tip of his cock up and pushed into her cunt, both moaning simultaneously. He seated himself fully inside of her, letting her adjust to the length before he pulled almost completely out. His eyes stayed locked on hers, slamming his cock back in and moving at a steady rhythm in and out of her.

She rested her forehead against his, mewling at each thrust, her nails digging into his back as he moved. They couldn’t even hear the storm anymore, the only sounds being their breathing, moans, and the occasional slapping of skin.

JJ started to feel the familiar pooling in his stomach, his hips slapping faster. “Fuck, y/n. I’m not gonna last much longer, 'm sorry.”

Y/N pressed her lips to his feverishly, whispering against them. “Fucking cum, JJ.” JJ thrusted in and out of her cunt a few more times before steadying himself deep inside her as he came. She felt his cum coating her walls, JJ waiting until his cock wasn’t as sensitive before pulling out, moving to lay on his back beside her.

“Did you cum?” He questioned, tilting his head to look over at her. 

“No, but it’s okay. I’ve never, well…” She huffed, covering her face. “Shit don’t make fun of me but that was my first time. I mean, I’ve given head before and I’ve had guys go down on me but I’ve never…y’know.” 

JJ smiled big, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her body closer to his. “So, I deflowered the Princess?” He let out a groan as she smacked his bare chest, furrowing his brows. “What the fuck?”

“It’s not funny, JJ. I really fucking like you, okay? And I know that scares you, but I don’t care. You deserve the world, and you make me feel safe and…” Y/N is cut off when JJ presses a kiss to her lips, his thumb rubbing softly on her cheek.

“I like you too. But don’t tell anyone I got mushy and shit with you.” He whispered, pulling her closer until her head rested on his chest, his arms wrapping around her. The sound of the storm outside didn’t scare her anymore, her eyes fluttering closed and her breathing relaxed.

“And don’t you fucking dare run through a damn hurricane again.”

Tagging those who may be interested. Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged/untagged: @midnightf​, @serendipityrogers​, @fuckandfluff​, @eireduchess​, @calisamcro​, @moniamaybank​, @astrydis​, @sokovianheadtilt​, @blackwiddows​, @matbarzalschain​, @bigassnocash​, @sspidermanss​

[fukurodaze]

you!

pairing: miya atsumu x fem!reader genre: fluff, an atsumu and reader meet cute!! word count: 2.1k warnings: light cursing synopsis: atsumu may or may not have developed a tiny crush on karasuno’s substitute manager.

requested by anon <3 aah i’m so sorry i kind of changed the plot slightly :))

special thanks to maddie @prettysetterakaashi​ for the beta <3

LISTEN TO: all about you - nct u

the first time you meet miya atsumu, he is seventeen, wearing his number seven jersey, and so ready to whoop your team’s (and, really, anyone else’s) ass.

the arena is much bigger than you had dreamed - much like the ones you’d seen on television - like the sendai gymnasium, but multiply it by four. it’s loud, overwhelming, and teeming of air-tight pressure. you swear you could almost hear it: the wavering heartbeats, the rolling cameras, the competitive atmosphere.

maybe you had overdressed just a little bit. turned your tracksuit into a stylish oversized-padded-jacket-baggy-pants-tight-shirt situation. (you absolutely blushed when kiyoko said you were pretty today.)

out of the crowd of volleyball players gathered before the opening ceremony, you spot a faux blonde tuft of hair and a loud voice accompanying it. he nags at one of his teammates as he stuffs his coat in his bag. 

broad back. sloped shoulders. the number seven.

“say, is that inarizaki’s setter you talked about from camp?” slightly motioning to the side, you ask your fellow first-year, kageyama tobio.

kageyama nods sharply, “yes. why?”

“yachi told me that if we win the first match, we’ll be up against them. i heard they were runner ups for the last interhigh,” you mutter, “whew, scary.”

and extremely handsome, you want to say.

there’s a pause, and you continue, “i mean, not that we’re guaranteed to win the first match anyways. it’s nationals...”

kageyama shrugs at your statement, “it’s nationals.”

you remember yachi had told you to have faith in the boys. 

so when you heard the whistle on game point announcing karasuno’s victory on the first round, you couldn’t help but mumble an ‘i knew it’ under your breath by the bleachers.

but as you cheered, yellow water bottles in hand, voice an octave higher, you swore you felt a pair of eyes that ogled at you from the second floor. 

your senses were correct - miya atsumu was wondering what kind of volleyball team had someone as cute as you in all of japan. 

“eyes on their plays, not the managers.” miya osamu’s hand lands square on his twin’s back, earning a surprise yelp in response.

“they’re not even playing anymore! they just won!” atsumu gestures dramatically, but he keeps looking your way. 

“well ya better keep yer eyes on the ball tomorrow-”

“-and YOU need ‘ta jump higher for our new quicks.”

osamu sighs, and as they hear their coach calling them down, the two leave the second floor balcony in rare silence. he figures his brother might have developed a little crush on karasuno’s substitute manager. it was always common for his brother to develop some kind of attraction to someone from somewhere far, yet the way atsumu’s staring so intently has him thinking he might actually want to do something about you. 

