#cuz if i keep pressing on it it's just never gonna heal

[darlinqs]

did i tell yall i fractured my ankle i think i did

[dinogoofymutated]

Hey not sure if your currently taking requests but I just wanted to I soooooo stoked that you write for Remy! I've been starved for years cuz there's like no fan fics for him😭.

anyway I was wondering if you could do like a fic or headcannon where gambit somehow got hurt on a mission and is on bed rest but is also like really horny because you wont have sex with his since hes hurt.

If not that's fine I just thought it up and thought it would be hilarious 😂. Anyway luv your work, keep it up😘

NSFW!Gambit/AFAB!Reader

MMMMMHHHMMMMMM BESTIE UR MIND. ABSOLUTE GENIUS. I hope that you don't mind I did make it NSFW there at the end but the majority is just teasing our favorite gambler. Also, This is for the folks who were also really attracted to that one scene in criminal minds with the bulletproof vest. iykyk.

TWs: teasing, sexual innuendos, explicit smut, Handjobs, Mutual masturbation, PNV sex. Raw sex. (Wrap it bf you tap it yall) Creampie. Reader written with Fem! pronouns.

"Asolutetly not." You're quick to say it. Gambit pouts as the words leave your mouth, still on the infirmary bed with all the wires and doodads still hooked up to him. He's giving you those scoundrel puppy eyes that he knows you usually give in to, but you're not willing to budge this time.

"No, Remy. I will not be-" You take a quick glance around the room, leaning in a little closer as you begin to whisper-yell at him. "-I will not be having sex with you right now!" Remy sighs in a pitiful way leaning against the headboard in your direction. You can’t begin to look him in the eyes right now, instead lightly pushing his face away from your spot, sitting close to his bed on a chair that you had moved from the corner. His pout turns into an amused smile, as he instead takes your hand in his own, moving it down to press a kiss to your palm. You try not to blush at him. You’re supposed to be standing strong, dammit! 

  "Come on, Chère. S' not like it's gonna make Gambit hurt any worse-” You cut him off by lightly slapping his abdomen. Remy immediately flinches, curling in on himself with a pained groan. You feel a little guilty afterward, flattening your palm to rub the area soothingly.

    “Yes, it would. Remy, I could seriously hurt you. You heard beast, any vigorous activity could rip your stitches.” You say, moving to where you can sit on the bed, facing him. You cup the side of his face, gently moving stray locks out of the way. He rolls his eyes, not at you, but at the memory of the talking-to he got when he had woken up in the infirmary. 

    “Never stopped me before. Since I been with the X-men it’s like everythin’ become a big deal. So what if I rip a few stitches here an’ there?” Remy grumbles. You give him a stern look, before leaning in to kiss his temple. He melts into your touch.

    “It is a big deal, Remy. You need to heal. End of discussion.” You say gently. Remy thinks on it for a moment, before giving you a slight smirk. 

    “And by “end of discussion” you really mean “Until Gambit tempts me into bed”, Right?” He says. You roll your eyes at him before standing. If that’s the attitude he’s going into these next weeks with, you know for a fact he’s going to be insufferable.

    You were right. The incoming weeks were almost as much torture to you as they most definitely were to him. Wherever you went in the mansion, Gambit was sure to follow. He’d be in the kitchen while you would be cooking, unable to help due to doctor's orders, but no one ever said that he had to stay out of the kitchen. He’s come up behind you, snaking his arms around your hips as he’d “Give you pointers”. He’d lean close and whisper in your ear, sometimes giving it a nip or two. But one thing about Gambit is that every time you turned him away, or laughed at him and told him to sit down, he’d get pouty. 

    That was a trend that continued. He’d deliberately go out of his way to tease you, on movie night, in the library, in the showers even. And every time, despite how hot under the collar you might have been, you turned him away. The more bothered you seemed to be however, his pouts turned into smirks. Eventually, you got fed up with it. You were trying to be a good girlfriend and make sure Remy didn’t hurt himself, but if he was going to be a brat about it, you could be a brat too.

    You started off a little more subtly than Remy did. Lingering touches here and there, kissing him just long enough to leave him wanting. You’d wear just a tad less clothing around him, or wear slightly lower-cut tops. You were beginning to realize just how easy it was to get him riled up.

    One particular day, the tension was thick in the air, having coalesced into something barely breathable. Remy was lying back on the bed on his elbows as you redressed his wound, making sure to spread ointment onto the healing stitches and care for the skin. You frequently found yourself drawn to the sight of his lower abs, the large bruise having begun to yellow as it healed. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn't seen his skin in a while, but the sight of him had you breathing a little funny. Remy was also a little quieter than normal, unable to look away from your gentle hands as you took care of him.

    Once you finished, you lingered by his side, a hand pressed against his chest. You look up to find him already watching you, but neither of you says anything. You purse your lips, debating on whether or not you’re doing what you think you’re about to do. Remy tilts his head at you questioningly. He opens his mouth to speak but fails to do so as your hand trails down to his waistband. He takes a shocked breath through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he’s looking at you again through a lustful haze. 

    “Thought you said-”

    “Shut up.” You sigh, cutting him off. Remy smirks at you, biting his lip. You roll your eyes, caressing the crotch of his pants a few times before you begin to slip them off of him.

    “Don’t get too excited.” You whisper, but really it sounds more like a needy sigh. “Just a handy, okay?” Gambit huffs a laugh at you, but doesn’t tease. He's practically bucking his hips into your hand when you finally take hold of his cock, stroking him to hardness. You can’t seem to look away from the sight, watching as his abdomen clenches with every stroke from base to tip. You twist your hand on the upstroke, listening as Remy lets out a curse and a sudden moan just as you thumb his head, collecting his abundant precum as you use it to stroke back down again. 

    “You’re really pent up, huh?” You ask in a heated whisper. Remy’s head is tilted back in pleasure, and he huffs in amusement as he cracks an eye open at you. His hand slides up your thigh, Your legs being pressed against each other tightly to find some friction. You gasp as he suddenly slides two of his fingers up the inside seam of your pants, and you can practically feel yourself get wetter at the touch. 

    “Looks like I’m not the only one.” Remy hums. You can’t seem to pull away from him as he continues to stroke you. The air is hardly breathable, and the burning in your chest and your core starts to become too hot to ignore. 

    “Fuck it.” You say. Remy is confused when you let go of him, only to break into a wide smile when he realizes you were beginning to strip. The shirt is first to go, before your bra, and then your jeans and underwear. Remy wolf-whistles at the sight, and you wave him off, embarrassed. 

    “Couldn’t stay away from the temptation of Remy LeBeau, Now could you Chère?” Remy muses. He’s such a goof. You try to hide your smile as you carefully straddle his legs, making sure to avoid his sore spots. One of his hands holds onto your upper thigh, the other making its way to your center. He strokes you languidly with his fingers before circling your slit and pushing two inside. You suck in a breath, careful to set your hands on his shoulders without putting any weight onto them. 

    “Looks like this pretty pussy missed me as much as I missed you,” Remy says breathlessly. His eyes flicker from your cunt up to your bare breasts, and then to your flushed face. You feel like you’re falling apart too quickly, already climbing that high as he fingers you with those hands you love so much.

    “Remy,” You call for him breathlessly. “ m’ not gonna last too long.” Remy can't help himself any longer, and pulls you closer to catch you in a passionate kiss. He drags his teeth across your bottom lip, letting go of the plush skin. He doesn't withdraw his fingers until your thighs begin to shake and you start to clench down on him. You whine as he does so, barely holding your composure. Remy takes your hand off of his cock, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before gently dragging your hips further into his lap. Your mind is hazy, but you know to be careful as he lines himself up.

    “If we're going to do this, we're taking it my speed, okay?” You say. Remy nods, barely taking in the information. He was ready to be inside you. After weeks of nothing- all he could think about was you. Your giggles, your smiles. Your body. The way you taste on his tongue. The feeling of your thighs clenching around his head.  Remy would do anything you asked of him at this moment.

    You take it slow as you lower yourself down on his cock. The stretch of him feels delicious against your inner walls. Remy leans in, kissing and sucking on your breasts as you take your time. He bottoms out with a wet sound, his hands resting against your upper thighs.

    Remy curses as you begin to move, bouncing on his cock somewhat slowly. Even in the haze of your lust, you're worried about hurting him. Remy, on the other hand, doesn't share the same sentiment. His hands clench around your thighs, and when he can't seem to take the slow speed anymore, he slams you down onto him.

    You gasp at the action, and apologies spill from his lips as he tilts you forward, knocking your balance so you're forced to lean onto him as he controls the pace, eagerly thrusting into your heat. 

    “Remy-” Your protests are cut off with a kiss as your favorite scoundrel begins to take exactly what he wants. His grunts and moans beneath you send another trickle of warmth inside of you. To be honest, seeing him take control like this was hot- almost hot enough for you to forgive the fact that he was certainly overexerting himself- but it was hard to be mad at him when he's fucking you so good.

    One thing about Remy is that he's a talker in bed. If anything, you were surprised he was as “quiet” as he had been the majority of the time. But once he started to get closer to his peak, Remy began to ramble. 

    "You think you're smart? -Ah! Teasing me like that.. mmh… expecting me to just take it?" You're not really paying attention to his words, nodding in response while only thinking about his steady grip on your thighs and ass and the peak you're reaching so quickly. Remy squeezes you harder, almost harshly as he begins to take you faster. His hips begin to stutter, thrusts starting to do him in one by one. 

    Remy lets out a loud groan as he reaches his peak, burying himself deeply inside you and thumbing your clit. He continues to thrust as he helps you reach that white-hot peak of pleasure, pressing kisses to your temple as you ride it out on top of him. By the time you're both fully finished, you're panting for air. You're fully collapsed onto Remy's chest, Remy being absolutely boneless as he rests against the headboard. 

    “You’re such an idiot.” You say when you finally have enough sense. Remy just chuckles, continuing to press kisses to every part of your face and neck he can reach. You sigh happily as he does so, pressing some of your own kisses to his shoulder.

    When you finally peel yourself off of his chest, the first thing you check in on is his bandages. You scowl when you see that they've been soaked through with sweat, but more concerning is the spot of red that has started to form. You look up at Remy with narrowed eyes, and he quickly looks down as well, before looking back up at you and simply shrugging with a gleeful smile.

    “Casualty of love, Chère.”

[theblueflower05]

Part Two. Eclipse

Summary: After a heated argument with Lo’ak, Y/N and Kiri embark on a life threatening adventure. Neteyam races against time to save them.

Word count: 6k+

Warning: Violence. A little blood & gore but just a lil bit. Descriptions of parental pressure that may be triggering.

When my heart just burst like a glass balloon,

I let it fly too high and it shattered to soon.

I was the wrong damn girl in the wrong damn room.

I broke my glass balloon. I let go of my glass balloon

- Hermit the frog, Marina.

The forests of Pandora are never still.

They're always bustling with life, in constant movement. Dancing. Breathing. A fan lizard makes its way across the overgrown flora, slow and steady. Unassuming-

“You snooze you lose”

A loud screech followed by a chorus of giggles echos through the trees.

The poor fan lizard never had a chance, is knocked clear off its path as four pre-teens , a tornado of movement and sound, fly by. Swinging from branch to branch without a care in the world, the poor creature erupts into a spinning rainbow right before colliding with the moss covered floor.

No matter, nothing matters as the four of you make your escape from the village as you so often do.

Kiri hot on your tail, Lo’ak at the helm. Spider swinging from vine to vine, holding his own despite his much smaller frame. The vivid cobalt stripes that you’d painted on him days prior still stained his skin.

The trees lessen and then thin out as Hell’s Gate comes into view.

The fortress is big, and ugly. All concrete and overgrown plants. The last remnant of the sky peoples bases, it had definitely seen better days. Since it had been abandoned over a decade ago and left to the few trusted humans it had kind of gone to shit. Scientists are great at discovering, exploring. Maintenance? Not so much.

“Wanna play some ball?” Lo’ak asks as he makes a beeline for the basketball courts. You love humans strange games, they’re useless- but their fun. Just your cup of tea.

“No, I’m gonna go check on mom” Kiri’s already leagues forward, headed towards the entrance. Barely paying any attention to her brother.

“Awe come on- it’s not like she’s not gonna still be there later. Plus we know that Norm’s keeping her plenty company” Lo’ak and Spider giggle at his jab and Kiri throws a glare over her shoulder.

Your teeth dig into your tongue as you fight to keep the smile off of your face shrugging before heading in after her.

“Not you too Y/N. Man, you guys suck. Who’s gonna play with me?”

“I'm right here, cuz” Spider exclaimed, huffing up in exasperation.

Their height difference is laughable.

The Avatar designed basketball to big to fit in Spiders hands, the last time the four of you had played he’d taken it straight to the face, his nose so broken that it never really healed right. The entire court looked like a crime scene and Max had scolded all of you.

You had to remember Spider’s human body, and it’s limits, even if he didnt want you too.

The smaller human steals the culprit of a ball from Lo’ak’s grasp and begins to dribble circles around him and Lo’ak as always, defies any kind of predestined rules.

The labs are a familiar alien. All beeping neon buttons and sterile white surfaces. Monitors filled with images you don't quite understand, no matter how many times they’re explained to you. Since the first time Kiri had brought you here, you’d been perplexed. An obsessed fascination. You liked learning new things, you liked chatting with the friendly humans.

And you liked visiting Grace.

Kiri’s mom is in one of the back corners. Submerged, a bio-tank holding her. Cradling her something like a womb. She looks peaceful, you assure your friend. Whatever dreams she’s stuck in must be good ones.

“Hi mom” Kiri whispers, her five fingered hand pressing gently against the glass. You watch her, let her run through the process of her carefully cultivated routine. She likes to talk to Grace, fill her in on everything that’s happened since the last visit.

You think she’d have a better chance of making connection a connection at the tree of souls but you keep that fact to yourself.

“Hi Grace” You place the bracelet that you’d made for her on the tank. “Kiri ate shit at the watering hole the other day. You would’ve thought it was hilarious”

And you never knew Grace, never would, but who wouldn't think Kiri faceplanting during wash day wasn't funny? If you were stuck in slumber, you’d want people to tell you jokes.

The scientists are cool, and you make your rounds. Handing out the little bracelets you’d made them. You’d just about gotten human measurements down, but they still did hang a little awkwardly off of their gangly wrists.

No matter. Doctor Kelsey is a Zoologist who had been good friends with Kiri’s mom, and had taken the initiative to teach you how to read.

Sky people letters were simple in composition, but confusing in structure. That doesn't stop you from keeping your nose buried in the books she offers. You like the vividly colored picture books better than the black and white chapter ones but to each their own.

“Hi Y/N” Doctor Kelsey greets, laughing as you reach into the cloth knapsack that you’d toted along, giving her back ‘The Lorax’, in exchange for another old semi tattered book from her library.

“How’d you like this one?” She chats as she digs through her collection

“It was very sad. They had no trees, no animals” You explain, a deep frown maring your features as you recount and retell the story you’d read. “This is how your planet is, no?”

You remember Jake telling a story about Earth. A dying star.

“Pretty much, the book was definitely supposed to be an analogy for Global Warming and mass consumption issues. Good job for picking up on that Y/N, you really have been excelling. I’m gonna give you something a little harder. If you have any issues with it, Kiri will help until you can come visit again”

She hands you a thicker book and you sound out the golden rod letters of the title.

“Pet-her pahn?”

“Peter Pan” She corrects good naturedly “I think you’ll like this one, it's about a boy that never wants to grow up”

“Are you sure you don’t want to give this to Lo’ak instead?” You deadpan and Doctor Kelsey lets out a peel of laughter.

She reads the first couple chapters out loud to you and Kiri before having to return to her work. You both listen, ears twitching with interest. You pack the fragile book safely into your knapsack before you leave.

----------

It’s nearing eclipse and you know you really should be getting home- instead you sit crossed legged on a step, your face twisted into a deep scowl.

You spend more time at Hell’s Gate than you should, your parents remind you of the fact often, but you love it here. You can make the trek home in your sleep.

Which is why you’re less worried about the waning sunlight. More concerned with the words that had just come out of Lo’ak’s mouth.

“You guys could never do it, and not even because you're girls. Ma’s a girl, lots of hunters are. You’re just wusses” He taunts, chest all puffed out.

He’d been like this, ego inflated to the nines since he’d come back from the mountains a few days ago, actually in flight this time. A wriggling yelping Ikran below him and air of self importance that he just couldn't seem to shake.

Scratch the fact that you and Kiri had just handed him his own ass at H.O.R.S.E.

“Didn't it take you like three times and a concussion to tame your ikran?” You sneer and Spider lets out a huff of a chuckle, coughing when Lo’ak side eyes him.

“It was only two-” He starts and Kiri shakes her head, cutting him off quick.

“It can't be hard if you were able to do it. I mean, think about the Tayrangi, in their clan even the children ride. It wouldn’t be that hard to go up to the mountains and claim one”

Somehow it ended up like this most days. Kiri and Lo’ak on opposing views. Bickering until your ears hurt. You and Spider innocent on lookers, casualties of war as you alternated whos allegiance to pledge. Well Spider did, even if Lo’ak was right on the money and Kiri was dead wrong you’d stand beside her.

“Yeah so? We aren't coast people. I bet you couldn't even make it up the mountain. You’d shit your pants before you even tried. What would you do Kiri? Try to hug your ikran into submission” His words are laced with condescending laughter.

You shouldn't take it so personally, Lo’ak can be a dick. He doesn't even mean to be most of the time.

But it hits a sensitive raw nerve in your chest, the same one that had been hammered endlessly for years. To be a hunter, you have to ride. To be a hunter, you have to train. To be a hunter, you have to want to be one, right? You can't run away from it at every turn…

“We’re gonna have to do it eventually” You grit out.

“Yeah, sure” he drawls out the ‘e’ “I think you should probably just stick to your beadworking. You know, things you’re actually good at”

In the blink of an eye Lo’ak is drenched in what remained of your banana fruit juice, you’d emptied the canteen right in his stupid face. He blinks in surprise, his mouth falling open, tail going ramrod straight

“You’re such a douchebag” You hiss. You don't completely know what that word means, but you’d heard the sky people throw it around a handful of times and knew that it was nothing good.

“You head straight for the forest without another word. Face hot and eyes stinging.

“Why would you say that?” Kiri glares at her younger brother who looks completely shocked, ears flat and mouth open.

“What? Tell her that she’s good at something? That’s the last time I try to be nice, shit. Grandmother just re-braided my hair” Lo’ak moans as he he rakes his hands down his face, over his chest and through his hair. He’s already sticky.

“Dont be so dense. That wasn't cool and you know it” She sighs, before following you.

“Girls are psychotic” Lo’ak laments, and Spider just shakes his head.

“Yeah, totally”

---------

The forest has already started to glow, the path home bioluminescent which just makes your furious steps even faster. You didn't want to get in trouble with your parents too. They already weren’t going too be thrilled about you ditching babysitting duty to go hang out at the ‘cursed place’

“Wait up!”

You huff and clear the jump between branches in a clean swoop of a jump.

“Come on! Dont be mad at me I didn't do anything!” Kiri exclaimes jumping after you and nearly running into your back as you stop dead, waiting.

“I'm not mad, okay. I'm just-” You shake your head with a sigh. Not wanting to speak the words in your head. “Come on, we need to get home”

“Its okay to be mad at Lo’ak. My dad is, like, all the time” Kiri tries to soothe as the two of you continue your route.

“I can't be mad at someone who was only telling the truth”

“That wasn't the truth. That was him trying to pacify himself over the fact that he didn't get it first try like Neteyam”

Your stomach flutters when Kiri mentions her eldest brother, as it always does. You ignore it like you always do.

Pushing on further, faster, until the twinkling warm lights of the village come into view. They’ve already started preparing for the night and you need to start preparing for the earful you’re about to get.

Your heartbeat goes tense and anxiety creeps up your spine, your tail flicking in rapid jerky motions.

Kiri doesn't pry, she never needs to. She lets you huff and puff and stomp all the way back home, knowing that you’ll spill.

You lean against the bark of the trunk, your arms crossing over your chest as you look at your friend. She stands in front of you, expectant but not forceful. Already knowing whats bothering you, you’d vented about this particular issue so many times in the past.

“At least he got it, eventually. Didn't get himself killed like so many have before him- Kiri I don't know how I'm ever supposed to do that. My parents-” you choke on the word parents, have to swallow up the word vomit “My mom wants me to start really focusing on training and I just-”

“Don't want to?” Kiri offers.

“Completely suck at it. Everyone keeps telling me that it’s gonna get easier, it's in my blood, but I’m not a warrior. I don’t feel it, you know. I just want to read my new book, and make a necklace with those stones we found at the river. And gossip with the girls'' You sigh because why can't it be so easy?

“I think you’d be a great village gossip, we should ask my father if he can make that your official title”

You laugh in spite of yourself and your soured mood “It’s not funny. I'm never going to be what they want me to be. There's no way I’m ever going to be able to tame an ikran. He’s right”

“You don't really think that”

“No I really do. Im pretty sure I’d break my neck trying. I fall of direhorses all the time”

“You can also hit a moving target with your eyes closed. You don't have to be good at all things, all the time Y/N. It’s impossible” She reaches out to pat your shoulder.

“Try telling my mom that '' You sigh, and bring your hands to face, covering your eyes as you talk “I just don't want to disappoint everybody when I’m not able to do it. When I’m not able to complete my Inknamaya and become this great warrior they keep talking about. They’ll all come up to watch me get eaten by my own ikran”

“Would it be easier if they weren't watching?” Kiri offers solutions.

Probably so, but she knows how your family is. You remind her of the fact.

“What if we tried without them…if you didn't feel like you needed to perform, maybe you wouldn't be so in your head the whole time?” Kiri always has the worst plans. Seriously. But this one tops the cake.

You pull your hands from your face to glare at her incredulously. “You’re not serious”

“Why not? Tayrangi kids do it while they’re still in diapers, they don't have any training for it- they know what to do in their hearts. The great mother guides them through it”

“Kiri. Absolutely not”

“Think about it, cause I have. Even before tonight with my stupid brother. Tsaheylu is sacred, we know how to make it from the moment we’re birthed. It doesnt need to be browbeaten into us, we don't have to do it everyone else's way. My mother made the bond with a palulukan! And my father with Taruk? Who taught them how to do that?”

You shake your head because she’s far too good at convincing herself that her asinine ideas aren't exactly that.

You’ve seen the way the forest interacts with her, you know how special she is…but this would certainly get you both killed. Thirteen is young to make the bond with an Ikran anyway. Even the highly skilled, trained and ready warriors have trouble with it.

You're shaking your head, arms back tightly crossed over your chest, about to go full older sister mode when there's a rustling in the nearest tree.

Two sets of ears twitch, focused on what's coming-

“Lo’ak? Kiri?- There you are!”

Neteyam swings in from above, lands gracefully on his feet in front of you.

His amber orbs scan quickly over you both, apprising and slightly annoyed and your stomach does its tell tale flutter. Having him so close, tall and looming never does good things to your weak, wanting heart.

“You do realize that you were supposed to be home hours ago- it's almost eclipse. Mom and dad are pissed, he would have come out himself if Norm hadn’t radioed in that you all we’re using Hell’s Gate as a playground again”

Neteyam sounds every bit his role. Future clan leader, semi disgruntled older brother.

“It's not even eclipse yet, there's still light” Kiri is reaching, it's all but dark out. “Right Y/N?”

“Right? We definitely had a quarter hour left at least, if anything we’re right on time” You nod, catching her line of bullshit and rolling with it.

Neteyam pinches the bridge of his nose. “Your parents are upset too Y/N. I wouldn't use that line with them if I was you”

The anxious flick of your tail comes back full force “Like really upset? Or just- a little bit?”

His deadpan face tells it all. “Where is Lo’ak?

Another shuffle in the trees, leaves and smaller branches swaying. Lo’ak appears, obviously behind. He doesn't land nearly as gracefully as Neteyam.

“I’m right here bro, chill out” Lo’ak’s eyes meet yours briefly and you huff, still upset clearly.

Your nose is high in the air as you turn away. If you had to get scolded, you’d do it with some kind of dignity- and he could fuck right off.

“What is all over you?” Neteyam questions his brother from behind you, plucking at his one of his younger brothers sticky braids.

----------

Its an accumulation of things, your mother tells you. She doesn't scream, but the tongue lashing is no less intense. No, if anything it's worse. You can't look her in the face.

Its an accumulation of things, she tells you. It’s your disregard of your duties, who would have watched your little sisters had an Aunt not volunteered to do what you should’ve. You are to watch over them while she’s partoling and you know that.

It’s your training, or lack thereof. You can't get better if you don't put in the effort. If you don't focus.

“It’s this streak of immaturity , Y/N. You are not a childling anymore. By the time I was your age I was helping feed our community, I had found myself within the people. I want that for you- and you disappoint me at every chance”

Your ears are plastered to the side of your head the entire time, your tail wrapped around your calf. You take it wordlessly, blinking furiously at the tears because you can. Not. Cry.

“Are we done?” You croak and your mother looks like she might cry herself. Instead she nods and you sprint as quickly as you can away. Only when she can't see your face do you let the tears roll fast and hot.

It's later in the night, laying with your family on your cot. Staring at the star filled sky that you recount your mothers words.

Disappoint me.

You disappoint me.

Somewhere, somehow, Kiri’s get mixed in.

What if we tried without them?

-----------

To tame an Ikran, you have to go where the Ikrans are.

This was known by all. You’d heard stories of how tedious the journey was, but as you make it yourself, you realize that all before you had minimized its nature.

You and Kiri had taken direhorses out in the early morning under the guise of foraging for berries that you had spotted a week before when visiting the lab. They hadn't been ready to pick then, somehow your Grandfather buys it. Sends you out with a kiss on the forehead.

You're glad your mother is out hunting, she wouldn't have been such an easy sell.

It was early, when you’d left. The sun just rising. Now it is high in the sky, shining brightly as the two of you ride as far down the path as you can go on horseback. The path is narrow and carved into the face of a steep cliff. Rocks crumble away, you soothe the gentle beast beneath you.

Kiri seems to be doing the same for you. Turning back to look at you every few minutes.

“How do you know where we’re going?” You’d questioned her when she’d offered to lead the way.

“I just know. Eywa will show us”

To anyone else that might have not been enough. You follow her eagerly.

The direhorses can only take you so far- before its time to climb.

And climb you do.

The two of you scale the floating mountains none too fast. Its treacherous unstable ground, the wind shifting the terrain with every breeze and you never quite feel like you have your sure footing.

You’d grown up in hometree. They say it isn't as large as the one that your parents grew up in, that the sky people destroyed, but it still towers high. You’d ridden on the back of your mothers ikran, you'd climbed to the top of lovers Peak to watch the great colors in the sky.

You were no stranger to heights, but as Kiri jumps, and latches on to a weak looking vine in mid air you hesitate. You stop for a moment, and look below you.

All you can see are clouds, misty and white. So high up that you can't even see the ground.

“Come on, Y/N!” she calls for you and you gulp. Breath through your nose and take the leap.

The journey is laborious, and feels like it lasts forever. By the time the two of you make it to the entrance of the mouth of the cave you are both covered in sweat, panting profusely. Your arm muscles scream at the intense treatment. You reach a hand out, sweeping through one of the waterfalls that seem to fall into nothing.

Rub the cool liquid on the back of your neck.

It was hell to get to, but the mountain of the Ikran is beautiful.

They fly in the hundreds here, screeching and circling each other in the sky, sweeping from mountain to mountain. Their breeding grounds lush with waterfalls and fungi.

Looking down, down through the gaps of clouds you can see the forest below. It looks so small and and far away. Your stomach lurches, you feel like you’re flying already.

“We made it. I can't believe we made it. Thank you great mother” Kiri whispers, her hands clutching her chest.

“Don't thank her quite yet, we still haven't gotten through the hard part” You remind her- because its there. Looming just out of sight.

There is only a moment to catch your bearings, before you settle in on what you came for.

“We can still go back” Kiri offers. She has to. You don't have to do this.

