#fucking PUT THEM BACK (three are now missing) and preferably without bits of food stuck on them though at this point i’m not even picky.

[camgoloud]

the unaffordability of one bedroom apartments in my area is something that can be so oppressive to me personally

[thenextchapter22]

Mail Order... Kitten Girl

Part 8: Aw Rats

Description: Satan accidentally orders a special type of ‘cat’ online after having a few too many drinks…

Tags: Pet Play, Cat Hybrids, Fluff, Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Tail Fucking

Pairing(s): Reader/Everyone (but Luke)

Link to my AO3: Click Here

In this chapter: Kitten and Barbatos spend time together!

Part One  Part Two  Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Authors Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BARBATOS!! This one is for you :))

+++++ MINORS DNI +++++

It was an early morning on a weekday. You woke up slowly, snuggling into the demon body beside you in bed. Sleeping in Belphie’s room was always your top favorite spots to get a great nights sleep. Surrounded in his bed with all his blankets and pillows he stacked up plus his warm arms around you, that was the best.

You were shaken out of the slumber by Beel shaking his twin’s arm, saying, “Belphie, Kitten, get up and eat.”

Belphie groaned, squeezing your body to him, nuzzling the back of your neck with his heated breath caressing you. “Mmmm... ‘s early, Beel. Later...”  

The temptation to stay was strong, but your stomach gurgled and you decided to get up.  

Wiggling in Belphie’s strong hold until you faced him instead of the wall, he opened one eye just enough to stare at you questionably. “Cuddle me later?” you said through a yawn.  

Your youngest demon Master sighed, but gave you one final squeeze around your waist, lingering just above your bottom with his fingers, and kissed you gently. “Fine... Go on,” he said, and opened his arms to free you.  

Beel helped you climb over him. As soon as you were out of the bed, Belphie went right back to sleep.  

With a smiling sigh, Beel shook his head. “C’mon, Kitten. I’ve made one of your favorites for breakfast so let’s get you dressed.”  

You picked at the thin silk short set you had worn to bed. Sleeping with any of them, you liked to wear little to almost nothing. Firstly, because a lot of them ran hot, and secondly so that you could feel their bodies closer to you. That extra touch made your body feel good.

You sat on Beel’s bed, waiting for him to pick out an outfit for you. Almost all of your Master’s liked to dress you. And because you usually stayed in one of their rooms, sometimes a different demon each night so it was fair—they liked to fight a lot about that—they had clothes ready for the next day.

The redheaded demon chose a soft pair of leggings and a short-sleeved scoop neck shirt, also soft,  probably fleece . You smiled at the plain underwear he helped you slip on.  Asmo , Lucifer, and Satan all liked to give you lace undies and bras, but the others preferred comfort for you. Either way you  didn’t  mind, they were your owners after all and you liked them dressing you up. The fun of it was seeing the  different styles.  

After you were clothed, Beel took your hand and smiled. “Let’s go eat.”

You smiled right back and nodded, “Mmhm! ‘m hungry, Master.”

“Me too. I haven't eaten in minutes.”

Giggling, the both of you left Belphie to the room and went to eat.

Breakfast for you was perfect. Waffles soaked in syrup, piled high with berries and whipped cream. Sausages and eggs, too.  The table was full, aside from Belphie. Your Masters all ate their weird demon foods. The day was looking to be a great one!

Once your belly was full, that was when your morning turned from sweet to just plain sour.

The worst news was given to you, and in anger you lashed out.

Which was why now, you sat dejectedly on the couch, arms crossed and tail swishing across your lap, the tip fuzzed out. You poked at your collar that was almost forced on you, a black leather collar that wasn’t uncomfortable but not your favorite, thick and ugly. A long leash was attached to it, and on the other end was Lucifer holding it. Usually you liked the leash, but not when it was a punishment.

Everyone was in the common room now, even Belphie who had gotten up after hearing the news. They either stood around you or sat on the furniture, but they all were looking at you with small smiles or smirks.

You were  not  amused. If you were an actual cat, your fur would be stuck up like the tip of your tail was.

The bad news that caused this problem... your Masters were leaving for the whole day to a RAD Student Council member only meeting that Lord Diavolo was holding.  

You hated being alone. But because Barbatos was staying behind to make a feast for when they came back, he had volunteered to watch you.  

When Lucifer went on and explained he was going to take you to Lord Diavolo’s castle for the hand  off of  yourself to the demon butler, you obviously did not want to go or for them to go and as such you had clawed at him, and thus the leash.  

You didn’t draw blood, Lucifer was too fast for that, but the reaction was enough to be punished.

Huffing in your seat, you refused to not look angry. They were leaving you... again!

Lucifer sighed, and patted the top of your head a few times. “Bad kitty’s get punished, my dear,” he said matter of fact.

Your nose twitched. “I know...”

“You promise to behave for Barbatos?” Satan asked.

You nodded. “Yes, Master...”

“Don’t look so upset, it will only be for a few hours...”

“Why can’t I just be at home alone?” you asked, glancing at them all with wide eyes.

Asmo cooed. “Last time Simeon took too long, kitty cat, and you were upset with us. We’re just looking after you.”

You pouted.

Beel smiled. “Barbatos is excited to see you. And he said he wants you to taste test some of his bakes today. I’m jealous.” He drooled.

Your ears perked up. “R-really?” You licked your lips. Barbatos was the best baker you knew. His cakes and pies and basically everything he made was yummy.

“Kitten looks happy now!” Mammon said with a grin.

Satan agreed, “She looks like the cat who got the cream.”

Asmo giggled. “She probably will, too, and I mean to say Barbatos’~”

The others groaned or chuckled. You didn’t know what that meant, but you did love cream.

“We’re having a big feast later at Lord Diavolo’s castle, so be sure not to eat too much,” Lucifer said, and then announced it was time to go.

You stood as Lucifer started for the front door, the leash taught. Your Masters all said their respective goodbyes and ‘I love you’s’ and it made you very happy inside. You would miss them so much.  

Maybe it was better to not be alone, so you wouldn’t be so sad and think about them until they came home.

Turning on your heel before the front door, you smiled. “I love you, too, my Masters.” And you meant that, truly.

They all cooed, or grinned, and you waved goodbye.  

It was only for the day, right?

_+_

The walk to Lord Diavolo’s wasn't too long. Barbatos let you inside the main entrance where you waited to be handed off like a true pet.

“Welcome, Lucifer, Kitten. We are going to have a good time together today, hm?” the demon butler smiled at you kindly.

You peeked at him from behind Lucifer and nodded once. Still, something inside of you was a little peeved.

“I trust you will be good?” Lucifer asked you, a stern look in his red eyes.

“Yes, Master, I'll be good,” you said.

Lucifer handed the leash to Barbatos, who took it without a single question. You wondered if Lucifer told him what happened and why you had the leash at all.

“She will be well looked after, Lucifer.”

Lucifer nodded. He gave you a single kiss on your forehead. “Behave, Kitten,” he said, and then he was gone out the door. You watched as he transformed into his demon form and flew off, majestic and sexy. You did love his wings; they were so soft.

“Kitten? Let’s go.” Barbatos smiled at you again, and gestured with his hand for you to go ahead and step further in the Castle.

You frowned, but did, and you found yourself in the kitchen after a little bit of walking.  

The room was a far cry from the House of Lamentation’s kitchen. First it was much larger, higher ceilings, and had several ovens and even more cooking equipment. There were tons of cabinets and a large black table off to the side. The floors were nicer on your shoes, less chance of tripping on wood floors than badly lain cement blocks.

While you glanced around, you felt a tug on your leash and a click, and Barbatos was hanging your leash on a hook on the wall before you knew what happened.

“Wha-?”

“It will be easier for the both of us. I won’t say anything if you won’t?”

You giggled. The collar was still on, but that was fine by you. “Okay!”

“Perfect. Over this way please.” He led you to a counter, and there was a ton of ingredients out. They smelled sweet, salty, bitter. Some of them looked good, others odd colored or shaped, but still had a good aroma. “Today you can help me prepare the meal for their return.”

Your ears fell. “I can’t cook...”

"That's not a problem. You have two hands, and so you can mix. And taste test for me as well.”

Now  that  you could do with great pleasure. “Yes, I want to help!”

He chuckled. “I assumed so. We are only preparing desserts now; I will finish the rest of the meal later so it's fresh. Let’s begin, shall we?”

Baking with Barbatos was fun. You got to eat so many tasty things. He let you lick the spoon with the frosting, and gave you little chocolate chips. Mixing dry ingredients for him was harder than it looked and you got some flour on yourself, but that was why you had the apron on.  

Although, it was strange that he already had the perfect one for you. It certainly was not for one of the demon brothers or Diavolo (right?).

After cooking for a long time, eating and mixing and opening and closing the ovens, setting all the pretty treats under domes on counters or in the fridge, you were totally exhausted. All the hard work and eating had really wore you out.  

You yawned a few times, and rubbed at your eyes.

“Is it time for a cat nap?” he teased.

“Barb, I’m tired.” You yawned again.

He softly laughed. “All right. Come with me, Kitten.” He put the palm of his hand on your lower back to lead you out of the kitchen. You were taken around a few doors and small hallways to a wide window with a bed seat cushion, and it faced a garden full of flowers and wildlife.

“So pretty...” you were in awe.

“I thought you might like the view. Rest for a while and I will wake you up once you’ve gotten the proper sleep.”

You curled up on the warm bedding and purred. The sun was shining in the spot, and you could fit yourself perfectly in a ball. “Thank you~”

Barbatos smiled down at you, and pet your head, his hand lingering on your neck to squeeze once. It gave you the shivers. “You’re very welcome, Kitten. Sweet dreams.”

You fell asleep watching the birds flutter around and chirp.  

When you woke up it was still sunny, but not directly on you. And you watched the garden for a while, and then you saw it.

A rat, scurrying across the field.

You made a sound and bared your teeth at it.

The window had a latch, and you undid it and crawled out to step into the garden. You were quiet, stealthy, your prey was right there. You caught it in your claws and squeezed until it was dead.

This was the perfect present to say thank you!

Barbatos had not come for you yet, so you set the dead rat on the floor of the room, waiting for Barbatos to come fetch you.  

And when he came inside, he froze up, and stared at your gift. “Kitten.”

“Barb~ I got you a gift, it’s right there.” Your tail flickered in happiness, and you grinned a fanged smile at him, proud and excited.

He tensed as he walked around it, but did not pick it up. “Did you touch that thing?” he asked instead.

“Yes, with my claws. I killed it for you!”

“I see...” He held out his arms, and frowned. “Let’s go wash your hands,” he said.

You pouted. “Are you not going to take my present?”

Barbatos’ brows furrowed. “Kitten, I appreciate the gift, however...”

Now you understood, and your eyes watered. “Y-you hate it, don’t you?”

“Not at all, kitty, not at all. I just want to take care of you first.” He grabbed you under your arms and you were taken back to the kitchen, legs wrapped around his waist. You felt like a toddler but the warmth of his body was nice. “You need to clean up before you touch anything else.”

He directed you to stand before the sink and place your hands inside. The water was hot on your hands and you cried out. He apologized, and quickly turned it down, and then poured soap on your hands, helping wash them, getting between your fingers and under your claws.

“Rats carry diseases, and Devildom rats even more. I want you to be more careful.”

You nodded. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

Barbatos gave you a soft smile. “It’s fine. There now, let’s dry them and then we can get back to baking together.”

You dried your hands and frowned down at the tiles. “I just wanted to thank you...”

He cupped your cheek and had you look at him. “I know, but you don’t need to thank me with that,” he said, not unkindly.

Oh, so that’s what he was getting at. Well, your Master’s did not say you couldn’t please Barbatos, and he did take care of you. This was the only other way you knew how to say you were grateful for him feeding you delicious snacks and letting you sleep in the cozy sun spot.

“I can thank you like this,” you said, and knelt down on the floor right in front of him, your face at his crotch.

There was one quick inhaled from the demon butler. His gloved finger lifted your head up for him to stare down at you with his pretty green eyes. There was a slight hue on his cheeks. “You don’t have to thank me at all.”

You licked your lips. “I want to. Please? Can I see your cock and suck it?”

He began thumbing your bottom lip. “If that’s what you want, I wouldn’t say no.” Then he made a concerned face. “Do you want something for your knees?”

You nodded, glad Barbatos was such a kind demon. “Please...” and he somehow had a throw pillow in his hands, and you lifted one knee at a time to get situated. “Thank you.”

“It’s no trouble.”

Quickly you helped him out of his pants, slipping them to the floor. As you did his hand caressed the top of your head, and you felt his dark gaze on you, watching every move you made. As his pants dropped to the floor, he stepped out of them, kicking them away. The mess was so unlike the butler from what you had seen.

Now he was just in his underwear, a silk dark green pair that outlined his cock and balls. You nuzzled his clothed dick. “Smells good, Barby.”  

“Mmm, you like the smell of cock, Kitten?”

You nodded. “Yesss-”  

His hand went to your hair at the back of your head to lightly tug. The pain mixed with his scent urged you on, and you had his boxers pulled down, and he was quicker in stepping out of those. His cock out inches from your mouth, half hard. Before you sucked it, you grabbed it to stroke it to life. You licked the tip once, he gasped. Then you swallowed him down and peeked up at him with a certain look, unmoving. Waiting for him to do something.

He got the idea and smiled. “Do you want me to use your mouth?”  

You hummed, hopeful he understood it meant yes. And he understood because he began using your mouth. Filling it with his slicked head, hitting your tongue and roof of your mouth. Your lips were swelling up, and you suckled and slurped at his cock.

Clawed hands went to his waist, holding him steady as his fingers clutched your hair to do the same. The pain and scent surrounding you had your pussy wetting up, soaking your undies. But this was for him, about Barbatos’ pleasure. And a Kitten could please their Master, or their Master’s friends, and you would do a good job of it, too.

Breathing through your nose, you kept a firm hold on his hips, and your tail helped by wrapping around his thigh once to squeeze. His legs were bare, strong looking. You looked up at him, and met his dark eyes, flecks of black creeping in to those slate green iris’. It was sexy and you moaned.

“Ahh, Kitten,” he moaned. His hand not at your hair went to touch your tail, wrapped around a part of it and stroked like you had done to his dick. “Such a soft tail."

You moaned louder, vibrating around his cock, tonguing the underside with your flattened muscle, flexing. He tasted tangy and filled your mouth perfectly, and a little precum trickled onto your taste buds.

The demon butler tensed and grunted out a warning before he came in your mouth, and only then did you let him go. You held his spent cum in your mouth on your tongue, and showed it to him before swallowing. It was bitter, but you had worse.

“Such a naughty thing,” he commented, and pet your hair from your cheeks.  

He smiled, and in his eyes was something new you hadn’t seen. He put his clothes back to right, and before you could react, he had you in his arms and then deposited you on the long kitchen table. The throw pillow was shoved under your body to lift you up at your lower half, and it helped keep your tail from being squished. But you were confused.

“Barb-”

“Hush now.” He stood at your feet, a demonic grin truly. “I shall return the favor,” he whispered. Barbatos’ appearance shifted, and he was in his demon form, his twin-tipped tails flickering behind him, his bat-like horns gleaming in the kitchen light.

His hands torn down your pants to your ankles, and you let him, him taking off your shoes next to leave you in socks and your top. Then you were spread open, panties glistening, socked feet flat on the table. He had you bend your legs so he could grasp your knees to keep you like that, but your pants hugged at your ankles like restraints.

Those eyes of his were basically neon green they were glowing, and he stared at your clothed core, and you tightened in response. Could he see the flex of your pussy?  

“You got wet from sucking me, hm... How delightful.” His finger went to your waist, tugging under the band, and it snapped apart. He tore your underwear from you and exposed your vagina to the air, the coolness hitting your burning heat, wetness growing.

“Ahh, B-barb-"

His tails were hovering your vagina, twitching, and you leaned your head down to watch. You couldn’t see much past your belly as he lifted you up, but you knew what his intentions were.

You begged for it, “please, inside...”

He did not hesitate. His tail slowly went inside your pussy, thick, slimy, softly scaled. It was bigger than you figured, and you tightened down and wiggled your hips.

He tore his glove off with his teeth, and his bare finger circled your clit, the sparks of pleasure helping the stretch. “It’s okay, you can take it. Be a good kitty.”

You clenched down on him again and he winced for a second, but then his tail slithered deeper and flicked at the tip to hit that spot inside and you saw stars, clutching the table at each end with clawed hands.

“You’re damaging the wood,” he said with a bit of humor, but did nothing to stop you. His finger circled your clit faster and harder, and you were close but still felt like it wasn’t enough.

That was when his second tail spread your cheeks apart to press to your anus, slimy from the wetness leaking from your pussy. You were not ready for that, not now.

You cried, “nnngg, not there, please.” Your own tail swooshed in the air, a nervous twitch, and a warning that you did not like that.

Barbatos kissed your inner thigh, holding your knee wider with one hand as his tail fucked you, sloppy sounds echoing in the room along with your heavy panting. “I know, beautiful thing, I won’t.” He left the tail tip there, slipping over your hole to join the other at your pussy, pressing against its twin. “You can take two, can you not?”

You tensed and sobbed. “P-please,” you desperately wanted to be torn open.

He grinned, sharp teeth, and shoved his second tail in along with the other. You arched your back and tossed your head to the side and sobbed, burning and intense pleasure/pain encompassing you. “Ahhhgg~”

The pace he set was fast and rough, the double tails slipping in and out and scrapping at the best parts of you, no time to adjust. “You’re so sweet, yet so naughty. I want to feel your pussy on my cock someday.”

“Uhh, yes, yes, want that-”

“Hm, I know you do.”

He was so himself like this. Barbatos was commanding and sure in his movements, and it was perfection. His head went between your legs and his mouth found your clit and licked and kissed wet and sloppily. You wished you could watch as he did, but your position only let you see his head bobbing, and his tail motioning in and out between your thighs.

He kept his mouth on your clit, swishing his tongue back and forth. “Purr for me, kitty,” he pulled back to say, and then with insane speed he fucked you with his serpent tails and licked you, like a vibrator toy for your clit.

The heat was reaching your belly in a boiling point now. Your body was hot, tense, and your toes curled, and then with an arched back, your belly tightened up and you were finished. “Cumming, Barb, cummiinnnnggg~” you exclaimed, spurting all over.  

It lasted a few moments, but felt like longer. You kept your eyes shut and felt the excess amount of your own juices dripping out. The sparks went with the beat of your heart as you calmed down, almost like an exposed wire feeling every single thing. Your shirt was sweaty. Your throat sore, from both screaming your pleasure and holding some back. There was a little bit of tears drying on your cheeks.

When you did open your eyes, Barbatos was hovering over your head, smiling that gentle smile, this time it reached his kind eyes. “So pretty for me,” Barbatos murmured, kissing your cheek. “I need to clean you up now.”

You hummed, shutting your eyes as fireworks popped up in your vision. “Mmm, clean up,” you copied.

He chuckled, and lifted you up in his arms, and you whined but allowed it. “Come on kitty, you can have another nap after.”

You sighed. “Love naps.”

“I gathered that. You may be a second Belphegor and we just don’t know it.”

You giggled. “Mmmm.” What a silly thing to say.

_+_

“She looks exhausted,” Lucifer commented. He had a slight smirk in his eyes and on his lips, but not enough for the average person to see.

Barbatos shared a similar look. “Oh yes, we had an eventful evening, didn’t we?” You flushed red, ignoring the question, and he went on, holding out a few containers. “Here. To take home with you. The feast will begin in a few hours, but I know Beel will like to have some extras.” Barbatos handed you the boxes. “Thank you for all your help today, Kitten. Anytime you want to stop by, feel free.” The green of his eyes shone, mischievous.

You held in the whine, because you  did  want to visit again. But the teasing was too much and you were exhausted mentally and physically. You didn’t even want to be standing right then.

You looked at Lucifer and asked, “Master, can we go home now?”

“Yes, we can.” He took the leash from Barbatos and you both left Lord Diavolo’s castle for the House of Lamentation.

And if Lucifer noticed the limp in your walk, he said nothing on it.  

Thankfully you were not in trouble. Your Masters, it seemed, did not care if you shared yourself. But you had to wonder the limitations of that... you’d ask another time.