“you’re weird,” osamu snickers.

atsumu furrows his brows in joking offence. “-isn’t that, like, rude?”

atsumu wasn’t, isn’t, and will never be the kind of guy who loses sight of the ball. ever. 

he reckons his peripheral vision has widened for this match and this match only, seeing as he feels an extra pair of eyes on him.

for some reason, he feels the need to play around a bit more today.

his sets vary even more in tempo, he’s spiked more than usual, and he can’t stop moving. it doesn’t help either that inarizaki’s ten-point lead in the second set only fuels his playtime. anything to rack up some more points.

although he’s stuck with jump floaters, he thinks flipping off karasuno’s super libero is almost enough to make up for his lack of jump serves, so he savours every time he’s in the back right, ready to serve. 

he doesn’t mind the gasps that come out of your mouth when he lands a service ace, either.

and as the set point goes to inarizaki with a lead that just seemed so right, atsumu promises himself to come up to you once inarizaki wins. 

he knows he’s going to win. 

his shoes feel light on the rubber floor, like he could squat down and bend back and jump up all he wants. his muscles are working hard, and his senses are on point. 

when he looks around, seeing the teammates he knows can catch his sets and karasuno preparing their defense, his eyes instead flutter to you, in the corner on the benches, holding desperately onto two yellow water bottles. you’re wearing a normal tracksuit this time, but he still thinks it’s cute. 

he tries not to think of you between rallies. not about how he’d like to see you cheer for him when he crushes your team. not about how he’s found the perfect dinner spot near the gymnasium to take you out to after the win. not about the satisfaction he’ll feel after seeing little tobio’s defeat and your hand in his. (assuming that a first date involves holding hands - atsumu’s never been on one.)

so, with only the third set left to win, atsumu doesn’t bother asking what could go wrong. because he knows to make sure that nothing, nothing at all, will result in a loss for inarizaki. 

oh, how he was wrong. 

when karasuno’s frustratingly good first year duo blocks his ball and sends it plummeting to the edge of the court, atsumu knows that the whistle that follows means that this might even be the last time he sees you this year - and what if you’re not at nationals next year?

the sting of losing comes first as the usual shaking hands and lining up to bow commences after the game, and as he says some last words to his teammates and school, he catches sight of you hugging the team’s other beautiful manager. you have tears of joy threatening to fall out of the corners of your eyes, and he admits you look precious with the edges of your mouth upturned and your cheekbones raised in a victorious smile. 

he wants to see you like this with him. although he doesn’t know you at all, he doesn’t want to miss you; yet he can’t pinpoint why.

so after calling to hinata and telling him he’ll “set for him someday” (it was half-spite and half-promise, but it came out as a threat), atsumu’s gaze fixes on the back of the other side of the court at the benches where you are. 

“‘tsumu, let’s go,” osamu calls back at him, and it brings him back to reality.

except reality’s a loss where he doesn’t get to see you in his life ever again. and though he’ll accept the outcome of a national-level volleyball match, he knows he can do something to at least catch up with you - he’s still got a few days in tokyo, after all.

“ah screw it!” atsumu mumbles to himself, and begins to suck up his pride. what he’s about to do will be either extremely embarrassing or extremely endearing, he thinks.

he walks up to the karasuno bench where you’re at the side, packing up the water bottles in a duffle bag to carry. you’re squatting down, unseeing of him, until there are a few footsteps and the feeling of a person behind you. you turn around, and it makes you stand up quickly.

you look at the setter, bleached hair untoned and face oddly satisfying to look at. you had paid a little too much attention to him during the opening ceremony, and though you had suppressed the knowledge of his ogling at you from yesterday, you can’t help but feel your attraction to the setter worsen with him right in front of you.

“you. meet me at the entrance,” atsumu invites, and though his face is obviously burning red, something about his words make your heart pump a little too fast.

it doesn’t take much contemplation to figure out your answer is yes. yet, somehow, saying yes while your heart suddenly changes its pace takes a little bit more time than you thought.

you’re about to reply when you see osamu call his brother loudly, making atsumu’s eyes go wide in embarrassment. you stifle a laugh, and you give him a subtle nod, though judging by the way he runs like he’s chasing an out-of-bounds ball, you reckon he might not have seen you. 

again, you’re correct - atsumu thinks he’s just witnessed his own death, running fast at one of his only attempts at ever asking someone out. 

how does one ask someone out? is it, like, ‘hey, wanna go on a date’? or is it, like, ‘hey i like you and i think you’re pretty and i tried to find you on instagram but i don’t know your name’? he agrees with himself that it’s safer to say the former.

atsumu is pulled back to his team, embarrassment seeping through his senses from his asking out on top of that familiar sting of losing. he changes into his sweatpants and jacket in silence, backpack worn tightly around his shoulders as the rest of the team walks through the venue.

“'samu, have you ever been turned down by a girl?” atsumu tries his best not to sound like he’s sulking (he is).

osamu hums, “what did you do to karasuno’s manager?”

“ugh, not telling.”

meanwhile, burning excitement and far-fetched fantasies finally hit you. 

your heart now beats fast - maybe not as fast as when karasuno had anticipated atsumu’s serve, but still fast - and you’re not sure what kinds of chances you’ll get in the future. 

there is an internal debate: there’s no denying the mutual attraction, so why stop? you want to tell yourself that nationals is for volleyball and for you to fill in for your friend yachi, but his words repeat themselves in your head, and it’s only mere seconds that pass before you know exactly what to do.

you come up to kiyoko, and she replies with a kind hum. you ask, “can i go... uh, buy some souvenirs real quick? i’ll bring this bag with the water bottles with me.”

she looks around first, “ah, how long will you be gone?”

“not long.”

“well, the boys are going to change, so, alright. don’t get lost, okay?”

“okay!” your feet bring you out of the court area, and into the maze of the gymnasium. (you have no idea where you’re going.)

it makes you think; is this all worth it for the stranger miya atsumu? maybe. maybe not. but you’ve gotten the chance - might as well take it. 

there are things you whisper to yourself as you run around the foyer, unsure of which entrance he’d be most likely to meet you in, so you end up running to all of them. there are around five entrances total.