You shake your head. “No, we can't. We came all this way and I’m never climbing this mountain again”

It’s through one of the waterfalls, the sound of rushing water filling your ever twitching ears as you pay close attention to your footing on the narrow, slippery ledge. It’s white noise, the first peace you’d had since the start of your climb.

“How will we know if an Ikran chooses us?” one of your peers had asked during training and Jake had smiled. All to canine.

“It’ll try to kill you”

You fist the bolo rope you’d brough until the leather digs deep into your palm as they come into view. All of them, dozens. Ikrans of all colors and sizes are seated at what looks like a basking site. They slowly become aware of the outside intrusion, and then its eyes. So many of them. All focused on you and Kiri.

“How are we gonna do this?” You whisper to her, heart pounding in your throat. Adrenaline rushing protectively through your veins.

“I’m not sure yet” She replies very unhelpfully.. Of course It goes the way all things go with Kiri.

Strange.

She doesn't seem as scared as you are, she steps lightly around the winged creatures, whispering all the while. You’re glued to your spot, still not far from where you’d entered. You’d seen your friend do a number of weird things, unexplainable things. But this…was something else. She approaches an Ikran. And it doesn't try to kill her.

No, the mostly chartreuse creature cocks its head at her. Skittish and unsure. You’re too far away to hear what she's saying but Kiri keeps whispering. Talk to it, as one does a child. A smile on her face, her arm outstretched and welcoming.

“Kiri don’t!”

You’re trying to figure out how exactly you’re going to explain a missing arm to her family when she takes a hold of her que, and simple as anything, connect it to her ikrans.

The gasp you let out leaves your throat sore.

You’re confused. Cant believe your eyes. You’re still in disbelief when she takes flight, the green and silver of the wings sparking in the high alkaline sunshine. Kiri soars through the air- making a wide turn, and coming back to where you’re still rooted.

“How did you do that?!” Your voice breaks and your eyes are wide as saucers.

“I asked her if she wanted to be my friend!” Kiri hollers back. Completely serious. “You can do it Y/N! You’ve gotta, this is amazing! She yells “You’ve got this!”

And you want it, so badly.

You want to be in the air with her, you don't want to go back to the village riding her coat tails and reeking of defeat. You have to do this, you square your shoulders,

“I’ve got this!” You reply, even though you keep thinking about Lo’ak’s unconscious body on the back of Neytiri’s ikran the first time he’d tried this. He’d been knocked unconscious, head bloody and his mom had had to carry him home.

It is glaringly apparent as you take the steps that your friend had just made, that this is not going to go the same way for you.

Where the banshee’s seemed to be at peace with her being here on their territory they reacted completely differently as you approach. Wailing loudly, scattering. Hostile and ready to strike.

They didn't want to be your friend.

Everytime you get close, they take off, jumping ship. Taking to the skies.

Until one doesn't.

Perched on a rock, the creature looks at you with a sharp turquoise eye. Only one, the other is scared, disfigured from past battle. She’s huge and dark purple. So dark she looks shiny with it, the orange, green and magenta splotches on her skin give the appearance of an oil slick.

She’s nothing like the pretty, feminine ikrans you’d so admired growing up. She’s fierce and terrifying and for a moment you think that there's no way she’s choosing you.

“Oh shit” you hear Kiri, distantly.

The ikran opens her massive jaws and lets out a roar that shakes you to your core.

“It’ll try to kill you” Jake had answered the question. Training young hunters to the best of his ability “And you’ve gotta call their bluff”

You muster a fierce hiss, even though you feel anything but, and then its on.

Lightening quick, chaos ensues. A tangle of limbs and wings. You can't wrap your mind around what's happening, there’s no room for any other thoughts then make tsaheylu. You have to follow your body, trust it. But it's so hard when something three times your size is struggling against you, trying to take any chance it has to kill you.

“Make the bond!”

You get the bolo wrapped around its gnashing jaws and chalk it up to pure luck. In the next moment one of it’s wings expands violently, throwing you back. Luckily not straight over the edge, but against the rough rocky wall opposite.

Your head connects with a sickening thud.

Your world goes dark, the pain on the right side of your face excruciating and your ears ringing from the impact. Or is that Kiri screaming? You force yourself to collect your bearings, forcing up onto your knees. You can taste metallic in your mouth and your head feels too heavy for your neck to hold.

A flash of purple brings your eyes back to focus.

NO.

The ikran is going to take flight, her wings outstretched. She’s going to leave and you’re never going to have another chance. You’re going to have to ride back home bloody and defeated. A loser who never should’ve tried. You’re going to disappoint your family, again. You won't be able to bring this glory to them-

You didnt come this far to go back empty handed. You weren't going to get in trouble for nothing.

The ikran takes off disappearing over the edge.

And you jump off the cliff behind her.

-----------

Jake is making his rounds, there’s so many of them now a days. He checks in with Mo’at, runs perimeter. Takes account of his people, and wonders if the imposter syndrome will ever fade. Tuk is still just young enough that she sticks to his side like glue.

“Daddy, look at this!” “Daddy, what’s that!”

A part of him wishes all of his children were still 5 years old. Still thought he hung the stars just for them. Instead he barely knew where they were anymore. Teenagers are still teeangers no matter what planet they’re on.

He does mental intake- Neteyam would no doubt be leading training. Kiri off somewhere with Y/N, and Lo’ak was hunting with Neytiri so for once Jake didn't need to worry about him.

Everything was fine. Everything was great…so why did he have this gnawing feeling in his gut that it wasn't?

It’s okay, this is why he’d given his family coms, so that he could check in whenever he wanted to.

He touches base with Neytiri first, her and Lo’ak are fine and he better not mess up her shot again.

Then Neteyam, he’ll be on stand-bye if needed.

“Kiri, I need your six. Over” He’s met with dead silence. He tries again, and again only for the same result. And that’s not normal. Kiri, at this age, will usually reply with some sarcastic smart ass quip. Captain dad, she calls him.

She’s never gone radio silent. And Jake’s gut has never lead him astray. Something’s wrong.

Tuk is pulling on his hand, taking his ear off but he’s sinking into a place he knows all too well- he can't panic. His brains not hardwired for that, too many battlefields, too much experience.

“Neteyam? When was the last time you saw Kiri, over?”

The first place he looks for his daughter is with Y/N, the two are practically conjoined at this point. You aren't to be found at your hut, but your grandfather tells him that the two of you had gone gathering. Bubble berries, its their season but the timing doesn't match- if his daughter had left this morning, she’d be back by now.

Jake’s in full military mode, furiously barking out orders.

A search party needed to be dispersed. Now. He’s gathering his men when Vitany, your mother touches ground. She’s confused, and then she’s fearful. He can see his own emotions mirrored in her eyes. She’s a great warrior, one of his best. She’d fought beside him for the last decade. No fear, heart of a lion. That all tends to go out of the window the moment your child is involved.

“Ma’ Jake!”

As Neytiri and Lo’ak land, having raced home from hunting at the news- his wife looks much the same. Terrified, confused. Shooting off question after question, where can they be? Where do they start?.

He’s about to take flight- to follow the search party.

“Dad!” Its Neteyam, and along with him he’s toting Spider. A gentle but firm grip on the younger, smaller boy's shoulder.

“What’s going on? What is it?”

“You need to tell them what you told me” his eldest son urges the human boy “Right now”

Jake’s always felt for Spider. A kid misplaced forever on a planet not his own. With people who could never and would never see him as anything but an alien.

All eyes are on him.

“It was uh, it was like a week ago. When they came to visit Hell’s Gate. We all got into it about ikran riding and how Kiri and Y/N weren't cut out for it. Kiri said that she could do it a different way like the Tayrangi Clan did, and Y/N just got really pissed at Lo’ak and left-”

“Is this true?” Neytiri looks to Lo’ak who hangs his head. But nods in agreement.

“What are you saying?” Jake presses, because he needs a solid answer.

“I think that they might have gone into the mountains. To try and tame ikrans” Spider finishes and Neteyam lets go of his shoulder, his hand slightly shaking.

“No” Vitany gasps horrified. Her daughter isn't trained enough. What the human boy just spoke of is certain death, she's on the back of her own ikran within seconds, taking off as fast as she can.

Racing towards the breeding grounds. Neytiri is hot on her trail.

“Neteyam, I need you with me, let's go!” Jake calls for Bob, high pitched bird sounds, and the beast lands at his feet, ever loyal. Looking at him, Jake remembers just what it took to tame him-

“Not you” He bellows, already mid flight. Catches his youngest son gripping his reins. Lo’ak protests, his eyes watery as the weight of his actions weigh down heavily on him.

“Dad, please”

“You’ve done enough”

------------

Neteyam spends most his life in flight, since he had passed his rite of taming Atanzaw(lightning) years ago, he never wanted to touch ground.

He felt most himself in the sky. Free, lost to the vastness of the wind. He’d take any hunting, scouting or perimeter control shifts he could get his hands on, as long as he could fly.

It's an unusual feeling, being on ikrab back and having his stomach tied into knots. Being so worried that he can barely breathe.

He has to keep his mind clear to keep Atanzaw flying straight, piercing through the clouds like a bullet. He can't imagine his sister mauled to death or her best friend thrown to her death. It is too much.

He let his guard down, he knew he needed to help keep a closer eye on his siblings when his mother was hunting and he let his fucking guard down.

Kiri and Y/N we’re always running off, but never far. He could always track one’s movement by the other’s. Keeping an eye on Y/N had become a part of his routine, and he’d slacked.

Y/N hadn’t shown up for training and he should’ve known something was wrong- but she’d been off all week. Upset at something that was none of his business to uncover. Overworking herself, walking away from friends that she’d usually spend her time chattering with.

Shit.

He’s better than this. He’s going to be Olo’ekteyan someday, how is he supposed to keep the people safe if he can't even keep his sister safe? He’s wallowing in could’ve, would’ve should’ve’s when he hears a scream.

Neteyam banks against the wind, using all his strength to pull himself and Atanzaw in the other direction. Towards the screams, towards where his sister and her friend we’re undoubtedly in imminent danger.

He doesn't get shocked much, and when he does, he’s always able to hide it. Able to handle it enough that no one even noticed.

His mouth hangs open and his ears point straight at the sight that greets him.

No longer is the sky filled with screams, but with girlish giggles. Yelps and ikran caterwauls.

Kiri and Y/N do barrel rolls around each other, in hysterics as they play in the clouds. Both of them sat atop their respective ikran- not dead. Not dying. But frolicking, like schoolgirls. Like they didn't just give the village a collective fucking stroke.

Neteyam is angry, furious even. But more so, he’s impressed. That combined with the shock is a potent mix in his system and he can help but let out an incredulous laugh. Somehow the two of you were not only alive, but flying, bareback. Had climbed the Hallelujah mountains alone, and tamed ikran.

You were both in so much fucking trouble.

A|N: Okay I know the story is lacking Neteyam right now, buttttt I just needed to get through with the set up. All of the rest of the chapters will be very Neteyam x Reader heavy.

Also- I read an article that said this is how Kiri bonded with her Ikran in the comics? And thought it was rad. I had to roll with it.

Please comment and tell me what you think! And what you wanna see in future parts! More interaction will always mean quicker updates.

[viscera-vital]

or like. one of my OTHER favorite things to think about kelvin like. IT DOESNT EVEN HAVE TO BE ON THE ISLAND actually i kind of love the thought of them like in their kitchen after being rescued n rehabilitated cuz its domestic and kelvin is cleaning up. n cicero comes up behind him and hugs him and mumbles to him something. cheeks turn red and he suddenly doesnt feel like cleaning up anymore!!! feels ciceros hands trail down, one slides down his chest and underneath his shirt to feel his soft tummy, the other edges its way to his waistband...... eheheehehe skjfssjdfs

whispering about how he needs to take care of him right now, needs to taste his cum LIKE. god hes all fucked up!!! heads spinning and heart pounding, hangs his head a little while he braces himself against the counter cuz he knows hes gonna need the stability

cicero palming him thru his pants for a moment but hes already hard!! easily. who wouldnt be? undoes his belt n slides his pants down just a bit, smiles softly when he feels his cock spring out of his boxers LIKE UGHHHH love him

theres nothing better in my head than giving someone a handjob while yr pressed tightly against their back ITS SO GOOD!!!! cicero can be kind of demanding so i wouldnt put it past him to snap his fingers underneath kelvins face n open his palm, expecting him to give him a little spit to work with. but kelvin likes it better when its ciceros, something about it gets him off way easier so he shakes his head and mumbles "you". GRGRGRR say less!!!!! okayyy yes sir o7

godd the feeling of ciceros hand all wet against his cock. he could die there and be happy!!! knows hes gonna take good care of him, i mean. can you blame him? looking after him for months on a remote island full of danger has kinda just embedded that need in his head, he wants to take care of him before he does anything else. its why hes got him pinned against the counter now, languidly stroking his cock, completely captivated by his soft moans and how he involuntarily bucks his hips against his hands every now and then. enamored for real

and its mutual of course, kel cant stop the way he groans when he feels cicero rock his hips against him gently from behind like. the WAY it makes him feel.. LIKE. GUHHHH HES MY PRETTY PRINCESS......... hes sooooo cute i want him to feel so taken care of and so loved and so. GRGRRR i want that grown man blushin i want him feeling so pretty and special I WANT HIM FEELING LIKE HIS NEVER FELT BEFORE!!!!!!!!!!!! want him underneath me want him grinding against me and begging and crying UGHHH.

JUST THE IMAGE of him leaning against the counter while cicero works his cock, sweat forming at his brow n hes trying sooo hard to keep himself upright even tho his legs are starting to shake a little. wants nothing more than to lay down in their soft bed and let cicero have his way with him but.. knowing that at any time cicero might suddenly get the urge to make him cum, even in the middle of a chore? LIKE.. HES NOT COMPLAINING.. probably feels so good knowing he can be pleased whenever, like so willingly and eagerly too. cicero doesnt even WANT anything he just.. needs to make him cum like i can imagine cicero coming home from work and kelvin greets him and hes just like pleaseee let me suck yr dick i had a hard day today i need to taste you and hes 😃 okay!!!!!! dont gotta tell him twice.

he thinks its incredibly sweet, too. isnt it so cute? DONT TALK TO ME OKAY... sexual comfort is very healing for me!!!! so yeah i think him relaxing by getting on top of kelvin and grinding against his cock for an hour is the sweetest thing ever like. teehee want them both desperate and frantic, mumbling and whining, begging to cum!!!!! ughhh good lord. its my favorite past time love thinkin about that

[starlightxsvt]

3 dates | epilogue

pairing ➳ badboy!Seungcheol x female!reader

genre ➳ badboy au, romance, some fluff, angst, bad attempt at humour, gets spicy at the end.

word count ➳ 3.5k (total 15.6k)

warnings ➳ cursing, mentions of killing, mentions criminal activities, slight violence(non explicit), smoking, ma man Seungcheol ain't your typical badboy, blackmailing, reader does all sorts of risky things cuz she's a SIMP, blood(nothing explicit), kissing, marking, some breast worshipping, grinding, reader is horny lol. (Please lemme know if I forgot anything.)

a/n : here's the epilogue to 3 dates since tumb1r won't let me post the whole fic in one post :) Enjoy!

Part 1

As time progresses and days turn into weeks and then into months you are not left with the luxury to cry over Seungcheol. Instead you are bombarded with assignments and projects from your uni and you drown yourself completely in work to forget the scathing pain. Katelyn figured out something is wrong with you and even though talking about that man pains you too much, you told her that you are done with him and you won't be seeing him again in this lifetime. Katelyn did not ask any questions after that as you said you needed time to heal, time to forget even though you have serious doubts he'd ever leave your mind.

You have also applied for an internship to keep you even busier so that when you return home you are too tired to let the thoughts of him plague your mind as you drift off to sleep. And just like that, you have developed a routine, work, eat and sleep, trying your best to allow yourself to not think about him.

Despite that sometimes, some very few times, you think of him, wonder how he's doing, wonder if he's safe. You ponder if he thinks of you, if he regrets his decision but you don't have any answer. You simply hope he does.

-

After another day full of assignments and projects you almost doze off to sleep as soon as you hit your bed until you are intruded by the loud ringing of your phone. Annoyed, you reach for it, wondering who would be calling so late.

The caller ID has your heart doing a backflip, the name you were unable to delete from your heart and your phone flashing on the screen as you instantly sit up in your bed. It's Seungcheol.

Why is he calling so late?

You wait a few seconds, scared to pick up, scared that he might have called accidentally. But before you lose your chance, you inhale deeply and pick the call up. "Hello?" You speak, your voice tentative.The silence from the other end makes your heart fall and your suspicion come true. He called you accidentally and now he will realize it and hang up. You're about to speak again when his voice floats through.

"Hi."

The emotions you feel are overwhelming, undescribable. You're relieved, you're sad, you're excited, you want to cry and scream at the same time. That one word from him has you feeling tingles all over and makes you feel like you just did a hundred laps. Anyhow you manage to speak. "Hey." Your voice almost cracks and tears almost slip past your cheeks. You don't know why you are so emotional. "I just...I just wanted to hear your voice." He sounds so tired...so dejected and your heart breaks. Never in your life did you imagine him to call and say those words to you but instead of feeling happy, a current of melancholy hits you.

Why does he sound so broken?

"Seungcheol? Is...is everything alright?" Your voice is feather like, soft and careful. You hear him sigh loudly and you get your answer. Instead of replying to you, he asks, "How have you been?"

"I'm...fine," you lie. You have been nowhere near fine. He hums noncommittally and you're about to ask him the same question before you realize how dumb it would be. If his voice is any indication he is anything but fine. "____?" He calls your name softly. "Y-yes?" You whisper.

He stays silent, for so long that you think he hung up. "I- I just...can I see you?" He seems to have a hard time gathering his words.

What? You lurch out of bed pushing your covers aside in excitement, trying to prevent a gasp out of your lips. Did you even hear correctly? He wants to see you?

"Wha... what do you mean?" You mumble. You hear him sigh loudly, "I...I am in front of your apartment. Just come down for a minute." You don't need to hear any more words as you are dashing towards your front door in your pajamas, not disconnecting the call. You take the elevator and come out of the building as fast as possible, bumping into things in your way but not giving a care. You feet stops as you stand in front of the entrance to your building, eyes searching wildly for Seungcheol. "Stay there," his voice comes through the phone, just as you spot him standing on the opposite to your building, decently far but not far enough that you can't see.

A horrified gasp leaves your mouth as your eyes finally land on him.

He stands there, bruised, his beautiful face marred with scratches and wounds, his clothes having patches of dirt and if you are seeing correctly his left arm is bleeding as he holds the phone next to his ear with the other.

"Seungcheol-" you're about to rush towards him. "Don't move." He cuts you off, looking you in the eye. Even from afar you don't miss the dark, commanding gaze of him. "Just...just stay there. Just...let me look at you."

No- why is he doing this?

Tears slip down your cheeks, "Seungcheol-" You are interrupted once more, "Please. I- I missed you and...I needed to see you. Just let me hear your voice and look at you like this." His voice almost cracks and you can see the emotion in his eyes.

Your heart breaks.

Why does he keep doing this? Why does he keep pushing you away? Why does he torment himself like this?

You stand there, rooted to the ground, quiet sobs leaving your mouth. He comes here all bruised and wounded and expects you to stay away? How can you when you can clearly see him in pain?

You grip the phone tighter, watching him as he stands there, not moving an inch. His eyes never leaves you as he drinks you in, like this is the last time he's gonna look at you. You can't stand it anymore. Hanging up the phone you run towards him, as fast as your nimble legs can carry you. You can't stay away, you just can't. Not when he looks so hurt and lost and lonely.

Your body smashes against his as you wrap your arms tightly around his torso, your head buried in his chest. He stumbles back from the force and for a while he stays unmoved and you hold your breath, half expecting him to shove you away. But he doesn't. Instead he pulls you firmly against him resting your head on his chest while burying his face in your hair.

The tears come naturally. Loud, ungraceful sobs emerge from you as you cling to him like your life depends on it, your grip on him unyielding. Seungcheol softly pets your hair as your cries fill the silence of the cold night. You pull back just a little to look at his face and you want to once more. There's a cut above his brow and some bruises on his cheek and nose and another cut on his lower lip. But you can't bring yourself to care as you lean above to press your lips against his. You don't dare hold back, kissing him like the world is about to end. Seungcheol reciprocates, tilting your head for better access as his tongue prods into your mouth and you taste the metallic flavour of blood. The kiss is messy, all teeth and tongue, an outpour of the bottled up feelings of the last couple months.

You both take a lungful of air when you pull back and you're about to dive in for more when you realize his arm is injured. "Wha- how did this happen?" You hiccup, wiping away your tears as you gently reach for his bleeding arm. His clothes are torn at the part of the wound and from what you can see, it looks like a knife injury, a thin, slanted cut on his upper arm as if someone slashed him. "It's nothing," he says trying to push your hand away.

"It's not nothing, Seungcheol!" You're yelling before you know it. It's the exasperation, the accumulated frustration over the days that makes you snap.

Seungcheol seems to be shocked at your outburst as he blinks at you, an astonished look on his face. He's kind enough to reply honestly this time. "Got into a fight. I was outnumbered. It's okay, it's nothing serious, I've had worse," his voice is small, almost timid which is definitely unlike him.

Of course he has had worse.

You let out a tired breath. "Come on, you're bleeding. Let me help you." You wrap a hand around his uninjured arm, tugging him towards your apartment.

"No, you don't have to-" he protests but you pin him down with a look. "Please," you speak, your voice low. "I can't let you go like this. Just let me clean your wound." Seungcheol presses his lips into a thin line as if trying to prevent himself from speaking further. When no more words leave his mouth, you drag him into your building in silence.

Entering your unit you help Seungcheol sit down in your small living space as you quickly pad towards the bathroom for the first aid kit. When you return you find him looking around your place with a curious glow in his eyes similar to a child's. As your eyes meet, he sits up straighter and tries to remove his jacket. You aid him in the process, discarding the material on the floor as you take a seat next to him, the first aid kit in your lap.

Thankfully he's wearing a tank top as it gives you easy access to his biceps. You would have stopped to admire and ogle them if he wasn't hurt, which he is and you mentally smack yourself for having such thoughts right now. Seungcheol's eyes does not leave your face as he silently gazes at you and if you didn't know any better you would say he looked at you fondly.

Swallowing, you sanitize your hands before proceeding to clean his wound. Seungcheol tenses beside you, low, pained grunts leaving his lips a few times as you disinfect the cut. But he says nothing, letting you do the work and you don't speak either focused on the task at hand. You then do the same for his face and finish your work by wrapping a bandage around his bicep and sitting back, exhaling a satisfied sigh. Unintentionally your eyes connect to his and you find his scorching gaze on you, those mesmerising eyes almost piercing through your soul. Feeling self aware, you abruptly stand up, coughing to clear your throat. "You should take a shower. I have some extra clothes for my parents when they come over. My dad's clothes should fit you."

"No, it's alright. I should leave." He murmurs. "You're already here. Might as well take a shower. There's no rush," you say sternly, trying to make him agree.

Truth is you want him to stay, at least the night.

Seungcheol sits quietly for a while as if contemplating before surrendering with a sigh. "Okay." "Good. The bathroom's this way," you point towards the attached bath in your room and Seungcheol mutely follows. You offer him a towel and you dad's pajamas, hoping they'd do the job for tonight as he closes the door behind him.

As silence fill the apartment, you quietly return to your bed and sit, anxiously chewing on your lower lip. The digital clock beside your bed reads 2:50 am but your sleep is long gone.

Choi Seungcheol is here. In your house.

Will he spend the night? Or will he be his stubborn self and leave as soon as he is out? And if he does stay, will you see him in morning? Or will he be gone before the sun is up? The thoughts running rampant in your mind gives you a headache as you groan, rubbing your temples. You are sure Seungcheol feels something for you, he has to. Otherwise why would he come to you in the middle of the night? If only he told you his feelings, spilled his heart out to you rather than hiding and pushing you away. He just needs to bare himself to you, tell you what is in his heart. Why can't he do that? Why can't he just give the two of you a chance?

Your thoughts are interrupted as Seungcheol steps out the bathroom, half naked, the pajama pants hanging low on his hips as his muscled body is displayed in all its glory, making your throat dry. He looks at you before quickly looking away as an air awkwardness and tension fills the room. You hold your breath, watching him intently, not moving a single muscle as he tentatively takes a seat at the corner of your bed while wiping his wet hair with the towel hanging around his neck.

You want to tell him to stay the night, the words right on the tip of your tongue but you're terrified that it will just make him walk out here immediately. So instead you watch him with bated breath, waiting for his next move, waiting for him to say something, anything that will put an end to this deafening silence.

Seungcheol takes mercy on you.

"Thank you," he says, voice barely audible. You don't know what he's thanking you for you reply anyway. "Welcome. Though I don't know what you are thanking me for." Seungcheol remains silent for a few beats, his eyes focused on the floor before replying. "For everything. I have a lot to thank you for."

Okay.

You nod mutely, unable to figure out a reply. Another wave of silence settles in the atmosphere like a blanket. You take this time to appreciate his beautiful profile, engraving his features in your mind. The moonlight coming from your window falls on his face partially, illuminating his sculpted lineaments. You get to admire his beauty once more as he sits there but the look on his face tugs at your heartstrings. He looks troubled and in pain, the natural glow of his face somewhat dim. You wonder how the past couple of months have treated him. You wonder how life has been treating him, if he had someone to go to, someone to share his worries with all this time.

"Do you still like me?" His words make your eyes widen as it the last thing you expected to come from him. "You wouldn't be here if I didn't," your words come out harsher than you intended making you regret instantly. Perhaps the pain you have suffered for a while is coming out finally. However, seeing his silence, you reply once more, voice much softer this time, "Of course I still like you, Seungcheol. I have...I have never liked anyone or anything as much as you."

It's an understatement. What you feel for him is love but you would rather keep that to yourself.

"Why?" Seungcheol's voice comes out as a croak as his eyes connect to yours. For the first time, you see so much emotion in them and maybe, maybe even some unshed tears, though you can't be sure because the light is not sufficient right now. Your throat closes up for some reason as your eyes mirror the emotions in his and you desperately try to think, try to give him a reply that he deserves.

"You are very easy to like," you say lamely. Your reply is insufficient but that's all you can manage without starting to bawl like a child. A humourless laugh comes out of Seungcheol and echoes through the otherwise quiet room. "I doubt that," he says, his voice deep. "It's true Seungcheol," you repeat, voice firm.

A mirthless grin settles on his face and you know he isn't buying your words. Swallowing, you carefully, too carefully, scoot towards him and sit down, maintaining a little space between the the two of you. "I don't understand why you hold such negative thoughts about yourself but believe me Seungcheol, it's hard not to fall in love with you."

Your slip-up causes your eyes to widen, face drowning in embarrassment as you realize you just said the L word. Seungcheol, however, does not react to it but turns his head to study your face and the pain and sentiment in his eyes, his passionate gaze on you makes you forget human language. You've never seen nor imagined Seungcheol to be so full of ardor and pain and now that you have, you don't know what to do. You just want to cling to him and cry like a child.

"Can't you see how fucked up I am? What and awful person I am, ____? Someone like me deserves noth-" Unable to hold yourself back you interrupt him by cupping both of his cheeks and pressing your lips to his. You kiss him softly, carefully, trying to gauge his feelings while trying not to push him too hard. Seungcheol stays immobilised, letting you kiss him like that. When you pull back, his eyes are closed and he rests his forehead against yours. "You are just fine, Seungcheol. I like you just the way you are. Don't...beat yourself up like this, hmm?" Your voice is just above a whisper as you tilt his head to meet his eyes. Seungcheol stares quietly at you for a while before suddenly pushing you back and caging you underneath his large body. A squeak of surprise leaves your lips as Seungcheol wastes no time wrapping himself around you while attaching his lips to yours.