So, you went home to rest before the feast, but in the end you did not go. You actually stayed behind with Levi who had plans to be online that night (Diavolo played video games, you heard, so he excused the Envy demon).

Snuggled up with him on the beanbag you lazily watched him play, occasionally getting soft pets between battles. It was boring to just watch, but you had enough excitement. This was a perfect way to end a sweet day.

[bonny-kookoo]

Chivalry is dead (JJK x Reader) 💜(☁️)🔞

🖤 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

🖤 Genre: CEO x Secretary AU, Fluff/Romance, Coworkers to lovers?, mild angst, Smut

🖤 Warnings: swearing, mentions of surgery, did I mention swearing, Kookster is whipped, it’s kinda cheesy, please someone get me a Jungkook like that, slow sex, gentle lovemaking, it’s nothing freaky this time, oral (f rec.) protected sex, sugary sweet live confession you might get diabetes

🖤 Summary: Jeon Jungkook was your boss. The roles were clear as day, so why did it seem so complicated?

You had no idea who in the hell actually invented coffee- like who thought roasting some weird beans and spilling hot water over that stuff was a good idea? Well, whoever it was, that person could go fuck themselves royally; because first of all, that stuff tasted bitter as hell, and second of all, it made your early morning shift an absolute nightmare.

Maybe it wasn't the coffee, but the person who loved them- Jeon Jungkook. Self-proclaimed savior of his Dad's company after taking over at the mere age of 22. Now, at 25, he was a well known face in his business, with famous magazines naming him 'one to watch out for' when talking about deals and sudden decisions. He's headstrong, smart, and unbelievably good looking too.

And also an asshole.

Thats at least what your flatmate Jenny usually says whenever he's the main course of your conversations. You'd told her time and time again that he was merely this rough with you because he was stressed- yet she simply stated that you were just an angel too good for this world- and especially too good for him.

"2 Minutes late." Came his rough voice as he didn't even look up to greet you, simply tapping on the surface of his crisp white table where he expected you to put his coffee. (Black and bitter as his soul, as Jenny always said.) He nodded, hand raising to dismiss you as always, until his eyes turned downwards, spotting your scaped up knee; half-hazardly covered by a bandaid that already came off at one side due to the rush you'd been in. Sure, you could apologize now, tell him how you were late because that freaking dogwalker let a leash of one of his huskies slip, which basically ran you over like a truck considering your rather short height, but you'd found out early on that Jeon Jungkook didn't care about your stories. Yet with his still lingering stare, you felt like he'd glued you to the ground by the soles of your shoes, without his dismissal you were forced to stay right where you were. He took a sip of his black beverage before setting the cup down with a sigh, getting up to walk towards a small bathroom connected to his office. Emerging out of the room again with a couple of items in his hand, he sat down on his chair behind his laptop, turning it towards you.

He had to lean down a bit as he took off the bandaid, not even saying sorry as you hissed at the sting. You did notice however how he took it off more gently after that, as he threw it into his bin, opening the plastic bag of desinfectant wipes, before his large hand held the back of your knee, almost delicately. He began to clean the scrape, brows furrowing a bit at the view of the raw skin, thinking about how you probably ran with that all the way to his office just to not be even later. He wanted to apologize, at least give you some form of verbal reassurance that it was okay to put your own health before his goddamn coffee, but the words got stuck inside his throat as he gently placed a new, more properly sized bandaid over the wound, sighing as some red seeped through immediately. "Get that checked after work today." He simply said before getting up to put all of the items away into their proper place as you were left with still tingling skin from his touch. He turned around, looking at you with an almost bored, but soft look. "What're you standing there for? You're dismissed." He said, and you practically ran out of the office.

"He wants to fuck you." Jenny simply said as she bit into her sandwich, while you were left almost spitting out your lunch. "What? That was electricity, I'm telling you! He so wants to screw you." She said, almost accusingly pointing a finger at you as she took a sip of her water, watching you.

"Stop. He only did that because he.." Oh well yeah, why did he do that? He could've simply told you to get it checked instead of taking care of it himself for that matter. But he was someone who wanted things done immediately- e rarely could wait for things to finish or to be done, so maybe he just wanted to have things more proper during your shift? Exactly. He just wanted to keep the image of his company intact- maybe even raise it by showing other employees that he cared for everyone deeply, even if he didn't. "He probably just wanted me not to look like I got scraped off the streets." You mumbled before taking a bite of your lunch, Jennies eyes rolling.

"Truth is;" She started, as she threw away her plastic waste before checking her watch, "That I still think he wants you bend over his desk." She finished, as you turned shades of pink, lowering your gaze at that. You always tried to keep those thoughts away from you, knowing how unprofessional it was. "Does he know you're leaving soon?" She asked, now a bit softer since she knew it was a touchy topic. You shook your head.

"I haven't put in my termination yet." You answered, your food suddenly looking stale. Jenny sighed, hugging your side.

"I'll buy some icecream on the way home, you're finishing later than I do I assume?" She asked, and you nodded again as a confirmation. "Alright. Let's binge on movies tonight, and have a nice weekend alright? Heads up." Came her reply as she left with a wave, to get back to her own desk in the company.

Jenny and you had met while you were waiting for your interview with Jeon to begin, and when you began to talk, you immediately hit off. You'd told her how much the driving back and forth from your old apartment to work would be, and eventually she'd decided to share her apartment with you close to the company. You were a bit hesitant at first, but eventually agreed; and it was one of your best decisions yet. The way to work was basically half an hour by foot- if it wasn't for your daily task of bringing your boss a coffee from this one specific shop downtown, almost an hour away by foot. It was okay however. Everyone had their preference.

At least you told yourself that to feel better about being Jeon Jungkooks personal slave.

"You're in love with her." Jimin stated, as Jungkook almost choked on his instant ramen.

"What the fuck dude, I don't." He exclaimed in a scandalized manner, long dark hair successfully hiding the red tips of his ears. He simply furrowed his brows, chopsticks now digging in his cup as if to search for treasure, just so he didn't have to look up and meet the eyes of his very nosy friends who were sitting in his living room.

"So you only want to fuck her." Yoongi grumbled as he hit after Jimin, who'd tried to steal a peace of meat from his plate.

"Exactly- Wait no!" The young company leader corrected himself immediately. No, this wasn't just pleasure he was seeking with you- but he also denied every single clue that he was into you, romantically. After all, he'd had his fair share of romantic involvements in the past; all pathetically killing themselves royally simply because there was never true love involved. It was either for benefit, for public image, or most of the time- for his money. It was never truly just about him.

Jungkook was simply a number, nothing more. In a way, his success was mostly just a curse for his soul; he was convinced by now that everyone just wanted something from him at this point, as pathetic as it sounded. He was always just the punchline of a joke, elderly woman seeing him as a piece of meat on a richly designed table ready to be consumed- just to be spit out as soon as he'd loose flavor. It was sad really, how much he hated trusting at this point.

"Look." Namjoon started, putting down his empty cup as he sniffled from the spicy meal he'd just consumed. "As far as I know, she'd from a regular background, right?" He asked, and Jungkook nodded, slurping some noodles without paying much attention. "How long has she been working for you at this point, two years? Three years?" The younger in question nodded at three, remembering the moment you'd stepped into his office for your interview, back then with a different haircut and color, and a bit more shy than you were now. You'd found friends in coworkers, when it came to gatherings and dinners you were always missing, however. He'd never seen you at any afterparty or bithday gathering for that matter as well. "She also didn't eye you up at all during these years, right?" He asked, and Jungkook got a bit more serious as that, because his friend was right. You surely looked interested in him, but you kept it charmingly subtle- it was more like a shy glance every now and then, never to linger uncomfortably. Just like a mouse showing itself to the cat every now and then to keep the chase going without any intention to.

"Oh, did you ever pay her for buying you a new suit by the way? The one she spilled her strawberry milk on?" Jimin asked with a laugh as Jungkook shook his head.

"She didn't want it." He said, and suddenly everyone got quiet.

"She what?" Yoongi asked. "Is she stupid?" He got out before Jungkook threw him a serious glance.

"Shut up." He said through gritted teeth, as Jimin laughed and the oldest in the round threw his hands up in mocking defense. "No but.. I offered several times, but she said it was her fault. She even got mad at me when I simply put the money on her paycheck- she practically demanded me to take it back." He explained, and Namjoon nodded.

"Probably because she'd feel bad." He answered. He knew you longest and most personally out of everyone in the current gathering; he'd been in the same class back in school for a few years. And you'd always been like that- you hated being paid back favours, because you didn't want to seem like you did them just to gain something afterwards. You kept people at a safe distance, never to have them cross that line, so you could always push them away without getting seriously hurt in the process. You'd also never been in a romantic relationship for long as far as he knew- only having had one scandal back in school, where the guy you'd lost your virginity to had publicly shamed you for being 'bad in bed'. It was a mess really, and Namjoon had felt bad back then, but there was no way you'd let anyone close to you afterwards. "Look." Namjoon started, looking at the youngest. "I'd say go for it. From what I know, she's a genuine person. I'm more concerned about her in this situation than you, if I'm being honest." He said, and Jungkook looked at him scandalized.

Yoongi chimed in. "You're known to fuck around. Don't just use her as a place to throw your half-assed cumshots into, that's what he wants to say." He replied, making Jimin scrunch up his nose in distaste.

Jungkook only continued to eat in silence. You maybe had the role of the mouse in this chase- but he was a tiger waiting to be taimed.

"What is this?" He asked, very unamused, and very much not pleased. It was understandable to a level- after three and a half years you'd just handed in your termination. What you did not understand however, was the amount of emotion you could spot swimming behind his eyes- he looked a bit like when he'd accidentally spilled tea over his workspace once, scared to death if that accident would mean the death of all his hard work of the day. You'd reassured him back then that everything had been saved on the main servers, so even if his laptop was to die, which it did not, everything would still be save. He could surely find a new secretary however- there was no use to make such a huge fuss over it.

"It's my termination sir. I'll be leaving at the end of this month." You answered, a bit unsure now on your spot in front of his desk, as he pushed the tip of his tongue against the inside of his cheek, a clear sign of irritation on his side.

"Thats in two weeks, Y/N." He stated, and you nodded. "As a reason you stated 'health issues'. Is there something I should be worried about?" He asked, and you swallowed, hard.

"Is it uhm.. do I need to answer-" You began, but he cut you off with a stern voice.

"You don't have to, but I'd have to decline the termination if I don't see the reasoning as fit to be taken seriously under such short notice." He began, putting down the papers as he suddenly looked at you more intensely. "We have clear rules here Y/N, I thought you knew them by now. Vacation requests three weeks prior, and terminations as well, except for important reasons." He said, and you looked down.

"I'll be having an operation that can't be pushed anymore soon sir, and I fear I won't be able to meet your standards afterwards. Which is why I'm terminating my contract." You stated, and you swore you could see a flash of concern in his gaze as he nodded.

"Is there anything I can help you with, in preparation for that?" He asked, now shifting his interest on his laptop screen again, typing something as you got confused.

"Pardon sir?" You asked, and he clicked a few times on his touchbad, seemingly searching for something before he turned his attention back onto you.

"Your severance pay will be quite high due to the quality and timespan you've worked here. I want to make sure however, that you're taken care of personally as well, if you'd let me." He said, in such a manner that you felt like he was actually growing a bit self-conscious.

"I uhm.. I will stay at the hospital for a while to recover, and afterwards I guess I'll be fine on my own. It's really fine sir, I don't uhm.. you don't need to do anything really." You said, before sending a smile his way, trying hard not to think of this chapter as finished. Your eyes already stung at the realization that you'd be leaving this comfortable environment soon. It may seemed childish for someone else, but you considered this place a second home- everything was familiar, every routine saved into the memory of your bones, it was your comfort to work here. "I uhm.. I really enjoyed working here." You finished, as Jungkook took a closer look at you.

He seemed to think about something, before he carefully stood up, slowly walking over towards you. For the first time he didn't look detached or as if he needed to do something; his gaze was soft and gentle, and it made it so much harder not to be a crybaby in this situation. You'd always thought that he merely saw you as a secretary, but this situation, as normal as it seemed, felt so intimate. "I'm glad." He simply said, slightly opening his arms to give you the option to take or not to take his invitation for a hug.

You would've been a fool not to. After all, Jungkook wasn't a physically affectionate person- he hated the act of merely shaking hands with a passion, he'd once told you.

"Will you tell me what exactly it is?" He asked, voice so much richer and deeper now that the side of your face was leaning against his chest, head growing dizzy from his presence. You could smell his faint cologne and a fabric softener similar to the one you used- again showing you that he preferred to wash his clothes himself rather than letting others do it for him. "You don't have to, but you have me worried." He simply said, now detaching himself from you hesitantly as he saw some coworkers outside the office staring. He didn't want to make you the talk of town now, only weeks before leaving. Rumors could be aggressive, after all.

"I uhm.." You started, sniffling a bit as you sat down in front of his workdesk. "I'll have a surgery on my knee, since I take a lot of medication for the pain now, and I kinda don't want that anymore so.." You explained to him, as his brows furrowed.

"Why didn't you say anything? I wouldn't have let you work so hard if I'd known you were in pain." He said, almost with a whine, which made you smile a bit in return. You waved him off, however.

"No no, it's fine really. I keep stuff like that to myself anyways." You admitted, and he thought for a moment, before he decided, no.

He wouldn't keep you working just so he could benefit from seeing you. That would be selfish- and he didn't want to be like that. Not with you, at least. He screwed up his chance, and that was okay; he'd had all the time to ask you out, to get closer with you, after all. Maybe it was simply karma. "Take those two weeks off. Don't worry, it won't affect your payment in any form- you'll need to take your vacation time anyways, or I'll get a slap on my hands for not letting you have freetime." He simply said, as you nodded. "Dismissed." He said, in his usual tone.

This time, it made you smile, as you nodded, stood up and walked towards the door. "Y/N." He said from his desk, not looking up. "I really enjoyed having you here." He mumbled, and you grinned, nodding, before leaving the office- and the building alltogether.

"Still can't believe you haven't hired anyone else yet." Jimin accused,as he drank his soju across from Jungkook, who'd simply shrugged. It's been two months by now, and he still refused to let any secretary work as closely with him as you did before. He rather got up a bit earlier and got his morning coffee himself instead of telling anyone to do so; it was as if that was reserved to you. It wasn't the act of having you bring him his coffee like a personal assistand; it was more the fact that he got to see you first thing in the morning. In a weird way, he didn't want to see anyone so early apart form you- he was simply too grumpy for that. "What about Hannah?" He asked, and Jungkook shook his head. Hannah was a promising candidate for the role of a future girlfriend- he really liked her. But there was no romantic spark between the two, and when she'd looked at him almost as if he'd ate her dog when he'd told the waiter to split the bill of their shared dinner, he knew that it wouldn't work out. She'd been so sure that he would simply pay for everything that he had to pay the entire thing- because she didn't even carry her purse with her. "Another piranha, I see."

Namjoon came into the room, several take out boxes in hand. "What're you talking about?" He asked, and Jimin chuckled.

"Jungkookies nonexistent sex-life." He said, before getting hit with a spoon from the younger one.

"Oh, interesting actually-" He began, putting down the food before sitting down himself. "Just saw Y/N-" He started, but Jungkook, almost chomically, cut him off.

"Did she look okay? Was she alright?" He asked, and Namjoon laughed for a second before taking some chopsticks for himself, breaking them apart and making Jimin laugh when they broke the wrong way.

"She seemed okay. Walked without help, but seemed a bit wobbly still." He explained, and Jungkook nodded. "My dad said she's gonna be alright, but it's gonna take a while since she waited so long to get it done-" Suddenly, Jungkook coughed.

"Your DAD did the surgery on her?!" He yelled out, making his dog bark as if alerted, as Namjoon became wide-eyed.

"Yeah, I mean, didn't I tell you.?" He began, but Jungkook shook his head, still heavily irritated.

"No, you did not!" He began, before letting himself fall into the couch defeatedly, whining. "I could've sent her flowers or some other shit, now I fucked it up!" He exclaimed to no one in particular, his dog jumping onto his lap.

"And they say chivalry is dead." Jimin said, playfully wiggling his eyebrows as Namjoon shot him a look to shut him up.

"You can still do that though?" He asked, and Jungkook furrowed his brows.

"No, that's just.. weird. Like, imagine getting flowers from your boss MONTHS after you quit." He said, before huffing like a child. "I screwed it up, its fine." He mumbled, before Namjoon continued.

"I mean, she asked about you though.." He hummed, taking a bite of his food.

"She did what?!" Both Jimin and Jungkook asked in disbelief.

"She asked about you. How you were doing, you know, that stuff." He explained, before continuing. "Told her you fuck around, she left after that." He said, shrugging his shoulders as Jungkook yelled furiously.

"You did what?! Namjoon, what the fuck-" He started, almost tearing up before the elder one laughed. "Not funny." Jungkook commented, clearly unamused by the humor in Namjoons face.

"Sorry." He said, putting down his chopsticks. "No, but for real, she actually told me to tell you she didn't change her number or anything so.."

Jungkook looked at him quesitoningly. "So?" He asked, and Jimin groaned.

"What the fuck, is she supposed to lay on your doorstep with her legs spread out while telling you 'Oh hey come inside and make yourself at home' for you to get the message?" A grumpy Yoongi groaned out as he walked into the living room, greeting the dog. "She basically told Namjoon to tell you she wants to sit on your dick." He said, stealing a dumpling from Jimin as he took off his jacket.

"She did not-" Namjoon started, before turning to the youngest again. "But she basically did say you should message her."

"To make up a date to fuck each other!" Yoongi yelled from the kitchen. Jungkook groaned.

"I mean I do have her number.." He mumbled, and suddenly a hand was on his shoulder as the eldest came back, a glass of water in his hands.

"Then go get pussy." He said, and everyone laughed.

Everyone but the young man in question.

"You uh.. sorry its nothing special but you said you wanted something not fancy so.." He said, as he pulled out the chair as you sat down.

"No no, its fine. I like this." You answered, now a bit shy with him sitting in front of you- all casual and not at all in the regular environment you both met in. He wore a simple black button up, ripped jeans- clothes that were so.. regular, yet he made them look so expensive. Maybe it was how his body was proportioned, with long legs and a broad chest, or maybe it was simply the way he carried himself.

"You look really nice." He casually complimented, as you blushed a bit, unfamiliar with such compliments as he smiled at your reaction, licking his lips almost impishly.

He would've been a bit more shy if it wasn't for the several conversations over the phone you both have had in the past couple of days; your answers and innuendos making it clear that you were genuinely interested in him, on a higher level than just 'hit and run'. No, you'd asked about his dog when he'd sent you a picture of him, you'd wanted to know about his family, or what he did in his freetime- you both even played several rounds of overwatch together when you'd revealed to him that you play the game as well.

It made him feel confident.

Another reason he was so adamant on making sure his impression on you was the best was that you'd openly talked about your, admittedly shitty ex partners, giving him even more reason to treat you the best he could think of.

You felt a bit weird.

Not a bad weird, but a.. tingling weird. This kind of weird where you don't know where to put your hands because wherever you began to rest them your mind thought about if it looked weird. It made you feel like a kid waiting to finally be let loose on a playground. You felt so comfortable with him, that it was important for you to make a good impression on him. So when the waitress came back after you both ate a bite, you began to search for your wallet, as he smiled at you, his larger hand covering yours in a manner that told you he'd pay. "All on me." He simply said, as he payed, making you pout a bit.

Walking outside, he made sure that you were comfortable with him walking you home before walking side by side with you, never too close to not pressure you. After a moment, you began to speak. "I could've payed, you know-" You started, but he cut you off with a question.

"Why won't you call me by my name?" He asked, and you began to chew on your lip. There was no specific reason you could think of that would make sense to him. It just felt like you'd let him in if you were to say his name out loud. It was a taboo thing to call your superior by his first name, but that had been the past. Now it would mean that you were considering him your friend. Or maybe even.. more. "Do I make you uncomfortable?" He asked, and you shook your head immediately.

"No, its just.." You started, trying to think of something.

"Don't make something up now just for me. I promise I won't be offended; just be honest." He said, and you nodded.

"I'm not someone who, you know, lets people get close to me, normally." You explained, before you continued after he'd nodded, telling you wordlessly that he was following your words. "It just seems.. so intimate, if that makes sense?" Against what you'd expected however, he simply continued his gentle smile.