“this is so stupid,” is one of the things you whisper to yourself.

“he’s not even that cute,” is another.

“why couldn’t he just ask me out normally?” a sigh at the second entrance.

“ugh, but he’s... so good at volleyball,” a remark at the third entrance.

and finally, at the fifth entrance all the way at the back, “you!” 

that is when you spot that familiar tuft of untoned bleached hair, swept to the left, his maroon club jacket replacing his jersey. you hope you’re not seeing a mirage, seeing as he hadn’t looked back when you first exclaimed of your presence. 

your voice is louder and more embarrassing than his, “miya atsumu!”

now he looks. 

now he turns red.

you see his brother osamu with some kind of amused grin as you grab onto the setter’s club jacket, dragging him somewhere. you mumble an ‘excuse me’ to his brother, and he surprisingly nods.

when you drag atsumu into a secluded corner still inside the venue, his face is bright red like you remember it. you let go of his arm, and it makes you cringe to see how you had literally just pulled japan’s number one high school setter by his sleeve.

“what was that?” atsumu fixes his bag. he tries to hide his incoming grin.

“you- you told me to meet you at the entrance,” you fumble with the ends of your jacket, “so i did.”

“huh,” atsumu mutters, matter-of-factly. he sounds amused. he looks at you with a smile. “i’m glad.”

there’s a silence as he offers to carry your bag. you let him.

“i know this place near this venue, do you- do you want to go there sometime?”

your ears perk up - it’s exactly what you want to hear. now, there is no contemplation.

you inhale. “yeah. i would like that.”

atsumu takes a deep breath, and he smiles like a happy child. you tell him your full name, and he tells you his, even though he knows you already know it.

it turns out, the first time you really meet miya atsumu, he is seventeen, wearing his dishevelled maroon club jacket, and so not ready to miss you.

and thank god; he was definitely going to see you again.

[konigsfaerie]

Compass

Chapter One

Summary: Falling in love with two people isn't normal, but after fighting your way out of the TVA, you can't help but develop feelings for both Loki and Mobius. Hiding your emotions has never been your strong suit, and your resolve has been fading with each passing day you spend together at the compound.

Word count: 4,630

Loki looked across the common room to find Mobius rifling through papers, undoubtedly studying another timeline that would need to be fixed. Loki watched his hands turn the crisp pages, watched his index finger travel down to find a specific word.

He decided to break his gaze and clear his throat, shaking himself out of his daze. “Don’t you think we should take a break? We’ve been at this all day.”

Mobius looked up from the folder and raised a single eyebrow. “You mean I have been at this all day. You’ve been sitting there looking pretty while I have been isolating timelines we need to fix without so much as a lunch break.”

If not for his Frost Giant heritage, the blush on his face would be unmistakable. Suddenly words left him, so he decided to stare out of a window, his dark thoughts immediately returning.

He left who he used to be back in New York. The jealous god, the god who was angry at everything and couldn’t love anything simply out of fear. It seemed that all of the sudden there was too much love in his heart, the kind that made him feel the most guilty he had been in a long while.

Loki, Mobius, and you fighting through the TVA was no small feat, and even now there was no time to rest.

“Although I suppose we should check on y/n. She’s been cooped up in her office all day,” Mobius observed, pushing away from the desk and stretching his arms up. Loki noticed his torso as he stretched, the fabric revealing the slight V of his waist. There was that nonexistent blush again, the panging he felt in his chest.

“I’ll get her some food from the kitchen.” As Loki left for the kitchen, it was now your features that plagued his mind. Your soft skin, supple thighs, full cheeks, y/e/c. How could this be possible, to love two people at the same time? Just years before he would have destroyed an entire planet without thinking, and now every action he made, he’d run it over in his head before doing so just to make sure he didn’t say something wrong that could hurt yours or Mobius’ feelings. Although Mobius wasn’t exactly the most sensitive of the bunch, Loki cringed when he thought of all the terrible things he said to both you and Mobius when he first arrived at the TVA.

There were cooks of course, The Avengers Tower was huge with so many people coming in and out, but he wanted to make you food by his hand.

-

Your feelings for Mobius and Loki were… complicated at best. The passion you felt for Loki made your head dizzy, but the tender love you felt for Mobius made your heart ache. You ran a hand down your face, the guilt gathering up in the pit of your stomach again. How was this even possible? You loved them both, and while they probably didn’t even have a clue, you couldn’t imagine letting either one of them go. And if you lost both of them...

You heard a knock at your door, and you tried steeling your face into indifference again, but ultimately failed. “Come in!” Instead of indifference, you tried to look as happy as can be, providing a smile as bright as the stars.

As soon as you saw both of them come in at the same time, your face immediately fell. You tried to look away from their faces, your eyes pointing downward, pretending to do something you were working on before you were about to have a breakdown. You couldn’t actually be in control of your emotions when Mobius started acting all gentle and kind and Loki started a war of who could use the most sarcasm in one sentence. (Hint: He always won.)

“Is there something the two of you needed?”

Loki sat down in the chair in front of your desk, placing a covered dish in front of you, planting his feet on your desk, which he knew you absolutely hated.

“We can’t visit our favorite girl unannounced?” Mobius spoke, giving that little grin of his.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Favorite girl. Were you really… their favorite girl?

His excited smile faded. “Unless you’re busy… I don’t want to interrupt you.”