This time the kiss is not soft, it is full of passion and vigour and longing as Seungcheol takes the reign. Your lips mold perfectly against each other and Seungcheol does not hold back, kissing you like a starved man; all teeth and tongue. He pulls back for a while, supporting himself on his elbows as you looks at you while you try to catch your breath underneath him. His hand comes to stroke your hair gently, like a lover and your eyes burn at his tenderness.

"Seungcheol-"

"Is there still a place for me in your heart?" He asks, a hopeful note in his voice. His words leave you breathless as you gape at him in suprise, you mouth open slightly. Seungcheol looks at you look longingly as he waits for your answer, which comes easily, without a second thought.

"Of course, Seungcheol. I...I love you."

This time it is his turn to be surprised as his pupils dilate and a soft gasp of surprise escapes from him. Swallowing, you hold his gaze, waiting for his next words but they never come. Instead, the man attacks your lips with renewed fervour while slotting a muscular thigh between your legs. As his toned thigh brushes against your core a wanton moan leaves your mouth and you wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel Seungcheol smirk against your skin while he kisses a path down from jaw towards your neck, taking his sweet time to plant some love bites along the way while you gasp and writhe underneath him. Soon he reaches the valley of your breasts and with skilled fingers he does a quick work of the buttons of your night shirt. His heated gaze remains on your now bare breasts and you can feel your nipples harden in the chill air of the room before he leans down to plant soft kisses all over them. While he does so you continue to grind your core against his leg, desperate for some friction which he is denying you. His assault on your neck and breasts don't stop as he remains focused in marking you, blooming kisses of red and purple on your skin.

"I missed you," His voice comes out as throaty whisper while he keeps his lips attached to your heated skin. "Me too," you choke between moans as his ministrations on your body leaves you aching all over for him.

He pulls back to meet your gaze, "I want you. I... always have and I've been hiding it. But I can't anymore."

"Take me then, Seungcheol," It isn't the most romantic thing to say but that is all your lust clouded brain can manage as you keep grinding yourself against him. You feel his hard on poke your belly and unlike your lover, you really can't wait anymore. You need him now.

Seungcheol keeps looking at you, too busy studying your features rather than doing something about the wetness between your legs and you're about to tell him to do something when he speaks, "I love you, ____. I'm sorry for the hurt I've caused you. Let me make it up to you."

Great. Now you're horny and emotional.

His confession brings tears to your eyes but your neediness is growing so you pull his face down closer to yours and whisper, "You can start doing that by making me cum. And then you can stay. With me. Forever. How about that?" A mischievous grin kisses his face, "I'd love that sweetheart."

You grin in happiness not wasting anymore time as you reconnect your lips with his.

a/n 2: Whew~ a whopping 15k+! I can't believe I wrote something this huge. But it was well worth it! I just hate this damn app like I don't understand?? I've seen ppl post fics with 40k+ words yet tumb1r says I've reached 250 blocks like what?? Anyhow, I really really hope you enjoyed reading this baby cuz I've been working on it for soooo long! If you did please reblog and share as always your feedbacks are highly appreciated so please leave them in the comments or my ask box!

[mersuperwholocked-lowlife]

Not Blood But Family

Word Count: 1,922

Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel (brief), Sam Winchester (mentioned), OC Character, Reader

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: angst, some slight fluff

A/N: me: hey i should post at least once a week   also me: hey guys i’m back from a random ass hiatus

A/N 2: enjoy the dog poop

A/N 3: lisa’s daughter btw

Masterlist

You shot your eyes around the darkened room, squinting as you tried to make out any figure, seeing if there was anyone who was being held captive with you. Unfortunately for you, you were all alone. You could barely make out the bruises on your wrists, the rope burns caused by being tied up for days. 

“Hey!” you yelled.

“Hey! I know you can hear me! What the hell do you want from me?!” you screamed as loud as you could, more annoyed than scared.  

Ever since you found both your mother and younger brother dead, you’d given up any emotion you could show, mainly numb inside.  

“Ugh,” you groaned softly, laying your head back against the wall as you leaned against it, closing your eyes for a moment. 

Everyone always warned you, don’t hitchhike, and now you’ve learned your lesson.

---

“Did you just take a picture of me?” you squinted your eyes, sitting chained up to a chair as you saw a bright light flash.

“Freak,” you scoffed.

He ignored your comments, grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling it up as you grunted, clenching your jaw.

 He just chuckled, pushing you back. You could feel the blood trickling from your forehead as you breathed heavily.

“If you’re trying to sell me, no one’s gonna buy me. I’m a pain in the ass,” you struggled against your chains.

You were met with a blank expression from the man, having not said a single word to you. 

“If you’re planning on killing me, at least give me the decency of some good conversation,” you laid back in your chair.

You heard his phone ring as he turned his back to you, picking it up.

“Yes, sir. I have (Y/N) with me. I’ve sent a picture to you to send to Dean Winchester,” you poked your head up, hearing an unfamiliar name before be hung up.

“Who’s Dean Winchester,” you asked.

“You’ll find out soon enough... or not,” he shrugged.

You could feel a slight panic in your chest as you stiffened, seeing him walk towards you while clutching a knife.

“Keep that away from me,” you tried and tried to pull your chains, trying to stay away as he grabbed you, pressing the knife against your shoulder.

“Let's have some fun.”

---

“Hey. Hey!” you groaned as you squinted your eyes, hearing someone calling your name in a distance.

“Wake up, (Y/N), please,” you felt him out a hand on your shoulder, cutting open the ropes tying you down.

“Hmm, who are you?” you winced softly, your body ached from all the miniature cuts all over it.

“I’m… I’m here to help,” Dean said. He debated whether or not to tell who he was, pushing your arm around his shoulder.

“How do you know who I am?” you groaned. You blinked your eyes, fading in and out of consciousness.

“Just stay quiet. Come on,” you breathed heavily as you took a step forward, falling onto him completely.

“(Y/N)?!”

---

“Holy shit!” you groaned, sitting up in the bed as you looked around cautiously.

“(Y/N),” you tensed slightly as Dean wrapped his arms around you tightly.

You felt a sense of relief washing over you, feeling a safety that you haven't felt in a long time as you exhaled softly.

“W-Wait, who are you?” you asked.

He stood up, sitting in front of you at the side of your bed.

“You don't remember me, but I knew your mom, a-and your brother,” your face dropped, frowning as you scooted a little away from him.

“Who are you,” you asked again.

“My name is Dean Winchester,” he said.

You thought back for a minute, trying to think where you heard that name before.

You remembered, hearing the man saying his name.

“That… guy mentioned you,” you started.

“Well, I have some bad blood with his boss and they were trying to use you to get to me,” he explained.

You stayed quiet for a moment, before talking again.

“Why me? I don’t even know you,” you shook your head.

His face dropped slightly, looking at you as you ran your fingers through your hair, slightly nervous.

“My friend is coming, everything will be cleared up, okay?” Dean asked.

You nodded, wrapped your arms around your legs as you exhaled sharply, laying your head on your lap.

You heard the noise of something fluttering, as you frowned, looking up. You jumped back, seeing a man appear in front of you.

You could feel your heart racing as the man reached two fingers on your forehead, his eyes glowing blue.

You felt a sense of warmth over you, feeling warmth in your body as it healed. You gasped softly, seeing visions with Dean inside your head. Everything from the years that past came back to you as you pulled away from Castiel, pushing yourself off the bed.

“Dean,” you remembered.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he took a step forward, walking to you.

You shook your head, stepping backward. He turned his head to the side, slightly in shock.

“You’re Castiel,” you said.

“So then where’s Sam,” you asked softly.

“Sam’s at this place we live at. This bunker,” Dean replied.

You continued to stand there quietly, running your fingers through your hair as you turned your head away from Dean.

“I heard that… Lisa’s gone,” you tensed as your mom’s name fell from his mouth.

“Yeah, so is Ben,” you kept your emotions of both anger and grief hidden.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry-” he started.

“Shut up,” you glared at him.

“(Y/N), I-” he tried to speak again, only for you to cut him off once more.

“I said shut up, Dean. Thanks for the help, I’ll be on my way,” you began heading for the door as Dean stopped you.

“Why are you acting like this?” he asked.

“Like what?” you rolled your eyes.

“Why are you acting so cold? So different?”  he crossed his arms.

“Don’t start with me, Dean,” you scoffed, crossing your arms.

Dean motioned to Castiel, telling him to leave as he nodded.

“What happened?” he asked.

“What happened? My family is dead, Dean,” you spat.

“I know, I-I’m sorry-” 

“Saying sorry won't bring them back. It was your choice to leave, you had to know that this was a possibility,” you crossed your arms as you glared at Dean.

“The only reason I left was because I wanted to keep the three of you safe. I couldn't have done that if you guys were with me,” he tried to explain while you kept ignoring his words.

“You don't owe me an explanation. You’re not my dad you don't owe me anything,” you could see the look in his eyes fade away.

“I know I’m not your real dad, but that doesn't mean we're not family,” he started.

“You're just a guy that lived with us for a year, who had a past,” you knew you were hurting him, and hurting yourself while at it. 

You couldn't let your guard down and you knew it. Even if Dean was there for you when you needed someone the most, when you had boy problems, school problems, things somehow your mom didn't understand, he always helped you. With all the late nights you spent crying, trying to convince yourself that you don’t need help, he was always there by your side. 

Not that you would ever admit that. Dean was the only person your mom dated who cared about you and Ben.

“You know that it’s deeper than that, (Y/N). I’m sorry I left, I’m sorry I erased your memory of me. I was just trying to keep you safe,” he said.

“Stop apologizing,” you shook your head.

“Will you come back with me?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“W-What?” you were slightly taken aback by his question, not sure why you were so surprised.

“We have a home now. A sort of home, it’s a bunker. But we live there, and there's more than enough room for you to live with us,” he explained.

“Are you… even after everything I just said?” you frowned.

“Yes. You're still 17, you still, technically need a legal guardian. I know that you’re not happy with me, but I’m gonna fix that. Come live with us,” he said.

“What if I say no?” you raised an eyebrow.

“I know you’re not going to. You hate being alone,” he replied.

“I’ve been alone for a year, I can-”

“I’m sorry you had to be alone for so long. Please, come with me,” he begged again.

You could feel your eyes watering slightly as you frowned, biting your lip nervously.

“Dean, please stop,” you wiped your face with your hands, closing your eyes as you took a deep breath.

“Stop what?” he asked, frowning slightly.

“Why do you care about me?” you whispered softly.

“What do you mean?” he crossed his arms, taking a step closer to you.

You looked up at him, your eyes red and watery as his face dropped.

“I’m not… I’m not your kid o-or anything, why do you always try to take care of me?” you closed your eyes, feeling a tear escape down your cheek.

“(Y/N), listen to me,” he put his hand on your cheek, wiping your tear away. 

“I know I’m not blood, kid, but I’m still your dad, you’re still my kid. Nothing’s gonna change that, no matter what. I love you so much, kid. I’m still your family and you’re still mine. I would never leave you, I-I would never hurt you,” he continued to stroke your cheek, while you kept your tears at bay.  

“My real dad didn’t want me,” you whispered.

“That’s cuz he’s an idiot. Come here,” he wrapped his arm around you tightly as you shut your eyes, letting your tears fall freely while you let out a shaky cry, holding onto him tightly.

He kissed your forehead softly, then rested his chin on the top of your head. 

“I got you, you’re safe now,” he said softly.

“You’re okay now.”

---

You shot up in your bed, looking around cautiously as your breathing was labored. You looked around, before remembering that you were at the bunker as you let out a breath of relief. 

Maybe I should tell Dean

No stop bothering him and just try to sleep

Nightmares weren’t uncommon for you, whether it was about Lisa and Ben, or about any event that happened to you in the past year. You were alone, nothing was ever easy, and most people were the absolute worst. 

You found yourself trying to stop your hands from shaking as you rested your head on your lap, hearing the door open as you looked up.

“Dean?” you asked. 

“What are you doing up? I thought you went to sleep hours ago,” he sat down next to you on the bed. 

“Well, I did, it’s just…” your voice drifted off, trying to figure out how to explain your nightmares without Dean having pity on you. He already gave you a home, a place to feel safe.

“Your nightmares?” he asked.

“How did you know?” you frowned.

“Because it’s normal. Come on, I’m staying with you tonight,” he laid down in the bed, wrapping his arm around you in a protective manner. 

You yawned softly, snuggling up into Dean’s side as you closed your eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep. 

“Thank you, Dad.”

Dean smiled softly, kissing your forehead.

“Anything for you, kiddo.”

[arvandus]

CONGRATS ON 500 OMG 🎉🎉🎉 IT'S MORE THAN DESERVED!!!!

Can I put in a request for All Might, #35 with a fluff ending?

Sooo.... I’m gonna be honest, I was so excited when I saw this request because.... angsty dialogue with a happy ending?  That shit is my jam.  And with All Might?  Perfect.

 A couple things before we get started: I went with All Might in his skinny form, cuz the prompt lends itself to that (so sorry if you were hoping for buff Might!) Also, took the artistic liberty of giving reader a healing quirk for this one called ‘Cat’s Cradle.’ You’ll (hopefully) see why it’s called that when you read it…

 I hope you enjoy, and sorry it’s taken so long to get this out!

 Um... Warnings: Blood (sorry, it’s Yagi... kinda a given), angst + happy ending

 Word Count: 3,223 and no regrets!

35. “I can’t sit here and watch you destroy yourself.”

 There was a familiar knock at your door, and in an instant you knew exactly who it was.  Your teeth clenched, your jaw stiffened.

 You weren’t going to answer it. Not this time.

 Knock knock knock

 You waited, frozen, unwilling to move, yet listening intently.  The sound of wet, guttural coughing reverberated through the wooden barrier.

 God damn it.

 When it came to a certain world-famous hero, it didn’t really take much for you to give up your resolve.  You made your way to the door and peeked through the peephole.  Yagi supported himself with one hand against the door frame as his other hand clutched at his chest.  The front of his shirt was bunched in his grasp, blood coating his pale hands and the white fabric beneath it.  A curse fell from your lips as your hands unlatched the lock on your door, swinging it wide open.

 Yagi looked up at you with grateful blue eyes, sunken deep into dark pits. His wild, blond hair stuck to his ashen face with sweat, his brow furrowed in pain.

 “Hey,” he greeted with a lighthearted grin.

 “Jesus Christ, Yagi…” you growled.

 You grabbed him by the elbow and ushered him into your space before closing and locking the door behind you.

 There was no time to rush him into the bathroom like you normally did.  Instead, you had him sit in a dining chair and began to peel off his blood-soaked shirt.  Just as the fabric lifted off his head, another round of coughing doubled him over, blood splattering the tiled floor.

 “Shit…” Yagi muttered.

 “Don’t worry about it.” You replied.  But it was hardly convincing.  Your tone was cold and hard with frustration.

 You weren’t mad about the floor, though… honestly, you couldn’t have cared less. What mattered was the man currently looking like he was on Death’s doorstep.  It pained you to see him so clearly suffering, his skin covered in sweat and blood even as he tried to smile reassuringly at you.  It didn’t matter how bright his smile was; it held little weight against the scar carved into his side, or the atrophy that stretched over his bones.

 Your heart couldn’t handle much more of this.

 Gently, you pressed your hands against the front of Yagi’s shoulders until he was sitting up, back straight.  Even without his buff form, Yagi was tall.  With your body so close to his, you could feel his ragged breath on your cheek, hear the air rattling from his lungs like leaves.  You couldn’t help but look him in the eyes then, and a faint flush crept across his sallow cheeks that made your own skin feel hot.

 “Stay still.” You instructed.

 You carefully placed one hand in front of his chest and the other behind his back, your fingertips hovering over his body.  Glowing, translucent-white threads emanated from your fingers, passing through him to connect together deep within his lungs. Slowly, you began weaving, fingers dancing and flicking like a game of Cat’s Cradle as your quirk stitched and healed the damaged tissue.  It was painstaking work, what was left of his lungs already in poor condition, and the more he pushed himself past his limits, the harder it was to repair what he’d repeatedly broken.  Sweat beaded your brow as you worked, your hands moving meticulously.  One wrong move, one wrong stitch…

 But you’d done this countless times over the years.  It was nearly second nature to you now… you knew his body nearly as well as your own.  You stared at the glistening red staining from his lips to his chest as you worked, your vision blurred as you focused on your quirk’s senses.

 Slowly, you could hear Yagi’s ragged breaths begin to improve.  His gasps for air filled deeper into his chest, expanding his rib cage.  His exhales followed clean and steady.  The tension in his face relaxed, his brow smoothing over as he closed his eyes.

 Finally, you broke the connection and slumped into your own chair, exhaustion overtaking you.  It was far from perfect, but it was the best you could do given his level of deterioration. You watched Yagi take a few more deep, experimental breaths before he looked up at you.  You opened your mouth to scold him, your brow furrowed into a frown, but froze as soon as you saw his gentle expression become guarded as he prepared for your verbal onslaught.

 An ache filled your throat where your words were supposed to be, and you closed your mouth.  How easy it was to revert back to old habits when you were together.  The two of you were broken; the same old wounds seeping red because they were never given a chance to properly heal.

 You weren’t going to go through it again; not this time.  You were too tired.  And it wasn’t like it made much difference anyway.  It didn’t matter how much you begged, cried, or yelled.  Yagi wouldn’t stop.  He couldn’t stop.

Silence fell between you as you both stared at each other, the space between you feeling empty. No doubt your hurt was evident in your face, your body language, your eyes.  And if there was one thing you knew Yagi hated, it was seeing you upset.  He wanted to hold you.  You could see it in the way his body leaned towards you of its own accord, arms shifting just the slightest bit closer to your torso.  You could see the words on the edge of his tongue too, suspended between parted, bloodstained lips.

 Don’t. A part of you begged.  You didn’t want his comfort.  You didn’t want his excuses.

 Just as his mouth opened wider to speak, you averted your eyes and shifted your body away from him.  It was difficult – painful, as if you were a plant being pulled from the earth, fragile roots breaking in the soil.

 “You should go clean up.” You said quietly.

 Another long pause greeted you before he finally spoke.  “Yeah.  Okay.” He stood.  “Do you still have my clothes?”

 “Yeah. Dresser, bottom drawer.” You replied.

 Yagi excused himself, and a moment later you heard the sound of running water in the bathroom.  You stared at the bloodied floor and the stained shirt balled up on your table.  Nausea filled you, twisting your gut.

 Quickly, you grabbed your cleaning supplies and set to work, watching as the blood soaked into the white paper towels like an inkblot test.  Each fresh bloom of crimson spelled the foreshadowing you tried to erase, until you were wiping and scrubbing at the floor in frantic anger, tears dripping from your lashes.  It felt futile.  No matter how many paper towels you used, you always seemed to need more.

 By the end of it, the trash can was full, the roll noticeably smaller than when you had started.  You added Yagi’s ruined shirt to the top of the pile and stashed the bin away out of sight beneath your kitchen sink.  You’d take it out as soon as he left.  

 You could still hear the shower running in your bathroom, so you went to your living room and slouched onto your couch, waiting for Yagi to finish.

 You had hoped that cleaning up the mess would help reduce the severity from the situation, help you mask your growing fears.  But it was too late.  All you could see was red.  The red on his lips, the red on your floor, the red in the paper towels...

 The emotions you had hoped you could suppress until he left began to crest in you, and you vacated the living room in favor of the privacy of your bedroom. Maybe if you could let a few tears out during his shower, then you’d have enough composure until he left.  You curled onto your bed, your pillow clutched tightly in your arms as you buried your face into the plush fabric.

 For so long you’d held out, hoping that one day he’d understand.  That he’d see the damage to his body, see how quickly he was deteriorating.  That he’d see the fear in your eyes every time he showed up on your doorstep needing your help.  You’d hoped that your countless conversations would eventually amount to something, your words secretly unravelling the veil he chose to wear over his eyes as he fought battle after battle.

 It was that pesky, lingering hope that had been keeping you going.  Hope that eventually, there’d be an end to it all. Hope that Yagi could finally stop killing himself for the sake of the greater good.  Hope that the two of you could eventually pick up where you’d fallen and live a happy life.

 And it was hope that made you open the door for him each time.

 But now, that hope was finally gone.  You were done trying.  You realized it as soon as you’d finally given up talking to him – finally given up trying to save him.

 An emptiness took its place, cold and heavy.  Its absence gave no place for your love to nest, no place for your dreams to take root.  All you had left was the heavy, gut-wrenching reality that eventually, inevitably, you’d lose him.  Either he’d die in battle, or worse… He’d show up at your doorstep, his body beyond repair, and the only thing you’d be able to do is hold him as his lungs filled with blood.

 Your chest constricted so tightly at that single, horrible thought that you couldn’t even breathe, your lungs burning in a frantic need for oxygen.  There was nothing in the world worse than that single moment coming to life.  But you couldn’t erase it, couldn’t run from it.  It sat there, as real and permanent as the blood-soaked rags lurking in your kitchen trash.  You tried to suck air into your lungs, but the knot in your throat didn’t allow it, a suffocating sob lodged like a rock.  Your arms tightened around your pillow.

 You were going to lose him.  And there was nothing you could do about it.

 Grief settled itself onto your shoulders, heavy as an anchor.  Grief for a future that could never be. Grief for the death of a love that never fully had a chance to bloom. Grief for a man who would eventually slip through your fingers to become bones and dust, leaving nothing but the ache of his memory upon your soul.  You buckled under its weight, the heavy sob finally spilling from your parted lips as tears soaked into your pillow.

 You didn’t even notice as Yagi entered the room to find you curled up in your bed, sobbing.

 “Hey…” He whispered as he rushed over.

 His arms were around you in an instant, pulling you up against his bony chest, your head tucked under his chin.

 “Hey, hey…” he soothed as he held you.

 You leaned into his embrace, letting his presence envelop you.  Maybe you should have fought it; pushed him away instead of letting yourself indulge.  But it felt too good, too safe, and your arms tightened around him selfishly as you cried.  It brought back familiar memories of a time when the two of you had been happy, surrendering to your feelings for each other, before it all fell apart.  

 God, how you missed this.  Love had never been the issue for the two of you.  No, that was the easy part.  But it wasn’t enough.  Not when all of Japan rested on his shoulders, leaving little space for you no matter how deeply he cared for you.

 He held you as you cried, silently holding the space for you, his arms a safety net for all of the emotional weight you couldn’t carry alone.  Your tears soaked his shirt, your arms wound tight around his ribs, as you wished for nothing more than the power to change what was.

 “I don’t want to lose you…” you sobbed.

 “You won’t.” He replied.

 His words were meant to be comforting, but their effect was the opposite, making your heart ache even more at his inability to address the issue head on. He always was an optimist when it came to things of the heart.  It was part of what made him such a great hero.  But optimism wouldn’t save either of you here.

 You pulled away from him slightly, already missing the closeness of him.

 “Don’t…” you pleaded.  “Don’t do that.”

 Yagi looked down at your tear-stained face.  “Do what?”

 Quietly, you grabbed a tissue from the tissue box on your nightstand and wiped at your nose.  The material crumpled into a ball within your fist and you stared at it, your vision already blurring with fresh tears.

 “Don’t try to give me hope.” You replied.

 Yagi stared with wide eyes before withdrawing his arms. His expression fell, wounded by the truth in your honesty.  

 You struggled not to let it sway you.

 “I… I can’t keep doing this.” You whispered as you wiped the last of the tears from your cheeks. “Every time you show up on my doorstep, you’re worse than before. I won’t always be able to help you.”

 He watched you in silence for a moment before looking away in shame, his fingers interlaced in front of him as he leaned forward.  “I know.” He replied.

 Regret filled you at rejecting him.  You wanted him to touch you, to hold you. To have his presence surround you. To feel him alive beneath you, whole and here.  But you had to set a boundary.  You had to stop following him, stop hoping… if you didn’t, it would destroy you.

 Instead, you sat with your arms wrapped around yourself, a pitiful defense against the familiar allure of the man next to you.

 “You keep wanting me to save you, Yagi… but how can I save you if you won’t save yourself?”  You looked at him then, your eyes locking with his.  “You keep choosing to fight, to push yourself well past your limits. And you keep coming here, because you know that I still love you and won’t turn you away.”

 Yagi sucked air into his lungs, his posture going stiff at your words. You were right.  He knew you were right.  His inability to counter your statement was evidence enough of that.  Disappointment and guilt filled you as you broke eye contact to look at your shaking hands.

 “But… I can’t sit here and watch you destroy yourself. And you shouldn’t expect me to.” You whispered.

 The words were heavy, filling the empty space between you with their finality. You refused to look at Yagi; you knew he’d be hurt.  You knew his shoulders would slump in defeat, his mouth pulled into a deep frown.  Guilt filled you, making your hands fidget and your shoulders tense as you waited for his response.

 “You’re right.”

 His words were a whisper and your eyes snapped up to stare at him, bewilderment on your face.  He’d never said those words to you before... not about this.  His mask had cracked, and you could finally see his emotions flashing across his face as he struggled to transform them into words.  Remorse. Panic. Love. Fear.

 He cleared his throat and repeated himself.  “You’re right.  I have asked a lot of you.” His brow furrowed.  “I don’t know why I keep coming back.  I guess I just get… homesick.”

 Your breath hitched in your throat as your heart pounded like a battle drum in your chest.  You opened your mouth to respond, but the words were stolen from you when Yagi’s eyes met yours, deep and familiar.

 “I miss you.” He stated.

 “Yagi...” You cupped his cheek in your hand.  He leaned into it briefly, before removing your hand from his face and holding it within his own.

 “Listen... I... didn’t intend to come here for your help.  Not this time.  But you know how these things are...” He explained.  “I was on my way over when a villain showed up, and...” Yagi’s words faltered as he saw the expression on your face begin to fall.  He was doing it again, getting caught up in his work, making excuses... hurting you.

 He cleared his throat. “It’s... not important.  The point is, is that there was something I wanted to tell you.  But... I’m not sure it’ll make much of a difference.” He averted his gaze, his brows pulled together pensively.

 Your own brow furrowed in response, confused by his ambiguity.  A part of you was hesitant... you’d truly felt that you were done, that you’d reached your limit.  But could tell that whatever it was, it was important to him, and it was something that he wanted to share specially with you.

 “Just... tell me.” You said quietly, as you emotionally braced yourself.

 His blue eyes looked back at you, and he took a steady breath.  “Alright...”  He took your other hand in his own.  Now he held both of your hands between you as he sat with you on your bed.  “I... found a successor.”

 Your eyes widened, as you felt overcome with dizziness.  You were lightheaded, suddenly floating on his words that still lingered in the air like morning mist.

 “W... what??” you choked out.  Your heart pounded wildly as your hands gripped his, the warm, firm touch barely grounding you.

 “I found a successor.” He repeated, a slow smile starting to spread across his lips at your dumbfounded reaction.

 A smile began to spread across your lips.  “Does that mean... you’re retiring?”

 “Yeah-”

 Your lips were on his before he could say anything more, your arms flinging themselves around his neck.  He laughed against your lips as he returned the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into his lap.

 You pulled away for a moment and stared into his eyes. They sparkled with mirth, blue as a summer’s day.

 “Well, that went better than I expected...” Yagi teased.

 “Tell me it’s true.  You’re really done?” you asked.

 “Well, I still have to train my apprentice... he’s got a big heart and a strength in him that I don’t think he even realizes he has yet.  But it’s going to take some time for him to learn how to wield all that power.”  Yagi’s expression turned from happy to serious.  “And... I have to admit that I can’t retire just yet.”

 You opened your mouth to protest, but he covered your lips with his finger.

 “Hang on a second, firecracker.” He grinned.  “I will retire. But I still have remnants of One For All in me, and I need to protect this kid until he’s able to master that power.  I’ll still be All Might until that last spark leaves me. I’m sure you understand that much, right? I have a responsibility to him.”

 You brushed aside his long bangs, relishing in the feel of the golden locks between your fingers.  Of course, you understood.  You’d never expected it to be immediate anyway.  But at least things were in motion.  All he had to do was survive.  And if Yagi was good at anything, it was surviving.

 You had to believe in him.

 “Yeah...” you whispered.  “I understand.”

 Now it was Yagi’s turn to be surprised. “Really?”