"That's okay. You don't have to love me right away." He offered, looking down at you with a smile. "Say it when you feel like it. We'll do whatever is comfortable with you." He offered, and you smiled.

"So you both did not, in fact, fuck each other." Jenny said, as she ate another spoonful of icecream.

"No, we did not." You said, and smiled a bit at the memory. Jenny had just gotten back from her business trip; a week full of torture as she'd called it. "We simply talked and he brought me home every day." You explained, and your friend fake-gagged playfully at that.

"Oh god, someone get me a grater for all that cheese!" She laughed, as she suddenly smiled a bit more seriously. "No but really, I'm happy. He seems nice." She said, and you nodded.

"He does."

"Do you treat everyone like me?" You'd asked one night as you shared takeout with Jungkook in his living room, having agreed to meet up at his place.

He shook his head. "Not to that extend, no. But I learned from my dad was common chivalry is- it's not that deep to be honest." He explained, as he continued eating. He looked so young like this; merely wearing a sweater and sweatpants combo, hair a bit unruled and piercings on full display. With all that business on his shoulders, one could easily forget that he was just a young man, even if he did turn 26 recently.

"Its not common, though." You commented, and he shrugged his shoulders, leaning back against the couch as he finished his meal.

"Do you want to take my bed or the couch?" He asked after a moment, after you'd finished your meal as well. You shrugged. "Then we'll sleep together." He playfully said, but got a bit shy after you'd simply nodded, not having noticed that he didn't truly mean his statement. No taking it back now though.

"Are you tired?" You asked, wondering if that was why he'd brought up the question. Jungkook was an honest guy, so he affirmed.

"A bit, honestly. Sorry." He said, but you shook your head, already picking up the empty containers and plastic bags to throw them away.

"It's fine." You simply said, as he nodded, his gaze following you for a moment before he opened the door to his backyard, ushering his dog to go out to finish his business before bedtime.

You knew you should feel at least a bit nervous, after all you'd be sharing a bed with him. But for some reason you weren't- even if something was to happen, you felt comfortable with him- enough to trust you at your most vulnerable state. At this point he'd already sneaked his way around your made up walls, way too close now to be let go off without pulling on your skin painfully at the same time. Hurting him would hurt you now- so you had simply accepted the fact that he was going to stay at your side for as long as he saw fit.

"Alright, bedtime mister." He said, leading the dog to its bed by the front door- a place his pet had chosen willingly, he once told you. "Goodnight." He mumbled, gently petting his companions head before he made his way inside his bedroom, where you followed. He closed the door quietly, turning on a small lamp on his bedside desk, before opening a window. "I like to sleep with the window open, hope you don't mind." He said, as you shook your head. You simply got into the bed after him, your way of trying to find out which side he preferred as you slipped under the covers, the smell of his by now familiar fabric softener, and distinctively his smell flooding your senses. His mattress was soft, way softer than yours at home- but it was probably worth several months worth of rent as well.

"I uh.." he suddenly said, low voice cutting through the silence after he'd turned off the lights, darkness swallowing the room fully. "I have a habit of, uhm.. undressing myself during the night so. Just to warn you." He said, before groaning a bit. "Oh god that came of kind of creepy, sorry-" But you simply laughed.

"It's okay. I hug things when I sleep, so I'll probably latch onto you during the night." You admitted, and he chuckled.

"Oh I don't mind that at all." He hummed, as you felt him turn over, probably to face you as your suspicions were confirmed when a finger almost shyly brushed over your bare arm. He was silently testing the waters, trying to find out if you were comfortable enough with him to let him go that far. To his surprise you reacted by scooting closer towards him, until your nose was close to his. He couldn't quite see you, only able to make out rough outlines as the moon wasn't shining at all outside his apartment. "Is that okay?" He asked, in a whisper, careful as if he didn't want to scare you away. He felt you nod as his hand went to lay down on your cheek, thumb finding your lower lip as he guided his onto yours, slow, as if he was only testing the waters yet.

Always so considerate.

You slowly deepened the kiss, a bit hesitant since it has been a while you'd ever kissed someone; but he took the lead after noticing you accepting his gesture, his tongue gently asking for entrance as you granted his wish, making him close his eyes as he lazily continued kissing you, his desire taking over.

Everything was slow, comfortable, and warm- the way he slowly moved to lean over you, the way his hands roamed over your body underneath your clothes. It was as if you both knew eachother already, as if you didn't need to hurry anything at all. And it was true.

He slowly undressed himself, before directing his attention towards you, helping you out of your clothes as well, careful to leave the covers over his body, as if to shield you from the chilly air coming inside from the opened window. He truly enjoyed every second, every inch of skin he laid bare of you, as his head dipped downwards, placing open mouthed kisses against your neck and collarbone as his hand gently ran over your chest, squeezing the soft flesh or a moment before his thumb grazed over the hardened nipple, making you squirm underneath him. You felt torn between a feeling of being worshipped almost, and the frustration of him going so slow. Every past sexual encounter had always been straight to the point- this was entirely new territory.

"We got time darling." He hummed suddenly amused as you began to squirm more underneath his touch. You felt his hard on against your inner thigh clear as day, yet he seemed to absolutely not notice it; his attention more so on you, as he suddenly moved underneath the covers, shaking his head a bit to get his long hair out of his eyes, piercings jingling brightly at his sudden movement before he dipped downwards, making you gasp as you felt his tongue on your center. He chuckled again as his hands held down your lower belly, keeping your hips down and legs open for him as he sucked and swallowed, making you whine at the feeling. This was the first time someone had ever gone down on you, and it made you feel absolutely incredible.

Jungkook moved again as you became close to your orgasm, hands fumbling around for a moment until he found in his drawer what he'd searched for; the crinkling sound of the foil package filling the room as you still breathed heavily. He rolled the condom over his length before he moved over you again, cooing at the cold feel of your damp skin, sweat making your body cool down rapidly. "Are you cold?" He asked, and you nodded, but held out your arms, desperate to have him close to you again. "Let me warm you up." He hummed lowly, pulling the covers over his back again before he led his cock into your core with the help of his hand, groaning at the feel of your warm walls welcoming him inside. He moved after a moment, kissing you again as if he needed to confirm that this was truly happening. "You feel like home darling." He whispered out of breath as he slowly moved a bit faster, your hands searching for his as he helped you find them, fingers intertwining as he felt his soul grow fond. He loved you, he truly did, and in that moment he realized it to the full extend. It was the same for you as he kissed your neck, hot breath against your skin making you feel protected and adored as he picked up his pace, thrusts becoming more erratic as he suddenly pushed himself inside you in one swift move, hand leaving yours to desperately move over your pearl, making your back arch off the mattress as you whined in pleasure, throwing him off the edge as well as he spilled inside the condom.

His forehead rested against your shoulder as he chuckled, slowly slipping out of you as you laughed along with him.

"I swear that was not my intention when I said we'd sleep together." He said, and you laughed a bit harder at that, kissing the side of his jaw affectionately as he kissed your neck. "I love you. I really do."

"That's okay." you said still a bit out of breath, and he wished you could've seen the bright smile he sported at your next words.

"I love you too, Jungkook."

[ichitora]

「 Birth 」

:: Because this day is not only about his birthday

» with Chifuyu Matsuno and Toman founding members

《Content Warning - Canon divergent - AU, third POV, Comfort, just characters interacting with each other, platonic relationship, tr dvd booklet 1 minor spoilers》

【 notes - Happy birthday to my one and only, Kazutora! 】

The traffic light turned red.

The road was heavily busy for an unknown reason to which Kazutora paid no heed. His eyes were on the vehicle before them. A classical music played, filling the silence of what seemed to be an empty shell of a car and somehow isolating them to the noisy businesses that surrounded them. It didn’t disturbed him. Not when it’s his friend, Chifuyu who’s maneuvering, eyes stuck on the road as well.

A smoke made its appearance not too far from them, probably just a few cars away. It looked raging mad by the way its darkness occupies the sky. Kazutora raised his eyebrows.

“Huh? What was that?” Chifuyu mumbled under his breath. He propped his arm on the door and leaned his head on his fist. Kazutora did the same on the opposite side, hoping to take a glimpse of what’s going on outside.

“Damn these kids!” They overheard an annoyed old man on the neighboring vehicle. It was so loud that not even the music could cover it. Kazutora tilted his head more.

It was a small car on fire. Barely recognizable as the firemen did their best to put it off. The only thing that’s left was its bones, scrap materials no one would use.

So, that’s why the traffic became heavier.

Kazutora tucked his yellow side bangs on his ear, smirking as he squinted his eyes for a bit.

“What a lame ass.” Another person said, neither Chifuyu nor Kazutora made an effort to respond. Kazutora glanced at Chifuyu, watching the raven haired man with a tiny smile on his lips. For that moment it was as if they shared one brain cell. One brain cell that provides a huge impact straight down to their hearts.

It was some kids’ doing they say?

Of course, it only reminds them of a certain person.

Both of them didn’t have the guts to bring it up though. Their heads are connected under one idea, yet they prefer to keep it to themselves, putting it as a way of telepathic communication. It didn’t have to be talked about.

It wasn’t as if it’s a sensitive subject for Kazutora and Chifuyu, in fact the memories of the past with 𝘩𝘪𝘮 stood to be the teas they share when they have nothing else to do in the pet shop.

And how funny it could be that 𝘩𝘦 is the reason why both of them are settled in the car at the moment.

It didn’t take too long before they arrived, taking the items they brought with them until they halted in a specific family grave.

Now, the air feels like chunks of solids that are heavy to breathe on. The wind passed by from time to time, the leaves reminding them to remain reverent within their stay. Chifuyu sat like what he usually does, not minding his slacks attracting some dirt. He took a few foods out of the plastic bag, not missing the iconic peyoung yakisoba he and Baji used to share. Alongside it was a small cake and a few cans of drinks.

Kazutora, with his hair resting on his nape and shoulders, followed, going down like a frog to take another yakisoba with him. His eyes scanned the engraved characters on the marbled tombstone that didn’t look like one to him. For him, the characters before his eyes just morphed into a person he also had been longing to see for a long time.

Oh lord, he wanted to hug him so bad.

If the deities would grant him permission to see and embrace him again, he will not hesitate to do so and not let go.

“Oi, Baji.” He greeted. Chifuyu said nothing, preparing to split the yakisoba to offer it to Baji. Kazutora was certain he had something to say. He has thought of it multiple times on their way here as if he’s memorizing a script, however the way his heart clenches made him lose all the words he knew. “I...”

“... I saw a car on fire a while back.” That caught Chifuyu’s attention. He gazed at Kazutora. The wind blows, allowing him to see how his sandy eyes shone upon his words.

Within Kazutora’s smile, it reminded him of the first best birthday he ever had in his entire childhood. The memory that stayed with him after his brain forced to control, alt, delete the existence of his traumatic past.

The vehicle was burning so bright in their eyes. Just the same way it ignited their friendship the same day. Before Kazutora could even gather himself, he already had a friend who would dedicate himself to stay by his side.

September 16. It wasn’t a bad day at all, he just got the best gift he would treasure to this very day.

It aches.

Time flies as some would say, but the memories don't. The memories that can contain different emotions every second just stays. It knows how to keep up.

The longer Kazutora envisions Baji sitting in front of them, the more he wanted to tear up.

But he can’t.

His tears are too shy to show their existence. He does not intend this day to go down like that.

“I’d always share my birthday with you, you know that.” Kazutora’s voice almost wavered. Chifuyu bit his lower lip, looking down. There weren’t many words, yet the feeling felt too overwhelming to take in, it naturally oozes out from them without them knowing.

Kazutora sighed. His heart feels like it's dropping every second. He’s breathing under the water and every inhale stings.

“We used to eat peyoung yakisoba together,” Kazutora whispered, just enough for Chifuyu to hear. “One for you, and one for me.” His hand was trembling a bit as he opened the food. “But I guess this time you have to split it with this dude beside me, huh.”

Chifuyu smirked. He raised his noodle like a glass of wine. “Happy birthday.”

The containers collide. “Cheers.”

Perhaps it wasn’t just his birthday the two of them are celebrating.

Kazutora would rather like to put it as the birth of his and Baji’s precious friendship.

“Baji and I exchanged punches the very first time we met,” Kazutora stated just a little while as he and Chifuyu alternatively told Baji some stories of how their lives went. The grave stood there like a diary, both hoping for their words to reach the deceased wherever he will be. There then the older lad tilted his head, emitting a jingling sound from his earring. “He pierced my ear the same day.”

—

Chifuyu chuckled. “Well, that’s Baji-san for you.” He smiled. “I remember Mikey-kun telling me a story one time where Baji-san used to name himself Edward while he was named Michael— Mikey for short, just when they were still kids.”

Kazutora stood in disbelief. He beamed, averting his eyes to the Baji family grave. “Really? What a lame-ass. I never have heard of that.”

“I couldn’t believe it as well. I tried imagining myself calling him Edward-san instead of Baji and I just couldn’t take it seriously from there.”

They snickered.

“Edward,” Kazutora mumbled, both of them laughing again. “Who the fuck would name themselves as Edward?”

“You know, if Baji-san hears us right now he’ll be annoyed.”

“Oh, what is he gonna do? Rise from his grave? Because if the answer is yes then I wouldn’t stop calling him Edward.”

It was a simple conversation, yet it lifted up some of the unspoken woes they do their best to keep within themselves. It became like this. It was as if Baji was just with them. This place had become their comfort zone that they are a few steps away from committing weird shit right in front of his innocent tombstone.

Kazutora sighed, their chuckles fading out. He placed his hands in his pockets. “... Mikey.”

He didn’t know why the name slipped out of his mouth, hence the name also brings him back some memories, rather reminding him of one of the reasons why things have ended up like this.

And as if he was a summoning expert, he felt a presence on his back.

Kazutora didn’t move.

Chifuyu’s eyes widened for a split second with the newly arrived person’s appearance, still in his casual black tees and checkered coat, paired with black pants. His hair that is as dark as night, danced to the chilly breeze of the wind.

The light atmosphere they built up had been adulterated. None of them said a word. Kazutora didn’t have to look back at who it was. Just the aura was enough to be aware of who’s with them without a doubt.

Mikey stood with hands in a praying position, shutting his eyes with his silent prayers for a few moments before straightening his posture. All of them were like statues, waiting for someone to try to break the silence. The yellow-eyed lad breathed slowly, feeling his heart slowing down in heartbeat.

Manjiro Sano.

Kazutora wouldn’t deny how awkward they are currently. Mikey forgave him and they ended on good terms. yet the graze in their friendship can no longer be mended. They’re now left as two individuals who pay respect to each other, without resentment and without regret as to how they want to put it.

“I—“

“It’s been a while, Baji,” Mikey said. His voice never ceased to strangle Kazutora in his words while Chifuyu was just there, paying witness to what can unfold next. “I hope you’re happy.”

Kazutora smiled. A genuine one. “... He is.”

Chifuyu, Kazutora, Mikey— seeing the three of them together all fine with each other would surely give relief to Baji wherever he may be, that’s what Kazutora would like to think. At least that thought comforts the weight he always carry with him since the beginning.

He didn’t die in vain.

They all looked at the grave with their sincere eyes, as if it was telling Baji that he could always be at peace. It was mixed with emotions of missing a loved one with a glint of happiness no word can describe. It felt like a story ending where one way or another they have to bid their farewell and go on.

“The others... they’re waiting.”

Chifuyu and Kazutora glanced at him, faces painted with confusion. There then they noticed a group of people not too far away from them. The latter’s doe eyes thought he was looking at something unreal, chest rose and fell— puzzled. The edges of his lips stretched involuntarily all the way towards his ears. He couldn’t believe he’d be seeing them all at once today. Not when he hadn't seen them together for years.

Pah chin, Draken, Mitsuya—

It’s the rest of the Toman founding members.

What he heard next was another surprise.

𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘺…

“Kazutora, happy birthday.”

Thus, the rest of the day was Chifuyu tagging along with Tokyo Manji Gang’s founding members for Kazutora’s birthday that also served as a small, unexpected reunion.

“I already ordered some food on UberEats. Thank you very much, Kazutora!”

The gang cackled.

“O-oi! Mikey— I didn’t even bring my wallet! Chifuyu!”

“Doesn’t sound like a me-problem at all. That’s on you, you bastard.”

“Don’t worry too much, Kazutora. Pah Chin got us!” says Mitsuya in his gentle voice.

“Oi, why am I even dragged into this?!”

Perhaps, Kazutora's day could still get better without him knowing.

[spacehologramcollection]

Kombat Kast in lockdown:

Real talk, I could have continued writing this. But I’m easing myself back into writing. Some nice fluff with a dash of NSFW. I’m planning on doing a part two, because this is very long. 

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, get your dentist on speed dial. Little bit of NSFW. Lockdown. 

18+ under the cut guys. 

I don’t own the GIFS. 

·         Kabal:

He’s ready for this. He’s prepared. He cannot wait to spend some quality time with you. Both pre and post burn would be so happy and stoked to spend time with you. Both pre and post burn Kabal, are going to be in their comfiest joggers, hair tied back and glasses on. Takes advantage of the time to catch up on some TV with you, play some videogames and also losing track of what day and time it is. Is 2am too early to make pancakes? No. Because you’re running on lockdown time. Awake at 3am trying to make Macrons because the video made it look so easy. Dancing around your shared apartment like idiots. Though, post burn Kabal would prefer just to hold you close and sway to the music. Lockdown pre-burn would be a dream come true for him. Lounging on the sofa, you’re laid flat against his chest, a hand in your hair. Bliss. Post-burn could be bad for his Mental Health. More time for him to think about his body and what he used to have. So, he may need a bit of TLC and a whole lot of body worship. He just needs to be reminded that he’s still the most handsome man on the planet. Also, reading comics at 3 in the morning. You’re sat crossed leg on the floor, surrounded by pillows, he’s super into comics and nerdy things. He’ll be sat eagerly watching you read his favourite issue, watching your reaction, he knows them off by heart so he’s waiting for you to react to his favourite scene. Debates to no end on who could kick who’s ass. Late nights, lazy mornings and afternoons. Post-Burn Kabal will refuse to put a shirt on. Just lounging around in his joggers. He will need a hand shaving his hair. He always needs a hand with the back. He will let it get a little longer during lockdown. Maybe, if you beg hard enough, he may let you spike it. Best lockdown buddy. Also, Ninja mime marathon, with a drinking game thrown in. Working from home is hard. Especially with his fine arse on your couch. Smiling as you’re on a zoom call. Screaming ‘TELL THEM I SAID HI’ Post-burn Kabal won’t want to appear on them as much. Often miming the action for a drink, bringing you lunch and also looking over your shoulder. Before kissing you softly on the cheek.

         Cassie Cage:

She’s pretty sure her mum is going to flip her shit. But she doesn’t care. She doesn’t want to work-out or train to her absolute limits. You’re here with her and she wants to chill out with you and hang out with you. Like a normal fucking couple. So, she’s breaking a few rules for you. Don’t tell no one about that though. Your both in lockdown in her apartment. You’re both debating if the hallway should be neon orange or neon pink. You’re bored so you end up redecorating the place. Stained. Hair. A playful splat on the nose turns into a mini paint fight. You both also make handprints on the wall together. Because that’s one way to remember it… that and she saw it in Up and though it was cute. Getting wasted happens a few times too. She admits she wants you to be like the couple from UP, but she doesn’t want it to be as sad. She’s also on the floor sobbing because the brownies aren’t done yet. A lockdown with Cassie is fun every day. She ordered a bath bomb for you both to take a relaxing bath together. She also ordered you a few beers to enjoy whilst in there too. She gets pissed with how long her hair is getting. So, it’s time for the undercut to make a comeback. Queue Cassie bringing out the clippers and asking you to help her cut her hair shorter. Playfighting to no end. She’s let you pin her a few times, you’re pretty sure it’s sympathy, but you’ll take that victory. If you suggest a Ninja Mime marathon, she’s straight up refusing. This is a mini vacation from her parents. She doesn’t need to see a full feature length marathon of her dad. Weird food concoctions galore. You’re also dying each other’s hair stupid colours. She literally texts Jacqui ‘Pick a colour’ and then that’s it, you’ve dyed your hair. She’s so full of energy and it’s infectious. She’ll always make you smile. If you have to work from home, she’s going to try and be quite, but she wants to know what you’re doing. Everyone thinks she’s great in your work calls, she’s often requested to say hi. They love her.