You slid a hand to Loki’s boots, roughly slapping his feet off the table and uncovering the dish. “No, I- Well, I guess I haven’t eaten all day.” Part of your job to create a new task force of Avengers to fix the timelines destroyed accompanied by Doctor Stephen Strange. He usually was in your office with you going over the candidates you thought would make a good addition to the team, but he was currently out convincing them to come back to the compound.

“Sorry. I should’ve brought food up to you a long time ago.”

Loki eyed you as you took your first bite into what had to be your favorite meal of all time. You started to shake your head at his comments, but instead you closed your eyes for a moment, letting a moan sneak past your lips. “This is so good! It tastes much better than what the cooks usually make for us. Who made this?” Usually it was all leafy green salads and juice the color of baby puke (doctor’s orders, and by doctor, you mean an overprotective philanthropist), but thank the gods, it was something actually cooked in oil.

“Loki cooked it for you,” Mobius said with a teasing smirk, but then his lips went into a pout. “While I eat this salad for the twentieth night in a row.”

A blush crept up on your nose and you giggled. “Guess I’m just that special.”

“Yes,” Loki remarked. “You are.” His eyes burned into your own.

The blush deepened into a shade of ruby red. Loki was always one for bluntness and didn’t always understand how humans communicated with each other. Yes, that was all it was. Just him reminding you how much he cared for you as a friend. The sentiment was new to him, after all.

You filled your face with more food, your eyes staring down so that you didn’t have to meet either of their pair of eyes. After finishing your food, you heard a bottle of alcohol thud on your desk. You laughed and gave a little shake of your head. “Don’t you know that the use of alcohol or other substances will hinder our training?” You mocked Tony, his strictness fueled by FRIDAY.

“Well,” Loki laughed. “I am not in training,” he continued, popping the cork off with his mouth. “Because I am already amazing.” He put the bottle to his lips and took two long swigs.

Both you and Mobius groaned, Mobius grabbing the neck of the bottle from him and doing the same. As he passed it to you, you thought that maybe this was a bad idea. You never really got too drunk unless you were “reveling” with Thor, but you were constantly afraid your feelings might slip out. One wrong look, and they might figure it out.

Mobius passed it to you, and you downed four long gulps. Maybe the alcohol would make you momentarily forget your feelings instead of bringing them to the surface. Immediately your head felt lighter as you passed it back to Loki, but instead of the smiles that were there before, two worried glances were presented on their faces.

Loki put the bottle down. “What’s wrong?” The concerned look on both of their faces made your heart thud in your chest. They really, actually cared about you. About what you thought, what you felt, if you ate, if there was too much on your plate. That was more than just being friends, right? When you were with them, you felt different. Lighter, safe, like nothing could really hurt you as long as you three were together.

“Nothing,” you defended, taking another bite of your food as the buzz you had started to ebb and flow. Trying to keep the tears springing from your eyes was no small task, but you couldn’t do this now, in front of them. You hated lying to them and you didn’t even know what excuse you could possibly make if tears started running down your cheeks.

But the truth was that you cried often. Late at night after hours of exhausting work, not only isolating timelines but trying to convince people with abilities to help your cause, usually wielding little to no results. After all that tiresome work, it wasn’t the universe or your collective impending doom you thought about; it was Mobius and Loki. How they take care of you, how it might feel to have Mobius’ lips on yours while Loki wraps his arms around you from behind and kisses your neck...

How long have you been looking at your empty plate without saying anything?

“Y/n? Sweetheart?” Mobius started, reaching for your hand across the desk which made Loki look at the pair of yours. Why did he call you that so often? Ever since coming to the TVA, even when it looked like he wanted to scream at Loki until he was hoarse, even when you joined forces with Loki and he couldn’t understand why in the world you would, he wanted to protect you. Both of them did.

It felt like your heart was just continually skipping beats. It was absolutely insane that one word was the thing that was finally going to undo you.

Sweetheart.

Our favorite girl.

Your eyes went back and forth between the two of their faces, your lip starting to wobble. Loki immediately got up from his chair in front of you, moving towards you and crouching down to your eye level. “What is it? What’s the matter, y/n?” His concerned blue eyes searched yours, his eyebrows knitting together in worry.

Mobius was hovering over you at your desk with that same look, waiting for your response.

There were lies you could tell, of course. I’m just tired. I miss my family. I want to piece this god-forsaken universe back together already. It was all true of course, but the real reason you lay awake at night with tears streaming down your face was because you were in love with the both of them and if you did anything about it, you’d lose them. And your heart could absolutely not handle that. They were everything to you.

You could only imagine it, which you did often. Their confused looks which would make you feel like the weirdest person on the planet, the neverending silence as they only talked to you about work. How could you possibly handle them not barging in on your space every night, not making you feel like the luckiest girl on the planet just to have friends like these?

Nevertheless, the tears came and the sobs started racking your body as they both came to your rescue, enveloping you in their arms, which only made you cry harder.

“Y/n-” Mobius started, but was cut short because of… that look you were giving him. The one that said everything, the one that also traveled to Loki. It was unmistakable. With them, you were an open book and your face were the words on the page.

Loki pulled away, but only to put a hand on your waist. Was he… giving you the same look? When you looked back over to Mobius, his hand was at your waist as well, his hand flying up to dry your tears. “Sweetheart,” he breathed.

As soon as your eyes fluttered, Mobius’ mouth was on yours, giving you the most tender kiss you had ever felt. His lips slightly pulled away as Loki’s finger hooked under your chin and his lips flew to yours. Back and forth you played this little game until your knees were threatening to buckle underneath your feet, both of them slightly rubbing your waist.