 You smiled and kissed him again.  “Really.”

 You had hope.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Unfurl and Fly

Prompt: Hello! I've been meaning to request this for so long but, you'd never posted any Sanders Sides fanfics till recently so I finally get to ask! = D

This is simply a request, but could you possibly to a Hurt/Comfort and Angsty o ed! Virgil fanfiction? Where he hides his wings for whichever reason you want- And it's *painful*, and eventually his wings get to damaged from constantly being hidden and self-groomed and other stuff of the sort and the others find out either accidentally cuz Virgil is in Too Much Pain, or Virgil reaches out- Just, take creative liberties with it! (Platonic LAMP all around- Or you can decide if it's romantic! Idc, whichever you prefer-) = D You can decide whether the others have wings or not, or if it's only the 'dark sides', or no one except Virgil, etc etc. I just have craved this for So Long in your writing specifically!

Whether you decide you would like to do this idea of not, that's fine! ^^ Just thought I'd suggest it! Thank you very much! = D - moonscar

Thanks for the request, babe!

Read on Ao3 The sequel: Soar

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, found family babes let’s go

Warnings: self-hatred, some implied self-harm, self-destructive behavior, poor Virgil is not having a good time, y’all. Sympathetic Janus, sympathetic Remus

Word Count: 7,932

Out of all of the Sides to have wings, why the fuck did it have to be Virgil?

 Come on, it’s not like it even fits with Anxiety, being able to fly? Having these big fucking things sticking out of his back? No thank you, that’s more literally anyone else’s thing! Roman would love it, he’s sure, soaring to great heights and all that. Patton’s the closest one of them to actually being an angel. Logan could use them to fly away from the bullshit.

 But nope. Virgil’s the one stuck with them. Isn’t that just fantastic.

Virgil grunts and pulls his hoodie on tighter, zipping it up over the sports bra. He growls and reaches back to tug the wings into place under the layers of fabric, hunching his back so the others don’t notice that there’s conspicuously more mass on his back than there’s supposed to be. Thank god he’s already known for baggy clothes.

 He has to walk carefully. Too much jostling and the wings’ll pop loose. He leans on the stairs as much as he can before making his way to the back of the couch. He looks around. No one else is here.

 Which would make sense, seeing as it’s three am.

 Virgil winces when something twinges in his shoulder blade. His ears strain to pick up the sounds of anyone moving; no floorboards creak, no doors open or close, no sinks or anything else. Shit. Fuck, it’s happening when he’s breathing now too.

  Shit.

 Wincing, Virgil unzips his hoodie and slowly, slowly starts to lift his shirt up, sliding his hands under the material to try and—

 A door opens upstairs and in a flash, Virgil’s hoodie is fully zipped up and his hands are back in his pockets.

 Patton walks downstairs, rubbing his eyes. He blinks lazily and turns to go to the kitchen.

 “Patton?”

 Virgil winces when Patton startles horribly, whirling around until his eyes land on Virgil, perched on the back of the couch.

 “You scared me, kiddo,” he pants, leaning against the counter before forcing a smile onto his face, “what’re you doing up?”

 Virgil shrugs, trying to hide his flinch when one of his wings snag against something. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

 “Aw, I’m sorry to hear that.” Patton tilts his head. “Anything I can do to help?”

 Patton…Patton might be nice.

 Patton would help, right? He—he’d care enough to help. Wouldn’t he? Patton had tried, so hard, when Virgil was first…around, just to make him comfortable, help him fit in, make him feel at…at home.

 But—but Patton is the kind of person who would do anything to help someone and Virgil…Virgil doesn’t want that either.

 Patton would see his wings—his ugly, dirty, huge wings—and look at Virgil with so much pity that he would be forced to help out. And the thought of hands in his wings was bad enough. The thought of unwilling hands in his wings was even worse.

 Not Patton.

 Virgil smiles, tightlipped in the dark. “No thanks, padre. ’S just the job.”

 It’s a little sad how quickly Patton nods. “I trust you, kiddo, if you say you can do it I believe you.”

 A sigh of relief lessens the ache in his shoulder blades for just a moment, then Virgil narrows his eyes. “What’re you doing up right now?”

 “Needed a drink!” And sure enough, Patton goes into the kitchen and grabs a glass. “You want one?”

 “…no, no I’m good.”

 “Suit yourself.” Once the glass is full, Patton yawns, his jaw cracking, before he walks over to ruffle Virgil’s hair. “You gonna try and sleep a little?”

 “Maybe.”

 “G’night, kiddo.”

 “Night.”

 Once Patton vanishes back up the stairs, Virgil holds completely still until he hears the door click. As soon as it does, he slumps, burying his head in his hands, ignoring the bolt of white-hot pain that shoots through him. That was too fucking close.

What was he thinking? He can’t be here, not now, not while they hurt so much.

 He sinks back to his room, biting his lip to stifle the noise when his wings slip under the bra. Now he won’t be able to get it off without hurting them—fuck why is this is fucking life?

 He has to go slow, agonizing second by agonizing second, until the bra lies crumpled at the foot of his bed and he’s panting, sweat beading on his forehead and two new gashes in his lip. He takes one shuddering breath, then two, then—

 “Come on, you assholes,” he mutters, “just…fucking cooperate for me.”

 His wings creak and groan as he unfurls them, stretching them out until his throat protests with the effort of holding back a scream. He bound them wrong this time. One of the tendons is twisted, slipped over the bone on his right wing and every flex threatens to rip it entirely. His eyes, screwed tight from the effort, blink away tears, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

 He forgot to cover it again.

 Virgil winces when he sees the state of his wings. The primaries aren’t lying flat, the secondaries are all bent out of shape, he can see the loose feathers stuck in the rest of the mess, and his oil gland must be clogged again. He can hear everything rasping together, the creaking, and everything. He—he has to try again.

 Slowly, he sits down in front of the mirror, crossing his legs and sitting up as much as he can. He holds his wings out and winces at the sharp yank. Flexing his fingers, he reaches out with his hand and starts combing through his feathers. He can’t get the right angle no matter how much he twists his wrists and trying to hold the wing in place doesn’t work either. But he’s able to pull a few of the loose feathers out. It doesn’t matter that he plucks out several of the remaining healthy ones as well.

 Alright. Step one done.

 Virgil braces himself and twists, reaching out quickly for his wing before his back pulls away from him. He grabs it with two outstretched hands and can’t stop the cry of pain when another sizzling bolt races down his spine. He can barely hold onto it for three seconds before he has to let go. A roll of nausea makes him retch, hunched over himself, tears springing anew to his eyes.

  Pathetic.

  Can’t even clean yourself properly.

  Worthless.

  Useless.

  Dirty.

 The room rings with shuddering breaths as his chest heaves, the pain still zinging through his wings. He can’t. He can’t do it. He can’t clean them properly, not now, maybe not ever. He fucking bound them wrong, like an idiot and now he has to sleep on his stomach and if someone walks in they’ll see them and he won’t be able to bind them properly if they don’t heal and—

 The fucking worst thing about his wings is they always try and make things better. They twitch whenever he’s near someone he likes or bristle when he feels upset. And when he’s alone, all by himself, about to have a panic attack, they always try and hug him.

 So Virgil cries there, on the floor, surrounded by his ugly, dirty, painful wings.

 He sleeps on the floor that night too, a few pillows here and there to keep him from pressing his face directly into the ground, wings as outstretched as he can until he can ignore the pain long enough to fall into a fitful, uneasy rest. When he wakes, the joints are still tender and he curses, knowing if he tries to bind them again it’ll just get worse. That means a day of staying in his room, which by itself wouldn’t be awful except that the others would know.

 When Virgil was alone, he could have his wing day all by himself and no one would care. He could stay shut up in his room without fear that someone would come and knock on the door, wondering where he was, if he was okay, did he need anything? He’d tried, he’d tried so hard to convince himself that alone was better, alone was safe, alone protected him.

 But the others were magnets, always pulling him closer, closer, closer until he was bound within them. How was he supposed to pull away from that warmth, that care, when every time he was close to it his wings reached out? He had to start binding them when he first appeared to Thomas, yes, but it wasn’t until recently that he had to start binding them. Because they would reach for the others. All the time.

 He couldn’t have that.

 So he tied them up.

 And it was worth it. It was worth being able to stand next to Roman, to see that smile up close. It was worth being able to stand next to Logan, to hear him talk and explain everything he could ever want to know. It was worth being able to stand next to Patton, to feel warm and safe.

 The pain was worth it, even if it didn’t always feel like it.

 The others couldn’t know about his wings. If they did, they might—they would—

 Only dark sides had animal traits. If they knew Virgil had wings—

 Virgil shakes his head and groans into the pillow. He can’t go back. Not after what he’s done. He can’t—he won’t—there isn’t—

 He barely remembers being small. He remembers being scared, being afraid, fumbling in the dark, but he almost never remembers being small. Small enough where he didn’t know yet to be afraid to ask someone for help, when hands in his wings weren’t tied up with problems or intimacy or care or obligation. Small enough where he could cuddle into the lap of someone who loved him and not have to worry.

 He remembers getting older and being scared, huddling in the dark with the others.

 He remembers rubbing his hand over shedding scales. He remembers helping rub away the twitches in newly formed tentacles. He remembers hands, hands in his wings.

 Those memories are locked away, behind bars Virgil won’t let himself bring down.

 A knock on the door startles him out of his thoughts.

 “Yeah?”

  Fuck, does his throat sound like that?

 “Virgil?” Logan. “Are you alright?”

 “What the fuck is an alright,” Virgil mutters, pushing himself up off the ground and wincing, before raising his voice, “I’m fine, Logan.”

 “You didn’t come down for breakfast—“ shit— “and we were concerned.”

 “Didn’t feel like coming down,” Virgil tries, aiming for nonchalance and failing miserably, “but I’m all good here.”

 “Are you certain?”

 Logan…Logan would help.

 Logan would understand things from a logical perspective. He would be the most business-like about it, just doing what needed to be done and leaving. He might find it…interesting? He would get it over with.

 He would…get it over with.

 A human figure having wings is illogical. Virgil doesn’t want to be stared at like some sort of…object. And…and…Virgil wants to be cared for, not treated like a chore. The desire burns a shameful hole in his gut, the craving for soft words and gentle touches accompanied by flaming cheeks and a roll of disgust. He doesn’t think he’d be able to hold back the tears at being treated so…coldly, even if it would be better for him.

 Not Logan.

 “I’m sure,” Virgil grits out, “thanks, though.”

 “Of course. Will we see you for dinner?”

 Swallows before his tongue chokes him. “Dunno.”

 “Very well.”

 He hears Logan walk away and cringes. That was awful. But he’s made a commitment now, so he has to get ready for dinner. Four hours should be enough.

 Sitting up is a slow process and every few moments he has to stop when his vision grows spotty. He flexes his wings, watches the shape twist back for a few seconds before he has to relax it again. The ache has dulled slightly and maybe he can try again.

 Raising his arms straight above his head, muscles straining, shaking, Virgil bites his lip and holds for one, two, three seconds until he cries out and lets them drop. Nope. No way. If he can’t even do that, he’s not gonna be able to pull the sports bra over his head, much less get his wings tucked into position. He winces and looks around for the belt.

 He hates using the belt but it is easier on his shoulders. Instead of tucking the whole folded-up mess into the sports bra, he folds his wings up as small as they’ll go and wraps a belt around them, straining behind him and valiantly ignoring how much it hurts until he’s sure he’s got it around the joints. He lets go with a gasp, rolling his shoulders experimentally. It still aches, yes, but much less, and as he turns to the side, if he just wears a big enough shirt, with his hoodie on, no one will notice.

 That means he can use the rest of the time to get used to it.

 By the time he walks down to dinner, the others are waiting, Roman’s face lighting up in a huge smile as he sees Virgil round the top of the stairs.

 “There’s our little Stormcloud!” He waves Virgil over to the chair next to him. “Haven’t seen your gloomy face all day, I’ve missed it!”

 Virgil snorts. “You’ve just missed seeing another version of you, Princey.”

 “Can you blame me, Hot Topic?” Roman winks. “We’re gorgeous.”

 “The fact that we all share a face should not be surprising to you,” Logan remarks as he closes his book.

 “Aw, you think I’m hot.”

 “Pasta!” Patton places the pot on the table and Virgil winces when the sound makes his wings twitch. He doesn’t catch Roman’s concerned look. “Who wants what?”

 “Just olive oil for me.”

 “You got it, Logan.”

 “I’ve got mine,” Roman announces, sweeping half of the condiments on the table toward him and combining them in…a way.

 “…jeez,” Virgil mutters.

 Patton rolls his eyes fondly as Logan and Roman start idly bickering about the appropriate condiments for pasta. A steaming bowl slides to a stop in front of him and without pausing, Roman passes Virgil the jar of sauce.

 Virgil watches the jar slide to a stop in front of him, blinking up at Roman who just gives him a quick wink and goes right back to bickering with Logan. Patton giggles as Logan pinches the bridge of his nose, obviously trying to hide his smile as Princey grins. It’s a game now, to see which one of them will break character first. Princey’s the actor, but Logan’s got an incredible deadpan face. And when he’s in a playful mood the two of them can go at it for hours. Virgil and Patton just sit back to watch the show.

 As it turns out, both of them break character at the same time tonight, Logan stumbling over a word, and Princey accidentally slurring Logan’s name as he tries to come up with a comeback. Logan immediately tries to hide his smile behind his hand only to snort when Princey screws his face up in protest.

 “How did I manage to do that,” he cries, “I said—what the hell did I say?”

 Patton’s laughing too hard to answer and Virgil just shakes his head helplessly.

 Logan snorts. Tries to stifle it again. Then his giggles start to slip out. “D-damn it.”

 Roman gives up trying to stop his own cackles and throws his head back, letting it ring out. “We were doing so well, too!”

 “We were indeed,” Logan says through a smile, “perhaps we should try again.”

 “No, no, no, I won’t be able to get any words out before I’m reminded of whatever the heck my tongue did.”

 “What word were you trying to say?”

 “I don’t even remember.”

 Dinner gets finished and Logan stands to help Patton clean up. Roman leans back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. Virgil watches him, his eye first caught by the movement, lingering when he sees the rush of relief on Roman’s face.

 Is…is that what stretching is supposed to feel like?

 “Stormcloud?”

 Virgil blinks. Oh. Oh, fuck, he’s staring. Roman stares down at him, his head tilted.

 “You’ve been quiet today, Stormcloud,” Roman says, too low for Logan or Patton to hear, “everything Gucci?”

 Nope. Princey’s not allowed to do that. Definitely not. He’s not allowed to sound that caring because Virgil will talk to him.

 “Everything’s fine.”

 Roman raises an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”

 “Shut up,” Virgil grumbles, shoving Roman halfheartedly as he chuckles.

 He goes to pull his hand back but Roman catches it, making him wince when his wings jar. This time he doesn’t miss Roman’s look of concern.

 “Virgil,” Roman calls, “are you hurt?”

 Yes. “Nah. Just slept weird.” On the ground, in pain.

 “You don’t want me to sic Patton on you, do you?”

 Virgil shudders, ignoring the twinge in his wings again. “No. Nope. I’m good.”

 Roman chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to the back of Virgil’s hand. “Alright. You just come and tell me when you need something, hmm?”

 Roman…maybe Roman?

 Roman, who is desire and passion and so, so warm to the touch. Roman, who has tried so, so hard to make Virgil his friend, to care for him. Roman, who looks at Virgil with soft expressions and sly winks and is just so there.

 …Roman, who treated him like a villain. Roman, who Virgil knows struggles to keep his own head above water most of the time. Roman, who can put on a mask to rival any actor’s, who can hide everything so well they might never know what’s really going on.

 Not Roman.

 “…yeah, sure, Princey.”

 “Marvelous!”

 And despite everything, despite the pain in his wings and the belt digging into the soft points of his feathers, Virgil smiles, just a little.

 If this is what he has to deal with to be a part of this, then he’ll do it.

 Then Deceit shows up and Virgil panics.

 Not because of what this means, not because of how it’s going to affect Thomas, but because Deceit knows.

 Deceit knows that Virgil has wings. Deceit knows that Virgil is a dark side. Deceit knows that Virgil hasn’t told the others.

 He’s safe—at least he thinks he’s safe—because if Deceit tells them about his wings, he’d have to tell the others he sheds too. And Deceit won’t ever volunteer information about himself like that. Virgil has one moment of panic on the witness stand, thinking Deceit’s about to split his defenses wide open, but no, no, he’s wings stay tucked up, ugly and rumpled, Virgil’s very own dirty little secret.

 Luckily—or unluckily—there are too many other things to focus on for Deceit to let slip that particular little secret. Virgil is too worried about Thomas and Patton and Roman and Logan and everything to worry any more about his wings. He runs on adrenaline and worries for days, weeks, months until it’s all he can think about, over and over, coffee being drained as quickly as Logan can brew it.

 He plucks out his own feathers in the dark and washes the blood off the carpet. He strains to move his arms, his shoulders, anything, just to get a little more range of motion. He wipes the crusted salt from the corner of his eyes and grits his teeth.

 Then Remus shows up and does what Remus does best: wreak absolute chaos.

 Roman is knocked out, Logan gets a shuriken in the forehead, and Virgil tells Thomas he used to be a dark side.

 The second he sinks into his room after that he tears at himself, his hoodie thrown to the corner of the room as his wings groan and buckle and writhe as Virgil paces.

  Why did he do that why did he do that now he knows now they know now it’s going to be so much worse they’re going to hate me again I’m going to be alone alone is safe alone protects me but alone is cold and lonely and alone hurts it hurts I hurt make it stop please—

 He’s panicking, he knows he’s panicking, he knows he should go, go find someone, have Logan help him, talk to Roman, get a hug from Patton, but his wings are out, he can’t put them away and they hurt, they hurt so much, everything hurts so much, he just wants it to stop.

 Virgil collapses onto the floor, ignoring the sickening crunch as one of his wings buckles under his weight. It just…it just hurts.

 Thomas doesn’t say anything.

 Patton doesn’t say anything.

 Logan doesn’t say anything.

 Roman doesn’t say anything.

 Remus doesn’t say anything.

 Janus doesn’t say anything.

 And somehow…somehow that’s worse.

 It doesn’t get easier, it just gets repetitive.

 He doesn’t try to get the spots he can’t reach anymore. He knows he can’t get the oil glands cleaned. He washes them as best he can but he knows he can’t dry them properly. He wears the sports bra. He wears the belt.

 He endures.

 Then he fucks up.

 Janus has been watching him. In fairness, Janus watches everybody, but he’s been keeping a particularly close eye on Virgil. If Virgil didn’t know any better, he’d think Janus was suspicious of him, that he’d do something to ruin Janus’s seat at the table, or hurt the others, or try and turn them against each other. It would make sense, given their…history.

 But Virgil knows Janus better than that.

 He knows that look and that’s why he shies away from it.

 He lashes out and he hates himself for it. He scorns Janus’s attention and has to hold back a gag. He slams his door shut and claps a hand over his mouth to stop himself from crying.

 He can’t let himself stop now. If he stops he’ll fall apart. He’s been numb for so long he wants to stay numb, can’t start feeling it again or—or—

 He can’t. He just can’t. The dark sides may be accepted now but that says nothing about Virgil.

 Which is why it is so, so stupid that Janus chooses to stand next to Logan when the next session comes. Because he’s right there, so close, where Virgil can practically feel his presence prickling along his left side and he’s so glad he bit the bullet and wore the sports bra today because his wings are straining to reach for him.

 But then Remus pops up next to Roman and Virgil visibly flinches.

 He’s able to pass it off as surprise but the knowing look Janus gives him tells him Janus can see right through him.

 He shouldn’t be feeling this way. He shouldn’t. He left the dark side ages ago, he shouldn’t—this shouldn’t—

 He shouldn’t be aching for them. For all of them. His wings shouldn’t be bristling and yearning and his back shouldn’t feel like it’s splitting in two right now.

 His mind shouldn’t be filled with thoughts of the soft touches they would give him as the helped groom his wings, the gentle jabs and playful barbs tossed back and forth as they supported each other.

 He shouldn’t feel so cold.

 The debate is already going, Logan and Patton tossing things back and forth, Roman and Remus doing the same. Janus adds a comment here and there, Thomas frantically trying to keep track of all of them. It’s far too easy for Virgil to withdraw, sink into his head, focus on keeping his wings in, make them stop, ignore the ache.

 Someone shouts right next to his ear and without thinking, Virgil reaches out and grabs Janus’s cloak.

 He freezes.

  Fuck fuck fuck he fucked up he fucked up—

 Why the fuck had he done that? Was it just because he was scared? He’s Anxiety, he’s always scared, why had this made him do something he hadn’t done since he was tiny?

 He’s not some frightened child anymore, tugging on his parent’s clothes to beg for scraps of comfort. Is this what he fucking wants, to be coddled, told pretty lies about how everything was fine?

 Too late, he realizes he’s still holding on and tries to let go quickly enough that no one will notice.

 It only partially works.

 The others are too busy scolding Remus—who just looks very pleased with himself—to notice. Except for Janus.

 Of fucking course Janus notices.

 Virgil shoves his traitorous hands into his pockets. He hunches his back, not caring that it makes his wings strain against the fabric of his hoodie. The only one who could see them right now is Janus and Virgil’s already dug his grave there, hasn’t he?

 He just wants this to be over so he can go and Janus will stop looking at him.

 The video ends and he can’t be the first one to sink out of the common area, that will draw attention, he can’t draw any more attention, but the longer he stays then someone will ask him something and he doesn’t want to—

 Oh.

 He blinks. Is…is the room empty? Oh. He can sink out now.

 …or he could stay here.

The others tend to go cool off in their rooms after heated videos, just until they can all come out and make nice again. Virgil…Virgil has the common room to himself.

 “Virgil?”

  Fuck.

 “…hey, Janus.”

 “Hello,” Janus says softly, and no, no, no, don’t do that.

 Janus is being kind and it’s so hard for Virgil to just stand here and not let his wings rip out of the hoodie. He didn’t sink out, he stayed, of course he fucking stayed, Virgil tugged on his cape like a little kid—

 Virgil curses under his breath, collapsing to sit on the steps. He ignores Janus’s soft noise of concern and balls his hands up, beating out an erratic rhythm on his legs. His back hurts. His shoulders hurt. His wings hurt. Now his legs hurt. Now his hands hurt.

 Something grabs his hands and pulls them over his head. The searing pain tears a cry out of his throat.

 “Shh, shh—“ Janus, it’s Janus— “none of that now, sweetie.”

 “Let me go.” It’s meant to come out as a snarl but instead, here Virgil is, whimpering at Janus’s feet.

 “Will you keep hurting yourself if I let you go?”

 No, Virgil wants to lie, yes, he wants to say just to spite him, what comes out of his mouth is neither of these.

 “You’re hurting me,” he pants, “you’re—it hurts.”

 Janus is silent above him, still holding his arms firmly above his head. Virgil chokes back a sob in the agonizingly painful position, barely suppressing his cries enough to still his shoulders which of course did nothing to alleviate the pain. Then another hand—right, he has six—touches gently beneath his chin, guiding his head up.

 Virgil meets such an open expression of concern that tears spring to the corners of his eyes. He looks away immediately, only for Janus to crouch in front of him. He keeps a hold of Virgil’s hands but the release in his shoulders is enough to make him gasp.

 “Sweetie,” Janus calls, “sweetie, look at me.”

 “No.”

 “Virgil, I need you to look at me.”

 Gritting his teeth, Virgil looks up at Janus. Janus squeezes his hands once.

 “When was the last time you had your wings groomed?”

 Virgil’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach.

 “Y-yesterday.”

 “Did you do it yourself?”

 “…yeah.”

 “When was the last time someone else helped you groom them properly?”

 Virgil swallows heavily and doesn’t say anything.

 “…oh, sweetie, have you not had anyone help you groom them since…?”

 Janus doesn’t even have to finish his sentence before Virgil’s nodding, the shameful secret finally spilling out. It’s Janus, he rationalizes, he knows how to keep a secret, right?

 “Why haven’t you told them,” Janus murmurs, his voice broken, “why, sweetie?”

 “Because telling people things is always so easy,” Virgil snarls.

 Janus accepts it with a slow nod, reaching out to cup Virgil’s cheek. On instinct, Virgil jerks back, unable to get away from the touch because of the grip on his hands. Janus’s eyes widen.

 “…oh, sweetie…”

 “Don’t tell them,” Virgil blurts out, “please don’t tell them.”

 “You’ve been hurting yourself, Virgil,” Janus whispers, “so badly, I can’t let that continue.”

 “I’ll—I’ll fix it, I can fix it—“

 “You know you can’t do this by yourself, honey.”

 “I have to,” Virgil cries out finally, “I have to, I can’t—I messed up, I messed everything up, I have to do it alone now, I have to—“

 “What did you mess up, sweetie?”

 “You a-and Remus and I can’t—I can’t ask you ‘cause I messed it up so bad—“

 “Shh, shh,” Janus soothes instantly, reaching out with another pair of hands to cup Virgil’s face properly, “you haven’t lost me, sweetie, you haven’t messed anything up so badly. You know you can come to me for help, you can always come here.”

 “But you’re—“

 “What, sweetie,” Janus prompts when Virgil cuts himself off, “what am I?”

 Nope. Because Virgil can’t even use the dark side excuse anymore because now the dark sides are accepted. He has no fucking excuse. He has no justification for why he’s doing this. He’s—he’s—

 He’s hurting himself.

 “It hurts,” he whispers instead, “m-make it stop.”

 “Do you have enough energy to sink out, sweetie?” Virgil shakes his head. “Okay. I need you to stand up for me, honey.”

 Getting to his feet is a slow process, Janus murmuring encouragement as they go. He sets Virgil’s hands gently against the stair railing and whispers that he’ll be right back, he just has to grab some things, wait here, please? Virgil lets him go and clutches the railing for dear life, trying to keep the waves of nausea inside thank you very much.

 “What do you mean, you haven’t seen him?”

 “I knocked on his door, he didn’t answer.”

 “So?”

 “So I…tried the knob.”

 “Roman!”

 “I know, I know, I’m not supposed to, but I was worried and he isn’t in there, so—“

 “Wait, he’s not in his room?”

 “No! That’s the problem!”

 “Well then where is he?”

 “I don’t know, that’s why I came to find you two!”

 “Wait…Virgil?”

  No, no, no—

 “Stormcloud,” Roman breathes from the top of the stairs, racing down, “there you are, we’ve been looking for you!”

 “What’re you doing down here, kiddo,” Patton asks worriedly, “are you…you don’t look so good.”

 Logan hustles around the end of the stairs to face him and no, no, Virgil doesn’t want this, not now—

 “Virgil,” Logan calls softly and he sounds so much like he cares— ���Virgil, are you having trouble standing?”

 Virgil nods jerkily.

 “Let’s have you sit down, then,” he continues gently, trying to cover up the shake in his voice.

 When he doesn’t move, Roman can’t help himself. He walks forward, his arms opening to hover around Virgil’s waist.

 “Can I carry you, Stormcloud,” he asks, “just to the couch?”

 What does he do? He can’t say no, not when they look so worried. They just keep asking questions, they’ll just—but Janus asked him to wait for him, but standing is so hard and they all look so worried—

 He nods again.

 Logan carefully places his hands around Roman’s neck as Roman scoops him into a princess carry, heading for the couch. He sits down in the middle, holding Virgil as securely as he can, looking up when Logan crouches in front of them, nervously adjusting his tie. Patton sits on his side, pulling Virgil’s legs into his lap.

 “What do we do?” Roman whispers. “I don’t—what do you need, Stormcloud?”

 Logan nods encouragingly, still looking at Virgil with his brows drawn until realization dawns on his face.

 “Virgil,” he says as he gets up to sit beside Roman, resting his hands on Virgil’s shoulders to encourage him to lean against him, “are you…is your ‘everything machine’ breaking?”

 Oh.

 Yeah, that’s what’s happening.