·         Smoke (Tomas Vrbada): Smoke is more on the introverted side. He’s got books picked out. He aims to read a book a day where possible. And he’s totally keeping a reading log, so he has something to look back on. If you’re cooped up in the Lin Kuei temple, he’s going to be more stressed. There’s something ever so slightly stressful about been stuck with Bi-Han who gets very restless. That, and he thinks you both have to be quite, because everyone there is a nosey bastard. The one-time Smoke called you his dove, Bi-Han teased him and took the piss for three weeks straight. He can’t be dealing with that. That and he will eventually give up getting dressed. He will walk around in his dragon onesie, attempting to get some food. Ignoring all of Kuai’s attempts for him to get dressed. He’s in lockdown mode. Which means, his comfy socks are on, the string lights are on, and he’s ready to cuddle up with you. You did, once walk into the kitchen to see Bi-Han and Tomas dancing terribly, an empty bottle of vodka on the table, Kuai face in his hands blocking out the terrible dancing.  He’d also much prefer to be in lockdown in your apartment. In a mass of blankets, some ice-cream, lots of string lights and some good TV on. He’d take this opportunity to teach you a little Czech too. Also, in your apartment he can wear his dragon onesie and dance with you like an idiot. Without judgement and shaming the Lin Kuei. And embarrassing Kuai. A lot of terrible dancing, spinning, him picking you up and throwing you onto the sofa playfully. He becomes a little more extroverted around you. Don’t get me wrong he loves nothing more than comfy silence, reading in bed, whilst you’re drawing circles on his chest. But there’s something fun about eating brownie and pizza at 2 in the morning. Fucking wild. If you need to work from home, he respects your space and will sit silently reading, looking over and smiling as you work. He’ll bring you tea and sit crossed leg on the sofa with you. Your workmates think you’ve hit the jackpot.

Bi-Han:

He fucking hates lockdown. He doesn’t want to get sick. But he hates the same four walls. He starts irritating people on purpose. Not you though. Your precious and he loves you. But Kuai and Smoke are fair game. Queue hiding Smokes special shampoo, replacing Kuai’s uniform with one that’s too small for him. Winding people up to their limits. Because he’s bored and was born to be a little shit. At your apartment everything is different. He knows Kuai is more than capable of running things without him around. And is more than happy to do this for him. So, he’s off. He’s usually in his underwear, teasing the fuck out of you. Pray you don’t have to work from home, because he’s very distracting. Always stood behind the laptop when you’re on that zoom meeting, slowly slipping those joggers lower and lower. Lord have mercy on your soul. He does make appearances in your calls. On his best behaviour. Envy of everyone. He’ll cook for you when you’re working too. If you’re not working, he’ll always insist on cooking with you, he used to love cooking with Kuai when he was younger. But he’s grown up now and is grumpy all the time. He misses it. But he loves cooking with you. Queue you both dancing whilst waiting for the food to cook. Spinning you around. Maybe a quick make out session on the counter. He wants a bit of normality, and whilst the situation may not be normal, it’s sure as hell more normal than his usual schedule. He gets a little philosophical in the early hours of the morning. Talking about your future, if you want kids, what kind of dog you want, that sort of stuff. It’s times like this, where your both sat on your kitchen floor, sharing a drink, eating some good food, he’s glad he’s back to his usual self. You’re his everything and he doesn’t tell you that often enough. He loves been able to fall asleep with you and cuddle up with you. Loves waking up at a normal time and lounging in bed with you. Your lockdown time brings you closer together, to the point he probably would propose to you during lockdown. He hasn’t got a ring, but please accept his headband. Just till he can get you one.  

·         Kuai Liang (Sub Zero): Oho. Kuai is in for a rude awakening. He won’t want to leave Arktika. He cannot leave his clan. Bi-Han can be trusted, but he wants to remain with his clan. He’ll apologise that you’ve got to spend lockdown in the cold, but he’ll make sure you’re comfortable and have everything you may want and or need. He’s very curious when you’re working from home. He must admit he finds it interesting that you can still do your job, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. When people ask where you are, you have to lie, and you’re not sure they buy that your boyfriend owns a castle. But hey fucking ho. It’ll do. You’ve caught him once or twice drifting past, tea in hand, trying not to glance at your screen, when you’re on a call. You end up dragging him into the call and introducing him. Luckily, he’s in some more normal clothes. So, no questions get dragged up. He’s always handing you tea and bringing you sweet snacks to keep you going. Soft kisses on the forehead when he knows no one is watching. You kind of feel easier been at the temple. It’s in the middle of nowhere, which actually makes you calm and keeps you chilled. Kuai will make sure the fire is stoked. He’ll also leave you to work and will keep checking on you. He’s busy with his brother and the Lin Kuei. But he makes a habit of you both having lunch together. He’ll bring you lunch and you’ll both sit and eat together. On an evening in his free time, he spends it all with you. Asking about your day, asking how it went and if you’re okay. A lot of catching up in bed, with you both laid there, his arms wrapped around you, whilst you rest on his chest. He’ll whisper sweet things to you, brush the hair from your face and remind you that you’re his everything. Lockdown with Kuai has a lot of structure. And it’s nice to spend time with him.

·         Hanzo Hasashi (Scorpion):

He’s very similar to Kuai. He has a whole clan of ninja to run so he’s got to be out and about. So, if you need to work from home, he gets it… though he doesn’t need a laptop to do his work. Queue him leaving early and coming back late. He does make a habit of dropping in when you’re on lunch to take you for a walk through the gardens. He’ll also leave origami and notes for you to wake up to. He loves having you around, and very much like Kuai, he’d prefer you to be with the Shirai Ryu. You’re safe her and he does love waking up to you every morning. He loves it so much. He does actively avoid your zoom calls though. He’s a ninja so he’s pretty good at stealthy walking around, dipping and diving to avoid featuring on there. He just doesn’t like a lot of attention. He does end up one though. He had managed to secure a lie in. His bones were aching from training the night before. Takeda was entrusted with waking him… though he thought Grandmaster Grumpy face deserved a lie in. When he awakens, he lazily walks out of your shared room, wondering where you are, shirtless and only in some pants. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Only to softly say your name, open them, to see you’re smiling up at him awkwardly. You’re on a company wide call, and he’s stood there shirtless, hair tussled, and looking like sin incarnate. Queue a lot of people whistling so loudly, he can hear from the headphones you’re wearing. He mutters some swears in Japanese before moving on. You can’t help but giggle a lot, which makes him chuckle to himself. He’s stoic so there ain’t no teasing. But he does love folding the laptop down when you’re working over. Muttering how you can’t overwork yourself. Which is very hypocritical, but you’re not arguing. And you know you need a break, queue Hanzo suggesting a relaxing bath and cooking together. Slow dancing around his room is something he’s reluctant to do, but he does do it with you, because those eyes can’t get any bigger.  He loves this lockdown period. And he grows used to having you around all the time. Soft kisses and romantic talks, Philosophical debates and him slightly complaining about training. Takeda loves that you’re here. Hanzo isn’t such a hard arse with you round.

·         Johnny Cage:

Oh, fuck yes. Lockdown. He’s going to write a screenplay, arrange his awards, build that shelf for the Oscar he’s definitely winning this year. Reply to some fan mail… that was until you wake up and walk out in one of his shirts. His plan definitely changes. You end up trying on all his sunglasses, all his jackets and rings and pretending to be him. Which makes him laugh a lot. He’s sure he doesn’t actually walk and sound like that… does he? He hopes not. He’ll try and install a routine, but that goes out of the window the first night. You’re sat drinking smoothies at 1 in the morning. You’ll become nocturnal. So, it’s a good job he doesn’t have neighbours close by. Two-man parties, with you skyping Cassie, so you all can hang out together. Dancing around, playing those shitty games. Cassie and Johnny get competitive with trivial pursuit and monopoly. You’ve never seen anything like it. It’s insane. You both take the time to catch up on TV together, Johnny has a terrible habit of pointing out all the parts he could have had. But you know, turned down. He’s always got the best food in and best quarantine snacks. Whatever your heart desires he’s got it. Best internet too. So, working from home is so easy and so comfy. You’re the envy of your workmates. Who are very jealous you’re basically in quarantine in a mansion. Johnny does walk past your zoom call on purpose, pretending to act all coy about it. Just waiting to hear a squeal from someone who didn’t know you actually dated Johnny Cage. Que your sigh and inviting him over. He practically leaps onto the sofa. Arm around you. A smug smile as he introduces himself. Not like he’s been bicep curling his award behind you. He’ll also love doing facemasks with you. Nothing better than a pamper night on the couch, some crappy movie in the background (Not one of his though) and some good wine and food. He’s literally in heaven.

·         Raiden:

He needs to consult the Elder Gods before he can spend time with you. Taking the piss obviously. He doesn’t get sick, so he offers to go into the outside world for you if need be. He doesn’t mind taking one for the team. He’s interesting to spend Lockdown with. He’s so fascinated by everything in your apartment. He’s so interested in what you do for work. When you reveal that you’re working from home, he’s watching you from the sofa, cup of tea in his hand. He’s got that face on him. The one where he wants to ask a question but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to. When he sees you’re in a meeting, he asks what you’re doing, so you may just joke ‘Consulting the Elder God Bob, God of financing and accounts’ He does chuckle at that. He does a lot of self-care and a lot of reminding you to look after yourself. As soon as it hits time to clock off, he’s tapping the clock, shaking his head before gently reminding you, that you need to rest and relax and that you’ve earned it. He’s brewed some fresh tea and he would like you to join him. He’s so good to you. He doesn’t do been on the zoom calls though. He has waved once or twice. But other than that, he kind of watches curiously. He’s read all the books in your apartment, if you’ve got a cat, he’s in fucking heaven. Like, you’re cat ain’t walking over your screen, because he’s snuggled up to Raiden. The man is a magnet for cats. If your apartment is a little disorganised, he may sort it out. That cupboard full of mismatched Tupperware and pans, all sorted, all with the correct lids. You could cry when you pull out a pan and it’s got the right lid on it. He’ll love baking with you too. He’s a sucker for freshly baked bread and he teaches you how to make it. Nothing nicer than him having him wrapping his arms around your waist whilst you’re baking. Lockdown equals privacy and he’s taking advantage of his rare opportunity. At night he’ll love to sit on your balcony, watching the stars and enjoying the fresh air. He’s so warm and he’s got a comforting smell to him. He’s literally bliss.

·         Fujin: (Fujin could raw me after the trailer not going to lie)

Windy boi is happy he gets a break from all the bullshit. He does miss Raiden though. They don’t often spend a lot of time away from each other. So, he’s constantly communicating with him. But you make everything easier. That, and he wants to make sure you don’t get sick. By the Elder Gods he can’t have that. Likewise, if you have a cat, please let him hold and pet it. Nothing better than you looking up from your work call, seeing him stood there holding your cat, smiling away and scratching its chin. He appears often in your zoom call. Envy of all your colleagues, because who has hair that perfect and healthy. They ask for his stylist. He’s not sure how to respond to that. He got called a DILF and you had to explain that to him. You had to explain what a DILF was to the god of wind. Holy fuck it was awkward. He’ll let you braid his hair and he’ll also love it when you shower together. Because he loves been close and intimate with you. And the shower is a private place, so he feels he can open up and be more intimate with you without judgement. He’s still shy and new to this whole relationship thing. So, lockdown allows him to be close to you. You’ll also get to introduce him to pop culture. He’s not sure what to think about it. He’s got such a strange, dry sense of humour. When you’re watching Ninja Mime you hear him just say, ‘A clown in the movies, a clown in real life. Art imitates real life’ And you lose your shit. It’s the funniest thing to leave his mouth. He kind of loses it too. He gets really into Game of Thrones. He’s so into it. You don’t know how to tell him how the last season was shit. You don’t have the heart to break it to him. Teaching him to dance too. Oh god. Him getting a bit flustered and picking you up over his shoulder and spinning you around. Also, I can see lockdown running into summer, so you’ve got your own personal fan. At night, he’ll love to settle down in bed with you, whilst you talk absolute shit. You can bitch about anything, and he will listen, provide quips and make you feel better. He has no idea who Kate in Marketing is, but he knows, we don’t like her. I headcanon Fujin is pretty damn musically talented, so he’ll just randomly pick up that guitar or violin that’s there because A. Aesthetically pleasing and B. bought to try and discover a new hobby. And he’ll just start playing it. He loves seeing you smile too and he’s there for you if lockdown ever gets too much. He lives to make you smile.

[merrumeru]

Let me cheer you up even more: Graham!90 x reader

Words: 1870

Warning: nope, zero

The room was dark. The only light that could enter the room was the glow of the stars and of the tiny moon in the night sky. I was surrounded by silence as the last song on the vinyl record ended twenty minutes early. I had no desire or humor to get out of bed and change it. I focused on my slow and deep breathing. It was supposed to help me calm down, but it didn't work for me. My eyes were fixed on a distant point in the sky. I felt as if I was sinking into my anxiety. But I couldn't understand why. My life was going in quiet rhythm, I had a roof over my head and someone who cared for me. However, the thought of the future made me panic. Looking at friends who knew what they wanted to do in life, at Graham and his thriving career…I was stalled. I couldn't find a place for myself or this one thing that would be my passion. Graham always said that everything is fine with me, that I will somehow put my life in order. That he, my age, was also feeling lost. Still, the thought of working or continuing my studies scared my in the deep of heart. If I can't see my future myself, so does it even exist? I covered myself with the duvet. From head to toe, as if I was going to disappear. I promised Graham I would wait for him tonight. We'll watch a movie and eat something good. But suddenly I lost my desire for anything. I wanted to fall asleep and wake up in a much better mood. I suspected it was almost 10pm and Graham would be back from the band rehearsal soon. 

I heard the key in the door twist. The hit of his backpack on the ground and the sound of shoes being taken off. „Love I’m back”. The mellow voice of Graham sounded so happy. But I was about to ruin it all. On the one hand, I wanted to tell him how hopeless I felt, on the other hand, I preferred not to put stress on him at home. I didn't want to be a sad part of his life, I was supposed to help and encourage him. Graham was more delicate than I was and much more concerned about everything. I didn’t want the negative emotions and stress which he felt through a lack of privacy and high expectations soaking into his heart also in our home. So I pretended to be asleep.

I heard him slowly approaching the bed. He probably didn't expect to find me sleeping. I heard his soft laugh. „Y/N why you always decide to miss the best fun. Okay. I'll put the food in the fridge and lie down too.” 

„I’m awake”. I turned to face him. It was dark enough in the room that I could only see his silhouette.  

„Did something happened?” I heard his voice suddenly turn serious. I knew that he suddenly felt tensed, as if I was about to say that some kind of disaster had happened. I was silent for a moment, not knowing what to say. „You are sick? Did something unpleasant happen to you at university? Sorry to be late, but you didn't call so I thought everything …”

„No! No Graham, everything is ok. I’m just tired” I stopped in the middle of a sentence, a lump that appeared in my throat blocked all words. „You will be angry if we put our romantic evening in another evening, or day, or  whatever?”

„Hey, who do you think I am. Of course it's not a problem baby.” I felt the bed on his side slowly bend under the weight of his body. Graham put his hand on my head and lightly stroked my hair. „I'm just worried. You've been sad for a while and I don't know how to help you.” I stretched my hand toward him and squeezed his hands tightly. „Your voice is so weak, yet your grip is still hard”.The moonlight illuminated his face and a shy smile. His thumb gently caressed the back of my hand.

„Nothing happens. I've just had bad days lately. You know, life is too much to handle for me sometimes.” 

„You can always tell me about anything Y/N. I don't want you to feel lonely in difficult times.” Graham released my hand. He took off his hoodie and tossed it next to the bed. After a moment, he was lying next to me, pressing me tightly to his chest. „God, why are you so emotionally unavailable. Will you ever stop being a mystery to me?” He placed a few kisses on my hair. I put one leg on his hip and gripped his T-shirt tighter. I wanted to blend in with his skin.

„I love you so much Graham. I don't know how to express it all.” His heart was beating fast. He radiated a warmth that I missed so much. I could wear a hundred sweaters, be surrounded by several heaters while sitting on one of the sunny beaches, and nothing would warm my heart and hands more than his inner warmth. 

„You don't have to show it or look for ways to express it. Just trust me and let me understand you.” His hand rested on my bare thigh, which I got on his hip.He used his finger to paint little circles. I brought my mouth close to his and kissed him softly. One sloppy stroke of the lips, but right after that a second time, much deeper and passionately.

He pulled me towards him so that I was suddenly on top of him. Our lips hardly detached.I felt hotter and hotter, as if all the accumulated emotions had suddenly burst forth and like a wave and found their way out. I felt dizzy, all my bad thoughts disappeared like clouds after the storm. Graham's hands got under my shirt and rested on my bare back. I opened my eyes and broke off the kiss. I straightened up, staring deeply into his eyes. Graham lowered his hands to my hips and gripped them tightly.

„You have such a handsome face, bastard. We both started laughing. „Handsome, talented… you are made to be star.” I pinched his cheek that he grimaced slightly, small lines forming on his nose.„And these crowds of female fans undressing you with their eyes.”

„I'm just looking for the eyes of one girl in this crowd. And I don't have to undress her with my sight. She does it by herself when we are at our home.” Graham straightened his glasses and rose to his elbows.”I just hope that she listen carefully to my words and will follow them. After all, with me, she doesn't have to be afraid of anything.”

He tucked a few locks of hair behind my ear and placed a hand against my cheek. My head rested on it. „Y/N just take it all easy. You are good enough at what you do right now. Life is not only about challenges. Sometimes there are occasions that come by themselves. Whatever it may be, I will try to be always by your side.” I wanted to cry and didn’t know if it was more of sadness or pure happiness and peace that overwhelmed me. 

“When did you get so mature? Two years ago, you wouldn't have been giving me such deep advice, just trying to make me laugh or whatever. Where's my baby boy gone?”  I smiled at the memories of the beginning of our relationship.  Even though Graham is three years older than me, I have always had the tendency to mother him. His delicacy combined with shyness and frequent confusion made me place my whole heart in his hands. I loved watching him do what he loves and his hard work was paying off.

“You have a great influence on me. I doubt if I could mentally handle this without you.” Graham's eyes were on me as I got up from the bed.”Where are you going love?”

“You don't even know how much I feel like having tea.” I stretched gently because my whole body was asleep and put on his hoodie that was lying on the floor. ”I'll do one for you too. You can easily go take a shower. When I'll come back, let's stay in bed, we've been doing it much too rarely lately”. 

Graham chuckled and get up without one word. Before I left the room,I looked out of the corner of my eye as he took off his shirt. I bit my lower lip. His body was lean, not very muscular. It pained me that he couldn't see how handsome he was. His broad-shouldered silhouette, bathed in the darkness of the night, made me want to approach him, hug him tightly and kiss his back. Graham turned to face me and tossed the shirt in his hand at me. „Don’t peek! You were supposed to make tea hmmm?”

„Oh c’mon mr.She Coxon. I won't give you back this shirt.” 

„Just like my hoodie?” I saw him shift the weight from one leg to the other and cross his arms over his chest. 

„What is this slander towards me, Coxon?” I stuck my tongue out at him and, without waiting for an answer, disappeared into the darkness of the hall.

When I returned with two cups, Graham was waiting for me. The room was lit now by a single lamp in the corner of the room. His hair was still wet, he was wearing sweatpants but still no shirt. The towel hung loosely around his neck.  Graham flicked through the vinyl records, humming some tunes. Eventually he settled on one and put it in the adapter. I put the tea on the bedside table and lay down, trying to guess what music was about to start playing.

Graham positioned himself between my legs so that his head rested on my stomach.I gently stroked his thick, still wet hair. "God, I don't know how I'll survive these two months without you Y / N”. His hands wrapped around my torso.”Fucking hell”.

“You can always lie like this with Damon.” Graham turned his head abruptly, his chin gently digging into my stomach.

“This is a bloody bad idea. Where do you get such strange ideas from”

“I am not the one who has a deep male friendship. Straight fact, baby. I watched a program once about people in the jungle and they did weird things ...” I ran my finger down his nose.