As you pulled back slightly, their lips finally pressed against each other. The kiss between them was more rough but just as loving.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. No, there was no way they felt the same things you did. Ever since spending time with the both of them in the TVA, the thoughts that plagued your mind were perhaps the darkest you ever felt. Not just because you knew without a shadow of a doubt whatever conclusion you came to you would get hurt, but because you might hurt them in any way. The love you felt for them didn’t seem natural, but it definitely felt it. But this…. They felt it too? Not only that, but they felt things for each other as well? For how long?

Suddenly you didn’t want to be cooped up in this office anymore so you grabbed both of their hands, locking their fingers with yours and started moving to the stairs that led to your room. As soon as you closed the door, Mobius was pushing you against it while Loki ran a finger down the length of your arm.

You didn’t need to say anything for now. Your faces said so much. Words might be necessary later, but now…

Loki nudged him over while his lips explored yours again and Mobius kissed your neck. A moan escaped your lips again, but this one wasn’t because of the pleasure of food, rather the pleasure of the two men controlling your every movement. Mobius’ hands were still pinning you to the door, and you couldn’t help it as your waist moved against Loki’s.

“Please,” you breathed. “I n-need-” God, it was hard for you to talk with Loki’s lips hovering over yours, the heat rising in you as you imagined all the marks Mobius was making on your neck, claiming you as his.

“What do you need, darling?” Loki whispered, moving to the other side of your neck. Mobius shoved his leg in between yours, your hips making quick work of him.

Apparently that was all the answer they needed. Mobius grabbed your waist, moving you to your bed as they both joined you and started on your neck again while Loki began slowly untying your top, testing to see if you were comfortable.

Usually you were shy around them, but you had enough of just fantasizing about them doing this. You would be perfectly happy if they decided to rip your clothes off and spread your legs.

“I’m tired of waiting,” Mobius snapped as if reading your mind, shoving your pants down as Loki threw your top onto the floor. They both beheld you in your matching lacy white bra and panties. They looked… hungry. Like they’d both been waiting for this, only now they realized all three of you wanted it just as much.

You swallowed as they stared into each other's eyes just a moment before taking each other’s shirts off. Even though you needed them to rip off all your underthings, you were nervous. They definitely had more experience than you, and Loki was a literal god who could get whatever or whomever he wanted.

As Mobius placed his lips onto yours again, his tongue teasing your own, you could feel Loki’s hands gripping your panties, sliding them down. He took in a breath, giving himself a moment to take you in. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, just before spreading you with two of his fingers.

“Mmm, fuck,” you moaned against Mobius’ lips, moving so that Loki had perfect access. All you wanted was his tongue on you, or even his fingers filling you up.

Okay, that’s not all you wanted, but it was a start. What you really wanted wasn’t just his fingers filling you up, but either - or both of their cock’s inside of you, hitting that one spot you really loved-

“Loki!” you gasped as his mouth connected with your clit, his finger easily sliding into you. You bucked against him, biting your own lip as Mobius slid down near Loki, giving him a kiss before removing his finger and sucking on it, tasting your juices. The look in their eyes when they looked at eachother - it was sending you over the edge already.

“Look at her, Loki,” Mobius observed. “She’s already wanting to cum on your mouth. Should we let her?” Was he teasing us? You were dripping at this point, coating his mouth with your juices, gripping the covers with your fists. The look in Loki’s eyes was feral as his tongue flicked over your clit and then swirled around it. The only answer he provided was a groan of pleasure from having his tongue play with your clit. He was waiting for permission.

“Not yet,” Mobius decided, grabbing a handful of Loki’s hair, pulling him back. Loki’s face was pure disappointment, which he soothed by licking his lips, tasting you again.

Loki moved towards you, his face hovering over yours. “You taste so good,” he whispered. “Do you want to taste yourself?”

You gave a nod, staring up at him and he gave you the most passionate kiss you’ve ever felt, his tongue enveloping yours. You sucked on it, moaning against his tongue as you savored yourself.

As you sucked on his tongue, you realized you were one-hundred percent more wet than you started off, and you couldn’t help but squirm as Mobius spread your legs ever father, his finger moving slowly up and down your clit. This was fucking agonizing. You didn’t want to be teased, you wanted them to take you right here on this bed.

“Good things come to those who wait, y/n.”

You stared at Mobius who was currently sliding a single finger into you excruciatingly slowly, a pleasured smile on his face, most likely because he knew how bad you wanted him, wanted the both of them to be inside of you.

“Please,” you begged as Loki started to unhook your bra, placing his mouth on your nipple. “I-I want-”

Mobius stopped pumping his finger in and out of you, joining Loki in playing with your nipples. “Yes y/n, tell me what you want and I may even give it to you.” Before you could speak, he slid his finger into your mouth which just made you buck your hips even more.

“Oh, is that what you want?” Suddenly, he grabbed Loki and started taking off the remainder of his clothes, finally sliding off his belt and undoing his pants, shoving them down with his underwear and exposing his cock. “Is this what you want? You need to be fucked?” You glanced at Mobius who was currently stroking Loki who tilted his back in pleasure. The sight was fucking angelic, and all you could do was speechlessly nod without abandon.

Loki was rock hard, probably from the moment he saw your glistening pussy. As you rose to your knees, you met his face as you pumped him with your hand, taking over from Mobius, exploring him. “Do you like that?” You wanted to edge him on. You wanted him to lose control, especially because you could see how much he was trying to contain himself. Mobius saw it too, which was part of the reason he was teasing the both of you so much. The other reason was because he wanted to see just how bad you wanted him.