 It’s Roman’s turn to have the ‘aha’ moment when he nods, taking one of Virgil’s hands and tenderly pressing a kiss to it. Logan keeps a steady, grounding pressure on his sides as Roman carefully lies him on the couch, going to the kitchen.

 “Can you sit up? It’s perfectly alright if you can’t,” Logan assures quickly, “but it might be easier to drink something if you are upright.”

 Virgil nods.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, “we’ll go slowly, alright? If you feel dizzy or light-headed at any point, squeeze my hand and you can lie back down.”

 As promised, by the time they’re fully sitting up, Logan’s hand still on his shoulder, Roman’s breezed back in with a tissue box, a glass of water, a glass of orange juice, and a mini french loaf on a tray, set it all down on the coffee table, pulled the table close enough where he can perch on the edge, and reached out to take his hand again. Patton rubs encouraging circles into his knee, murmuring soft words of encouragement.

 Virgil can’t move. He doesn’t know what to do. He—they feel so warm, they keep touching him so gently, it—his wings are straining.

 He whimpers when Logan’s hand lands on his back and Logan moves away immediately. The loss of contact has him itching to reach out but he can’t can’t can’t—

 “Well.”

  Janus.

 Virgil blinks, and sure enough, there he is, standing with his hands clasped out of sight. Distantly, Virgil thanks that he’s still trying to keep Virgil’s secret, hiding whatever he has behind his back. He makes eye contact with Virgil and asks a silent question.

 Virgil can’t respond.

 “Janus,” Patton says, “do you—do you know what’s going on?”

 “Can we help,” Roman blurts, “with whatever it is?”

 Logan stays silent, gaze going back and forth between Virgil and Janus. Janus doesn’t take his eyes off Virgil.

 He’s waiting, Virgil realizes, to see if I’m going to let them help.

 …he doesn’t really have a reason not to anymore, does he?

 Logan leans closer, his lips barely brushing Virgil’s temple.

 “Please,” he whispers, “please, dearheart, let us help care for you.”

 Oh.

 Oh, fuck.

 “…help.”

 It’s loud enough for Janus to hear and he nods sharply, sitting down on the floor and holding out his arms. “You’re going to need to pass him to me. Be careful of his back.”

 It takes the other three to get him tucked up against Janus’s chest before they shuffle back, wary. Janus wraps his lowest pair of arms around Virgil’s hips, holding him close.

 “You just focus on me, sweetie,” he whispers, much too quiet for the others to hear, “and if you want them gone, you say so, okay?”

 “R-Remus?”

 “Remus is coming, sweetie, he found me looking for your things.”

 “You kept them?”

 “Of course we kept them.” Janus rests their foreheads together. “Of course we did.”

 Janus holds him close, whispers a few more soft words, until Virgil nods and lets him unzip his hoodie.

 “How, sweetie?”

 “…sports bra.”

 He can hear Janus swallow a noise of protest before he nods. “I’m going to have to cut them off, it’s going to hurt too much if we try and pry it off you.”

 “But—“

 “Sweetie,” Janus hushes, “you’re losing circulation, it’s not good for you.”

 Virgil shudders. “…does that mean you have to cut off m-my shirt too?”

 “Do you think you can hold your arms up long enough to get it off?”

 “…no.”

 Janus holds him tightly. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie, I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

 Against his better judgment, Virgil turns and tucks his head into the crook of Janus’s shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent. “…always are.”

 “I’m going to need the others to help me, help you, okay?” When Virgil nods, he can feel Janus look at the others, can feel the way his face changes.

 “Roman.”

 “Yes, I’m here.”

 “I need you to get Virgil’s hoodie off.”

 “O-okay,” Roman says, and Virgil can hear him shuffle up behind them, “is it already unzipped?”

 “It is.”

 “Here we go, Stormcloud,” Roman says softly, sliding the battered old thing from Virgil’s shoulders like it’s some fine silk garment, “you’re doing great…there. Where should I—“

 “On the couch.”

 There are a few more rustlings and then Janus’s mouth appears by Virgil’s ear again.

 “I’m going to cut them off now. You just hold still for me, alright?” Virgil nods and Janus squeezes him around the waist. “Good.”

 He turns his attention to the others. “Virgil has decided to trust you with this. I have decided to trust you with this. Betray that trust and you will not like the consequences. Am I clear?”

 Murmured assurances. Then the soft rip, rip, riiiiiip of fabric, and the pressure on his wings releases.

 Virgil’s sure Janus is talking from the vibration of his throat and he’s also sure the others are saying something back, but he can’t hear anything right now over the rush of blood in his ears from his wings unfurling, creaking, in all their ugly, dirty glory.

 He winces, tries to stretch them, only to hear a cry of dismay from over his shoulder and an ‘oh, sweetie,’ from Janus. The tendon snaps back out of place and his wings slump.

 “Virgil,” Janus says next to his ear, “Virgil, Remus is here now. Do you think you can explain what we need to do or would you like us to?”

 Virgil should explain. It’s his problem. It’s his responsibility.

 But…but it would be nice to not have to…for once. To…to let them take care of him.

 “…c-can you?”

 “We can.”

 He feels another warm hand on his bare side and Remus’s voice in his ear.

 “Hey,” Remus says, “you really are a mess right now, huh?”

 Coming at any other time, it would be an insult. But right now, laced with concern, Remus’s statement sends a rush of warmth down Virgil’s spine.

 “We need to get the tendon reset first,” Remus says. Someone shuffles over to join him. “You know what you’re doing?”

 “I think so.” Oh. It’s Logan. Logan knows what he’s doing. Good, good. “Hold still for us, dearheart.”

 “Ah!”

 “Sorry, sorry,” Logan stammers, “but we’ve got it now.”

 “You’re gonna be sore for a bit, little monster,” Remus says, “but Logan’s right. You’re all reset now. You wanna stretch it out? Carefully?”

 Virgil does, tentatively extending his wing and it—it feels better. Well, it feels bruised and sore and achy—but it feels better.

 “It…it’s back,” Virgil says in a strangled whisper, “it’s back.”

 “Yes, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, “now let’s get you cleaned up.”

 Virgil drifts. In and out. He hears Remus explain how to straighten his feathers, feels two strong steady hands carding through them, Looks up to see Roman, expression more focused than he’s ever seen, sees that expression melt when he catches Virgil’s eyes. Plucks a loose feather out and lays it in a growing pile.

 Feels two more on his other side and looks around to see Patton doing the same, running his fingers through the primaries, secondaries, up to the covets, and through the scapulars. Feels his fingers linger just where the tips of the feathers brush Virgil’s bare back, stroking reassuring rhythms where he lands.

 Janus still has two of his arms holding Virgil in his lap. With Virgil’s nod, he slowly raises Virgil’s arms above his head again, letting the others have access to the rest of his wings. With his last two hands, he starts smoothing the bottom of his wings, lingering in the spots where Virgil winces, gently tugging and adjusting until everything’s just right.

 A flash of movement and he sees Remus over Janus’s shoulder, grabbing a spray bottle and two hairbrushes. He ruffles Virgil’s hair as he goes back around, warning him before he starts gently spraying Virgil’s wings, passing the hairbrushes to Roman and Patton with the instructions to try and get as much of the gunk out as possible.

 “You,” Roman murmurs as he works, “are magnificent, Virgil, just look at you.”

 “Don’t,” Virgil manages, “please don’t tease.”

 “I’m not teasing,” Roman promises, brushing a part of his wing that sends a shudder down his spine, “you’re…you’re—these are spectacular, Virgil, truly.”

 Virgil shifts in Janus’s lap. “…ugly.”

 “What?”

 “…they’re ugly.”

 “Of course they’re not, what do you…” Roman turns to him. “Stormcloud, who told you that?”

 “…me.”

 “Falsehood,” comes Logan’s voice from directly behind him, “your wings are indeed quite splendid.”

 “Because they’re interesting?”

 “Because they are a part of you,” Logan corrects softly, “and yes, because they are interesting.”

 “We love you, kiddo.” Patton reaches up to squeeze his hand. “That means all of you, even your wings.”

 Virgil opens his mouth to respond when hands slip through his feathers and every breath is stolen from his body.

 “Here,” Logan says softly, “are they here?”

 “Yep. Feel around in there a little, you should find the—“

 “Here.”

 Two thumbs swipe over the glands and Virgil shudders, right down to the tips of his wings. Logan pauses, leaning forward and doing it again. Virgil shudders harder, warmth shooting through his body, so warm, so warm. Then Logan’s hands start spreading the oil through his feathers and Virgil can’t.

 “Shh,” Janus soothes, holding him tightly, “shh, I know, sweetie, just hold on…you’re doing so well.”

 “Be gentle, Logan,” Roman orders, his gaze fixed on Virgil’s face.

 “I am.” Logan does it again and Virgil gasps. “This area is simply…sensitive.”

 Virgil swallows. “…haven’t…haven’t been able to…to…”

 “You have not been able to reach these areas yourself,” Logan finishes when Virgil can’t make words happen anymore, “and so the sensation is heightened by the newness of it.”

 “Y-yeah.”

 Then Roman’s hand brushes over his alula and he whimpers.

 “S-sorry.”

 “Would I be mistaken in saying this is quite…an intimate action?” Virgil shakes his head at Logan’s question. “Then you do not need to apologize. Trusting others with this level of intimacy is difficult, and you are doing very well.”

 “You are, kiddo,” Patton adds when Virgil makes a noise of protest, “and you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. It’s okay that you’re sensitive, it’s okay.”

 “Is this alright, Stormcloud,” Roman asks softly as he keeps brushing the feathers, “can we keep going?”

 “Mhm,” Virgil mumbles, head lolling forward, “mhm.”

 “Good.”

 As they finish removing the clearly damaged feathers, the real grooming starts. Roman and Patton start gently tugging here and there to pull out loose and broken feathers, pushing the ones that are just slightly crooked back into place. The hairbrushes, with nice wooden spokes, split the feathers easily without a snag as Logan carefully works the oil throughout. Remus slips down, carefully spreading the oil over Virgil’s back, kneading out the tension from his sore muscles. Janus holds him steady, murmuring softly.

 Virgil floats, punch-drunk on the fuzzy feeling from Logan’s hands, Patton’s hands, Roman’s hands, Remus’s hands, Janus’s hands. It’s so warm, so warm, as he feels the lingering strings of hurt and tension slowly and persistently untangled from his wings.

 “I think that’s everything,” comes Logan’s soft voice an uncertain amount of time later, and yet none of the hands move away.

 “You’re so pretty, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, running his hands through the feathers, “so, so pretty.”

 “Guess you really did dig the purple, huh?” Remus gives Virgil’s hair a ruffle. “I think these are the best these have looked in a while.”

 Virgil shifts in Janus’s lap. “…yeah, well…”

 Janus shushes him. “It doesn’t matter, now, sweetie. It’s okay.”

 “You were hesitant because being vulnerable is hard,” Logan adds, still stroking up and down the joint of his wings, “that isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”

 Virgil opens his mouth to reply when Logan’s fingers skitter over the spot right under the joint and he cries out.

 “…Virgil?”

 Logan raises an eyebrow when Virgil simply shudders, his back arching. Slowly, he does it again, smiling when Virgil all but purrs.

 “I think he likes that,” Patton says quietly, “don’t you, kiddo?”

 Virgil whines.

 “Where else are you sensitive,” Roman murmurs, scritching his fingers lightly along the top of Virgil’s wing, “where else, Stormcloud?”

 “I don’t think he’s got command of words right now,” Remus chuckles.

 “If Virgil’s wings are anatomically similar to bird wings,” Logan murmurs, “then…”

 Roman’s hand is tangled in his alula. Patton’s hands are rubbing at the crook of his wings. Logan’s thumbs stroke over the oil glands again.

 Virgil’s mouth is suddenly very, very dry.

 Remus’s thumbs suddenly dig into the space between his shoulder blades, startling a short moan out of him. He hears a chuckle from over his shoulder.

 “Does that feel good, dearheart,” Logan murmurs, his nails scraping lightly over the soft skin where Virgil’s wings met his back, “right there?”

 Virgil’s only response is a long, low, drawn-out sound that would have been mortifying had he any control over his brain right now.

 “Oh, wow,” Patton mumbles from the side.

 Roman reaches up and wiggles his fingers next to Logan’s and Virgil keens.

 Janus chuckles, lowering Virgil’s arms around his neck and reaching out to scritch lightly at the marginal covets. “You’re about to get spoiled, sweetie,” he murmurs, “you just hang on, hmm?”

 Virgil wraps his arms around Janus and holds on for dear life just as fingers wiggle into his axillaries and he freezes.

 Then he melts, right into Janus, right into the hands in his wings, the sound physically being ripped out of his chest.

 Lips brush the side of his neck like the owner couldn’t stop themselves. The hand on his right twitches violently. From his left comes a long, shuddering breath.

 “Oh, Stormcloud—“ Roman, that’s Roman— “you best believe we’re going to spoil you all the time.”

 Just like that, everything multiplies. Pats, strokes, kneads, scritches, ruffles, so many so many so many gentle, adoring touches and soft voices in his ears and Virgil flies.

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[elvish-sky]

You are the One Person I could Never Hate {Legolas x Reader}

A.N: I may or may not have written most of this on my phone on a three-hour car ride, but it was a good way to pass the time. I really like this fic, I had a lot of fun writing it and it's my first request, so I hope you enjoy it!

Anon Request from Tumblr: hi! I was hoping you take requests cuz I do have one of you do! Could you please write a Legolas x reader fic with cuddles? Maybe some jealous Legolas at some point too? Anything you want tho really! Love your stuff, can't wait to see more <3

Word Count: 2,414

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Summary: Legolas gets jealous of the time Y/N spends with Aragorn and Boromir.

Warnings: Jealousy, fluff, some angst, cuddles.

****

You are the One Person I could Never Hate

"Y/N, Aragorn, we're stopping!" came a shout from behind you. You and Aragorn turned to see Legolas beckoning towards you, with tired hobbits sprawled on the ground around him, and Sam starting a fire.

The two of you made your way back to the group and sat down, anticipating Sam's stew. Over the past weeks, you and Aragorn had grown close. To be fair, you had become close with everyone in the Fellowship in different ways. With Aragorn, it was a sort of quiet companionship. You shared a love of the wilderness, and he had been teaching you how to fight with a sword, compared to your two daggers. He had become a brother to you. The same was true with all the others in the Fellowship, except one. It felt different when you were with Legolas. There was something else there.

As Sam served the stew, you chatted with Boromir about herbs. You'd discovered that he had an interest in herbs and healing, rather unusual for a soldier of Gondor. The two of you often played a game while on the move that involved challenging the other's knowledge. You were currently discussing today's tally. "So that makes nineteen for Y/N and twenty-two for me!" said a smug Boromir. "No way!" you shot back. "I had twenty-three and you had twenty!" Aragorn jumped in, "Actually, as I recall, Y/N got the first eight and then proceeded to misidentify the next fifteen. Boromir got twelve." This declaration was met with nods from the rest, including Sam, who was, along with Aragorn, considered the expert. You rolled your eyes and shared a glance with Boromir, silently agreeing that you both had gotten more than Aragorn had said.

The night went on, and you began to grow tired. You glanced over the fire at Legolas, but he wouldn't meet your eyes. Feeling rather confused and even a little slighted, you got up, and with a yawn pronounced "I'm gonna go to sleep, goodnight everyone." With a chorus of goodnights coming from the group, you turned and walked over to your bedroll, laying down and drifting off as you watched the others begin to wander to bed.

You were shaken awake the next morning by the elf, and with a sharp "get up" he made his way over to wake up Gimli and then the hobbits. Confused by his abruptness, you got up and began to pack.

Once you started walking, you hurried to the front of the group, wanting to talk to Legolas. "Legolas- wait up!" The elf turned, saw it was you who had called out, and begrudgingly stopped. Once you caught up, you said, "I've noticed you've been a little out of sorts lately- is everything okay?" He replied with a curt "yes" and kept walking. You easily matched his pace and continued "you keep glaring at me, you won't talk to me, are you sure?" "I'm fine. Why don't you go talk to Aragorn or someone else you clearly seem to like more than me?" With that, he sped up, leaving you behind feeling more confused than ever, and even like you had done something wrong.

As the hobbits passed you, you sidled up to Aragorn. "What's wrong with Legolas?" you asked. "I think you might want to talk to him about it," Aragorn replied with a smirk.  "I tried that!" you shot back. "I think he might hate me. All he did was glare at me and say something about you and me." "I think that might explain something, and I've seen the way you look at him. Just try talking it out." Aragorn said. "Now, I'm just going to go speak with Legolas and clear up a few things. Why don't you catch up with the hobbits and see what in Middle-Earth Pippin is gesturing to Merry and Boromir about?" And in fact, once you caught up to them Pippin was giving some long-winded explanation of a planned prank on Gimli and Aragorn, which somehow included worms, water, and Boromir, who, it became clear, had had a hand in planning the whole thing. You decided to walk by yourself for a while, not wanting to be implicated once the crime was committed.

You walked on, Aragorn's words ringing through your head. ~"I've seen the way you look at him."~ You thought back over the time spent traveling with them all. You had found yourself admiring Legolas often, but you had brushed it off as the result of his elven looks. Now, though, you began to realize Aragorn knew you better than you knew yourself. He had taken better notice than you at how you blushed whenever Legolas touched you, even if it was just his hand on your arm as he stood up. What you didn't notice were the eyes of the elf upon you all the time, the way he would automatically move his body to shield yours at any sign of danger, and how whenever you spoke he would listen raptly, even if you were just composing more bawdy lyrics for Merry's newest drinking song. You hadn't noticed these things, but Aragorn had, and as you walked you went through your memories and began to notice them too.

That night at the campfire, Aragorn, the meddling moron, assigned you and Legolas to firewood duty. You followed him into the forest, slightly annoyed at Aragorn but knowing that you needed to talk with Legolas. Yet again lost in your thoughts, you crashed into something and fell over. Lying underneath you was Legolas, with a shocked expression on his face and dirt in his hair. "Y/N!" he exclaimed. "Watch where you're going!" "Sorry," you replied and rolled off him to offer him a hand up. He ignored it and sprung up without your help while saying, "Actually, Y/N, I need to talk to you." Confused, you replied, "You've been ignoring me for a week! What could you possibly have to say now?" Ashamed, he looked down. "Aragorn told me what you said to him earlier. He said you thought I hated you. I asked him to assign us to get firewood tonight so that I could talk to you about it." He continued, "I know I've been rather awful to you lately and I wanted to tell you why. I was jealous." You had been pacing around the small clearing you were in as he spoke, but at this, you stopped and turned to face him. "I was jealous of the way you seemed to gravitate towards Aragorn when we walked. I was jealous of how you bonded with Boromir and how easy and familiar you were with both of them. And I'm sorry I took it out on you. I understand if you are mad. I know you aren't even mine to be jealous about. I understand if you hate me now, for how horrible I've been to you. I was just trying to distance myself so that I stopped feeling for you."

Exasperated, you strode over to him, said "You are the one person I could never hate," and gently pressed your lips against his. He responded in kind, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he turned and pressed your back against a tree. You paused to draw breath, and as you did said, "I love you." Legolas whispered back "I love you more," and kissed you again. You ran your hands through his hair as his hands roamed across your back, and deepened the kiss.

You sprang apart as shouts came from the area of the campsite. You quickly drew your daggers as Legolas notched an arrow to his bow, and together you ran through the trees. You burst back into the campsite to find Gimli and Aragorn wriggling on the ground while Merry, Pippin, Boromir, and a rather amused Gandalf looked on, and Frodo and Sam attempted to protect the fire from the splashing water. You and Legolas joined in the laughter as the two victims continued to pluck worms and dump water out of their bedrolls. Once they were satisfied that there were no more invaders in their bedding, they began to advance on the rest of you with extremely annoyed looks on their faces. Pippin's amusement was fading quickly and disappeared completely along with Merry's as they were grabbed and tossed into the nearby stream to the sounds of even more laughter. Climbing out, spluttering, they both pointed their fingers at Boromir. "Throw him in too!" said Merry, and Pippin backed him up with, "Yes, do! He helped up with the whole thing and even gathered the worms!" Boromir denied this with a vehement "No I did not!" but was tackled by two soaked hobbits. With a yell, the three of them rolled over the bank and splashed into the river.

Merry, Pippin, and Boromir sat shivering around the fire while you and everyone else puzzled over the problem that had now arisen. The three pranksters, upon getting out of the river, had rushed for their bedrolls to warm up, soaking them in the process. Now, there were five dry bedrolls for ten people. "I can give Boromir mine," you announced. "And Merry and Pippin can share with me and Frodo," Sam offered. "Gimli and I each have cloaks and other clothing we can use, so that settles it!" said Aragorn. "Wait, Y/N. Where are you going to sleep?" "I'm sure I can figure something out," you said with a sideways glance at Legolas, who, upon understanding your idea, blushed a deep beet red. "Aha!" exclaimed Aragorn. "I knew you'd work it out!" And with a wink and a "sleep well" followed by a whole lot of sniggering from him and Gimli, he made his way over to take the first watch.

Meanwhile, you and Legolas made your way over to his bedroll, ignoring the stares and smirks of everyone else. "Y/N" he whispered, "I'm not sure if us getting in bed together in front of everyone else is the best idea." "Agreed," you replied, "we'd be in for a whole world of teasing. How about I take one blanket and you take the other?" "That sounds good." So you each took a blanket and lay down a respectable foot away from the other. But you were too cold to sleep with one meager blanket on the hard forest floor.

You waited until you heard everyone else's breathing slow, signifying they were asleep, and then you rolled over to Legolas, poking him to wake him up. "Hey," you said softly, "can I sleep here?" "Of course," he replied, and lifted his blanket so you could crawl in. You grabbed the blanket he had given you earlier and placed it over the one already there to give you even more warmth. Legolas pulled you closer to him and you pressed up against him, his breath whispering in your ear. "This is nice," you said as his arm snaked across your waist, and you inhaled the smell of him. He always had the scent of a forest about him, and the smell of rain. You thought they were two of the most wonderful smells in Middle-Earth. You drifted off to sleep with Legolas' arm around you, his breath tickling your ear, and his body strong against your back.

You woke early the next morning with a yawn and tried to sit up and stretch. You let out a hiss of pain as you felt your hair catch on something, and looked around to see if anyone else had heard. They were all still asleep except the elf on the ground next to you, who had been awoken by your gasp. "Melleth nîn(my love), what is wrong?" he inquired with a concerned look. "It's my hair," you whispered, "it's caught on this god-forsaken root!" He sat up and gestured for you to adjust yourself so that you were sitting between his legs with your head on his chest. He began to comb his hands through your hair, working out the knots and untangling it from the root. As he worked, he began to softly sing an elvish lullaby to you. You'd never heard it before, but the words sounded beautiful and his voice was exquisite. You relaxed as the one you loved sang to you and worked the tangles from your hair. You were happy to have this moment of peace with him as you watched the sunrise over the mountains to the east.

You were shaken from this spell by the sounds of the rest of the Fellowship rising for the day. You sighed and rose, rolling up the bedding that the two of you had shared and packing everything up. Most of the rest of Fellowship barely spared a glance to you and Legolas other than to look happy for you, but you saw Aragorn give him a subtle fist bump.

As you started the day's walking again, Aragorn passed you, and with a smug look on his face whispered "I told you so," in your ear. You managed to punch him in the arm before he got out of reach and saw him gratifyingly wince.

The day went on as you hiked over mountains and into valleys, waiting until Gandalf called "halt!" to stop for lunch. You sprawled down onto a rock and took out an apple from your pack, one of the ones you had saved from Rivendell. As you ate, with Legolas sitting next to you, you gazed around at the rest of the group, reflecting on how ridiculously lucky it was that they were all such good people. Sure, you all had good and bad days, but you couldn't imagine attempting this journey with anyone else. They had begun to feel like family.

Legolas noticed the sappy look on your face and nudged you, asking "Y/N, what on Middle-Earth is that face for?" "Oh, nothing," you replied. "I'm just thinking." "What kind of thoughts?" he inquired. "The good kind." With that Gandalf decided that it was time to start moving again, and so you jumped up and offered a hand up to Legolas, not expecting him to take it. This time, however, he did, and he didn't let go for the rest of the day. Your hands swung, intertwined, between you as you walked. When the sun set it highlighted them and they glowed with the light of a thousand suns.

Everything tag: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins

[settersloveletters]

NO. 1 FAN

• part nineteen; call me daddy coach

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⤷ y/n will always go out of her way for her family, especially for her 7 year old niece, who happens to be kageyama tobio’s number one fan. what happens when the charming sweetheart, y/n, meets the emotionally null, kageyama tobio? and what happens when those two fall in love at first sight?

a/n: we’ve converted to the moon icon for kags. just to keep it consistent hahah. anyways, this is 90% shameless smut and 10% sum serious shit :)) ALSO i removed the cut for both parts cuz tumblr is being fucky wucky rn. will add them back when its normal

[!] below this is lots of smut. BOLDED TEXT IS IMPORTANT TO THE STORY [!]

➳ word count: 3k

➳ warnings: smut!!! coach-kink??? raw sex, creampie, the slightest amount of pregnancy kink and size kink.

“Hey, are you alright, baby? What’s up with that text you sent?” You greet Kageyama right when you open the door for him. Wrapping your arms around him, you give a gentle kiss on his cheek. Shutting the door behind him, he sighs as he sets his bags down and removes his shoes. “It’s nothing,” placing a kiss on your head before pulling you into the living room.

“Hm.. okay. What did you want to do today? Since, we’re all alone,” you push Kageyama onto the couch, grabbing his face and getting a good look into his eyes. Maybe it’s your mind playing games and overthinking, but he’s very tired; a distant emptiness in him.

“Anything you want, Y/n,” breaking eye contact with you to instead pull you into his embrace. Feeling your small warmth press against him eases all the stresses, tensions, doubts in his heart. You’re the medicine that heals him of all his pains.

“Sal’s not here. So you aren’t gonna get your Sunday workout..”

“Yes, and what about it?”

“How about,” clasping your hands in his, you pull him off the cushions of the couch and slowly lead him towards your bedroom, “you be my coach today?” His typical stern expression almost cracks at your words. Before he can even interject, you’ve guided him into your bedroom which is dimly lit regardless of the peak sunlight outside. Counting your frequent excursions and chill hangouts, Kageyama is very familiar with this room. The smell, the look, the plush sheets and what can be found where. It’s comfortable.

“I’m your coach for today? What are we practicing today though?” he teasingly asks, well knowing what you want. He stands in front of your bed as you lay yourself down, admiring the Adonis in the room. Far bigger, taller and stronger than you, he always has you weak at the legs and embarrassingly sore the next day. He’s also so stubborn; when he has a goal and motive, he’ll accomplish it even if it means spending that extra hour.

“Endurance training, of course,” you chuckle while copying his exact words from that first time, waiting for him to bed you. “You think this is funny?” He’s quickly making his way to the bed, finding his spot right on top of you, looking down at you with slight agitation. The more you two have fun, the bolder you two get. You’ve learned the pleasures of provoking Kageyama, teasing him, convincing him he can’t do something, just for him to come back with ten times more passion and aggression. And he’s learned how far you like being pushed, held, edged, tortured even. You have aligned perfectly with each other.

“Yes, it’s so funny, Kags,” you laugh at him again while wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in to kiss you. He doesn’t budge though, instead choosing to place a firm hand on your jaw, so close to gripping your neck in the softest of squeezes. “I don’t think that’s how you address your coach.” He’s almost there.

“Oh, you liked that idea? Me calling you coach? How perverted, Kageyama,” you smirk, knowing exactly what to do to change the calm stoic boy into a man who only shows himself to you alone. And all he wants to do is to unravel you like he plans.

Kageyama doesn’t miss a beat, swiftly unbuttoning the front of your too tight top, watching the way he unwraps you like a birthday gift. “You don’t get to talk to me like that, pretty girl,” he says, low and steadily, before using both hands to rub along your body. His touch trails your exposed skin, stopping at your breasts which are hidden beneath your bra, tempting him to just strip you bare and take you right there. “Coach, take it off me.”