“What the fuck, I won't be in jungle, in fact we even won't be in village. We're not going to a survival camp.” 

“You never know Graham. What if the plane will stuck on a desert island, or the bus will be unable to leave the forest?”

“Maybe let's not go that far. Let's go back to why I'm going to miss you, your body, your words and just being here.” Graham pulled himself to meet my lips.

“But the the-...”

“It won't get the legs and come out by itself. Let me cheer you up even more.”

[omgreally]

The Apprentice Read on AO3

Pairing: Din Djarin/F!Reader Rating: E for Explicit, Of Course Wordcount: 5k+ Summary: Peli Motto took you off the streets of Tatooine to become one of the best apprentices she's ever had - but honestly, the DUM droids are setting the bar pretty low. Still, you work out well for the first few months until an armored Mandalorian stranger lands with a busted-up ship and a strange magic baby and, well, you're intrigued. Even though you know you shouldn't be. Peli's always teling you to keep away from anything hot but sometimes, to fix something, you have to stick your hand straight into the fire.

Chapter One  - The Arrival

“Hey, Peli! We got some hunk o’ junk requesting to land. Want me to tell him where to shove his rusty old comm signal?”

The older woman cranes over your shoulder as you swivel in the rickety chair in front of the array of control and communication panels. You’ve been working at Hangar Three-Five for a few months now, and you know it takes all sorts of ‘customers’ to keep a place like this running - but honestly. You’re surprised the wreck requesting the bay can even fly.

You’re even more surprised when Peli takes one look at the screen and shoves you out of the chair, hastily pressing the transmit button.

“Clearin’ you to land, Razor Crest,” she says hurriedly. “Sorry for the delay.” She takes her hand off the button and straightens to glare at you. “Never assume like that again, Girl,” she says,  using your least favourite nickname for you. “That hunk o’ junk just might be my favorite customer.”

You gape at her as you brush off your coveralls. “You serious, Peli? I mean - are you sure, ma’am? I couldn’t even see a transponder code from that...vessel.” You choose your words a bit more carefully now, reminded that while Peli has a heart of gold, she has the temper of a Tusken.

“I’ve been workin’ in this hangar since you were a babe sucklin’ at your momma, Girl,” Peli says, pointing a wrench at you. “You’d do well to listen to me more’n you do.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” you sigh, looking down at the ground.

“Now, go on to the market, why don’tcha, and pick us up somethin’ for dinner. You may have a head thick as bantha hide, Girl, but at least you’re better at negotiating than the Dums.” You wince. You know you’re just an apprentice, but damn if it doesn’t sting whenever Peli compares you to the droids.

It’s not that you don’t like them. They just...creep you out a little. Soulless little machines, scuttling around as if they’re alive when they’re just - not. Whoever invented droids was one sick carosi pup.

Peli hands you a pouch of credits - the amount of which is dwindling daily. You wonder if the engineer’s eagerness to house this beaten-up old scupper doesn’t have something to do with their lack of funds. You consider offering to forego your wages until things are better - Peli has shown you incredible kindness, taking you in off the street when your next best bet was working as a dancing girl in one of Mos Eisley’s less reputable cantinas. Who knew where you woul’dve ended up after that. You prefer this, even though it’s hard, physical work, and you’re often up to your elbows in engine grease and covered head to toe in grime and oil.

Who knew starships were so dirty.They make sense, though, and you quickly proved that you had an aptitude for it. For pulling things apart and putting them back together again, but working. You’ve fixed busted motivators and blown capacitors that even left Peli scratching her head. You suppose that, rather than sentimentality, is why she keeps you around.

Either way, your life is pretty comfortable, now. Boring, but comfortable.   You hope the credits situation isn’t going to change that.

How little you know.

---

You wander through the market, credits pouch too light in your pocket as you peruse the food stalls. You really don’t feel like dried krayt jerky a hundredth night in a row, so you’re glad Peli sent you out, but you are struggling to find something that is a) appealing and perhaps more importantly, b) affordable.

You end up in a heated argument - no, discussion - with a Toydarian over some deep-fried gorg before you give up, your temper and your impatience too piqued to settle on a decent price. You calm yourself with a trip past a stall selling all manner of imported cloth and fabrics: beautiful, delicate things, things you are not. A scarf made of deep blue silk that shimmers iridescent in the harsh sunlight catches your eye. You pause, running your fingers over it, your dirty, chipped nails a contrast to the smooth, satiny surface. 

“It would suit you, pretty girl,” says a deep, male voice. You look up into the eyes of the stallholder. He’s a surprisingly handsome man, tall, with dark skin and hair and muscles bulging from a vest that seems tactically selected to show off as much of his bare chest as possible. For someone selling fabric, he’s certainly not wearing a lot of it.

“Sorry,” you say, taking your hand back. “I haven’t got enough credits for something like that.” The ‘pretty girl’ rankled you. You’re aware, tangentially, that underneath the layers of grease and oil you have features that some might consider comely, even attractive, and your body was good enough to catch the attention of some of the seedier businessmen when you were on the street. But it is the assumption itself that you are nothing more than your face and your body that bothers you. 

“Suit yourself, gorgeous,” he calls after you as you walk away, back towards the smell of roasting meat. “I’ll be here if you change your mind!”

You grab a few deep-fried gorg from the Toydarian after all, a bottle of blue milk, and head back to the hangar in a thoughtful mood.

---

The ship has already landed by the time you get back.

It looks like it’s falling apart at the seams. In fact, you can spot several missing panels from the ground. Up close, you’re even more astonished that it managed to fly.

The ramp is stuck half-down, and you stand on your tiptoes to peer inside. It doesn’t look much better in there than on the outside. Dingy durasteel, crates all over the place, pathetic excuse for a hold, really. How can this be Peli’s ‘favourite customer’? It looks like it needs a complete teardown. Not even a rebuild, just...tear it down. It’s not even worthy to be a garbage hauler, it’s only suitable to be the garbage getting hauled. It-

“Like what you see?” 

You almost drop the bags of food and produce and manage to avoid most of it flying everywhere, save for a single pale blue pika fruit that escapes and rolls across the ground to land against the stranger’s boot. You scuttle forward to grab it, and your hand is intercepted by a gloved one, yellow fingers closing around the fruit and lifting it from your view.

You straighten and look up, up, up into the Beskar helm of a Mandalorian.

“Oh,” you say in a very small voice. Now you understand.

You’ve heard and seen tales of Mandalorians - quite a legendary one lived here for a time, not that long ago - and some of those tales were from Peli herself. She’d never mentioned that she knew one, though. 

This one is about the same as you imagine a Mandalorian to be. Armored from head to toe, no part of him visible, his eyes shielded by the inscrutable blackness of the T-shaped visor in his helm. 

He can probably see everything, though, from your heartbeat down to the anxious flush in your skin as he steps toward you and says “Here.” He slips the pika fruit back into your bag and you nod, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat.

“Thanks.”

You stand there awkwardly for a moment while he just stares at you, as if he’s a droid himself, scanning you up and down through that damn visor. You clear your throat and cock your hip, placing your hand on it and raising your eyebrows.

“Is this your ship”?” You tap your knuckles against the hull behind you, miraculously not making another panel or part fall off. “What did you do to it?

“What?” His stance changes a little; he stands up a little straighter, his shoulders set, his hands hanging down by his sides with a little more purpose than before. Posturing, you think, that’s all it is, although you’re now a little nervous as you answer.

Because he is broad. Broad and well-built, if the fit of the armor is anything to go by. He could crush your head like a pika fruit without even trying.

Still, it has to be said, for a ship like that...“It looks like it’s about to fall apart,” you say, trying for diplomatic, but by tempering your vehemence it just sounds like you’re complaining. 

The Mandalorian shrugs. “That’s why I brought it here.”

“Well, Peli is the best mechanic on Mos Eisley,” you capitulate, and you relax a little, enough to walk past him towards the control room. “I’m just surprised she’s not so picky with her clientele.”

“From what I hear, she can’t afford to be.” That stops you in your tracks. The Mandalorian has followed you, of course, and he’s right behind you as you enter the building and head to the kitchenette to put away dinner. 

“You shouldn’t listen to everything you hear, Mandalorian,” you say as you unpack the bag of measly meat, fruit and vegetables you managed to get. It goes all in the cooler for a later barbeque. That is one of the things you enjoy most about being here - sitting with Peli in front of a makeshift campfire, cooking and talking. Not about anything in particular, just...talking.

“Well, if I’m wrong, I can just take my ships and my credits elsewhere,” the Mandalorian says with a shrug. It’s then you notice that he has a pouch he’s holding up, and it hangs heavy and clinks promisingly when it moves. You lick your lips nervously, hoping you’re not about to fuck up some big deal Peli has struck with this bounty hunter warrior.

Hoping you’re not about to be shot by this bounty hunter warrior.

“For example, I know the upkeep costs around here have risen recently,” he says, letting the pouch sway back and forth, and your eyes follow it like hypnosis. “Thanks to Peli taking on an apprentice…”

You sigh. “How much?”

“Five thousand.”

You do some quick maths in your head. “Might not cover any major components that need replacing, but it’s a start. You’ll have a vacuum seal again at least.”

“Good.” The Mandalorian tosses you the pouch and you catch it with both hands. It feels heavier than five thousand, but you’ll give it to Peli first. Speaking of - where the hell is Peli?

“There, how does that feel? Look at you, who’s a handsome li’l womp rat? You are!” 

You have never heard Peli talk to anyone like that. You and the Mandalorian follow the sound of her voice out into the control room, and you find her cradling what looks like a small, wrinkled green baby, a creature with the face of a frog and ears of a bat, slightly damp and wrapped in what looks like-

“Is that - my shirt?” you ask, horrified. The creature blinks and coos at you.

“Had to give Grogu here a bath and I didn’t have any clean towels. So I borrowed your shirt. Look how cute he looks in it!” Peli tries to hand you the creature but you step out of the way. This is not how you saw your day going.

“Look, the Mandalorian here wants us to fix his ship,” you say. “He’s giving us five thousand.” You set the pouch down on the control panel. “I’m pretty sure it can be done, but if there are any busted capacitors or modulators that need fixing, that bill’s gonna go way up.”

“It’ll do,” Peli nods. “Meantime, I’ll look after this little guy. You even give him a bath last time I saw you? Don’t answer that, Mando.” Mando. So that’s what they call him. He doesn’t even have a name, just a shortening of  his title.

“Guess I’ll get to work on the ship,” you grumble, rolling your eyes as you head back out into the hot Tattooine suns.  Boring but comfortable. Yeah, right.

---

If this generates some interest I may continue to post chapters here! Otherwise, go ahead and read on AO3.

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

Footprints in the Sand

Part 4: Breathe

Summary/Author’s Note: This is wild. Part 4 already--what is happening. Thank you to everyone who has read and been supportive. All this fluff and slow burn will be worth it. Look at that rating--it got bumped up! Thank you to my wife @vaxxildan who saw I was stuck on smut and while we were sitting on the couch said, "ya know what would be hot?" And this chapter came to fruition. I do not deserve this woman, y'all.

Pairing: Oberyn x Ellaria x Reader Word Count: 4.1k (I worked hard, guys 😭) Rating/Warnings: (NC-17)/18+ Language, smut, threesome, oral (f!receiving), so many kisses, all of the kisses, arm restraint, LIGHT dom!Oberyn, multiple orgasms, Oberyn "which way do you like it? MY WAY" Fucking Martell

Parts (1)(2)(3) [MASTERLIST]

The next three days passed with ease. Each morning, a new vase of tiger lilies sat waiting for you when you awoke. And with each passing day it was getting harder to dodge the questions from the maids--who you knew were prying on behalf of your uncle. You avoided any one directly connected to the Lannisters and were careful to leave early in the morning, preferring to eat all meals in the brothel with Oberyn and Ellaria anyway.

That afternoon, the two of them met you in the castle gardens for a walk and conversation. Ellaria placed flowers in your braid as the Prince watched the two of you fondly. He assured you that there was nothing they were required to do on behalf of Dorne until their departure at the end of the week. It was a matter of waiting for the ships to be ready and his men finishing up any business the Martells had in King’s Landing. His only job was to stay out of trouble. Such a thing made you laugh--what kind of trouble could a Prince get into?

Each evening the three of you wound up back in their bedchambers at the brothel. No one bothered you. The proprietor stopped soliciting his whores to the Prince and his Paramour, and the only time someone knocked on the door was to bring up more food or wine.

With so much time, it was easy to learn more about one another. Oberyn's family was extensive. He seemed surrounded by sisters and strong women--and attributed such things to helping develop his undying love for them. Dorne was not ruled under King Robert with the rest of Westeros and remained its own municipality under the strength of its princess who defied the Targaryens. Or should you say princesses, plural. Fore Dorne did not covet such titles and bestowed them to all daughters of the Martell lineage. The title was not used to look down on the subjects who were not born in to nobility, it was a term of respect and it was earned. According to Oberyn it was an honor to hear his people call him 'prince' and he would make sure it was an honor he always deserved.

Oberyn was second in line for the throne behind his older brother, but, from what you had heard, had just as much say within the capital of Sunspear. He was smart and well spoken, but under all of that charm you knew that a fire smoldered.

Conversation with the two of them was as easy as breathing. They seemed to specialize in smiles and laughter. They loved talking about the beautiful places they had seen, the people they had met and just to see you blush--the special places they had fucked.

It was easy to lose track of time, because in their room in the brothel, it was if nothing else existed. The three of you were in your own corner of the world and it suited you. The fire crackled in the hearth as you had finished another meal and moved to stretch out on the bed, feeling the wine settle as a warm wave over your body. The noise of the streets below dissipated as the sun set around the city.

“Now this,” Ellaria said, holding your hand and tracing her finger down your palm. “Is your life line.” The two of you sat cross-legged among the pillows on the large, canopy bed in the middle of the room.

“And what does it say?” you handed your glass to Oberyn to put it on the table so you could sit up and really focus on the woman in front of you.

“It says you are going to live a long and adventurous life,” Ellaria said, with a nod.

“Oh, does it now?” you played along, glancing over your shoulder at the Prince. “Does it say I am going to travel across the sea?”

"Does it say I'm going to become a knight?"

"Is that what you want?" Ellaria recognized the jest in your voice and grinned.

"By the gods, no," you giggled.

"Then, no. You're not going to be a knight."

"What about--"

“It’s not that specific,” Ellaria continued in a serious manner. “But it does say that great things will soon find you.”

“And what about this one?” you pointed to the smaller crease toward the top of your palm and she touched it with her slender finger.

“This is your heart line,” she smiled.

“Ah,” you said. Of course it was. You knew you should stop her before she delved too far into that one, but you didn’t want to. "So, love?"

"More or less." She kept her voice carefully even.

"And what does it say?"

“It shows you have an open heart,” she said, lowering her voice slightly. “That your kindness is only matched by your ability to accept those who you care for.” She saw your hesitation and gestured Oberyn to the bed with her other hand. Oberyn knelt beside you and offered his left hand to Ellaria, mirroring you. “Look at Oberyn’s--see?” she traced the crease in his palm. “His is much the same.”

“Meaning?” you asked, biting your lip and playing the fool.

“Without an open heart,” Oberyn leaned onto his side, propping his head in his hand. His stretched out body took up most of the length of the bed. “You miss out on half of the world’s pleasures.”

"Exactly," Ellaria agreed.

"Men," he said, before leaning down to kiss the skin of Ellaria's crossed thigh. "Women. Who would want to miss out on such beauty?"

You could hear the blood rushing in your ears as the look he gave you made your head spin. Did he know what he was doing? Was it specifically for you or did he do this to everyone he met? The more time you spent with the two of them the more you were starting to understand--an open mind for pleasure, but perhaps when it came to true emotion, the two of them were a little more selective. After all, despite all of the courtesans and sexual exploits, the two of them were the only ones to hold each other through the bad memories.

"You're making all of this up, aren't you?" You tried one more time to divert the conversation but neither of them were going to fall for it.

"It's just a fun game we play back in Dorne," Ellaria shrugged. She continued to trace her finger over your palm, up to your wrist and back down. "(Y/n), I have to ask--"

"Yes?" You said, perhaps too eager.

It made her smile. "Have you ever been with a woman?"

"No," you said, and before she could ask, you swallowed hard and added. "But I've thought about it."

"Before or after I kissed you?" Ellaria asked.

"Both."

"Half of the world's pleasures," Oberyn confirmed and looked at Ellaria dreamily.

"I'd like to do it again," Ellaria said. "That is, if it's alright?"

This time she was asking. Ellaria Sand was asking to kiss you again. If you thought you felt light headed at any time in the last few days, it was nothing compared to how you felt now. The breeze that had been drifting in from the window was the only sound as it lightly rustled the gossamer curtains and blew over your heated skin. You folded your hands in your lap and knew you needed to think about it. But you didn't want to, you didn't have time. No apologies. There was nothing you needed to be sorry for while you were with the two of them. That's what they had told you, right? Seven hells.

"Yes."

The one word left your lips liked a wave crashing on the rocks. Three little letters felt like you had just given away your soul and you were happy to do so.

Ellaria smiled, adjusting her legs until she was kneeling before you. Her hand came up, brushing your hair back from your face, over your shoulder. She was soft, so soft, and smelled like citrus and what you could only imagine the sands of Dorne smelled like. She leaned forward, eyes darting down to your lips. She was just about to kiss you before she pulled back slightly. She repeated the process twice, laughing softly as the look in your eyes got more and more desperate. The teasing was too much for the rate at which your heart was hammering in your chest. So, you did the only thing you could think of and slid your hand behind her neck, crashing your lips against hers.

It had been such a long time--way too long. Your fingers slid up into her hair as Ellaria's hands cupped your face. You may have initiated the dance, but Ellaria was the one leading. She ran her tongue along your bottom lip and you let out a soft moan before allowing her entrance into your mouth.

Oberyn leaned up, watching the two of you with hungry eyes. This was something he had envisioned since he had first laid eyes on you at the feast. He bit his bottom lip, rubbing his chin as he looked at the way you allowed Ellaria to devour your lips with teeth and tongue.

"S-stop," you said breathlessly as one of her hands moved to cup your breast through your corset.

"What is it, my sweet?" Ellaria asked. It made you feel better that she was just as breathless as you were. It felt better that the attraction wasn't one sided, that the excitement was shared. She was an even better kisser than you imagined. Every night since the first kiss you shared--however chaste it may have been, you thought of how kissing her would feel. Your daydreams didn't do it justice. But Oberyn's presence was too large to ignore. Ellaria saw your gaze drift to the man in front of you and her face broke into a grin. "Do you want to kiss the prince, too?"

You took your eyes from Oberyn and looked back at her. You couldn't. You couldn't shamelessly indulge in both of them at once. Ellaria moved to kneel behind you on the bed. Her gentle fingers moved the hair away from your neck as she slid her arms around the front of your body and spoke softly by your ear. She willingly played the part of the devil on your shoulder, and she played it very well.

"What do you want?" She prompted.

"What I want and what is proper are two very different things right now," you tried to joke but she wasn't falling for it.

"I didn't ask what your preconceived ideas of proper were," she said firmly and the smile fell from your face. "I asked what you wanted. When you are with us, what are the rules?"

"No apologies," you whispered and she nipped the shell of your ear in agreement, causing your skin to break out in goosebumps. You felt her nod and you could only assume it was to Oberyn, because the man in question sat up and moved closer to you.

"Tell me, my lioness," Oberyn said, kneeling in front of you. "Do you want me to kiss you?"

"Yes, please," you said, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

"So polite," Ellaria teased and you felt her lean back against the headboard of the bed, drawing you against her chest as Oberyn moved to kneel over the both of you.

Oberyn's face felt perfect in your hands. You closed your eyes as he dipped his head and captured your lips fiercely. Any hesitation in your voice wasn't fooling him--he knew you wanted him, half of the city wanted him. Why should you be any different? Where Ellaria's face had been soft, his beard scratched against your fingers, his mustache tickled your lips as he teased your mouth with the tip of his tongue.

Ellaria let her hand move up your waist to cup your breast lightly, her voice still present beside your ear. "How does it feel to kiss the Prince of Dorne, my dear?" You moaned against his mouth in response and she laughed softly. "I agree."