No response, just another groan. You heard Mobius taking his pants off but was utterly focused on pleasuring Loki.

Suddenly you could feel Mobius’ cock against your ass, him coming behind you and feeling on your breasts. “Now tell Daddy exactly what you want.”

Fuck.

“Both of you. Inside of me.” You turned your head to look at him, biting your lip out of embarrassment.

Surprise lit his features. “Are you sure about that? I don’t want it to be too much for you… Yet.”

You nodded quickly. “I want both of you to fill me up.”

Mobius tore you away from Loki, pushing you face forward onto the bed, placing a hand on your stomach to prop your ass up. You took that as a clue to arch your back. “Good girl,” Loki remarked, moving you over momentarily to move under you. Loki started teasing you, placing his cock at your entrance.

“No, no more teasing,” you begged, letting out a little wine. “Please just… Please fuck me!”

“Isn’t she impatient, sweetie?” Mobius pondered, lubing himself up with something you didn’t recognize, then going to his fingers so he could stretch you out. From this angle, Mobius could control everything. He slid a finger into your ass which caused a moan to slip out. Honestly, this wasn’t a normal thing for you, but you had to have both of them. You didn’t want to wait or deny yourself any longer.

You bucked against his finger as he slid another one inside of you. It hurt a little, but in the best way possible. You could feel him stretching you out, taking his time, just as Loki rubbed himself against your clit. Loki’s little pants and quiet moans were only teasing you further, and even Mobius looked like he was losing his resolve to go slowly.

Words wouldn’t, or rather, couldn’t escape your mouth. You already felt so filled up with Mobius’ fingers pumping in and out of you, Loki threatening to slip inside of you. The feeling you felt was best described as… helpless. They were controlling your every move, how fast or slow you went, when or even if you would cum.

Mobius gave a look to Loki, silently giving him permission as he slowly slid his fingers out of you. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” Loki asked, his soft and wanting eyes staring up at you and pushing your hair behind your ear. “Would you like to feel me inside of you?”

“Y-Yes!” You leaned further onto him so that Mobius would have easier access to your ass and so that Loki could easily slip inside of you. His breathing turned ragged as the head of his cock teased your entrance, but you were tired of being teased. All those nights fantasizing about this, fantasizing about the looks they were giving you now. Never in a million years would you think they would want this too, but here they were, one under you and one on top, showing you how much they cared for you.

Even though Mobius wrapped his fingers around your hips, moving Loki’s legs slightly so he could have as much access to you as he needed, you slid onto Loki’s long shaft, sending shocks throughout your body. His grip tightened just as you could feel Mobius’ lubed cock slide into your ass.

Filled up is what you felt. You almost felt overwhelmed with it, but you could take it. You could take both of them as they started pumping in and out of you. You closed your eyes, almost feeling high, feeling like the universe was moving throughout your body.

Mobius couldn’t have possibly known your eyes were closed, but you felt one arm wrap around your waist as his fingers tightened in your hair. “Look at him pumping inside of you, y/n. Watch him fuck you.” His breath was ragged too as you moved between them, your hands tightening around Loki’s shoulders for purchase.

The moans coming out of you were loud, probably loud enough to wake the entire compound, but you didn’t care. They were stretching you out, filling you up entirely. You had never felt more loved than this exact moment. “Please-” you moaned. At this point, you weren’t sure what you were saying. You weren’t sure of anything, and you especially weren’t sure where you ended and Loki and Mobius began. “I don’t know if I can-” you started, pausing to look at Loki’s feral glance. You knew you were dripping with want, with need. You were wet, so wet, and so tight, and you loved the feeling of him inside of you. He was a god, and that almost all-powerful thing inside of him threatened to come out with every thrust, every new moan you made.

“What’s wrong?” Mobius asked, moving his hand from your hair to your chin, making you look at him. His eyes were almost glossed over, and he was still fighting his composure.

You shook your head, moving to buck back against him, which prompted him to move his hand back to your hair, controlling your every move, your every thrust. “I just don’t think I can-” Another shock rang throughout your body as they grew even more in sync with each other, picking up their pace. You felt totally dominated, and your mind was reeling from the fact that the two people you loved so much were fucking you into oblivion. The blush spread to your nose as you bit your lip. “I don’t think I can last long,” you moaned, rolling your head back momentarily as Mobius loosened his grip, kissing your soft lips.

Fuck, you saw stars. You were so close already, and his lips on yours didn’t help, his tongue exploring your own. His moans vibrated against your mouth as he grabbed a handful of your hair again, pushing you down to kiss Loki as he chuckled, some sadistic part of him enjoying seeing you on the edge. While you were usually so in control of everything around you, Mobius liked seeing you completely out of control, at his mercy.

Loki was close too. You could tell, because his grip was tightening even further on your waist, holding you completely in place while he slid in and out of you, his teeth gently pulling on your bottom lip. Through all three of your moans, you could hear the wet slap of his cock as he fucked you. He kept hitting that exact place you wanted him to, which made you cry out in pleasure. You were so glad they were both holding you, otherwise you didn’t think you could hold yourself up anymore.

Mobius’ hand moved from your hair to your throat, his grip tightening around you. Your eyes widened as any control you previously had completely disappeared along with your resolve to hold on. Your eyes squeezed shut for a moment as your pussy tightened around Loki’s cock, causing him to cry out in turn. Your eyes opened again, watching him shoot his cum inside of you. “Y/n!” He cried out your name as he reached for you, his hand tightening around your own.

“Fuck,” Mobius swore. Galaxies exploded inside of you as you gripped Loki’s other hand too, biting your lip as you felt Mobius shoot inside of your ass with a loud groan.