“You just don’t know your place today, huh?” feeling no remorse, Kageyama roughly flips you over, laying you on your stomach and wasting no time in ripping all the clothes off your body. First, that stupid bra that is the exact shade of blue he loves seeing on you, then those poor excuse of shorts that do no good at hiding that cute little behind of yours. He leaves you trembling there in his presence, and in the soaked matching red thong that hugs your hips so well.

Palming his large hands on the flesh of your ass, Kageyama lands an experimental tap, sending fiery jolts across your skin and a yelp out your lips. “Baby, I’ll give you a second chance. But if you choose to test me again,” rubbing your reddening cheek softly, “you’re not going to get your needy pussy fucked, okay?”

You would have never expected such a dork like Kageyama to have such a filthy mouth. He never fails to surprise you. Grinding back against his touch, you give him a nod in response. Face flush flat into the pillows, you have no clue what he’s doing, what his face looks like, what he’s thinking. It isn’t until both his hands grab the sides of your hip, pulling you so your ass is up, back arched.

“Well, since I’m your coach today, I think we should start with basic stretches. Sounds good?”

“Mhm, things have been feeling too tight lately, coach..”

“Don’t worry, doll. I’ll help you out with that,” he stifles a laugh while reassuring his cute student. Peeling back the panties that hug your ass, removing them completely, Kageyama sits back to revel in the sight of your glistening cunt. You shiver at the feeling of the room’s draft against your exposed pussy, pulsing around nothing, much to his enjoyment. Using his thumbs, he pulls the skin of your lips apart, collecting the honey and massaging it into your sensitive skin.

“Hm, this is a tough job. I’m not sure if you’ll stretch too well. Your cunt looks too tight, doll,” Kageyama chides, giving another playful spank on your ass. You whine against the pillow, too frustrated to express your feelings through words. All you can manage to do is turn your head back, looking at him, eyes borderline glossy with tears and arousal which sends a tang straight to his heart.

“Fuck, if you look at me like that.. might just have to force it to open up. Is that what you want?” You eagerly nod in approval, slightly swaying your hips left and right to entice him all the more. The twisted thought of Kageyama, a man that towers over you, has a cock far too big for your pussy, and can physically do whatever he pleases with you, excites you two to no end.

You watch in anticipation as he gets off the bed, never breaking eye contact with each other as he tugs his shirt off. You’ve seen it more than a handful of times now, but the built structure of his body, toned muscles and all, has your mouth agape and legs shaking. He begins undoing the drawstring of his sweatpants, allowing them to drop onto the ground, leaving him in only his boxers. A visible tent already pinching the fabric at a point. He’s lowering the waistband and revealing the girth underneath, tossing the fabric aside. You never fail to rile him up, and that’s what he loves so much.

“Baby, I don’t know how many times I have to say it. But, why are you so hot?”

“I don’t know, doll. I’ll ask you the same,” he gives you the softest of smiles.

Getting on the bed again, Kageyama leans in against you, trailing warm kissing on the surface of your back, along your spine and stopping at your sensitive neck.

“We haven’t kissed at all today, did you notice?” claiming a long kiss on the nape of your neck, leaving a light bruise that has you getting chills across your skin. He slightly bucks his hips against yours, loving the way his cock brushes against your soothing touch.

“‘Course I noticed. I tried, but you wouldn’t let me..” you respond in a meek tone, which has him flipping you around, face to face once again. Looking into your hazed gaze, Kageyama inches closer before locking his lips with yours. Gentle lips that kiss him back, and tongues connecting sensually. Occasionally gasping for air, you two engage in kisses, both kind and devilish, for what seems to be a full lifetime.

Without even realizing it, Kageyama begins rubbing his fingers along your slit, lips muffling your sudden squeak. His cold digits collect your love juices, before using a single finger to probe your entrance. Your hips involuntarily grind against him, voice humming for more, for him to give you more.

“Doll, gotta take things slow. I don’t want to hurt you, okay?” he asserts, using his non-dominant hand to pet your hair in comforting strokes. Steadily moving his finger in and out of your pussy, he indulges in quiet flutters of your walls around him, the way you tighten whenever he looks into your eyes, or breaths against your tender skin. “Coach, another, please?”

“I call the shots here. I’ll know when you’re ready.”

“Hm, but your fingers always feel so good in me. I can’t handle it anymore,” you praise, hitting those happy nerves in his brain.

“Fine. Don’t complain to me after for being sore,” he spits before forcing another cold finger into you, pushing satisfyingly deep. “Yes, coach. Won’t complain,” you gasp through the thrusts of his fingers. Your blissed face has Kageyama growing painfully hard and in need for your heat to finally engulf him. His two fingers turn into three, make audible noises as he scissors and pulls in and out, stretching you just like your coach promised.

Kageyama’s aching for your touch at this point, so without question, he removes his digits, inspecting the honey-like accumulation of love that coats his fingers. “Nice and wet for him, huh?” he teasingly comments, and all you can do is squint your eyes back at him, with your typical bratty attitude. He firmly grabs at your jaw again as a warning, knowing he’s given far too many chances for your insolent behaviour, but can never fully bear torturing or punishing you because his love is just that strong.

“Okay, get up. You’re doing glute workouts now that you’re properly stretched.”

“W-what?” you stutter, genuinely believing he was serious. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was going to make you follow through. Kageyama moves your body aside, only to take your spot and sit up against your bed’s headboard. Tilting his head to look at you with those piercing eyes, “C’mon, it’s no time for a break. Ride me.”

“Ka- coach..” you lugg yourself up so you can seat yourself in his lap, arms wrapping around his neck to support yourself in the new position. Seeing you breathless without even putting it in you has Kageyama flustered and his heart beating. You grab his girth and rub it against your entrance, not yet putting it in. “You’re okay with doing it raw today?” he grabs onto your waist, before you can lower yourself any further, reassuring you were okay with this. This vulnerable feeling, this closeness both you and him share, you were fine with doing anything as long as it’s with him.

Weaving your fingers through his dark locks, you look Kageyama in the eyes, “Yes, my love. It’s a safe day, so let’s have some fun, yeah?” Engaging in one last kiss, he allows you to lower down onto the head of cock, the stinging stretch of your walls around him. The feeling of your bare pussy squeezing against his cock has Kageyama bucking his hips, in desperation to feel more.

“Hey there, you gotta start moving. This is still part of our training,” urging you to take him deeper, to which you do. Inch by inch, you relax yourself onto his length, down down down until all eight inches are buried within you. Kageyama grunts, wallowings in the tightness of your heat wrapped graciously around his cock. You whine loudly against his neck, too overwhelmed over the intrusive size inside you.

“C-coach, why is your cock so big?” moaning as you raise your hips slowly, allowing him to feel every rib of your walls hug his shaft. His face grows redder at your words, and you swear he grows just a tiny bit harder too. “Don’t say those types of things to m-”

“Fuck, it reaches so damn deep, baby. Feels so fucking good, oh my god,” interrupting him, you continue your obscensent sighs and praise as your hips build a steady rhythm. Rolling your hips, you grind against all the good parts while continuing to give him the steady satisfying friction for his cock. Kageyama’s given up on trying to talk to you, or scold you, instead leaking quiet whines and less than quiet moans. “Why don’t you try fucking me now, huh? I’m getting tir-” A firm strike to your ass cuts you off mid sentence as Kageyama firmly grabs onto your hips, setting his own pace now.

“How does it feel to be interrupted, huh?” he mocks you, before slamming his hips into yours, in a quickening pace the room begins filling with the sounds of wet thrusts and skin on skin. You squeak when he lays another spank across your ass, cheek burning up from the impact. He’s a pro athlete with extremely toned arms, so those harsh love taps are bound to leave marks.

“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to int-”

“S’okay, doll,” right after cutting you off once more, he looks down at you with the most condescending look and thrusts his cock, perfectly hitting your sweet spot. Repeatedly targeting that spot has you becoming a babbling mess. His hold on your hips prevents you from moving, as he thrusts up into your cunt like you’re some doll. You love the way he has you seeing fireworks, the way his cock stretches you out so well, and the way he reaches insanely deep, up against your cervix. You love it so much actually, to the point where you start saying things you didn’t mean to say… Well, not yet at least.

“Baby, I love you so much, oh gosh. Can’t.. Your cock feels so good, ahhh.”

“(Y/n), did y-”

“Fuck, please, please, please. Cum inside me, please? I wanna feel ya up against my womb when you c-”

“What the fuck are you saying, (Y/n)?” Regardless of his presumably concerned words, Kageyama quickens the speed of his hips, chasing this desired high and forbidden idea of cumming inside the love of his life.

“Mmm, you know exactly what I’m saying. I know you aren’t that dumb,” you brain is too fried to know when to stop with your words. “I’m not the fucking dumb one when you are the one who’s basically begging to be knocked up. Is that what you want, doll?” he leans up close to your ear and hums those tempting words as he stops his rapid thrusts, instead grinding his cock against the deepest parts of your sopping cunt.

“‘Course, baby. Want your cum right inside here,” you whine again as you pull his hand, placing it on the surface of your tummy, reveling in the way he moans loudly. There was something about what you said that had Kageyama in a loss for thoughts, heart skipping every other beat. Even if this was all in the heat of the moment, heat of lust and desire, what he felt far surpassed mere infatuation.

“Gonna cum..” he whispers, groaning at the way you swivel your hips in his lap, bringing you both closer and closer. He wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace, tipping you over the edge. He loves you. His cock twitches, once, twice, three times, feeling the warmth seep through your core as he paints your walls white. You’re left breathless as Kageyama basks in the event of his high.

“I can’t believe I actually c.. inside you..”

“Felt nice though, right?” you coo into his ear. His face and ears burning up as you lift yourself off his lap, releasing the softening cock from your insides. The mix of your juices and his cum slowly drips out, which has him groaning at the sight. With a soft kiss on the lips, Kageyama lays you on the bed again before getting up to prepare a warm towel.

Patting you clean of all the grime of the dirty encounter, he takes one good look at your body, face, eyes and sighs. For a man with no true understanding of his own emotions, you’ve learned to read and interpret them in lieu of that. But right now, for the first time, you don’t know what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling.

“Was it bad, or something..? We can talk about it,” you pull him in to rest and lay beside you, face to face. Those deep blue eyes say so many things, intense love and desire, but also, grief and sadness, all at the same time. He doesn’t respond to you. “Are you feeling okay? What’s wrong?” You grab onto his hand, feeling the slight tremble and shake beneath his skin.

He can't leave you when you look at him with such love, or hold his hands with such care, or speak to him with such concern. He just can’t.

“I’m leaving, Y/n.. I got an offer for Team Italy.”

- TAGLIST -

@anhphunnnn | @adamarvv | @asahiswaifu | @fangirling-25-8 | @kei-kui | @lilacshouko | @smol-enbybackup | @gyubit17 | @renee1414 | @denkiwenki | @xanaxdeity | @cuddlesslut | @nikkipea | @lovemesomehwa | @muiyuuuu | @oikawalmart-hq | @mirdy47707 | @lumiriai | @notamazinglizzy | @starwrite-er | @dearkags | @hamsterfan17 | @sugawsites | @anime-simp | @singleandlonely | @levisackerwoman | @cactuski6 | @kingkagss | @gentlechainsaws | @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that | @prettymuchboo | @highlyanxiousintroverted | @anna-pcy21 | @sweetlysugawara | @yqshirov | @kingkags | @marifujioka | @luna-barnes14 | @musekala | @thechaosoflonging | @oikawasphlatass | @tremendousglitterthing | @kathya420 | @daninaninani | @maii-flowers | @akakuzumo | @tycrackculture | @gaychemicalwater | @mariachiii | @kiyoomile | @jaxneedshelp | @xs-hoodie | @preparingtofall |

(taglist continues in the replies!!)

[santigarcia]

Electric Plug 🔌

Human Touch Part Seven

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six

word count: 4.5k

rating: M for smut, dirty talk, slight mentions of violence and cheating (pls don’t read unless ur 18+!)

summary: You go see Nathan after his accident, and an old flame rekindles. 

a/n: thank you all so much for reading this series! let me know what yall think! thank you to @punkpascal​ and @sergeantkane​​ as always!!

You call the hospital, pleading with them to give you information if he’s ok. But all you hear is a loud click. This is the only time that Nathan’s fame bothers you. It makes you sick to think that people want to know if he’s ok for their gossip mags. You feel guilt, and that gnawing raw feeling deep in your gut that only he gave you.

For the next few weeks, you keep tabs on him. Your wedding is in less than a month, and you’ve spent more time stalking the internet for info on your ex than you have with your own wedding. But all the work is being done for you. Jack seems to be more involved in it than you.

All you can think about is Nathan. You suppose that’s a bad thing, right before your wedding. But you want to know he’s alright. He could have died thinking you hate him. And while you did for some time, you don’t anymore. If you’re being totally honest you kind of hated him even when you were together. He drove you insane sometimes, but you miss that.

As soon as you get the word Nathan has been sent home, you call your cousin up.

“Aren’t you getting married in a week?”

Yes, yes you are. But you need to see him. You tell her that you need to get a way for just a day or two, that the stress of the wedding is too much. She agrees to let you come up, and you plan to fly back to the states together.

It’s been so long since you got lost and showed up soaking wet at Nathan’s door. This time, you dress for the occasion. Your best little black dress. Sleek heels. You do your hair, makeup, and wear the perfume that used to drive him wild. You’re not entirely sure why you do this, but deep down you know. You just won’t admit it. You want him to admit he fucked up. You want him to want you back.

So, when you knock on his door, you yourself feel a little thrill. But the nerves hit. You haven’t spoken to him in at least two years, and neither of you got closure from the situation. You’re about to reopen a wound that’s barely healed.

Or maybe not – he’s not answering the door.

You start to bang on it, you know he’s home. The lights are on.

“Nathan! Open up!”

When the door finally opens, you’re greeted with Nathan, his face one of surprise, but it quickly turns to a scowl.

”I know I am the last person you want to see right now but-“

“What? What do you want?” he cuts you off. You think of all the things you want to tell him. To ask him. You want to apologize; you want him to apologize. You want to know if he’s ok. But that’s not what comes out.

“Ok I know things ended badly, but I'm getting married next week and-“ you grab him and kiss him deeply. Your tongue delves into his mouth, and he quickly deepens the kiss himself. “I need you.” You tell him, you’re breathless.

“You’re gonna regret this, baby,” he grabs your ass and pulls you to him, and somehow manages to close the door behind you both.

“Make me regret it,” you moan into him. Damn, you’ve missed this. This is the raw passion you’ve been missing. His strong arms hold you tight and he backs you into a wall. His hands are on your dress, already quick to hike it up over your hips.

With the quirk of a brow, he looks at you when he sees you’re without underwear. Ok, maybe this is what you wanted.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you, baby.” He sucks on your neck as he wraps your legs around his waist. His teeth almost hurt, but it’s a good pain, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. “You shouldn’t even be near here. Near me.”

“Please, I’m begging you,” you whine. You didn’t mean to sound this desperate but now that his hands and mouth are on you it just comes out. You claw at his shirt, wanting him to take it off. You need his skin on yours. He pulls back to tug it off, and in the process, he rips your dress open. This frees your bare chest, and he grabs your tits with a fiery aggression. He squeezes them and bites on your shoulder.

His chest is heaving, and the truth spills out.

“I missed you so fuckin’ much, you know that? No one takes my cock quite as well as you do.”

You hate that he’s right, and it only makes you wetter for him.

“No one gives it like you do,” you tell him, moaning trying to get him to push himself inside. You’re desperate, aching.

“Damn right.” He lightly smacks your clit, and you cry out. “I’m the only one who fucks this pussy right.”

“Please!” you buck your hips trying to urge him on. “I need you!”

He finally gives you what you want and thrusts into you hard. He fills you so well, and you choke out a gasp. He’s so proud of himself, he can’t let this moment slip by.

“Oh, you always take me so well kitten,” he grunts shifting his position and hitting you deeper. “This is my pussy, isn’t it? You love it when I fuck this tight pussy? Say it.”

“Nathan!” you dig your nails into his back, and he buries his face into your neck.

“Say it.”

“I love it when you fuck this tight pussy!” you scream as he rubs his thumb over your clit. He’s giving it hard, but you need it. You need all of him. And he fuckin’ knows it.

“Yeah, I can tell how much you love it,” he growls. “You love having my big cock inside you, don’t you? I bet your little fuck toy fiancé can’t fill you nearly as well as I do, does he?”

“No,” you gasp, “only you. I belong to you.”

“Good girl, fuck!” his head falls on your shoulder, he rubs your clit harder to match his heavy thrusts. “I want you to come for me and show me just how good you can be. Okay kitten?”

You whine and claw at him, “I’m so close, please! Let me come!”

“Do it. Come all over my fucking cock.”

With the sound of his voice and the press of his thumb, you find your release. It’s white hot and intense, and your lower back cramps from the intensity of your squeezing around him. You gasp for air and grunt while he still pushes into you. He’s chasing his high and you want him to hit it.

“FUCK! Fuck, can I come inside you?” his voice is full of need, he’s not above begging to fill you up.

“Do it,” you say back to him. “I want all of you.” And that’s the truth.

“Fuck, fuck. That’s it. Oohhh. Oh shit, you take my cum so well,” he chuckles and kisses your cheek. Your bodies still but your chests heave together.

“He doesn't - not like this.” In fact, he’s never given you such pleasure. It’s only ever about him.

“Poor baby, you’ve been neglected, haven’t you?” He smirks kissing you again. “Your thin dick fiancé can’t take care of you properly, hmm?”

“Nathan you wouldn't believe, he- he just doesn't- You know exactly what to do to get me soaked,” you sigh and flutter around him when he pulls out.

“I know you. More than just sexually.”

You nod, he truly does.

“Fuck we made a mess,” he grins and sets you down on the floor. Your knees tremble and your dress is torn around your waist. Nathan’s slick is sliding down your thighs. “Come on,” he hands you his shirt off the floor, and he pulls your torn-to-shreds dress off your body.

You follow him down the familiar maze of his home into your bedroom. You sit down on the bed and he disappears into the bathroom. He returns with a rag to clean you up, and when he’s finished, he lays down beside you. He curls up close to you and kisses your neck before he gets settled.

It’s quiet for a while. You just hold each other in silence. It’s nice. A still moment with him is what you’ve been missing.

He breaks the silence with a sigh, then comes the question you’ve been waiting for.

”Do… do you love him?”

Tears well up in your eyes, and you feel your chest tighten. Nathan’s calm, but you know he’s dying for an answer.

“I- I don't know anymore. I started dating him after we broke up because well, he wasn't you. And now that's- that's the problem. He's safe.  But he’s boring. And he only cares about himself.”

It’s as if you’re just now realizing what you’ve known all along.

“Don’t marry him.” It’s not a plea, it’s not a demand. It’s a casual statement. But when he buries his face in your neck that tells you how he really feels. “I know we didn’t part on the best of terms, but… fuck, I’ve missed you.”

“Really? I- I mean I know we just angry fucked – But I thought you would never wanna see me again. Especially after what I did to you. We both did stupid things.”

“Baby I missed you the whole time. Didn’t you know? I was angry and scared because I was in love with you and it just seemed better to let you go then to end up hurting you.” He sighs pulling you in closer, his lips press softly into your skin. “But then cuz I was an asshole I hurt you and pushed you out.”

“I know, I think I always knew.”

“And he’s cheating on you anyways.”

“What?”

“Oh shit, that’s right. You never saw the texts. I told you everything.”

You sit up and look down at him laying in the bed. He’s so gorgeous, it’s as if you’ve forgotten. You’re still that girl with a crush on him.

“I ignored the texts cuz I was mad at you over the AI. He’s really cheating on me?”

“I know,” he smiles sadly. “I’m onto new tech now though. Smart Home Devices. But yeah, shit baby, I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you. I stalked him online,” he clears his throat. “You know-“

“Cuz you were jealous,” you giggle and lean down to kiss the grey spot on his head.

“Ok, yeah fuck it I was. I wanted to see who I lost you to. But then it was pretty obvious he was cheating, and I tried to let you know, but you never answered.”

“I’m sorry about that, by the way. For not answering.”

“I’m sorry I did all that behind your back.”

“It’s just- if I had been here,” you start to sniffle. You look down at the scar on his chest, and it makes your heart pound. “What if something had happened, and I never got to tell you…” you wipe your tears on your sleeve. “Are you okay?” You reach out and touch the scar on his chest. His skin chills from your touch, but he’s still, he lets you touch him.

“I’m not okay without you. But yeah, I’m fine. Couple scars.”

“And what did you mean earlier? When you said you were in love with me? Was? Does this mean you aren't in love with me anymore? What am I even doing here? I don't know what to do anymore. Everyone has been making decisions for me. No one cares about what I want.”

“Hey, easy kitten.” That familiar nickname. “No, I… I’m still in love with you.” He sits up to cup your face, forcing you to look at him. “I want you to choose. if you want to stay… I want to be better for you. But I want you to make the choice yourself.”

“Nathan, I- the fact that you want me to choose is making me want to stay.”

“Then stay,” he strokes your cheek with his thumb. “But only if it’s what you think is best for you.”

“You're what's best for me, no one has cared for me like you do. And no one gets under my skin like you do either,” you lean up to kiss his lips. “Listen to me right now Nathan. If I do this, if I call off that wedding, you have to promise me right now some changes will be made around here. For both of us.”

“I promise. I swear. Name it and it’s done.”

“I'm not telling you to stop drinking, but go easy ok? You scare me sometimes when you overdo it.”

“Done. Truth be told, if I have you, I won’t really need to drink. Being with you… it quiets my mind. What else?”

“I wanna be the only one. If you need to, I don't know, fuck one of the AI’s for some science thing that's fine, just tell me about it and don’t lie to me. But if it's for you to blow off steam? Come get me. Ok?”

“You’re the only pussy I want, I promise. And I’m done with them. Could never get them wet and warm like you,” he winks and pulls you into his arms. “You’re all I need.”

“And last thing….I need you to help me think of a way to tell my family and my fiancé this whole thing is off,” you wince at the thought. Either way you’re breaking it off with Jack because he’s cheating but bringing Nathan back after having just slept with him means you cheated too. “Because I technically cheated on him with you,” you say aloud.

“Nah, kitten. You decided it was over with him the moment you came out here. Fuck having cold feet, you were done.”

“You’re right,” you sigh, you couldn’t admit it to yourself, but he sees right through you. He always has.

“I know,” he grins.

“Ugh you ass,” you shove his chest.

“Ow, my scar!” he flops back dramatically on the bed. You play along and kiss all over his face.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“I’m not. What if you had gotten hurt? I’d never forgive myself. I was already a damn mess after you left.”

You can’t curl into him any closer, but it doesn’t stop you from trying. His warmth is so comforting. The smell of his soap on his skin. The expensive beard oil. You’ve missed rubbing that into his beard. Everything about being close to him reminds you that this is right, this is what you want. He is who you want.

“What about the wedding? It’s next week,” you sigh. The thought fills you with dread having to cancel everything.

“What if you went through with it? And then I come in and crash the wedding,” he chuckles. “Always wanted to crash a wedding.”

“Wait, that’s not a bad idea,” you giggle.

“We can do anything you want, baby. Hell, I’ll crash your wedding and be your groom if you want.”

“Did you- did you just say what I thought you said?” you sit up to look at him, you want to read the expression on his face. His eyes are serious, but there’s a slight smile on his lips, he nibbles on his lip.

“If you wanted. I know we’ve never talked about that, but… I’d like to. I wouldn’t mind getting hitched,” he shrugs, but you know he means it.

“I thought you didn’t believe in marriage,” you feel tears welling up in your eyes. This changes everything.

“People assume that,” he chuckles sitting up, his hands rub your thighs. “I’m not opposed. And if it would make you happy, then why the hell not?”

“I want that more than anything!” you lean forward to kiss him, and he leans back pulling you with him. His thumb strokes your back while you kiss his cheeks and lips.

“Then let’s get married. I wanna make you Mrs. Bateman,” he hums kissing you and he squeezes your hip.

“You’re gonna hate Jack,” you laugh realizing they’ll have to meet at some point.

“He’ll hate me when he realizes I’m stealing his fiancé.”

“I can’t believe I was going to marry him. I felt like I had to. I was mad at you, and I thought that would be my way to get back at you by saying yes, even though I felt pressured. I don't know what made me come back here to you, but I'll spend the rest of my life glad I did.”

“You came back because I’m irresistible,” he gives you a playful look. “I’m glad you came. I’m so glad you’re back. I want you to make your own decisions, so… I really hope you don’t feel like you have to marry me.”

“No, I want to. I want to marry you. I want you in my life. You respect me enough to make my own decisions. And you know where my g-spot is.”

He snorts out a laugh, “Ahhh, yes, my primary function as your future husband. Honestly wouldn’t mind if you just used me like a glorified sex toy. That’d probably be hot.”

You smile and kiss him again. You can’t seem to stop, and you don’t want to. He wraps his arms around you and your legs tangle between the sheets. He pushes into you slowly, your bodies mold together and it’s everything you could want.

“I can’t wait to crash your wedding,” he muses. You laugh imaging the chaos.

“You can’t wait to make a scene, can you?”

“Kitten, I am the scene.”

“What am I getting myself into?” you laugh.

You fall asleep in his arms that night and leaving his warmth the next morning is one of the hardest things you do.

“It’s just a few more days kitten,” he reassures you. And you know that but having him and then leaving is worse than you could have imagined.

Now you have to go back and pretend you’re excited to marry Jack. The excitement part is easy, you are excited about getting married, just not to Jack. You almost feel guilty, living this lie. But then you remember Jack has been cheating on you this entire time.

You went back and read the texts Nathan sent you on your flight home. Some of them broke your heart. Some of them were genuinely funny and he was trying to make you laugh. Anger burned in you when you found the texts about Jack. It was plain as day and you felt stupid, you’d missed it. You know all these women and it makes so much sense. There’d be nights when he was gone and had no excuse to be out of the house.

You don’t blame Nathan for fucking one of his AI’s. He was stressed and overwhelmed with love for you he panicked. Sure, it was a dick move, and he wasn’t thinking straight. But he knew it was wrong and apologized for it. Over and over. He’d tell you later that after you left, he couldn’t get off like he could when he was with you. The AI fucking was over, and after one almost killed him, he gave it up.

But Jack is flat out cheating on you and has been lying about it for years. He had the nerve to propose to you while he had women on the side. You feel so stupid.

You’re out of it during the rehearsal dinner. You pay attention to nothing during the actual rehearsal. Nathan is going to be there tomorrow and break it all up. You feel those butterflies thinking about him coming to save you.

He’s nervous. He’s barely talked to you, but you know why. This is a big change for him, but one he’s ready to embrace. He’s not one to back down from a challenge.

You wake up the day of your wedding with a text from Nathan. All it says is “good morning.”

If there was any doubt he wouldn’t show up, this blew them all away. He’ll be there.

You just don’t know when.

It changes everything. When you put on your dress, all your bridesmaids and family comment on how you’re glowing and radiant. You got this dress with Nathan in mind, you can’t wait for him to see you in it.

There’s a tremble in your step as you’re escorted down the aisle. No one knows the secret you’re hiding.

It’s at this moment you start to get anxious. You don’t know when he’ll interrupt. What if he backs out and you have to leave Jack in the middle of the ceremony?

Jack takes your hands; your heartbeat is rapid and sweat is on your palms. This isn’t the man you want, and it’s taking all of your willpower to not turn and look for Nathan.

The minister opens his mouth to speak when you hear a loud “STOP.”

Everyone else turns with shock to see Nathan at the end of the aisle, but you- you’re beaming, and tears fall down your cheeks.

His expression is soft, his eyes look like they’re about to spill over with tears. You’ve never seen him look so handsome. His beard is trimmed, he’s in tight grey slacks and a crisp white dress shirt. The sleeves are rolled up on his forearms, and you want to eat him alive he looks so good.

You waste no time running down the aisle to him. His arms open ready to catch you in a hug when you leap for him. He chuckles when your bodies touch- the air knocked out of him.