You moved your hands from his face down to his open tunic, sliding your fingers under the expensive fabric and trying to push it from his shoulders. Was it bold? Absolutely. Was it what you wanted? Even more so. The action was rewarded by him shucking it off quickly, pulling from your lips for the briefest of moments before kissing you even harder than before.

"Oberyn," Ellaria said, moving her hand from your body and into his curls. Her grip on his hair caused him to slow his actions.

"I forget myself," he mumbled against your jaw. "Tell me to stop, if you like, (y/n)."

"Don't stop," you breathed against his cheek as he moved to trail his lips down your neck, across your pulse point. As he moved down, you turned your head to the side, kissing Ellaria over your shoulder.

Her hands moved to the front of your bodice, pulling at the laces that held your dress together. You encouraged her with a small noise against her lips and she smiled in return. As soon as your breasts were free, Oberyn moved from your neck to your chest. He bit and kissed and palmed them with his hands, sending a tingle through your lower abdomen. You pulled back from Ellaria to watch Oberyn worship you.

"Does it feel good?" Ellaria said against your ear as she took your hands and placed them in Oberyn's thick, black hair. "Tell him it feels good."

"Yes," you nodded as his mouth closed around your nipple and you arched against Ellaria. "Fuck," you gasped. "I don't know if I can handle the both of you at once."

"Well," Oberyn said, removing his mouth from your breast with a soft pop. "There's one way to find out." He leaned back on his knees and you felt the sudden loss of him like a punch to the gut. It must have shown on your face because he chuckled and shook his head. "Come here." It was not a request. He patted his chest and beconned you to him with his pointer finger. You crawled to him willingly, entranced by the look in his dark eyes as he leaned back against the headboard. "Put your back here," he touched his chest again and you obeyed. You were fairly certain you would have done anything he asked in that moment. The thought should have been terrifying, but it wasn't.

"Ellaria?" you said, looking for her as you laid back against the prince. The question made her smile as she removed her bracelets and placed them on the table before crawling back to the two of you.

"I'm right here, sweet one." She purred and used a ribbon around her wrist to tie her hair back away from her face.

This time when Oberyn spoke, the deep timber of his voice hummed against your bare back as your dress continued to slip from your shoulders. That voice would be in your dreams until the end of your days. It would call out the most primal desires from you, and you were ready to be consumed by it. He brought his hands around you and traced them down your arms, making the skin he touched break out in goosebumps.

"Ellaria has a talent," he said, pressing soft kisses against your temple as you settled against his bare chest.

"Is that so?" You asked playfully, proud of yourself for keeping your voice steady.

"Mhm," he hummed. His hands moved down to your dress, using them to gather the fabric and pull it up towards your waist. The loose material bunched together easily, leaving your thighs bare to the woman in front of you. You turned your head and hid in the crook of Oberyn's neck. He lowered his voice and cupped your cheek gently. "If you say stop, this stops. Do you understand?" He asked and you nodded against his neck but that wasn't enough. "Answer me, (y/n)."

"Yes, yes I understand." You said hurriedly, wanting more than anything for them to keep going. Your body gave a small jolt as you felt Ellaria's hands on your thighs, pinning them against Oberyn's legs as she dipped her head under your skirts.

"Good girl," he praised, putting a firm hand on your chin and turning your head so he could capture your lips.

Something about the way he said those two words felt like he spoke them directly to your cunt. You would have done anything he asked, anything he wanted--in that moment, he wasn't just Oberyn...he was your Prince. You would have put on a suit of armor and carried the Dornish flag. You would have fallen to your knees in the Red Keep and renounced the King himself if it meant the man holding you would call you a 'good girl' again. Seven hells, how did he do that?

He slipped his tongue inside your mouth at the exact moment Ellaria's mouth found your dripping core. Their synchronization drew a gasp from you, but wasn't surprising. They had been lovers for many years, they knew each other intimately and that didn't change simply because you were in the middle.

Ellaria was not shy when it came to pressing her mouth to the lips of your cunt. She licked a firm line from the bottom to the top of your slit, her fingers digging into your thighs to keep you spread for her. She teased. She tormented. She indulged your desire for her. She pulled back for a quick breath before diving back to you and sucking firmly on your labia. She danced around where you wanted her most and it was a sweet form of torture that you never wanted to end. You reached back and slid your fingers through Oberyn's hair, closing your eyes tightly and moaning against the side of his face.

"That's it, my lioness. Let go," he cooed, his lips moving against your cheek as he spoke. You tightened your grip on his hair as his large hands settled on your waist, keeping you still.

"Oberyn," you panted and he gripped you tighter. You could feel the hard press of his cock against your back and you couldn't help it as you shamelessly rubbed back against him, causing him to growl deeply and nip your jaw with his teeth.

"Minx," he mumbled before moving his hands from your waist, fingers trailing up your arms to grip your wrists. Ellaria chose that moment to finally close her mouth around your clit and you cried out, pulling against Oberyn who held fast. "Ah, ah," he tsked, tightening his grip. You tested his strength again, jerking your wrists against his power. You didn't want him to let go, but the idea that you didn't have a choice did things to your libido. You wanted him to overpower you, to pin you down and take what you would willingly give--such a thought made you blush and turn to hide against his neck again.

"Do you like that?" He said, a hint of breathlessness in his tone. "You want me to hold you here and let Ellaria ravish your aching cunt?"

"Yes!" You gasped out. His words made your heart race. They were filthy, and you craved more of them.

"What if I told you you looked like a vision right now? Gasping, struggling--knowing you can't say no to your prince."

That did it. Fuck. Your Prince. Your Prince. He licked a hot line up your cheek and Ellaria sucked hard against the bundle of nerves at the top of your cunt. You felt her right hand leave your thigh as she slid two fingers inside of you and you whimpered her name like a prayer to whatever gods would listen.

"Ellaria," you said, feeling a comforting heat begin to settle low in your belly. She stroked the fire of your impending orgasm with her expert fingers. She reached the places you couldn't reach with your own hand during the lonely nights in your bed at Casterly Rock. The pads of her middle two digits rubbed the soft spongy spot on the roof of your core and you saw stars. You tried to sit up as pleasure rushed through you but Oberyn held you against him tightly. You tried to squeeze your thighs together and Ellaria used the hand that wasn't currently inside of you to keep them spread.

"Come for me, just for me," Oberyn continued to talk you through it as you cried out and bucked your hips against Ellaria's face.

"I can't. It's so--fuck. Fuck," you whined, looking down to watch Ellaria's dark curls between your thighs, taking your clit in her mouth again. It was as if she could feel your gaze and she fisted the soft material of your skirts to make sure your view was unobstructed. "It's too much--"

"No, it's not," Oberyn said, pulling your hands back to wrap around his neck and letting go of your wrists. Once his hands were free, he moved them down to your nipples and pulled them both at the same time. Hard. "Again," he commanded as Ellaria sucked and he rolled the hardened pebbles of your breasts. "Breathe. I said, again."

It wasn't a request. It was a command. One you were happy to oblige as you felt another orgasm stem from your clit and up through your stomach. You opened your mouth but no sound came out.

"If I said, again, you would obey me--" Oberyn started but you shook your head. "Yes. You would. You wouldn't defy me."

"No, never," you breathed out.

"That's what I thought," he growled and gave your nipples another squeeze.

"Stop. S-stop. Oh gods." You begged and, true to his word, the game was over. He palmed your breasts gently, taking the pain away in an instant and nosed your temple. Ellaria removed her fingers from inside you and licked softly along your slit, kissing your thighs gently and bringing you back down.

"Are you alright?" Oberyn asked and you nodded hurriedly, not wanting him to think otherwise.

You felt euphoric. Your head and heart were light and it brought a smile to your face as you touched Oberyn's chin and laughed softly, nuzzling his beard. The bed moved as Ellaria came to lay in between your legs and kiss up your chest. You turned your head and met her lips. Tasting your juices on her mouth was foreign but not entirely unpleasant as the thought of what she just did with her mouth tugged at your core.

"Twice in a row," Ellaria smirked against your lips. "That's a good start."

"I don't think I could take any more." You laughed again.

"We shall see about that, my dear."

The words sounded like a challenge and you fought the urge to hide your face again. You felt a hand in your hair as the man behind you began to put your disheveled braid back in its place. He started to adjust your dress back to cover your tits and you put a hand on his, stopping the movement. It made him smile and he caught your lips as you turned your head. The taste of your cunt from Ellaria's mouth made him moan deeply and slip his tongue passed your lips without pretense.

"You look ravished," he commented and Ellaria nodded in agreement.

"I feel ravished."

"Someone should ravish you every day." He said, reaching under your dress and using his large hand to cup your still throbbing cunt.

You gasped and gripped his wrist. You weren't sure you could take anymore that quickly. The action made Oberyn chuckle as he allowed you to move his hand and hold it in your lap.

"You can't possibly go back out looking like that." Ellaria said with a coy look in her eyes. She moved up to kiss her Paramour deeply before they both looked at you again. "Maybe you should just stay?"

The request was an honest one. There was no hidden meaning in her words or in her eyes and something about it made your chest tight. The two of them patiently waited for you to turn the question over in your mind.

"I think," you paused, biting your lip for a moment before nodding. "I think I should."

The two of you kissed softly over the Prince for a moment. He turned your head gently to take your lips for his own before repeating the motion with Ellaria and much like the rest of the time you had spent with them, it felt as effortless as breathing.

--

[Next Chapter]

Tag list: @zeldasayer @halefirewarrior @earthtokace @tarrevizslas @1-800-fandomtrashqueen @readsalot73 @lackofhonor @shrew1999 @sabinemorans @talesfromtheguild @roxypeanut @leahnicole1219

If your tag didn't work, please let me know and I will fix it for next time.

[vinatintasupernovita]

2 for the warm weather/summer prompts 👀

2. “I’ll explain later, but for now, can I throw this frozen margarita in your face and call you a jerk?” with some Michael/Beelzebub

———

There was exactly two times every century or so that Heaven and Hell’s forces looked forward to. One was the long-awaited ‘Casual Friday’- that was more Heaven’s deal, as Hell had long since abandoned their dress codes- and the other was the weekend-long co-office summer beach party.

The beach party was, on the record, a strategic meeting. Heaven and Hell would get together on a secluded beach on Earth and.. ‘scope out’ the opposing side- try and find weak points. This was a crack of shit clearly as most of everyone used this weekend to let their hair down for a couple days and get out any pent up energy they had from the thousands of years of sitting in shitty cubicles that were only different in color scheme. And after a long time considering, they both decided giving up on that after the failed apocalypse would just be another kick to the nuts.

Beelzebub sat at the cabana bar- the warring forces had co-rented a hotel and their private beach this time around and everyone agreed it was a much better experience now that endless drinks were included.

They sipped on a frozen lime martini as they played with the string of their cover-up. A few of the other lords and dukes were mingling on the beach with a couple angels- none that Beelzebub really knew the names of. They preferred to sit and drink in silence since it was going to be some of the only quiet they were going to get for awhile.

“Beelzebub!” And there the silence was broken. They turned on the swivel stool and looked to see Gabriel approaching in his usual purple hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. They rolled their eyes but motioned him over all the same.

“Featherbrain, you’re looking beachy.” They said as he took the seat next to them. He shook his head when the bartender questioned if he’d like a drink, and Beelzebub continued drinking. “Still won’t taste humanity’s finest creation?”

“You know how I feel about gross matter.”

“Yes, won’t eat food or drink alcohol unless it’s with humanity’s least favorite dietician at some overpriced gastronomy joint.”

Beelzebub was one of three people that knew about Gabriel’s currently covert relationship with Famine. The other two people were Frannie- Gabriel and Famine’s girlfriend- and Aziraphale, who Gabriel had originally turned to for romantic advice as he was the only other angel Gabriel had knowledge of dating non-angels. Demons and Monsters of the human subconscious were only a couple steps away from one another on the supernatural hierarchy anyway.

Beelzebub got to know about that little circle as they were, for lack of better terms, Gabriel’s closest friend. They had a mutual distaste and disrespect-turned-respect for another for the last couple thousand years that evolved into a genuine friendship. Gabriel would spill about his new escapades in love and Beelzebub would offer advice as if they had ever had a romantic encounter in their entire existence.

That would change however as Gabriel caught them staring at Michael off in the distance. Michael was, admittedly, the hottest angel in Beelzebub’s opinion. They’d never say it out loud, but it was apparent from the way they were missing their straw as they tried to continue drinking. Gabriel only chuckled.

“Distracted, Beelzebub?” He asked, only to snap their attention back to him and get a glare in return.

“Im never distracted. Especially not by angels.” They argued.

“I never said anything about it being an angel specifically. Could’ve been Asmodeus.” He said.

“Ugh, don’t make me gag.” They said as they pulled the drink closer. “What, are you going to tell him?”

“I don’t need to tell Michael anything- he’s probably watching us right now.” Gabriel said as he leaned on the bar. “He likes to think he’s discreet but really most of Heaven knows how he likes to play spy.”

“He can’t hear us from that far-“

“No, but he can watch.” He said. “He’s good at that.

Sure enough, Michael was watching- watching with a kind of jealous glint in his eyes. He looked up from the sun-tan mirror in his hands for a moment as he tried to read Gabriel and Beelzebub’s motions. They were friends, that was clear, but Gabriel had been acting much brighter in the last few weeks and Michael had a sneaking suspicion that he knew why- he had to have some new lover.

But Gabriel wasn’t dating an angel. If it had been an angel everyone in Heaven would’ve known about it by now. But nothing- no info from anyone. And from the looks of it, it was a demon. At least, that was the working theory Michael had.

Now as previously stated, that was not the case at all as that would’ve been cheating on Gabriel’s actual partners and gross to Beelzebub, who would sooner eat glass, but Michael didn’t know that. And, for the record, he had been meaning to ask Beelzebub to a drink for the last three beach weekends, he just never got around to it. Uriel said it was because he was too chicken, but Michael would prefer to keep his pride in tact in case of a rejection.) But now, timing was critical. For both him and Beelzebub.

They had to figure out a way to get Michael to come over and assess exactly why he was staring- maybe put the moves on him, as the kids say. But they needed a reason, any rea-

They looked at their half-consumed margarita and got a brilliant idea.

“Gabriel, I’ll explain later, but for now, can I throw this frozen margarita in your face and call you a jerk?” They asked, only for Gabriel to blink at them.

“Um, sure?”

Splash!

“You holy fucking jerk!” Without a second given for Gabriel to question their thought process, Gabriel was drenched in lime margarita and all eyes seemed to be on them. Most of everyone just turned and looked and wondered or snickered, expecting some kind of further blow up in the coming minutes.

Thankfully, Michael took the bait. As he walked up, Beelzebub gave Gabriel a look that just about screamed ‘play along.’

“Is there a problem, Lord Beelzebub?” Michael asked as he looked between his now-drippy brother and the Prince of Hell. Beelzebub turned to Michael and cleared their throat.

“Just Gabriel being his usual dumbass self. I’d say he should think before he speaks but clearly he can’t ever think.”

“I resent that-“ Gabriel started, only for Michael to raise his hand slowly to quiet him.

“Now, now, we don’t need any of that. Not now, at least. We have a truce.” He said. “Gabriel, why don’t you clean up while I try to smooth things over here?” That’s when Gabriel saw Beelzebub nod, and finally it clicked.

“Oh, fine.” He said, getting up from the cabana. “We’re not done here, Beelzebub!” He was such a bad actor, but thankfully he was walking away.

“So sorry about him.” Michael said as he took Gabriel’s spot. “Let me get you another drink, on me.” He waved over the bartender. “What was it?”

“Lime margarita with a salted rim.” Beelzebub said.

“One of those and a cherry daiquiri for me.” Michael ordered, and the bartender nodded before heading to make the drinks. “Now, why don’t you tell me all about what happened?”

“You were watching us, i’m sure you could guess.” Their words had an air of mischief in them that Michael caught right away. He nodded.

“I watch everyone. But I have to say I’m surprised, I thought you and Gabriel were close.”

“He’s not the worst angel i’ve ever met.”

“But you’re not denying that you’re close?”

“He’s my friend, nothing more. Sometimes he’s much less.”

“And I’m assuming right now he’s the ladder?” Michael said as he took a sip of his drink. “You still haven’t explained what happened.”

“He was being nosey, that’s all. But damn does it weigh on you after the hundredth question.” Beelzebub lied, watching for another look of interest in Michael’s eye. “Asking too many personal questions.”

“Like?”

“You too?” They said sarcastically. “Well, if you must know, he was asking if I fancied anyone. Wanted to plan a double date with me and my person of choice and his new partners. So annoying.”

There was the info Michael was looking for- he’d have to ask Gabriel about it later but partners plural stuck to his head. That, and the fact it wasn’t Beelzebub. That was step one. Now they were both onto step two.

“And who would be your person of choice- if you have one?” Michael asked. “Any demonic entity catch your eye?”

“Id sooner discorporate myself than date anyone in the same office.” Beelzebub said. “Too close for comfort, don’t know how some of them make it work.”

“I see. I suppose I could say the same. Angels are close-knit but sometimes it could be a bit much.”

“I didn’t know you were the type to date outside the heavenly realms.”

“Well, things change with time, don’t they? I mean we should’ve destroyed one another by now but we’re drinking together instead.”Beelzebub nodded, leaning on their elbow.

“Suppose you’re right.” They said. “If you’re free, we could also get dinner together. Up to you.”

That’s when it hit Michael exactly what they were implying. He chuckled. The sly bastard.

“I think that sounds delightful.”