As your orgasm finally calmed, you felt the both of them slide out of you and let out an involuntary whimper. The feeling of being filled up, it was… everything. And now you felt empty. But as soon as they heard it, they came to your rescue, Loki turning over and pressing your face to his chest as Mobius laid down at your side, stroking your back and covering the three of you up.

“Better?” he whispered.

You nodded, moving your head to stare up at him, your lip wobbling a little. You felt completely exhausted, and the world felt like it was spinning around you, but as soon as you felt their arms tighten around you, you came back to Earth. He planted a small kiss on your lips, giving you a smile that made all dark thoughts completely disappear. You could see things in that smile, things that had been left unsaid.

“So much better,” you sighed.

[justcourttee]

It’s More Than Just a Game Pt 1

@qualitypeacepainter sent me this wonderful idea for a Daminette Volleyball AU. It will definitely have several parts and I am so excited to write it so I hope you enjoy and I hope it’s something like what you had in mind :)

“So this is what a tournament looks like?” Marinette inhaled deeply “Do you smell that Nino? Air Salonpas. It’s so satisfying.”

She didn’t bother waiting for his response, she knew he was only here for her sake. Nobody could match her excitement for this day. It took her weeks, but she finally scrambled together a makeshift team so that she could enter at least one volleyball tournament before her middle school days were over. They had exactly three days of practice, but it didn’t matter.

Marinette was here to win.

“There are a lot of good teams here, please don’t get your hopes up Mari.” Adrien reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder as if he were attempting to pull her back down to reality. “Nino and I only know the basics, this isn’t anything like baseball.”

“Yeah Marinette, I know you gave us all a crash course, but this is way different from basketball.”

“And soccer!”

Her teammates all shared the same discouraged look on their faces. They knew how hard Marinette trained. Every day after school, she’d set to herself, pass to herself, spike at the school wall while the basketball team practiced. She was always helping them out, so the least they could do was help her form a team, but volleyball was something none of them knew much of.

“You guys worry too much! You’re all super athletic and the best friends a girl could ask for. There is absolutely nothing that could get in our way-”

Her sentence was cut short as a yell of excitement echoed through the gym. Instantly her eyes locked on the source of the commotion. Gotham Middle had entered and the crowd’s excitement was all focused on them. The teams around them begin to whisper, passing drills stopping as everyone took the chance to size up the competition.

“-it’s the King of the Court-”

“-I thought they weren’t entering this tournament-”

“-we’re so screwed-”

It was as if the world was crashing down around her. Marinette knew all about Gotham Middle. They were always featured in Sports Weekly as the top school in the volleyball world. In fact, there was even one student who was being scouted for the US National team. The King of the Court, Damian Al Ghul Wayne.

“I-I think I need to use the bathroom.” Marinette clutched her stomach, her face paling the longer she stared.

“Are you okay?”  Nino tried to offer her a hand to steady herself but she simply waved him off, stumbling past him to the hallway, her eyes dazed.

It’s just one team. It’s not like they would have to play them first. Of course, they would have a warm-up game, something to get her team in the groove. Yeah, there was no doubt in her mind. She came here to win, not worry about some top-ranked school.

Slowly she stood up, taking a few deep breaths, the bathroom door a mere ten steps away.

“I’ve never even heard of Dupont Transfer Middle.”

“Apparently it’s some French school that sends students wanting to study in America. It’s like a prep for American high school. They spend their eighth-grade year there to perfect their English and take any courses that wouldn’t transfer over.”

Marinette glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, standing in front of the water fountain were a couple of members of Gotham Middle. The only reason they would be concerned with her school would be..no..fate wouldn’t be that cruel right?

“They barely have a six-man team, they don’t even have a libero. Did they actually think they had a chance?”

“Hey!” Three sets of eyes turned in her direction, instantly wavering her nerve. “Don’t underestimate us.”

As if on cue, her stomach lurched once more, taking any confidence she had with it. The Gotham players shared a glance before busting into laughter.

“Is she serious? I think she is.”

“Is that the captain label on her uniform? Maybe we should show her some respect.”

Instantly, they all straightened, mock saluting her before dissolving back into a fit of laughter. Marinette wanted to give them a piece of her mind, but her stomach refused to let up.

“Hey, benchwarmers. It’s time for the warm-up. Quit wasting time.”

The three silenced, their face a mixture of fear and awe. Who could command such respect? The coach? The manager? Marinette’s eyes strayed to where the voice came from, her stomach immediately dropping.

“The King,” she slapped her hand over her mouth, hoping she hadn’t said it loud enough to offend the guy in front of her. He didn’t even glance in her direction, his fierce glare completely focused on his teammates.

“Right away sir. Kasey, fill up two more.”

Damian Wayne. He couldn’t have been more 5’7”, but compared to Marinette’s 5’1”, she was in awe. It was impressive how he could command so much respect with just one look. She watched as he turned, taking a few steps toward the gym before pausing once more.

“Relax James, you act like we’ll need a lot. Just look at our opponent.”

It was as if they completely ignored his warning. Their giggles only enraged Marinette.

“What did you sa-”

“Did I stutter? Quit wasting time. You’re barely benchwarmers, quit acting as though you’re good enough to look down on your opponent.”

Marinette watched as they all paled, gathering their bottles before rushing back into the gym. None of them dared to make eye contact with him. Marinette released a chuckle of her own. He might be terrifying, but he really wasn’t a bad guy. Marinette relaxed as she stood, a friendly smile tugging at her lips.

“You know, I was just about to say something to them myself.”