“Hey gorgeous,” he kisses your cheek. “You ready?” he asks stroking your cheek softly.

You nod and he takes your hand.

“Don’t look back.”

You take his hand; he squeezes it tight and you walk out front where a sleek black car is waiting for you. It takes you into town to the justice of the peace. The two of you thought this was simpler – and more appropriate than crashing a wedding and taking it over for your own. And as much as Nathan likes to make a scene, a smaller ceremony is more his speed.

“You look beautiful,” he tells you as you walk inside. He can’t take his eyes off you.

“Just don’t rip this one in half,” you snort out a laugh taking his arm.

“Baby, I’ll buy you a new one,” he pretends to pout.

When you reach the office, you gasp to see a handful of your immediate family standing there waiting for you.

“How did you-“ you gape looking around at them all.

“Called your family ahead of time,” Nathan shrugs. “Consider it one of my many wedding gifts to you baby.”

You marry him there in that little office. His warm hands cup your cheeks when he pulls you in for a kiss. He cries. It’s exactly the kind of wedding you pictured with him. No mess. No fuss.

But you take full advantage of the reception. Everyone else is there and is happy to welcome you. You’re glad for it because you finally get some good quality pictures of you and Nathan together.

He indulges you in all the little wedding reception traditions. He feeds you a bite of cake, and maybe kisses you a little too dirty for that crowd, but you can’t be bothered to care.

The best surprise of the night is when he pulls you on the dancefloor. His arms wrapped tight around you as you sway together.

“Where do you want to go on our honeymoon?” he asks you. “Anywhere you want to go. Name it.”

“Anywhere there’s a bed,” you giggle. You lay your head on his shoulder and breathe deeply. This is where you’re meant to be.

Your dance ends when the DJ starts to play a funky disco song. And it’s all Nathan can do not to start dancing right away. You burst out laughing and let him go. He dances all around you while tears of laughter stream down your face. A little crowd has gathered around watching him and he doesn’t even see them, only you.

He takes a bow when that song ends, and you can’t remember the last time you’ve laughed that hard.

The moment turns when a very drunk Jack walks in.

“Oh no,” you grab Nathan’s arm. He pushes you behind him when Jack makes his way towards the two of you. His speech is slurred, and his hair is a mess.

“So, this is who you left me for?” he looks Nathan up and down. Nathan’s jaw is ticked in anger, but he doesn’t want to waste his time on him.

“You were cheating on me, anyway, why do you care?” you shake your head. You’re still so angry at him.

“So? Didn’t you say he was too?” he jabbed a finger onto Nathan’s chest. He brushed him off and breathed out his nose like an angry bull ready to charge.

“It was a mistake dude, and I regret it every fuckin’ day.”

“Did she tell you? She called me Nathan in bed? How I had to live with the reminder of you?”

“Oh, so cheating makes it better?” Nathan’s blood pressure was beginning to rise.

“Well, I needed to get pussy from somewhere, since she wasn’t putting out-“ Jack could barely finish his sentence before Nathan’s fist collided with his nose – breaking it.

Jack leaned back holding his bloody nose as Nathan grabbed him by his shirt collar.

“Don’t you ever insult my wife like that again.”

Jack wanted to swing back and attempted. But Nathan caught his fist, and punched Jack in the stomach. Shame more than anything else sent Jack on his way.

Nathan turned to you to apologize for making a scene, but you’ve never been so attracted to him as you have in this moment. Your new husband just defended your honor.

“Take me home,” you wrap your arms around him.

“You wanna join the-mile-high club? Or can we go fuck in your childhood bedroom since your house isn’t far from here? Do you have any posters of me on your wall?”

You shake your head with a laugh and playfully smack his arm. You pull away from him and greet a family member, and Nathan chases after you.

“That’s not an answer. Babe! Do you have one?”

“Would it make a difference if I said yes?” you grin turning back to him. You loop your hands around his neck, and he puts his hands on your hips.

“Fuck. Fuck, it would make a huge fuckin’ difference. Can we spend the honeymoon in your room?”

“So, you can look at a poster of yourself while you have sex with your new wife?” your smile gets bigger and bigger.

“Fuck. What picture is it?”

“Nathan!”

“Just kidding,” he smiles kissing your lips. “I booked us a nice hotel for our first night.”

“No posters in there,” you giggle.

“I’ll buy one,” he kisses you deeper. “Do you really have one of me in your room-“

He’ll find out soon enough, but you’re not going to tell him that you don’t just have one – but two.

 xx

  tagging: @pascal-isaac​​, @wasicskosgirl​​, @velvetmel0n​​, @huliabitch​​, @shadow-assassin-blix​​, @writefightandflightclub​​, @aellynera​​, @softboywriting​​, @veuliee2​​, @spider-starry​​, @mylifeliterally​​, @millllenniawrites​​, @ntlmundy​​, @foxilayde, @writingletterstothefire​​, @mandoplease​​, @anetteaneta​​, @feelmyroarrrr​​, @artsymaddie​​, @shakespeareanwannabe​​, @poedameronsbeard​​, @deanfanatic67​​​, @magicsuperheroes​​​, @phoenixhalliwell​​​, @that-one-weird-one​​​, @mariesackler, @yourbucky084​​​, @woakiees​

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

A NEW EXPERIENCE

Prompt: You and Roman have been together for 7 years now,and on the night of your 5th year wedding anniversary,you have a new way to demonstrate your love for him

Word count: Uh girl,grab a snack ‘cuz this one is long!

Pairing: Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: +18 smut,cursing,slight self-degradation,fluff(at the end),a lot of intimacy and Tantric Massage(yes,you’ve heard it right 😉)

A little disclaimer,before we continue: Tantra is a middle eastern (more precisely Indian) philosophy and spiritual path,the tantric massage itself is a wonderful experience that DOES NOT involves any sort of sexual interaction such as penetration or masturbation!Yes it does involve yoni/lingam massage(vagina/penis massage) but the whole goal of it it’s not orgasm/ejaculation.It can happen of course,’cuz we’re humans but if it can it has to be delayed/controlled since that’s not a goal to be reached,it’s a full body experience and a deeper self connection and healing journey.So if someday you reach out a PROFESSIONAL for this especific massage,keep all this things in mind,please.The only reason I’ve included sex on this it’s because the characters in this story are married and got carried away(also because,it’s Roman I mean,who wouldn’t?). Also they don’t live the Tantra as a philosophy or spiritual path at all! It’s just a new way of working they intimacy together as a couple.It is NOT my intention to degrade ANY form of philosophy/spiritual path from anyone’s beliefs,this is for entertainment purposes only,and also a new way for me to write about new/different themes(or personal study topics of mine) for my stories. I have a deep love for middle eastern cultures and an even deeper love for studying different types of philosophy/spiritual paths.

Tag: My soul sister @ziasaph

Notes: Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.

Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

Today’s my 5th year wedding anniversary with my lovely husband,Roman.We’ve been together for 7 years now.The first time I met him,I gotta say, I hated him! There was something about him that screamed trouble.He was too good to be true,I mean,he was incredibly handsome,polite,thoughtful,kind,loving,funny,intelligent,respectful(a true gentleman really),the best kiss I’ve ever had and don’t even get me started on this man’s bedroom skills...No man ever fucked me like that,no man ever cared much more about my pleasure than with he’s own,no man could make me feel like a goddess the way he could..you see what I mean?He couldn’t be an honest good man right?!And I knew better!Oh I really did..I’ve always had a “rotten finger” when it came to my men choices.If you putted me in a room with two guys,a truly good man and a shitty asshole,I would’ve had 100% chose the latter.Maybe for the “fun” of it or even just to prove my Freudian fate,who knows?

But when I decided to finally give in to the Samoan’s charm and accepted to finally officially date him,I discovered why he smelled like trouble,because as soon as I found out I was in love with him I knew I had lost my whole heart to that man!And if you came from a emocional troubled background,like I did,you know that that’s the worst case scenario one could ever have.But funny enough,despite my deepest fears,he changed my whole world,he dragged me out of the shit pit I’ve always lived in and pushed me into the light beside him,making me forget everything bad that ever happened to me,transforming my reality into the fairytale I could never had imagined.If you told me,7 years ago,that right now I would be here telling you this same story,I would have have bitterly laughed at your face and asked you to give me a hit of whatever it is that you had.

But here I am,finishing to set up one of our guests room for the surprise I had in mind for my husband.I’m sure that this will never repay him for the way he always made me feel,but at least I hope he can have a bit of a glimpse of how much I truly love and care for him.

I was lighting up the last pair of candles when I heard the front door open,his deep sigh and the loud thump of his bags dropping on the living room floor.

“Y/N,baby girl? You home?” That voice alone could bring the biggest,truthful smile upon my lips.I put the lighter on my jacket’s pocket,carefully closing the guest room door and I ran downstairs to meet my redemption in form of a man.

“Roman!” I squealed while I preceded to jump on his arms and wrap my legs around his waist,kissing him like I would never see him again.

“Wow!” He chuckled “I see someone missed me those 3 weeks,huh?!” Still laughing,he wrapped his big arms around my waist and retributed my kiss vigorously.

“Of course I missed you baby!You’re my Samoan Prince Charming,how could I not miss that?!”I laughed.

“Prince Charming,huh?!”He chuckled “You wait ‘til you see what I wanna do to you...I’m pretty sure you’re gonna change your mind from prince charming to tramp real quick!”He smirks and I can already feel my panties getting damp with excitement.

“Oh really,big guy?! Well I’m sorry,but I’m about to piss in your yard and ruin your dreams!’Cuz I already have a surprise for you,and that took a lot of prep time too,so as much as I would love to see what you have in mind that will have to wait,at least ‘til later.”

“Piss in my yard?!Oh baby girl,always so delicate with your words!”He laughed

“What? I’m expressive,you know that!Also if anyone here is the well mannered,polite and posh one that’s you,I’m just you know,rough street trash”.I bitterly said

“Hey!Don’t say that,please.You know that I don’t like when you degradate yourself like that.You’re not trash,you’re my everything!And let’s be honest here baby, I love your rough side..”He squeezed my ass,to prove his point.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna get all worked up,and you’re going to ruin my surprise...” I whispered

“Ok,ok.I stopped!”He chuckled,then gave me a light peck on the lips before lowering me down to the ground.”So what do you have planned?”

“You know it’s called surprise for a reason right?!”I said.

“Oh c’mon Y/N! Not even a little preview baby?” He gave me those beautiful puppy eyes,and the bastard knew that I would give in.

“Argh,you’re the worst!”I faked an annoyed face,but he knew I was pretending so he just smiled and I couldn’t help but smile back.”Ok the only,ONLY thing I will tell you is that it involves a large amount of intimacy..I’ve never done that to anyone before..and it’s an incredible experience.That’s all I’m saying!”I proudly huffed.He stared at my face for an eternity before he slowly smirked at me saying “You do realize that you said you were going to tell me just ONE thing about it,but you ended up telling me THREE instead,right?!” He started laughing when I poked his broad chest saying “Shut up! You know,you’re lucky I love you,because otherwise I would just kick your ass right now.”I tried to hold back my laugh,but that soon was forgotten when he kissed my lips so slowly and sweet and said “I don’t have a doubt you could kiss my ass at anytime baby.” He lazily smiled at me,before his expression turned more serious. “I love you Y/N so fucking much!” He caresses my face before continuing “I’m so happy I could take a few days off to be with you,to celebrate the 7 years we’ve been together..and the many more years yet to come” He pecked my lips lightly “I could never have asked for a better woman,wife,best friend,lover,supporter..my own personal safe harbor.” He shyly smiled at me and pressed our foreheads together,and I couldn’t help the tears escaping through my eyes.

“Oh baby girl, I didn’t meant to make you cry!” He said

“Those are happy tears I promise!” I sighed “Besides,I feel bad that I can’t say such beautiful things to you,I’m sorry baby,that you got the product made with a broken mold” I sadly sighed.

“Hey,I already told you to stop saying those bad things about yourself! Also you don’t have to apologize,I know everything you went through and it’s normal for someone in your position to be a little careful when showing your fellings,and trust me babe, I don’t need your words to know that you love me,your actions already do the job!” The smile he gave me was so sincere that reached his eyes.And I really hope that my actions tonight will prove his statement to be right.

“So,when do you plan on giving me my surprise?” He asked with a sparkle in his eyes.And I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Well the first thing I need to know is if you’re already fed?”

“Yep! I stopped by a cafe on my way home and ate something light,like you asked me to”. He responded

“Good!Now I’m gonna need you to take a shower so you can wash away the tiredness of your flight,towel yourself dry,but don’t put any clothes on I’m gonna need you naked for this.” He maliciously smirked at me.

“You need me naked,huh?” He licked his lips “Ok,sounds like a great surprise so far..”

“Yes it is! And if I were you, I would hurry up..”

With that he ran off to the bathroom like a little boy,and a few seconds later I could hear the water running.

As soon as I finished stripping the last piece of clothing off my body,I heard the bathroom door open and Roman call for me.

“I’m in the guest room.The one near the stairs.” A few seconds later, I see him entering the room.

“Wow,this looks beautiful!” Since we never used that room as a guest room,it didn’t had a bed(which helped a lot) I just cleaned the hardwood floor,placed a big extra thick(about 40mm) yoga exercise mat in the center of the room,a lot of candles(some were sandalwood scented,but not many,so it doesn’t get too nauseating.Just enough to give that relaxing feeling),some rose petals around the floor, a few cozy cushions around the yoga mat and a little low table with one massage candle and a large thermical water bottle(to keep the water cold and fresh).It wasn’t much but it did look cozy and spa like.

“Did you like it?”

“If I like it?Baby girl it’s perfect!”Then he looked at my naked body and added “Perfect indeed” as he slowly lowered down to catch my lips in the most romantic kiss. When I broke the kiss(‘cuz if it was for him,we would stay there for hours) I begin to explain to him what my surprise was.

“I was thinking what I could give you for our 5th year anniversary that wasn’t bought from a store,but had more of a deep sentimental value” He slowly nodded

“I was talking to Sarah and she told me that Lisa,her new girlfriend is a Tantric massage therapist and had given her a tantric massage one day,she said it was the best experience she’s ever had.So I got curious and decided to make an appointment with her and babe” I sighed “I’ve never had in my life,such an amazing experience! The feeling is...I can’t describe,you have to feel it to understand it. My point is,Lisa told me that tantric massage can be used by couples as a form of bonding,like a deeper connection. It can be used to strengthen they’re intimacy.” When I saw the confused look on his face I said

“What I’m trying to say is that I love you so much” He smiles “I love you too baby girl” I smiled back,continuing my explanation “And I know that you’re the best man I could’ve ever had asked for myself!Even too good for me,but my point is that,it makes me upset that I don’t tell you as often as I would like to how much you mean to me,so I asked Lisa for some advice on how to perform a tantric massage on you and thought that,maybe it would be a nice way to show you how I truly feel,through this” I pointed out to the set up in front of us,smiling shyly.

“I-I..baby girl, I don’t even know what to say...This is all so beautiful, I mean, you didn’t need to make all this to show me that you care or love me babe,I know that regardless” he touched my face softly and quickly added “But that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about your surprise..In fact I’m quite excited to see what this is all about” He has a evil sparkle on his eyes and we both couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ok big dog,I gonna need you to lay down on your stomach for me,okay?”

He smiled and did as I asked.

I kneeled down on one of the cushions beside the yoga mat and said

“Alright baby,now,I need you to close your eyes,relax and just focus on my touch upon your skin ok?” When he nodded I grabbed the massage candle and started by dripping some of the wax into his ankles and calves,lightly spreading the melted wax up,until it reaches his back thighs.

I remembered that Lisa told me that this should not be a relaxing massage,in the sense of quizzing in the muscles to bring relief,but it was more focused on the touch it self,so I had to keep a very lightweight touch and make sure that only my finger tips(and occasionally my finger nails if I wanted to) touched his skin lightly.

When I reached his back thighs I notice Roman shifting his weight ever so slightly.

*Oh thank God,I’m doing this right!* I thought to myself relieved.

I dripped more wax,now,onto his perfect round ass and lower back.As I begin working out the wax and spreading it I heard a deep,low,almost inaudible,growl leave his lips and I couldn’t help but smile to myself.I let my finger nails just lightly roam his ass,lower back and side hips.I was so lost in the action that I was caught by surprise when a loud moan left Roman’s lips.

“Y/N..”

I grabbed the candle again and repeated the same process but now on his middle and upper back,shoulders,in the back of his arms and forearms,the palm of his hands,his fingers,neck and ears.

When I reached his head,I lightly dive my finger tips through his hair so I could reach his scalp and begin lightly massaging it,as if I was washing his hair,when I very lightly scratched his scalp I heard a very familiar sound

“Mmmmm fuck,oh shit...Mmmmm”

*Hold on..did he just? Oh I know THAT sound,I think he came!* I thought to myself

I lightly tapped his shoulder twice(a sign for him to turn onto his back) and when he did I could see that I was right,as there were evidences of his cum not only on his stomach but also on the yoga mat,and his deliciously thick erection resting on his belly.

I placed a cushion under his hips and one under the back of his head before I repeated the same previous actions.Starting from the soles of his feet,working my way up his shin,knees,thighs,lower abdomen,hips,abdomen,ribs,chest,nipples,side of the neck,face,front shoulders,biceps,forearm and the front of his hands.

Once I got up and placed myself on the mat,between his legs, I looked at him and I could swear that in 7 years,I’ve never seen that man with such a wild,primal,raw,luscious look on his face.

“Ro?”

“Hm?” I’ve never heard his voice so rough before

“We’re going to the last step now,ok?”

“Mhmm” was all he answered with his gaze glued to my face

I dripped some wax onto my hands and rub them together to spread it.

I took his length into my left hand,lightly squeezed the base of his cock and started to pull my hand up towards the head until my hand slides off,just so I could grabbed it with my right hand and repeat the same steps.

“Oh my fucking God” He rolled his eyes to the back of his head “ Sweet fucking Christ,Oohhh fuuuck” He moaned with a raspy voice.

I took the opportunity to massage the head of his cock in a orange juicer motion.

“Argh” He deeply growled,snapped his eyes open and look at me with a deadly look on his face “Fuck me Y/N! I need you to fuck me right now! Come here and ride me nice and hard baby”

“But Roman,I’m not done ye-“

“I don’t give a fuck!” He gritted “I need you,and I need you right now! Just come here,and put my cock inside that sweet tight pussy baby” He smirked in an almost demonic way and I immediately straddle his hips.

Once I lined his cock to my entrance he quickly thrusted inside of me,making me gasp.

While he gave sometime to adjust he said

“Oh it feels good to be home!” He chuckled

“Baby girl, I don’t know what you did or how,but we’re definitely gonna be doing this more often!” He smiled deviously before he holded my hips in place so he could fuck me like a maniac.

“Oh Ro,fuck”

I’ve never felt him so thick,so deep and so hard inside of me.He was fucking me at a pace so brutal that it was almost deliciously painful.

He grabbed my wrists from his chest and rapidly tugged me down so our chests were glued to each other’s,he took the opportunity to ferociously kiss my lips while he preceded to fuck me brutally.

“Ro,baby,I’m gonna-“

I couldn’t even finish my sentence,because my orgasm hit me so hard that I couldn’t even breathe properly.

“Oh fuck me baby! So fucking tight...so warm...” He gritted “So insanely wet”

With that I could feel his cock throbbing and the hot spurts of his cum inside of me.

When he released his last spurt,we look at each other’s eyes and shared the most passionate loving kiss.When we broke the kiss I said

“I love you Ro,so much”

“With your heart,body and soul?” He lightly smiled,remembering his own words said to me on our wedding vows.

I smiled back before answering without a doubt

“With all of my heart,my whole body and my only soul”

And it was in that moment that I knew I couldn’t have picked a better surprise for the owner and of my heart,body and soul.

[agentspirmoff]

Maine x Reader

Show:Red vs blue

Paring:Maine x Reader

Prompt:"You wouldn't be in this shape if you knew when to quit"

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

The bullet wound hurt like a bitch.

I mean what else did you expect from a danm bullet but I never had taken one in the stomch before and the new burning hurt.

This mission was supposed to be an easy in and out, kill only who interferes, but had quickly changed to an escape mission.

Wash had made a rookie mistake, leaving his left side open causing me to jump infront of him and take the bullet.

Maine, my boyfriend of 5 months, growled and charged to us as wash held down the fire.

"Dispatch we have one wounded how far away are you", I heard wash say in the coms as he continued to fire.

I was holding back a scream as another wave of pain rushed through my body.

"I am 5 minutes out get to the west landing pad quick", 479er said through the coms.

Maine finally got to our side and was crouched by me, one of his hands pressing down on my stomch.

"You'll be ok", he growled out, and carefully lifted me into his arms.

I let out a scream as his arm bumped against my waist, pain shooting up my spine.

"Maine I'll cover you guys, just go", wash called out and the sound of more gunfire was heard in the background.

Maine huffed and then took off torwards the west landing dock, listening to me, as I let out small whimpers.

"I'm now landing, shit maine what happened to her", 479er said through are coms, the only response she got was maines growl.

The pain was starting to numb itself and my eyelids felt droopy as maine quickly treaded up into the pelican.

479er had gotten one of the bunks out and had gotten a few of the medical equipment out.

Maine laid me out on the bed and undid my helmet, throwing it back, as another scream left my lips.

"Hold on honey this is gonna sting and your gonna want to drink this", 479er said giving me a bottle of whiskey.

"Maine go and help wash", she commanded and received a growl from him before he dashed back out.

I took a sip of the whiskey, ignoring the burning that it caused as she began to take off all my armor.

The blood had already seeped into my body suit as she peeled that off.

I kept chugging the whiskey down and held back a scream as she put a wipe to the wound, apologizing.

Maine and wash eventually boarded the pelican again.

"Maine I need you to put pressure on her wound, try and stop the bleeding", 479er told maine as he came to kneel where she'd been.

Wash came over and kneeled infront of my face,"shit I'm so so sorry (state/name)".

I let out a laugh, the Wiskey was clearly in my system and the pain was slowly being numbed.

"Its fine wash we'll get back to M.O.I and I'll get stitched up", I joked taking another swig.

Maine turned his helemt to me and growled.

I shakily reached my hand out and touched maines helmet, as he softly growled.

My vision was starting to blur, as my hand fell back from his helemt and I rolled my head backwards closing my eyes.

"Shit no no no (s/n) keep your eyes open dont you dare close them", then you slipped into oblivion.

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

I hoped I wasnt dead.

There was no sign that I was dead, no angle nor devil, but then again maybe this was death.

But again their was that loud annoying beeping sound, that beeped every other godamn minute.

My body had also been numbed till I felt this tingle in my fingers.

There was a weight on my fingers and then I could wiggle them around, and the weight lifted before lacing with my fingers.

This feeling slowly spread till even my eyes felt numb and I couldnt see my body anymore.

Then I slowly began to lift them, only to see a blinding light.

I groaned and closed my eyes before opening them again to the bright light, so maybe this was heaven.

I heard a growl from my left, the place where my fingers had been numb now were warmed by the fingers of my boyfriend.

Maine sat at a chair by the edge of the hospital bed, looking at me as his thumb traced circles on the back of my hand.

I tried to sit up before a peircing pain shot through my stomch and made me gasp outloud.

Maine immediately bolted up and pressed his hands against my shoulder, pushing me back against the bed.

"Rest", he growled, reaching over to a little counter where a a glass of water and 2 small green pills sat.

Picking then up, he held them out to me and growled,"numbing pills".

I crossed my arms over my chest and pouted, but he kept holding them out.

I took them and groaned causing maine to look up at me.

"I'm fine just dont like taking pills", I told him.

"You wouldnt be in this shape if you hadn't been reckless", maine managed to growl out and I huffed.

"I couldnt let wash just get shot though", I defended wash and maine let out a growl.

"Yes you could of", he growled and I reached my hand out till it touched his cheek.

He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch,"maine hes a rookie, and rookies make mistakes, it was just a bullet wound, I'll heal".

Maine sighed and I patted the bed,"you should definitely come up here and cuddle me cuz I'm cold", I asked him.

He tilted his head and I offered him the best smile I could, the medicine was starting to make me sleepy.

Maine was a big cuddle bug, despite him being so big and feared by many of the crew on the M.O.I.

He got up and I was glad he wasnt in his armor, instead in a pair of Jean's and white shirt.

I scooted over and let him lay beside me before wrapping my arms around his middle, laying my head against his chest.

His arms went to wrap around my smaller frame and he pressed a kiss to my head.

"I love you maine", I wispeared and heard him growl back contently.

[mymindwide]

I’m gonna heal you

Pairing: Ashton x Female reader

Word count: 2059

Warning: none, this is full on fluff with one mention of a prevoius sexual encounter.

Summary: Your boyfriend fell sick, and you’ll see a side of him you haven’t before, while you two share cute moments because of it.

Author’s Note: It was written more than a year ago. Again something I didn’t think I’ll post, but here we are. :) (If you bump into any grammar mistakes, I apologise in advance, that’s because english is not my native language.) Nevermind, I hope you’ll enjoy it!

***

You have a very bad habit, but at least you’re getting better and better while practicing it.

For a while now when you wake up earlier than Ashton (which is almost every single day), and give him his morning kiss he doesn’t even notice it, and you like it that way. Whatever body part you can reach – it always depends on what position he’s sleeping in at the moment of your waking. Sometimes it’s one of his cheeks, sometimes a shoulder, his neck, his forehead. You couldn’t explain why it’s so important to you, maybe you’re just weird, and like watching and admiring him while he sleeps. Knowing how hard they work, it just feels good to see him not worrying about anything and just having a well-deserved rest, even for a few hours.

But this morning something didn’t feel right, not like usually. As your mouth gently touched his temple, his skin felt strangely hot against your lips. You knew you should check it again, but the thought itself made you sweat, because you were not sure he wouldn’t wake up this time. But you convinced yourself pretty quickly that it’s for the good of him, and if he runs a temperature indeed, he needs to wake up anyway to take something in as soon as possible.

You leaned back again and pressed your lips against his temple, and then you tried it with the back of your right hand while your left one checked your own forehead for comparison. Miraculously he didn’t wake up, or leastways didn’t show any sign of will to move or open his eyes, his breathing remained steady, although at this point you wouldn’t even care, because he definitely had fever. Murmuring a low “fuck”, you headed for the bathroom to pick up the thermometer and went back with it to the seemingly sleeping boyfriend.

“Sweetie, just keep it there and do not move, please. We have to measure your temperature” you put the thermometer in his armpit.

He muttered something with his eyes still closed, but on one hand, you didn’t understand, on the other hand you left him there to check what medication you have in the bathroom cabinet. You were happy to acknowledge that you were fully prepared for such disasters, albeit since you moved in with him, thankfully, you didn’t even need to open the medicine box.

You had a slight guess about the possible outcome of this fever measurement, therefore with quick steps you ran to the kitchen to make a tea for your newfound patient. Coming back you put the tea on the nightstand and reached for the thermometer to reveal the truth. 102,2 Fahrenheit.

“Double fuck” escaped your lips as you looked at the display of the digital thermometer.

“Do we have to? I’m not feeling too well” came a drawn-out groan from Ashton.

“No shit Sherlock…” but of course this assumption made you smile. “I wasn’t talking about wanting to fuck. I’m talking about you having a fever. 102,2 °F actually.”

“Oh” this seemingly woke him up as he pushed himself up on the bed.

“Whatever you were planning to do today with the guys, it is out of the question now. And take these in” dropping an antipyretic and painkiller pill on his palm you gave him the now not so hot cup of tea you’d made.

“Yeah I guess so. I’ll tell them” he said before swallowing the pills.

“I’ll be here if you need anything” you indicated the living room. “Lay back and try to take a rest or sleep back” you pecked his forehead.

You turned back from the doorway just to look at him once again, and the cutest sight caught hold of your eyes. Or leastwise your sick girlfriend heart considered it cute… he was sitting in the same position you left him a few seconds ago and just stared in front of him, wasn’t even blinking, you could almost see his brain still processing the info that he most likely got sick. End of the world. You felt for him, you really did, but he looked so lost it was cute. He looked adorably useless and that’s certainly something you have not seen him yet.