[miqojak]

Layers Upon Layers

one: outside layer

[Name:] "Jak." [Hair Style & colour:] "Black and orange. I wear it pulled back and braided." [Eye Color:] "Gold and jade green." [Height:]  "Fuck if I know exactly. Under five fulms." (4'9") [Style:] "Depends on the day. Maybe the hour. Leather and mini-skirts are always a good bet, though. Sometimes a nice suit, sometimes my bike gear, sometimes a little something more form-fitting, elegant and gilded - 'desert chic', I suppose." [Best Physical Feature:] "Definitely my ass...though my legs cut it close, on that one. What do you think?"

two: inner layer

[Fears:] "You ask that and actually expect people to tell you?" (Small/enclosed spaces with no readily available exit, levin, Garleans, people getting too close to her/seeing who she really is) [Guilty Pleasure:] "People feel guilty for what they like? Who's going to judge me, the sheep who can't come up with a single original thought of their own, and feel guilty if they do?" [Biggest Pet Peeve:]  "Biggest...that's tough, actually. Probably blithe optimism, or naivete. People too ignorant, or unwilling to ask questions and look deeper - or those simply unwilling to face hard truths. There can never be any growth if you aren't honest with yourself, after all. Unmotivated slackers. If you have no goals, why are you wasting this star's air?" [Ambition for the Future:] "To be feared and respected in equal measure. I've been pushed around for a long time, and now it's my turn."

three: thoughts

[First Thought When Waking Up:] "Probably...my to-do list for the day? That or wondering what the weather is like, and whether or not I'll be going on my usual morning run or be stuck working out indoors. That or 'Huh, they haven't killed us all yet.'" [What You Think About the Most:] "What my next step is in life - how I want to pursue that power I'm after without compromising who I am...and how the fuck I ended up with someone who actually cares about me in my life while distinctly trying to avoid that type of thing...and why he stuck around. I wonder about the 'why' a lot." [What You Think About Before Bed:] "Depends on the day, and what's happened, and if I'm headed there alone. If I'm not alone, it's probably something to the effect of 'I still can't believe he wants to be here/wants me to be here'. And whether or not I'm alone...there's always the nagging, ugly reminder that Garlemald's towers sit hunched in the sky, ready to end everything for everyone - predator and prey alike. It could be the last night for any of us." [Your Best Quality Is:] "My ass. But other than that...well, I'm honest, and my loyalty can't be bought. I'm not a good person, but I have my own...'code', in a sense, I guess."

four: what’s better

[Single or Group Dates?] "Group dates sound like a punishment. I can barely stand the slack-jawed idiots around me as it is. Though undoubtedly the punishment would be upon the others, considering who my date would be, and the fact that we'd probably spend the time verbally destroying the other couple." [To be Loved or to be Respected?] "Respected. Love without respect is horrifying. I've been there, I've suffered it, and I'm still recovering. But I still...don't know that I believe in love. At least not how most people do, I guess. Love makes people do stupid shit when they believe in it. Respect doesn't. Respect can stand alone, without needing love. Respect has to be earned. There's no claims of 'respect at first sight.' But like I said...love without respect is...ugly. Scary, even." [Beauty or Brains?] "Both, or no deal. Brains are essential, but I can't have a walking pile of dogshit on my arm, now can I?" [Cats or Dogs?] "Neither, I don't do pets - animals are food. But...I suppose I'd say dogs, though you'd probably incorrectly assume cats, based on the fact that I resemble one. But...there's been more 'canines' in my life in the last year or two than I care to recall."

four: do you…

[Lie?] "No. Not unless the situation is dire - my morals don't matter if my life is on the line. Survival comes first always." [Believe in Yourself?] "Much more than I used to. I've accomplished, and survived, more than most could even begin to imagine." [Believe in Love?]  "Not...really? Maybe? Though I'll admit that for all my vehement denial in the past, someone has made me re-examine my emotions in the last half a year or so. I don't think I believe in the sort of 'love' that the general public believes in. I had someone force his fairy tale romance down my throat and do me a lot of harm both physical and mental with those ideals, as he forced me to be someone I wasn't. If adhering to what society expects of love is all that someone cares about - hitting the expected gestures as told in fairy tales? That's about as real as a fever dream. I don't like the word 'love'. Not what it's come to be associated with, and what's expected of you along with it." [Want Someone?] "For the first time in my life...yes. Not that I don't 'have' him as much as I can claim such, but when he's not around, I find that I want him to be. So...yes?"

six: have you ever…

[Been on Stage?] "No? I mean, my organization does run a jazz club, and it's been various theaters before that, and I've...sat on the stage, basked in the spotlight of an empty theater? I prefer to be...less in the actual spotlight, however." [Done Drugs?] "I've only been clean and sober for...maybe a year now? So yeah. I've...done a lot of drugs." [Changed Yourself to Fit In Somewhere?] "I've been a con-artist to put food on the table, but I don't believe in changing who you are to 'fit in.' If you don't fit in...you don't fit in. You are who you are. Being anything else is a lie, and does you a disservice. It's also a pathetic cry for attention - for the other bleating sheep to accept you into their herd. I won't debase myself to 'fit in' with my lessers."

seven: favorite

[Favorite Color:] "Black, white, gold, and red. I don't have just one." [Favorite Food:] "Once more, I don't have just one. I like red meat, I like seafood, and I enjoy rolanberries quite a bit. Of late, I think my current favorite snack is takoyaki though - this fried dough ball with octopus inside...just thinking about it makes my mouth water." [Favorite Game:] "Breaking and entering."

eight: age

[When Your Next Birthday Will Be:] "No idea." [How Old Will You Be?] "No clue. I'm...twenty and four summers, roughly...give or take a couple." [Age You Lost Your Virginity:] "Care to lose yours to one of my knives, here?" [Does Age Matter?]  "Should it? I suppose I'd be a bit baffled to see an old geezer with a hot young thing, but even so...who cares? I haven't exactly had a lot of lovers, but I don't think I ever asked any of them their age. So long as people stay the fuck away from kids, it's a non-issue in my opinion."

nine: in a partner

[Best Personality:] "An unflinching realist who not only faces the truth, but deals it out themselves. Ambition, and the ability to be honest with themselves about who they are." [Best Eye Colour:]  "Who gives a shit? If I find them worthwhile, I'll like their eyes, I assure you." [Best Hair Colour:] "Who's out here checking people off a list because their hair is the wrong color? I mean, after some shit I went through, I might not want to ever see another red-head again, but realistically...who gives a single fuck? I think you're asking the wrong questions here. People often do - too busy dwelling on lust at first sight." [Best Thing to do With a Partner:] "Murder? Crime in general? ...Or a hot bath."

ten: finish the sentence

[I Love…] ...I just told you I don't do love. But...I do love the sun." [I Feel…] everything at once, or nothing at all, it seems." [I Hide…] who I am." [I Miss…] my family." [I Wish…] ...wishes are for simpletons. Actions achieve what you want." Thanks for the tag: @eligos-venator @placesyoucallhome @bek-sc @sundered-souls (I think I found you all who tagged me!)

I am late to this party! Tag yourselves if you want to do it, so I can read your stuff! I feel like most folks have done it, and I'm too brain-dead atm to root around in the bowels of Tumblr to see who hasn't, since I'm many days late! XD

[prettyboyreid]

tell me about the stars

Request: For the prompt list could you do number 1 from the angst/sad section and can it be reid speaking to cat? Maybe at her execution or him visiting her in prison or something? Thanks!

Cat Adams had one last request of Dr. Reid before her execution.

Warnings: Mentions of needles, mentions of death

Word Count: 6,014

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” 

He looked over the letter he had just received from the Mount Pleasant Women’s Correctional Facility one more time, both at the official announcement he had requested after his last meeting with her, along with a handwritten letter with the name “Spencie” written in wide, neat letters, signed at the bottom by none other than Cat Adams. 

He leaned forward on the round table as he looked it over again, glancing up at the door at the sound of a light knock.  He gave Jennifer a small, obviously forced smile, looking down at the flimsy notebook paper once again. 

“Everything okay, Spence?” she asked him in her motherly voice, knowing it was more of an impulse whenever she noticed him under duress.  His hands grasped onto the edges of the table until the bones in his knuckles pressed against the skin, burning them white.  He simply shook his head, some of his light brown curls falling down into his eyes. 

“Her execution is next Thursday.  She requested the lethal injection,” he told her, his hazel eyes scanning over her writing again to make sure he actually understood what she had asked of him.  Knowing her, however, made the entire letter feel more like a demand.  He slid the paper across the table to his friend, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes as he let out a groan.  The blonde woman picked up the paper, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she read what had been written to him.

“Spencie, 

I hope you haven’t missed me too much since our last date.  I know I left you probably missing me like crazy, but I’m sure you managed to control yourself without me around. 

They gave me the execution date, two weeks from today - two days before your birthday, if my math is correct.  Of course, by lethal injection.  I might as well shoot up once before I die, right? 

I managed to get my lawyer to work out a deal with the warden.  I didn’t want any special last meal - I’ll end up looking too bloated in my best dress when you bury me, and I can’t have you having that as your last image of me.  

I want one last date with the good doctor - you, of course. 

I figured you’d be at the execution anyway, but I wanted to make sure you got to say your last goodbyes to me before you lost me forever.  Now, whether you decide to bring me a Happy Meal or not is entirely up to you.  Whatever you need to set the mood.  Personally, I’d prefer something more classy for our last meeting, but it is up to the gentleman to bring it all together.  It’s just my job to look pretty. 

I can’t wait to see you again, Spencie.  I know you can’t wait to see me either.  Tell Maxine and Mommy Dearest I said hi! 

-Cat Adams xoxo”

She even went so far as to draw a little heart at the bottom of the page, with “S+C” written on the inside of it.  

“I have to go.”

“No, you don’t Spence,” she quickly assured him, folding the letter up before making her way around the table to talk to him.  She leaned herself against the edge of the table as she spoke to him, her hands folding together in her lap as she looked over at him.  He kept his focus on the execution notice in front of him.  

“She’s just trying to get into your head one last time.  It’s what she does.  If you go, she wins,” she tried to convince him.  He looked over at her after a few moments, pushing out a breath of air through his nose.  

“What if she’s planning something else?  What if she’s trying to hurt someone again and I’m the only one who has the ability to stop it?”  He asked, knowing that every time she wanted to speak to him someone was getting hurt.  He didn’t want to talk to her, he told himself, but he didn’t want anyone else to get hurt at the hands of Cat Adams.   JJ sighed out heavily as she listened to his concerns, knowing where he was coming from, but still not liking the idea of him being in the same room as her again. 

“I know it’s frustrating, but she doesn’t have a taunt about anything specific this time, besides you mom and Max, but we know that they’re both safe and will be.  I really just think she’s trying to get in your head.”

He tugged at the tightly knotted tie that clung to the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling as though he was being suffocated by his choice.  He paced around the room as he thought  through all of the possible situations and outcomes of what she could possibly do, but it was no use.  She was the one person that was always able to stump him.  She was by no means as smart as him, but she was by far one of the most clever people he’d ever come in contact with.  It was one of the handful of things he hated about her. 

“I don’t think I can take that chance, Jennifer,” he said softly, his feet finally coming to a stop in front of the large window overlooking the bullpen.  He watched as Tara and Luke talked at his desk, and Emily and Matt having their first cup of coffee in their little kitchen.  Emily had a stack of files under her arms, probably looking into a replacement for Rossi.  Kevin Lynch was currently covering for Garcia while they searched for her replacement, but he knew that a lot of the team would rather keep him on since they at least knew him.  He looked back to his best friend, her hands still laced together in her lap as she watched him, letting him make the decision for himself.

He couldn’t risk any of them getting hurt because he was too prideful to go face a woman that they had outsmarted three times before.  

JJ already knew that. 

-

After work on Thursday, he had called in a takeout order for an Italian restaurant that was on the way to the prison.  He figured he could at least play into her fantasy if she did have something planned.  It was probably the best way to protect everyone. 

He picked up the order and drove to the prison.  It was a silent drive, but his mind raced a mile a minute.  For the past week and a half, she had been stuck under his skin like a splinter, and he couldn’t wait to put it all behind him.  For five years now, she had followed him and his team, trying to break them down and beat them.  Today was the last time they’d ever need to think about her. 

He decided on going alone, mostly to minimize any possible damage she could try to inflict, and because he didn’t know what really was going to happen.  He had a habit of losing his temper around her, and he didn’t want to give her the benefit of the doubt by letting his team see the way she could affect him. 

Once he had parked his car in one of the available spots near the entrance, he turned off the car and sitting at the wheel, his eyes fixated on the sign in front of him, reminding him where he was.   He didn’t want to be here.  It was the absolute last place he wanted to be in the entire world.  But, of course, he worried what she would do if he didn’t show up.  

As the watch that clung onto his wrist showed the time of 7:45 PM, he gripped tightly onto the steering wheel and let out a heavy breath.  He thought for a brief moment, he should just turn around and go back home.  He should forget about all of this, forget about her, and let her execution play out the way it was supposed to.  

He pushed the car door open and grabbed the bag of food, locking the doors before he made his way to the front doors of the prison.  Upon entering, he flashed one of the guards his FBI badge, letting them know why he was there silently.  The guard nodded towards another in the little booth by the entrance, and the door pushed itself open.  

He led Spencer back through a dark hall of the building, the only sounds he could hear being his heavy steps and the heartbeat in his ear.  The hall seemed to drag on for miles, as if she was trying to make him walk as far as he possibly could to see how far he would go to see him.  He checked his watch as the guard unlocked the door he presumed she was behind, watching it barely hit 8:00 before he walked in. 

“Spencie!” 

Her voice was much too cheerful for what she was about to endure in four hours.  He half expected her to be wallowing, feeling bad for herself, or to try and start a riot to put it off even more.  

He realized she was really ready to die. 

She could tell, simply by his demeanor, he was ready as well. 

“Hello, Cat,” he said, walking further into the room as the guard pulled the door shut and locked it behind him.  He set the bag of food down on the table in front of her, though she paid no mind to it.  Her focus was primarily on him.  It made his stomach wrench. 

“Italian, my favorite!” she exclaimed, her gaze still on him as she pulled the plastic apart, grabbing the two to-go boxes before setting them on the metal table, each in front of one of the rusting metal chairs. 

“Have a seat.  You look like you’ve had a long day,” she coaxed with her infamous mischievous smile, opening her box before grabbing one of the small packages of silverware the restaurant had added in. 

He sat across from her, his hands folded neatly in his lap as she began to dig into the food, keeping up an act as if she was trying to be on her best behavior.  It didn’t last long. 

“Come on!  Eat!  You couldn’t have gotten all of this food just for me,” she said with a grin, twirling a bit of spaghetti around her fork as she spoke to him.  He silently opened his food and did the same, taking a bite of his dinner while keeping his eyes on her. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me why you’re here?” she pressed.  He imagined her waiting a little longer before beginning to taunt him.  He couldn’t blame her, though - she did only have four hours left to torture him as much as she could. 

“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready,” he said simply and emotionlessly, twisting the spaghetti around his fork.  He wanted to do his best to give her as little attention as possible, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it up for that long. 

She hummed a little bit at his answer, almost unsatisfied with it.  She almost didn’t respond to him, wanting him to actually ask her, but she knew she didn’t have that kind of time.  They both knew she didn’t. 

“I wanted you to make up for our last date.  It wasn’t exactly a girl’s dream evening, you know,” she quipped, trying to get a rise out of him, trying to get him to break his little charade and try to humor her.  She was going to be dead in three and a half hours, and then he could forget about her for the rest of his life.  He could be happy and not even remember her name.  But all she wanted was tonight. 

He held back from rolling his eyes at her answer, crossing his ankles under his seat as he continued to eat his meal quietly.  He wanted to hear everything she said, and he knew the only way was to lure it out of her with his silence.  The one thing she could hardly bear.  Of course, it worked.  A few quiet minutes passed as she ate, her eyes shifting over every inch of her date’s face, trying to profile him the way he had done to her since the first time they spoke. 

“Although, you really did surprise me with that kiss.  Did you ever kiss Maxine like that?” she questioned, grinning as she noticed his grip tightening on the plastic utensil.  It was the most she’d gotten out of him all evening. 

“Do you really care about how I am with her?  I thought tonight was all about you?” he asked, taking another bite of his food as he watched, waited for her next move.  

Talking with Cat Adams was like a game of chess - strategic, long, and a big waiting game.  It was her move, yet he was already four moves ahead, thinking of what he could do next to stay ahead of her. 

“Yes… no,” she said, rolling her eyes a bit as she slumped back in her seat.  She folded her arms across her chest, pushing the food away as she looked at him.  “At least you have the right idea.  It is all about me, so why don’t you act like it is?  You can make up for last time and then drop me off at home at the execution table.”  

He watched her body language, relaxing in the small room they had to themselves.  She noticed, leaning forward again so her elbows rested on the table.  “Come on, Spencie.  Just act like you’re on a date with her.”

He paused for a moment, doing his best to remain stoic as he watched her move.  Almost too slowly, like she was drawing each and every second out as if it would give her more time with him. 

He cleared his throat before closing his box and tossing it in the flimsy bag he had brought it in.  “How are you, Cat?”  She found the question rather humorous, considering she knew he’d probably been keeping tabs on her and her behavior since she had told him she was going to be put to death.  

“You can do better than that, Spencer,” she pressed on, her dark gaze flicking from his lips back up to his hazel eyes.  Once she realized he wasn’t moving on without her answer, she let out a soft huff.  “I’m doing great.  I’m dying in…” she grabbed his wrist and slipped his watch off, checking the time before looking back up at him.  “Three hours.  You wasted one hour trying to profile me, when you could’ve made it worth my while,”  she reminded him, wrapping the watch around her much smaller wrist. 

“What did you want me to talk about?” he asked, leaning back in his chair again, his hands laced together in his lap as he waited for her response. 

“Me, of course!” she said, throwing her hands up to bring more attention to herself, like the bright orange jumpsuit didn’t already have her sticking out like a sore thumb.  “Ask me about the baby, ask me why I wanted to have the lethal injection, talk about me.  I know you haven’t been able to get me out of that pretty little brain of yours.”

“I don’t think about you.  Quite honestly, I haven’t thought about you since our last date,” he lied to her, knowing she wouldn’t pick up on it as easily as he would be able to. 

He thought about her at least once a week.  He thought about her whenever he called his mother to talk about how she was doing.  He thought about her whenever Max kissed him last month when he got back from a case.  He thought about her when he bought a new watch, not wanting to wear something so plagued with her touch around every day.  He hated that she had become so prominent in his life, wanting nothing more to forget about her.  He pushed her to the back of his mind, but her maniacal grin always found his way back into his thoughts.  He would never say it aloud, but he couldn’t have been more relieved when he found out she was going to be executed.  He hoped it would bring him peace, finally getting some sort of justice for himself after all she had put him through. 

She gave him a playful frown.  She knew it wasn’t true, but she’d rather not waste her last hours arguing with him over what he would never admit.  She knew he would stand by that statement until midnight, as they plunged the lethal needle into her veins. 

“Why did you really want to see me, Cat?” he asked her just as she had opened his mouth.  Her lips broke into a smile, standing up from her seat before walking over to him, standing beside him and hoisting herself onto the metal table.  

“Do you really want to know the truth?”

“Did you hurt anyone this time?”

She smiled down at him, flattered he would think that of her.  She wanted to lie to him, make his blood pulse against every inch of his veins out of anger, but she knew it wouldn’t do either of them any good. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.  And I knew since you’d be here anyway to watch me die, I figured you could try to make me feel better about not ever being able to see you again,” she told him.  She truthfully didn’t have some big elaborate scheme planned out.  She thought about it, of course.  She even planned out a few ideas.  But somewhere deep in her gut, she wanted to have a good memory with him.  One where all of his focus was on her, not someone else he cared far more about. 

His eyes watched her check the time again, and she let out a hum.  9:17.   She’d been counting down the minutes all day.  She probably didn’t need to check the watch.  She did it for him.  She did it to remind him how little time she had left.  She hoped it would make him feel bad for putting her here, for having her next up on the execution block.  And it almost worked. 

“How do you expect me to make you feel better?  What do you want me to do?” he asked.  His mouth was pressed into a flat line, his eyebrows raised as he waited for a response.  She pretended to think for a moment as if she hadn’t planned out how the evening would go down to the last move she would make on him before he sat in an audience for her final performance. 

“Take me out on a walk.  In the yard.  The stars will be out, right?”  she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.  He nodded at her question, looking back to the window where a guard was more than likely watching over their every move.  The door unlocked and was pushed open, and Spencer stood up, holding out a hand for her.  He would play into every last move she set up for him at this point, mentally picturing his girlfriend to make everything easier.  

She laced her hand with his quickly, following behind him like a little school girl following her crush around the playground.  He only looked ahead as the guard led him down the hall again, two big red doors awaiting them at the end.  He felt her eyes burning into him, the bright flash of her white teeth catching on the light out of the corner of his eye.  She was enjoying herself, much more than she was supposed to be. 

“Did you really never think about me?” she asked as the guard pushed the door open, a gust of cold air washing over the two of them.  He looked around for a moment, looking up at the clear sky before his gaze landed down on her.  She looked at him, silently pleading for an answer. 

“Not until you sent me your letter,” he answered coldly, walking towards the benches that were scattered around the spacious area.  He sat down in the center, and she sat beside him.  Her eyes never left him, even when he was barely a shadow before the motion sensored lights kicked in and lit the area up like Times Square. 

“Why not?” she asked, her voice carrying the same tone as a pouting child.  He realized long ago that she might as well be a child, considering she always wanted it to be about her and she would do anything to keep it on her.  Which was why he was out in the cold 53° weather, with the last person he wanted to be with on October 26th. 

“Why, Spencer?” she pressed agitatedly, just wanting an answer out of him.  She knew it would be an answer she wouldn’t want, one that she’d be better off if she never heard what he had to say.  He didn’t have to worry about her feelings anymore, since she wouldn’t remember anything he ever said to her in two and a half hours.  

“Honestly? I can’t stand the thought of you.  I can’t help but think about every bad thing you’ve done, every victim you took, every person you put through hell just to get back at a man whose face you probably wouldn’t be able to pick out in a lineup.  You hurt people close to me just to see me, so pardon me for not exactly being thrilled about the idea of you.”

And, for the first time in her shortened life, Catherine Adams didn’t know what to say.

His words stung in her chest, like he reached into her and squeezed her heart until it couldn’t beat anymore.  But, she wasn’t capable of being hurt.  His words rang in her head that he always told her - “You’re incapable of having the same emotions as me.”  She never believed him when he said that to her, but that didn’t keep them out of her head.  It was one of the many things she could never stop thinking about, along with the way he looked when he met her for the first time and the way he kissed her outside his apartment a year ago.  

She stared up at him blankly, hiding any emotions she allegedly didn’t have as she watched him.  He never looked down at her when he spoke.  He stared straight ahead at the brick wall in front of him, and she figured he was counting each and every brick so he could ignore her. 

She laid her head on his shoulder as he stayed silent, not knowing what to say to him.  Nothing she could say would change the way he felt about her, and she figured it would be a waste of breath to try and convince him otherwise.  