His glare shifted from his retreating teammates to where she stood. Instantly she felt a shiver down her spine.

“You’re not even physically ready to sit the bench, don’t talk as if we’re on the same level. What are you even doing here anyway? Making memories? This is a tournament for people who are serious.”

“I am serious, my team is serious. We’re here to win and that means we start by defeating you.”

Damian took a step forward. Suddenly those six inches felt a lot taller than they were. Marinette fought with herself to not move away.

“You say that like it’s so easy.” The waves flowing off of him made her want to shrivel up, but her anger anchored her feet.

“I may not look like much, but I can jump. Really high. I will jump over any wall your team puts in front of me.”

He simply scoffed, only fueling her rage. Everyone always underestimates her, she hated it. She just wanted to be taken seriously in the sport she loved.

“You will simply be a stepping stone on the way to our championship.”

Before she could even respond, Damian turned his back, returning to the court, leaving her fuming in her spot. She wanted to declare war, rush him and take him out before he could even step onto the floor, but her stomach had other plans. Gripping her gut, Marinette turned to the bathroom, her face paler than before she left the gym.

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

“Dudette! You were gone for like twenty minutes. It’s our turn to use the court. How do we warm-up?”

Marinette scanned the other side of the court to where Gotham Middle stood huddled, occasionally glancing back at her teammates. All except one. Damian stood alone, his arms crossed, his eyes closed. If she didn’t know any better, she would think he was meditating.

“Let’s work on passing. It’s something we all struggle with and I think we’ll really need it with this team.”

Five minutes passed and as they lined up for the beginning of the first set, Marinette’s eyes locked onto his from across the court. She already had a fire burning when she stepped into the gym, but it was as if he threw coal at her until she was ablaze ready to annihilate anything in her path.

“We will win.”

Her teammates shared a look of skepticism, but none voiced their concerns. They didn’t have to. It had only been ten minutes, but the score was already 12 - 0. The only one drenched in sweat was Marinette. The energy for the rest had been drained after the first service ace.

“Nino! Set me up!”

They were barely keeping the ball in the air with iffy passes that they were sure the ref was only letting slide out of pity. Nino was the only one who could decently set. It was nothing compared to the flawless and quick sets the King was serving on the other side, but Marinette could care less. All she wanted, was a chance to hit the ball.

His set was shaky, the ball wobbling as it flew, threatening to fall out of the sky at any moment. But to her, it was perfect. On instinct, Marinette jumped, her palm connecting to the ball. A satisfying thud came from the other side of the court as the gym silenced, trying to process what had happened.

“Did they just score?”

“Forget that, did you see how high she just jumped? She must’ve been a foot over the net!”

The whispers got louder until a single clap echoed from the crowd leading to another and another. As her feet touched the ground once more, Marinette immediately shot Damian a smug look. His mouth hung agape, his eyes a mixture of anger, and did she catch a hint of admiration? It was even more satisfying than the sound of the ball hitting the court.

“Why didn’t you get that?”

Marinette flinched as he turned on his teammates, his face fuming.

“Dude, you were in shock too! We didn’t think they had-”

“This is why you don’t underestimate anyone, ever. You give every team 100% of your effort.”

Damian turned back to the net, his eyes narrowing in on her. It took everything in her not to crumble as she picked up the ball, tossing it to Adrien. She had a kill. Her first one in a tournament and not even the terrifying demon behind her could stomp on her moment.

“Okay, guys! Here’s our chance. Let’s turn this around.”

Her excitement spread through the court, each of her teammate’s risking a smile. Their fire may not have been as bright as hers, but it was finally starting to shine through.

“You’re right Marinette. We can’t promise anything flashy like the King over there, but we will get you the ball. No matter what it takes.”

This was the chance she was waiting for, the chance to motivate her team. Now that she had their attention, she didn’t want to waste one second of it.

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

“It was a close game Marinette. Please don’t be upset.”

Marinette waved off her friends, her smile tight.

“They won in two sets and we barely hit double digits both times, but it’s okay guys, really. Thank you so much for helping me out. I’m going to stay for a while, so go on without me. I wanna watch some more matches.”

Her friends shared a look of skepticism, but one by one they slowly stood, all leaving until she was the only one left. Marinette sighed as she stood herself, working up the courage to step back into the gym.

“I told you it was useless.”

Marinette glanced over her shoulder only to meet an annoyingly familiar face blocking the entrance.

“Don’t you have something better to do than gloat oh glorious king?”

“Tt, I only wanted to point out that your jump was impressive, but volleyball is not a sport that you can get by with athleticism alone. You set yourself up for failure.”

It was Marinette’s turn to scoff as she brushed past him, intent on not speaking another word.

“A piece of advice for you. Drop volleyball while it’s all fun and games for you. High school has no place for a foreigner with no talent.”

“I’ll beat you.” Her voice was soft but cold. Damian didn’t speak a response, but he didn’t move either as if he were taunting her to continue. Marinette turned her head until she had a full view of his scowling face. “Whether it be when fall comes and my team smoothers yours or even if it takes ten, twenty, no fifty years, I will destroy you King of the Court. All I have to do is be the last one standing, right?”

He didn’t respond, only offered her a small grunt before exiting the doors. Her eyes followed him until the bus doors closed and Gotham Middle pulled out of the parking lot.

“I will get better, just you wait Damian Wayne.” Marinette took a step forward, her eyes zeroing in on the match in front of her. High School was only three months away. Three short months to make her declaration a reality.

She smiled, the fire in her eyes stirring with a deadly glint. 

“Next time we meet, I will destroy the King of the Court.”

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