For you the bright side of the situation is that at least you really can be here and look after him, since last night you could cook while he was out with his friends. In the background you heard him run a shower.

“So much for resting… but at least it’ll help him cool that body temperature down a bit, so after all it’s not a bad idea at all” you thought.

You made yourself comfortable on the couch and already decided you’ll watch a movie that is entertaining enough to switch off your brain for a few hours, and you exactly knew which one is the perfect choice that meets your high expectations and requirements.

While you were considering your options Ash finished with the shower too and joined you in the living room wearing his leisure pants and a clean white t-shirt.

“Is everything okay? I mean besides the obvious.” you tilted your head back against the sofa backrest to look up at him.

“I have a headache and I start feeling my throat.”

“Sounds like the definition of miserable.”

“Right?! Thank you.”

“Would you like to join me?” you smiled at him grabbing a pillow from the couch that you laid on your lap tapping it a few times.

You didn’t have to ask him twice; picking up the plush blanket which is constantly lying at the end of the sofa he laid down, wrapped himself under the blanket; his head resting on the pillow in your lap, his posture facing the TV. Your fingers, as a pavlovian reflex, dived into his gorgeous hair, whisking away a few stray curls from his face.

“And what are we doing?”

“I was about to watch the greatest movie of all time.”

“The Pursuit of Happyness?”

“Nope, Avengers: Infinity War.”

“That Hiddleston again.”

“Hon, you know he’s going to be killed off in the 10th minute into the movie, right?” you had to laugh.

“Good. He deserves it.”

“What is it? Do I hear jealousy?” you got bloody happy and started enjoying your conversation even more.

“Abslttthhaa nauh” he mumbled something under his nose that reminded you of absolutely not.

"Last time I checked it's not him who's lying on my lap dying."

"Lucky for him, cuz that'd be the last thing he does..."

“Ashton, you’re killing me” you couldn’t contain your laughter.

“Wasn’t kidding.”

“I know” you grinned as your thumb stroked his cheek.

This new Ashton entertained you more and more. You leaned forward to blow tiny kisses on his temple and yoke bone leading a path to his ear.

“Also, last time I checked it wasn’t him who had his way with me on the kitchen counter the other day…” the tip of your nose brushed his ear as you whispered and the mention of your latest lovemaking made a smug smile spread across his face. “And do you know what else I remember?! I remember moaning a three letter name, but it wasn’t Tom… help me out… oh wait, that’s it, it was Ash...” you were trying to add a slight annoyance to the tone of your voice.

“Convinced enough?”

“I have no strength to disagree” reaching back for your right hand to take it in his, he towed it to his lips and planted a kiss on your wrist. Without saying anything he interlaced your fingers and just pulled it to his chest. As if his grumpiness had been cut off, he nestled a bit to find the perfect and most comfortable position, then got fully relaxed and your left hand slipped back into his hair to caress and massage his scalp, to play with his soft black locks.

“Alright, play it, I want to see if he resurrects for the millionth time” he egged you to press the play button to start the movie.

“Oh, we’ll see…” you smiled insinuatingly.

“You’re just joking, right?” he turned his head upwards to look at you. “No, you’re not. They just can’t get rid of that guy, can they?”

“Get comfortable baby, two and a half hour fun just awaits for us” you winked.

Although you watched the movie together, you were pretty sure Ash's thoughts were going somewhere else since you weren’t even like 40 minutes in, when he started playing with your fingers. Your eyes jumped back and forth from the TV to your hands, but eventually your attention ended up on what he was doing. His fingertips grazed your palm and fingers with slow, tender and deliberate moves; it felt intimate like never before, as if he touched your hand for the first time, he went from finger to finger, as if he wanted to get to know and memorize the shape of your hand, the feel of your skin.

Your first thought was “if he won’t stop I’m gonna cry”. But he didn’t stop and eventually and surprisingly you did not cry either, although this scene undoubtedly made you quite emotional, because you haven’t seen him this cuddly in a long time. He’s an affectionate man, but definitely not a clinging one. And you really enjoyed this situation; sometimes you crave this kind of attention like air.

A few more minutes have passed during which your focus returned back to the screen. You felt his hand stopped playing with yours, and with his eyes closing shut he turned over and nuzzling his face close to your belly he fell asleep pretty quickly. Getting your right hand back, now it could rest on his waist, while your other hand could keep caressing his hair, neck, shoulder, just with extra carefulness not wanting to wake him up.

By the end of the movie he still laid on your lap breathing smoothly, and watching him made you think about him being such a positive force. Not only in your life but so many others’, as well. Family, friends, members of other bands whom they met only sporadically…  You loved listening to their stories about Ash being nice and thoughtful and polite. That’s how he treats people in general, even strangers. It’s so effortless for him, yet you have no idea how he does that.  Always thinks about making others happy, but is he happy? Do you make him happy? You can only hope, because he deserves the world. At this point, an unpleasant feeling put a stop to your train of thought.

As much as you didn’t want to do it, and wished to stay like this forever, it was time for you to stand up since you started feeling your legs getting numb after sitting stock-still for the last two and a half hours.

“Ash” leaning over his face you started caressing his cheek with your nose.

Your technic was clearly successful, because he slowly turned over nuzzling his nose against yours demanding more contact. You kissed his cheek, his nose, the corner of his mouth, while he enjoyed the love showering on him.

Soon your lips met in very light kisses that became needier with every touch from Ashton’s side, as you felt his tongue brush over your upper lip. Your heart ached but you had to pull back an inch ending the connection between your lips resulting in a dissatisfied moan escaping his lips.

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but if we go into this deeper, you may risk losing your nurse to a deadly disease” you whispered smiling on his lips.

“I’ll make it up to you… in a few days… when I get better” he said sleepily.

“Make up for what?”

“For the canceled double fuck.”

“I can’t with you, Irwin. I swear to you I’ll lock you up in the bedroom until you sleep enough.” you had to laugh tho.

“But you love me.”

“Yes, yes I do. What a correct observation.”

“Good, because I love you, too.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Now come Captain Obvious, let’s sleep a bit more.”

And with this you took his hand in yours and led him into the paradise of peacefulness that is your hospital room for the next few days.

[owl-with-a-pen]

What if Nia had gotten so angry at lex after what happened with brainy, she went to go try and kill him? 😳 and brainy had to stop her. We’ve seen the dark side of brainy before but never in Nia really, discluding “reality bytes”

- Oooh, I like this idea a lot! I brought a few more characters into play for this as well, hope you don’t mind!

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Nia stormed past Kara for the third consecutive time, swivelling on her foot just shy of hitting the far wall so that she could continue pacing across Lena’s lab. Her hands were clenched so tightly together that her fingers were beginning to burn, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was ending Lex’s sorry existence once and for all.

“Nia,” Kara cut in, taking a placating step forward, “just think for a second-”

“You can’t stop me, Kara,” Nia snarled. She knew she’d gained something of an audience since Lena and Alex had returned from the recovery room, could feel their eyes tracking her every movement, but just thinking about who they’d been tending to, the state he’d been in when they’d found him in Leviathan’s ship, made the anger inside her chest that much more vitriolic. There was a pressure growing inside her skull, throbbing along to the beat of her heart. She stopped short, jerking her arm in the direction Lena and Alex had come from. “Look what he did to Brainy. Months of hurting him, putting him through god knows what!”

“And you have every reason to be angry,” Kara said gently.

Nia snorted, rolling her eyes. “Great, ‘cuz I was totally asking for your permission.”

“Nia-”

“No.” Nia turned to Kara then, jaw clenched tight. “Y’know what? No. You don’t have a right to tell me I’m wrong here. Lex kills people, Kara, did you think of that, huh? Did you think of who Brainy might have helped Lex kill? What Lex might have made him do?” Nia could feel tears burning in her eyes, could taste a thickness in her throat, but she forced every bit of strength into her voice regardless. “None of us stopped that.”

“None of us knew,” Alex muttered.

“And who’s fault is that?” Nia shot back, whirling on Alex accusingly. “Brainy’s? Or maybe, maybe the truth is, it was ours. I ignored my dreams and we all, we all ignored him!” Nia sucked air through her teeth. She knew she was trembling, but seeing those concerned looks on her friends’ faces did nothing to cool the fire welling inside of her. She swallowed hard, ignoring the iron tang in the back of her mouth, and drew out a slow breath. “But, most importantly,” she said carefully, “it’s Lex’s fault. This is all Lex’s fault.”

“I don’t disagree with you,” Lena said. Her expression had been especially still throughout Nia’s tirade, although something about it now looked distinctly uneasy. “But, Brainy was careful. I saw him-” Lena cringed suddenly, looking away.

Nia knew why, just as well as anyone else in the room did. Lena had known Brainy had been working for Lex – for months - and she hadn’t said a word. She’d kept his secret. No, no, she hadn’t kept his secret, she hadn’t cared about it.

“It was only brief,” Lena said quickly, glancing back to her, “but during that time, he promised me that no one would be harmed whilst he aided with Lex’s schemes. He wouldn’t have broken his code, Nia. Not even for Lex; I’m certain.”

“You killed him.”

“What?”

Nia stared at Lena coldly. “You shot him, right? You shot your brother in the heart and you didn’t think about it. Because it was justice.”

“It wasn’t justice-” Kara tried desperately.

“I’m not talking to you!” Nia gritted. She didn’t even spare Kara a passing glance. All of her attention was devoted to Lena. “Let her talk.”

Lena’s eyes were bright, shimmering things. Still, she didn’t look away this time. Instead, her lips twitched into sharp smile. “What do you want me to say?” she asked coldly. “That killing my brother was cathartic, that it closed old wounds that I thought might never heal?” She raised her chin. “No, you want the whole truth. That my actions stopped a threat that would have continued relentlessly unless someone had the nerve to take that shot. To leave his lifeless body to rot with the worms like he deserved.”

Kara made a pained sound in the back of her throat.

Lena glanced at her. “Don’t get me wrong,” she said plainly. “I don’t condone this. But, not because I don’t agree with her.” Lena turned back to Nia, her brow furrowed. “Nia, taking a person’s life is something you can never take back.”

Nia bared her teeth. “And yet, that’s exactly what the Anti Monitor did.” She gestured at Lena frankly, feeling wayward strands of dream energy snap and spark between her fingers. “Absolve you, or whatever.”

“I’d kill my brother again without a moment’s hesitation,” Lena said stiffly, lifting herself to her full height. “But, we can still stop him without resorting to that.” Her expression softened. “Even if we couldn’t, my actions, they aren’t yours. Nia, you don’t have the stomach for this. You shouldn’t.”

Nia clenched her hands again, feeling her energy pool into every digit. Vibrant blue light simmered against her palms. “No offence, Lena, but you don’t know anything about what I’m capable of right now.”

“Nia?”

Nia faltered, the shock of her power dimming as she half turned to meet the new voice behind her back.

Brainy was stood in the lab’s entryway, his shoulder pressed heavily against the wall. If the frailness of his expression was anything to go by, Nia was certain it was the only thing keeping him from keeling over.

His green skin was still far too pale to be healthy, and his blond hair clung to the side of his jaw with cold sweat, but he was awake. He was…

Why was he awake?

Between the two of them, Lena and Alex had been able to help along Brainy’s natural healing process using a cocktail of experimental drugs, the names of which Nia wasn’t even going to try to pronounce. But Brainy’s IV wasn’t present, instead she could see an angry looking bruise already beginning to blossom over the delicate skin on his left hand.

The dream energy dissolved from Nia’s hands in an instant, rocketing back towards her chest so quickly that she nearly choked. She rushed over to him, reaching tentatively for his arm.

This close, she could see the shadows that had sunk into his cheek bones, the red veins that still branched along the whites of his eyes. He held one arm protectively around his chest, clenched between the steady glow of his three life projectors.

“Brainy,” Nia said breathlessly, running her hand carefully along his arm, desperate to offer any kind of support she could. “You shouldn’t be up.”

Brainy clenched his teeth, lowering his head. “I-I overheard…” he managed.

It took her a second, but although his eyes were heavy lidded, Nia realised that Brainy was looking down at her hands, at the vibrant energy she’d summoned only moments ago. Something heavy settled inside her stomach at that look.

“Nia,” Brainy continued softly. “You- you don’t need to do this.”

A pained laugh caught in Nia’s throat. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

Brainy smiled tiredly, lifting his head with clearly more energy than he had to expend. Nia ached to do something for him, to take that hurt away, but the anger inside of her no longer burned like fire. Instead, it twisted deep in her gut, churning together with every bit of fear she’d been trying to hold down since the moment they’d gotten Brainy out of Leviathan’s clutches.

“Killing Lex…” Brainy said, meeting Nia’s eyes. “It will not take back what I did. I worked for him of my own volition, he didn’t force me into anything.”

Nia swallowed hard, closing her eyes.

“You have every right to be angry with me,” Brainy said earnestly. “But, please, don’t channel that anger into something this destructive. Lena is right. Taking a life is never worth it. There is always a better way.”

Nia’s eyes shot open at that. She blinked quickly, shaking her head. “I’m not,” she said. “I’m not mad at you.”

When Brainy only stared at her, Nia felt the twist in her stomach sour even further. She gritted her teeth, blinking back against the sudden burn in her eyes. “I- I don’t want to be,” she said weakly.

“It’s okay.”

Nia startled at the feel of Brainy’s fingers brush against her free hand. She clenched the one around his arm in response. “It’s not okay,” she gritted. “It wasn’t your fault. I-”

“From what I understand,” Brainy said, “emotions do not always make sense. But that does not make them any less real.”

For a long moment, Nia couldn’t say a word against him. Because, as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She was angry, so angry, but she was also terrified and sick and hollow. There was a bitter hole in her heart, one that had only continued to grow in the months since Brainy had broken up with her. He’d barely spoken to her since, had hardly stood to be in the same room as her at all. The closest they’d gotten was work-related interactions and even then, he’d been so distant, like a part of him hadn’t even been there.

And when she’d seen Brainy in Leviathan’s ship, every single piece of bitterness had surged to life in a united front to keep her grounded, to keep her away from every other emotion threatening to tear her apart. It had warped into a violent rage, an acrid burn inside her lungs, fuelling her on this fruitless pursuit to, what? Kill Lex? As though that’d make her feel better, as though any of this would make her feel better?

Nia couldn’t find it in her to say that all out loud. Instead, she sniffed hard, biting her lip. “You left me alone,” she said lowly. “And that killed me.”

“I know,” Brainy said, his voice pained. “It… it killed me too, and I know this isn’t enough, that it won’t take away the hurt, but I am so, so sorry, Nia Nal.” His eyes fluttered suddenly, and he closed them quickly, lowering his head. “I will always be sorry.”

Nia knew this wasn’t the right time to have this conversation. Brainy’s complexion was already losing the little colour he’d gained; his jaw was tight with discomfort, and as a harsh shudder ran up his spine, she watched as he lost the last of his composure, leaning his head against the wall with a weak grimace.

Nia wasn’t sure what she was feeling in that moment, but when Brainy’s legs nearly gave out, she didn’t hesitate. Her arms were wrapped around his back before she even knew that she was moving forward, burying her face securely into the side of his neck. His skin was sticky with cold sweat, but she didn’t care, she only hugged him fiercer, unable to keep a sob from heaving its way out of her throat.

“It will be enough,” she whispered, feeling as Brainy slowly began to relax into her embrace. “It’ll just take some time.”

There was more she wanted to say now. The words practically thundered inside her ears, clawing to be let out. Words like, how much she loved him, how she’d never stopped loving him, but how even that couldn’t take away the resentment she’d stored against herself, against him, for leaving her without a proper explanation, for making her feel like her feelings were unwarranted, unreciprocated.

But her throat was tight, and the only sounds she was able to make were the harsh gasps as her chest hitched and fell outside of her control. She could hear Brainy’s pulse beating away against her cheek, the moisture of his own tears wetting strands of her hair.

All she wanted to do was hold on and never, ever let go.

Brainy didn’t say a word, either. Although, for him, it was for a far more pressing reason. His breathing was already beginning to strain against her shoulder, and when he suddenly dipped dangerously in her arms, Nia strengthened her hold around him, leaning them both against the wall to support their combined weights.

“So, does this mean no one’s murdering anyone anymore?” Alex asked from across the room.

Nia’s chest clenched. She’d totally forgotten that her reunion with Brainy had been met with an audience. She lifted her head from his shoulder, blinking against the brightness of the room before turning towards her friends.

Alex was already on her way over to them, her eyes reviewing every inch of Brainy in both parts medical and familial concern. Kara and Lena hovered awkwardly together, seemingly aware that crowding Brainy right now might not be the best plan.

Nia met Kara’s gaze warily, offering her an apologetic wince. “I…” she began.

“It’s okay,” Kara said softly, her eyes creasing with a smile.

Nia sighed, shaking her head. “Okay,” she said levelly. “Maybe, maybe we don’t have to kill him. But the next cell we put that asshole in, he’s never getting out of.”

Kara’s smile widened into a grin. “Now, that’s a plan I can get behind.”

“First thing’s first,” Alex cut in, rousing Brainy enough that he was able to glance blearily up from Nia’s shoulder. She pressed the back of her hand against his forehead, narrowing her eyes at the result. “You’re telling me what the hell you did with your IV. Then, you’re going back to bed.”

Brainy nodded weakly, mumbling a quiet apology, although Nia knew Alex wasn’t looking for one. In fact, she was pretty certain she’d heard Alex forgive Brainy at least a dozen times over while he’d still been delirious from the radiation.

Nia chuckled, helping Alex manoeuvre Brainy’s weight back down the hall.

“C’mon Wildcat,” she murmured into his ear. “We’ve got you.”

Maybe they hadn’t had a chance to get everything out in the open just yet, but they would. 

Once Brainy was healthy and rested, they’d have all the time in the world.

[none-but-y0u]

i'm lying (because i love you)

saw this post by @draculcid a few days ago and couldn’t get it out of my mind. then proceeded to write 1k words of a fic but then my motivation to write left because of school and then i suddenly got a burst of inspiration last night and i'm almost probably gonna polish it up for ao3 later but for now, here's a continuation of this beautiful headcanon tw: abuse, bruises, billy went back home to neil's after star court bcuz it works for the purpose of the story. ------------------------------------------------------------------------

So billy drives max over to steve's every few days because steve's place is the unofficial meet up for the party's D&D nights. and max comes in and she's angry and brash and everyone is like ??? and mike yells at lucas to calm his girlfriend down and max yells back that she's not lucas' girlfriend anymore and lucas is like wait whaaaa???

and its one of those nights when steve’s really tired and every loud noise is making him jumpy and anxious and he just can’t deal with them today. So ofc he yells at the boys before turning to max. Goes to yell at her too but she’s hunched over and folded in on herself and this is a different type of angry than usual. It’s laced with fear this time. And she looks up at him when he asks her what’s wrong, but nothing comes out, so el moves to sit next to her. Squeezes her hand before turning to steve with those round eyes of her and says “old billy”

And that news just...hits him for some reason. Settles uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach because it’s been a few months since Starcourt and Billy’s lost all that Californian thrill that he used to parade around town with.

And steve used to see billy often after it first happened because he was max’s designated driver, so his name appeared on the hospital guest sheet almost as often as Max’s, and ten times as more than Neil’s. And it’s not like he and billy really ever spoke. More of a head nod at the beginning and end of each visit while max’s rambles filled the space between them.

But once Billy healed enough to leave, he just went back to Neil’s because apparently the government doesn’t care too much about a traumatized teenager in a small town in the middle of bumfuck indiana leaking military secrets to the press.

And Steve hated the idea of Billy going back to Neil’s because, well, because he had just gotten used to seeing Billy without the bruises, and he realized he kinda liked seeing the blues of billy’s eyes sparkling during his rare moments of happiness. And he definitely wasn’t ready to see the old bruises start to make their appearance again.

And yet. For whatever reason, his worry never seemed to come true. The bruises never returned and everything was normal.

But months passed and steve didn’t have a reason to be around billy anymore which meant he went from “billy hargrove who steve saw almost every day” to “max’s step brother who drives her around” and steve hates to admit it but he misses the old billy. The one who would sometimes stare at steve from his bed when he thought steve wasn't watching. But Steve was always aware of billy. Has been from the moment he first set foot in town.

So when he hears this news, that “old Billy” has returned, he hates it because old billy was angry and scared all the time, and old billy didn’t look at him like he was important. Like he saw something else in him. Like he was worth it.

So steve nods at max. Tells the kids he’ll be back, and musters up what little courage he has left before trudging outside. Thinks about how if Robin were here, she’d tell him to turn around and go back inside. Let Billy be the angsty teen he tries so hard to come across as by himself. But his mind and nerves don’t seem to agree on logic too much these days, so he goes anyways.

And when he finally gets to the camaro, billy straightens up as if he wasn’t just hunched over, head in his hands, and breathing heavily. Looking exactly like his sister, not sister. And billy looks up at steve with a bored expression. Answers really dryly like he’d rather be anywhere than here cuz he’s cool for this.

But steve can see the bruises decorating the side of his face. Can see the unblemished skin on billy’s knuckles, and steve just knows. Old billy.

So steve, shaking and scared himself, finally works up the guts to ask billy to come inside. Says something like the kids just started a new D&D game and it won’t be done for a while, so billy might as well come inside so he doesn't freeze even though billy has always run hot.

And billy stays silent, narrows his eyes at steve, which makes steve’s heart beat in his chest because the knows they’ve moved past that night in november, but this is old billy and old billy is really good with his fists and steve doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of that again.

But eventually, billy agrees. Says something snarky like “i’ve always wanted to see how the other half lives.” Shuts the camaro off and opens the door, hitting steve on the leg because he’s still a boy who doesn’t know how to properly accept love and care with his words.

Inside, the party barely spares them a look, but he knows they’re doing it out of a respect thing because max is still frowning and closed off. And billy sees her, starts off ignoring her as he walks around touching things. But his eyes keep finding her and she keeps shivering because she still has some of that california blood in her. And eventually he walks over. Yells at her for leaving her jacket at home before yelling at steve for having a cold house. And steve says he can put the heat on or get her a blanket, but billy waves him off before shrugging off his prized leather jacket and throwing it at max.

And something warm flutters deep in steve’s stomach as he watches their interaction. Something he hasn’t felt since nancy and it builds and builds inside of him.

And then he sees the bruises on billy’s side. Sees the small splotches of red peeking through billy’s white shirt. Watches billy wince as he continues his exploration of steve’s house.

Eventually, steve tells billy to follow him. Has to say it with faux authority because billy loves to argue. When they finally do get to the bathroom, steve forces billy to sit, so he can clean his wounds because “you’re gonna get blood all over my mom’s new carpet, and she’s gonna kill me” which is a lie ofc because it’s not like she’s ever home, and even when she is, she’s only sober long enough to point out whatever flaw of steve she can pick at.

But they’re focusing on billy tonight, so steve brushes off the slight overshare, and billy seems to understand because he lets steve clean him up. Lets him run a warm rag over billy’s abs. Even let’s steve wash his hair (which is a whole other argument). And after, steve gives billy some of his clothes. They have different body sizes so the only thing that fits are a pair of sweats and one of steve’s old sweaters. But watching billy come out from the bathroom wearing his clothes sparks something in him, and he thinks that old sweater might just be his new favorite now.

After, billy starts looking around steve’s room. Says something like “so this where the magic happens” as he waggles his eyebrows. And steve goes to roll his eyes but there’s something about billy looking soft and cozy as he sinks into the cushion of steve’s bed. And that warm feeling is back, and it’s spreading this time. And he has to look away because he’s starting to think of scenarios of billy sleeping in his bed not just for one night but for forever, and...yeah he can’t think of that right now.

So he uses this moment of billy being slightly distracted to go to the kitchen. Makes up another lie about billy having to stay in his room for whatever reason and billy agrees because “your bed feels so good, harrington.” and steve can’t take it anymore and he runs out blushing.

He comes back a half hour later with slices of pizza but billy protests because he’s on a strict diet of not eating whatever the fuck they put in Sal’s pizza. But steve is prepared this time, so he counters saying they had extra and they have to eat it all or else the racoons will get it and everyone is full, so billy has to eat the rest of it.

And steve has already been really weird tonight. Doesn’t want to make it weirder by watching billy eat. So he grabs the closest thing to him which happens to be some romance book from the 1800s that he took out for a school assignment and never returned.

But he’s made his grave already, so he starts reading it. Or at least tries to, but soon the words start blurring together because he keeps getting distracted, and he resorts back to an old trick of reading everything out loud to help him stay on track. And then he remembers billy’s still in the room, and he’s looking at him with this curious look. And steve feels like he’s in grade school again, about to get scolded for being disruptive, so he stutters out an apology, but billy cuts him off, saying he can’t hear the book when steve’s sitting so far away.

and there’s plenty of room on the bed.

So somehow, steve finds himself, sitting on his bed, one side of his body pressed to billy’s, reading an 18th century romance book. and there’s heat being passed between them, but there’s heat filling inside steve too.

Time passes and they get lost in the story, but then suddenly, there’s a loud bang followed by screaming coming from the living room, and steve immediately jumps up, reaching for his bat, but then he hears dustin yell out a “sorry steve” followed by a chorus of “sorry, steve.”

And it takes a second, but his heart rate is slowing back down, but then he looks over at billy, and his eyes are wide and his fingers are digging into his side and he’s breathing really heavily like he’s on the verge of crying or something and steve gets it...old billy.

So steve waits with billy. Helps him calm down by pressing billy’s hand to his chest, to help ground him. Once he’s a little better, steve says he better tell them to quiet down, and billy protests saying “don’t be such a mom, harrington” but the jumpiness is still slightly there in his eyes so steve shrugs him off saying “they’ve already had the cops called on them once because the kids were being obnoxiously loud” and he doesn’t need it to happen again. He doesn’t tell billy the incident was an argument over a video game or that the cop was hopper who didn’t even drive over because it wasn’t serious and it didn’t involve el.

Later, when it’s getting late, nancy and jonathan show up to take the kids home. As Steve talks to them, he notices max and billy arguing in the corner of the room. Eventually he works it out. Billy can’t go home tonight, but max doesn’t want him sleeping in his car because who knows what’s out there.

So steve offers, well more like agrees, to max’s question of letting billy spend the night. Billy protests and steve shrugs it off, saying he has multiple rooms in his house and he can sleep in any of those.

After everyone leaves, steve goes to set billy up in a guest room, but he notices him being hesitant about sleeping alone. And steve’s been lying all day, so he figures that one more can’t hurt so he says that billy’s gonna have to sleep in his bed tonight because the other rooms are filled with his parent’s souvenirs from their many adventures. And it’s so obviously a lie because they were just in a perfectly clean room, but billy smirks anyways and says something like “if you wanted me in your bed, just say that.”

They get back to steve’s room and curl up under the covers. And it’s so cold in steve’s house, so obviously they have to conserve heat by practically spooning each other. And it’s steve’s bed and he’s the one that’s cold, so he gets to be the big spoon this time. Which grants him a “you planning on there being a next time, harrington?” steve hopes billy can’t feel his heart fluttering.

A few minutes later, they’re laying there, both still awake. Because the worst part about living in the middle of nowhere is the constant sounds of nature. Steve’s used to it for the most part, but billy keeps tensing in his arms. So steve lies one last time and says something like “i hate the sounds of outside so i have to sing myself to sleep. Do you mind?” and billy shrugs, saying no. and steve starts singing something that’s not a bedtime song and his voice is bad, but it makes billy laugh which makes steve’s chest flutter and that warm feeling is back with a vengeance. But this time steve welcomes it.

As the song ends, billy’s breath starts getting slower and quieter, and steve thinks he’s asleep so he whispers a “goodnight hargrove” into billy’s hair.

But his calculations are off, and billy stirs in his arms, and steve freezes, nose still touching billy’s curls. And then billy turns around, still wrapped in his arms and whispers a “thank you, pretty boy” into his chest before snuggling deeper into steve’s arms.