She sat with him for an hour in silence, a single tear falling from her eyes, but she wiped it away before he could notice.  She was a psychopath.  She couldn’t have emotions.  He’d accuse her of faking it for sympathy, and the last thing she really wanted right now was to be lectured by Dr. Spencer Reid. 

He had noticed it, his focus turning to her the moment he noticed she was no longer paying attention to him.  He noted the way her breathing would speed up every few moments, and he couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts were running through her mind.  He wanted to know if she actually was ready for her fate, if she wanted everything to finally be over for her.  He wanted to know if she felt like she had done everything she wanted to, if she had a bucket list she was or wasn’t able to complete.  

He couldn’t find the words to ever ask her. 

“Spencer?”

“What?”

“Tell me about the stars.” 

He looked down at her, not noticing he had become lost in his own thoughts.  She was looking up at the sky now, her arm looped around his as she remained as close to him as he possibly could.  Her body was pressed to his, as if she was trying to stay behind with him.  He thought it was the least he could do, before looking up the clear night sky once again. 

For about half an hour, as the air chilled around them minute by minute, he told her about the constellations that they could see.  He talked about how the Zodiacs came to be pillars of Astrology and where superstitions about each star sign came from.  He told her anything he could remember about everything above them, until the guard came up to them. 

“They need her back inside, Dr. Reid,” he informed him.  Spencer looked down at Cat again, her gaze dropping from the spheres of gas millions of miles away to the man beside her.  She took in his features for the last time, committing every freckle, every eyelash, every wispy curl to memory before she stood up.  The guard placed the handcuffs around her wrists and tightened them, leading the two back into the prison and towards the back of the building, towards the execution chamber.  

The walk was long and silent.  Cat’s gaze focused on the end of the long hallway, staring straight ahead.  Spencer’s eyes locked on the three pairs of shoes that shuffled down the quiet hall, chewing on his tongue as he thought of the last thing he would say to her.  He thought about why he cared so much about it.  He wondered if she’d care if he even said anything to her. 

They had reached the chamber in a matter of minutes, stopping outside the door as Cat looked up at him.  The guard took off her handcuffs, letting her have a few more minutes of freedom before everything was taken from her.  Spencer could tell from the look in his eyes that this night wouldn’t leave his memory for a while. 

Cat slid the watch off of her wrist, taking his hand in hers before sliding it back to its rightful place.  Both of them stared down at the time. 11:52.  She had eight minutes left.  Eight minutes left of breath, eight minutes left of life. 

Eight minutes left of him. 

She looked up at him after watching the small arms on the watch tick around the circle, and his eyes followed her.  She gave him a soft smile.  It was genuine.  It physically hurt him to see it. 

“Did you mean it?” She asked him in a quiet voice.  She didn’t sound like herself.  If he thought she was capable, he would think she was scared.  He never answered her question.  He hated to lie, but he didn’t want to make her last moments any worse than they already were.  She simply nodded, looking down at her feet before back up at him.  

“Thank you.  For today,”  she admitted to him.  He treated her with the same amount of respect as he would have given a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe, but it had been the best memory she held with him.  She leaned up on the tips of her toes and swayed closer to him, pressing her lips to his scruffed cheek before returning to her normal height.  She stared at him for another moment before the door opened, and they were faced with the warden. 

“They’re ready for you, Miss Adams.”

The guard ushered her into the room slowly, and she stole one last glance before the heavy metal door closed behind her.  He let out a heavy breath he had held since he walked into the first room, looking up into the fluorescent lights for a moment.  This was the moment he’d been waiting for for five years, one he practically prayed to come quicker.  

He made his way around to the viewing area, noticing some of the family members of her victims - wives, parents, children.  People who have waited for justice longer than he had.  People who he helped grieve.  He weaved his way around the seats and towards the front, taking a seat at the center. 

He watched as they strapped her to a chair in the center of the room just on the other side of the glass, holding her in her place.  She almost looked as if she was at peace as they inserted the needle into the vein of her right arm, her head resting against the back of the chair as her eyes searched for something in the room across from her.  Once she had found what she was looking for, she let out a sigh, her eyes locking with Spencer’s for the last time. 

“Do you have any last words?” the warden asked, making his way to the large set up that displayed the chemicals that were soon to find home inside the girl strapped to the chair.  She simply swallowed and nodded, her hand gripping on the edge of the chairs arm as she watched Spencer. 

“I’m sorry,” she managed out after a moment.  He watched as her eyes welled with tears and she unapologetically let them fall on her round cheeks.  Right before the warden pressed the button that would send her to her final fate, she blurted out one last thing. 

“I really did love you, Spencie.”

His eyes didn’t leave her once she admitted her deathbed confession, but he could tell that her fate had officially been sealed.  He watched as her face slowly relaxed, her body slumped into the chair as any life she had drained from her eyes.  The recorder announced her time of death to be 12:02 AM, October 27th.  He let out a shaky breath as the blinds lowered, separating him and the families from her.  He heard quiet sobs let out around him, the families finally having a storm cloud that had been hovering them for years clear away.  One person, a father of one of her victims, he presumed, slowly clapped.  Everyone began filtering out of his room, but he didn’t move.  He couldn’t. 

He was escorted out by the warden at 12:15.  They walked quietly down the barren halls to the front of the building, Spencer’s hands digging into his pockets.  He thanked the warden for making a few exceptions, promising that he owed him before he made his way to his car.  He unlocked it and sat in the driver’s seat, but didn’t put the key in the ignition.  

He tugged on his tie roughly until the loop was wide enough to pull it over his head, throwing it into the passenger's seat with his leather messenger bag and his gun holster.  He held onto the steering wheel tightly as he rested his head against the steering wheel, taking long, deep breaths as he ran through the events of the evening once again.  

But her last words rang in his ears like a gunshot.  

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Emily’s number after a few minutes, hoping she would still be awake as the phone rang twice. 

“Spencer?  Is everything alright?” she asked, her tone laced with worry.  Her voice instantly helped release the tension that had built up over the past few hours, rubbing at his eyes tiredly with his large hand before leaning back in his seat.

“I think I need to take a sick day.”  He swallowed thickly again as he looked at the prison sign, his head falling  back against the headrest as he waited for her to respond.  She was silent for a minute, trying to pick up on his breathing and assess what was going through his head.  Of course she knew what this evening was, but she never got to talk to him about it before he left.  She didn’t really know what he was like going into the situation, which didn’t help her figure out how he was leaving it. 

“Of course, whatever you need,” she reassured him.  He let out a quiet sigh, nodding as he let his eyes close for a moment. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He let his eyes slowly open, looking to the center console between the two front seats, where her letter was opened and on display for him to reread quickly. 

“Her last words were that she loved me, Emily.”

It was dead silent on the other line.  He couldn’t even hear her breathing.  He pulled the phone from his ear for a moment just to make sure he hadn’t lost their connection before pressing it back to the spot it was before. 

“She was trying to get under your skin, Spencer.  You know that she was-”

“Incapable of emotions.  I know,” he cut her off, the heel of his hand digging into his eye as if it would clear everything up for him, explain why she said what she said, why she did what she did. 

“Go home.  Get some sleep.  We’ll all come visit you after work tomorrow.  Saturday, we’re all going to Rossi’s.  He wanted to host your birthday this year,” Emily told him.  He nodded again, practically forgetting what this weekend had even held for him and his friends.

“Alright.”

“Spencer?”

“Yes?”

“It’s all over.  You don’t have to worry about her anymore,” she reminded him.  Her voice of reason comforted him, wiping at his eyes with the sleeves of his button-up once he felt hot tears falling over his cheeks. 

“Thank you. Goodnight, Emily.”  He hung up the phone as soon as he pulled it away from his cheek, putting the keys in the ignition finally.  He listened to the engine roar to life before putting the car in reverse, pulling out of the parking lot before turning the car to the road, and finally heading home for the night. 

He couldn’t help but feel a little guilty.  He couldn’t be bothered to show her at least a little more kindness on her last living day.  He treated her the way he wished he could have after she took his mother, after she took Max’s family.  He didn’t even treat her as poorly as she had treated everyone else, yet he felt bad.  He felt bad because he wasn’t the same as her, he tried to tell himself.  He repeated it to himself on the long, quiet ride back to his apartment. 

I’m not like her. 

I’m not like her.

I’m not like her.

When he had pulled up to his apartment complex at 1:23 AM, parking the car in the spot he always parked in, turning off the ignition before gathering his things and heading into the towering building.  His feet trudged up the stairs as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb any of his neighbors at the ungodly hour.  

He unlocked this door before walking inside, hanging the keys on the hook once he closed the door.  He dropped everything down on his large leather couch, his body carrying him over to his bedroom.  He was too drained to even take off his tight slacks and the button-up that hugged his chest, crawling underneath the heavy duvet and resting his head against the feather pillows.  

He slowly let his eyes close in the comfortable darkness, falling into a deep sleep he felt he earned after the day he had.  But for at least a few more moments, before his body finally had been drained of every last drop of energy left in him, one thought kept his brain turning over and over.

If he hated the thought of her so much, why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?

[mamashitty]

I don't want to sleep in case you have to call

My fic for @jackzimmermannturns30! It has been a bit since I last wrote some Zimbits, so I feel a little rusty. Hope y’all enjoy it! 

Fic: I don't want to sleep in case you have to call Relationship: Eric “Bitty” Bittle/Jack Zimmermann Rating: General Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Summary: Jack had had sleepovers growing up. He had pointed that out to Shitty when his friend suggested this one. He had billeted with families in the past and he had lived in a frat house with Shitty for years! But Shitty had pointed out that living with other families, and then living in the hockey haus did not count.

“Brah, you are supposed to wear masks like this during a sleepover!” Shitty explained as he slathered more goo on his face, mustache and all. Jack tried to prevent the grin that was slowly crossing his face as he took in the sight of his friend, a friend whose face was now completely covered in goo, and failed miserably. Shitty held the container that held the goo out towards Jack, and from what Jack could tell from beneath all that green gunk, there was a pout and puppy dog eyes aimed at him.

“Fine! Okay! But, remember this sleepover is for my birthday, Shits. Don’t I get any say in what we do?” Jack asked, reaching for the container that held the gunk. Shitty gently smacked his hand away.

“Allow me to do the honors, beautiful birthday boy. And yes, you do get some say. But you have never had a proper fucking sleepover before. We are going to do this right. Pillow fight included,” Shitty explained, and then he began to slather green stuff on Jack’s face, and it was cool to the touch and smelled better than it looked.

Jack had had sleepovers growing up. He had pointed that out to Shitty when his friend suggested this one. He had billeted with families in the past and he had lived in a frat house with Shitty for years! But Shitty had pointed out that living with other families, and then living in the hockey haus did not count.

Jack also had to admit that he had missed sleeping with Shitty in the room nearest him. He missed waking up to find a hungover and mostly naked Shitty spooning him. They had both graduated back in May, and Jack had not fought too hard when Shitty suggested the sleepover. It would be a small thing. Just Shitty, Lardo, and one of Lardo’s new friends. Jack could do this.

You only turn 25 once, right?

“How long do we keep this stuff on for, Shitty?” Jack asked once Shitty finished and sat back.

“Like twenty or so minutes, brah,” Shitty said, and he wandered into Jack’s kitchen to set the timer on the oven.

Jack had been about to say something when his door opened and in walked Lardo, juggling what looked like a box of art supplies. Following closely behind her was a blonde man in the shortest pair of red shorts that Jack had ever seen. He quickly tore his gaze away from the man’s thighs, hoping no one noticed. Lardo was busy with her box of art supplies and calling for Shitty. The man with the shorts, Jack now noticed had a few pie containers in his hands.

“Lardo! Bitty!” Shitty exclaimed as he bounded out of the kitchen and instantly helped Lardo with her burden. Jack, realizing he ought to do something, moved to help the blonde man.

“Oh! You must be the birthday boy,” the man said as Jack took a pie from him. His voice was sweet like honey with a southern accent.

Suddenly, Jack was grateful for the green goo on his face. It definitely helped hide the red that blossomed on his cheeks.

“Euh, yeah. I’m Jack,” Jack introduced himself and awkwardly stuck a hand out.

“Eric, but most people call me Bitty.” He said, taking his hand. Jack felt some callouses as they shook hands.

“Bitty bakes the best fucking pies in the universe, Jack.” Shitty gushed.

“Oh,” Jack said, feeling dumbstruck.

---

It was midnight and Jack’s phone vibrated on his bedside table. He found himself grinning as he reached over to grab his phone. He knew who it was before he even looked at his phone.

Bitty: Happy birthday, Jack! :) :)

Jack: Thanks, Bits.

Bitty: I’m really bummed that I can’t make it tomorrow :(

Jack: It’s okay. You can miss one sleepover. Shitty won’t cry too hard about it.

Bitty: But you only turn thirty once! And our friendship only turns five once.

Jack: I know, and we will make it up. You can’t miss this opportunity, Bittle. Speaking of which, you should get to bed.

Jack: Put away whatever pie you are baking and get some sleep.

Bitty: I just wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday!

Bitty: And my pie is almost done.

Jack: You were the first.

Jack: Promise me you will get to sleep soon?

Bitty: I promise.

Jack: Goodnight, bud.

Bitty: Night! :)

If Jack reread that brief exchange of messages a few times, with a smile on his face, it really meant nothing. Over the past five years, Bitty had become one of Jack’s best friends. Only rivaled by Shitty and Lardo. Sure, he was disappointed that Bitty had to miss the sleepover tomorrow night but he knew they could celebrate together another day. Opportunities like the one Bitty had tomorrow did not come by very often.

Jack’s heart ached a little at missing his friend, but he was used to that ache when it came to Bittle.

With a sigh, he set his phone back down on the table, and then closed his eyes to get some sleep.

----

Jack’s face, clean of green goo, was now being pummelled with pillows from all sides. Shitty had suggested they start the pillow fight in Jack’s room, preferably on his bed, but Jack had put his foot down. Instead, they were in his living room, anything that could be broken had been safely placed out of pillow-thwapping distance.

Except for Jack’s face. That apparently was fair game.

Shitty had shed most of his clothes save for his boxers by this point. Everyone else was in pajamas and Jack really tried not to notice the shorts to Eric’s pajamas. Noticing that was what had led to his being hit by three different pillows at the same time.

He broke away from the fray and managed to whap Shitty upside the head.

“PENALTY SHOT!” Shitty shouted and Jack hoped his neighbors would not complain about the noise level.

“You just hit me in the head!” Jack pointed out.

“Yeah, well--...” but whatever Shitty was about to say was cut short by the sound of music playing loudly from Bitty’s phone. Bitty let out an excited little squeak, and dropped his pillow before scampering to pick up his phone.

“It is John, let me take this.” His cheeks were flushed and Jack wondered if it was from the exertion of the pillow fight or the man calling him. He watched as Eric walked down the hall towards the guest room.

“Who is John?” Jack asked just as Lardo hit him in the back of the head with a pillow.

“His boyfriend. They are long-distance,” Lardo explained, and then she was squealing as Shitty tackled her onto the couch.

“PENALTY!” She shouted while Jack tried to ignore the feeling of disappointment in his gut over Eric having a boyfriend.

---

“I can’t move,” Shitty groaned as he threw himself bodily onto Jack and the couch. Jack grunted but made no effort to shove the mustachioed man off of him. He missed Shitty cuddles. Adulthood was a strange beast. Hockey season always kept Jack busy and even in the off-season he had a lot going on with events and staying in shape. Shitty was busy and being a lawyer meant he had no real off-season.

“Aw, my heart.” Lardo had her phone out and Jack knew she was snapping a picture. “Bitty will love this.”

“I miss Bitty,” Shitty said, hugging Jack even tighter.

“Didn’t you just see him the other day?” Jack teased, even though he himself missed Bitty too.

Ever since his twenty-fifth birthday, it had become a thing for Bitty, Lardo, and Shitty to sleepover at Jack’s apartment on his birthday night. They would eat too much food, have pillow fights, try new facial masks, and fall asleep to bad horror movies. They always made time for it, and Jack really was disappointed that Bitty had had the out of town gig. But, they had managed to do this four years in a row without anyone missing, it was a good record, especially for busy adults. They could start afresh next year.

Jack disentangled himself from Shitty’s embrace to make room for Lardo, but she surprised him by plopping down on the chair nearest the couch. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I get Shits cuddles all the time. Enjoy,” she said, with a shrug.

“Jaaaaaack come back to me,” Shitty whined, and Jack rolled his eyes before settling back into a more comfortable position with his best friend. Lardo had the remote and she began flipping through the channels.

“Have you heard from Bitty yet?” Jack asked as he lazily began to play with Shitty’s hair. He was pretty sure that he heard a purr come from his friend. He also idly wondered what product Shitty was using in his hair these days. It felt nice.

“Nothing,” Lardo and Shits said at the same time.

“You both are getting too insync with one another,” Jack pointed out with a laugh.  

He tried not to worry too much about no one hearing from Eric most of the evening. He was probably exhausted after his day at work. He was just used to receiving more text messages from him. It was part of their routine. Eric sending him messages when he should be working, and Jack chirping him about it. He could feel that familiar ache in his heart when he thought of his friend.

Jack had always had something of a crush on the blonde from the first moment he saw him. Sometimes, Jack felt like the feelings he had for Eric were returned. But, they were a bit like ships passing in the night. One of them always seemed to have a partner. Jack had been single for over a year by this point, his last breakup happening just before his twenty-ninth birthday and Eric had been single for about six or so months. And Jack… well, he felt like their chirping these days was borderline more flirting than anything else.

And some large part of him had been hoping that he would be on this couch with Bitty tonight instead of Shitty, no offense. But, alas, it was not meant to be this year and Jack knew he had to get his head out of his ass. And focus on enjoying the time he had with Lardo and Shits. It was still special and maybe confessing his feelings towards Eric would be better done on a different day.

Lardo had finally settled on a movie and it was not long before Jack heard Shitty snoring.

----

It was quiet. Lardo and Shitty had fallen asleep curled up around each other on the couch. Jack had looked over at Eric, and through some silent agreement, they both stood up and went out to Jack’s balcony. The humidity from the day had died down some, and it was not so stifling hot out. Eric was seated on a chair across from Jack, nursing a cold glass of water.

“How did you meet Lardo?” Jack asked, his voice sounding almost too loud in the quiet air.

“We met at my job, actually. I work at the bakery near Samwell. I go to Samwell,” Eric said, looking a little shy all of a sudden. “I actually tried out for your hockey team, but didn’t make it. I was not sure how I was going to pay for Samwell because out of state tuition is expensive, but Mama, Coach, and Moomaw surprised me and scraped together what money they could. Loans are helping out of course, and my job…”

Eric continued to talk and Jack found himself wondering how nice it might have been if Eric had been on the hockey team. He looked like he might be speedy on the ice. He also looked like he kept in shape still, and Jack wondered about his workout routine for a moment. Wondered too about his diet given the fact he worked at a bakery and seemed to enjoy baking pies on his free time as well (and his pie really had been the fucking best in the universe).

“It’s a bummer you didn’t make the team,” Jack blurted out once Eric had finished talking.

Even in the dark Jack thought he could make out a flush on Eric’s cheeks, or maybe he was just reading embarrassment in the other man’s body language.

“Oh well, aren’t you sweet?  No, it is probably for the best that I didn’t make it. I’ve seen some of your games, and Lord do you boys hit hard. I’m not the greatest with contact.” Eric said, waving his hand. “But, I did find a rec league, so I do get some ice time still.”

A rec league?  Then maybe there was still a chance that Jack could see Eric playing hockey after all.

“Tell me about your team?” Jack asked, and Eric looked at him.

“Are you sure? It might get boring for you.”

“No, tell me. Please?” Jack said, and he found himself attempting to give puppy dog eyes like Shitty had done on him earlier. Eric laughed, and it sounded like music to Jack’s ears. He had to remind himself not to get so gone on the other man. He had to remember the name John was attached to a real person and that person was attached to Eric.

Eric filled the silent night with stories of his hockey team, and his co-workers from the bakery. Jack surprised himself by readily filling in any gaps in Eric’s talking with stories of his own. He could not remember the last time feeling so comfortable when meeting a new person. He enjoyed the way their conversation flowed, and how yes, silences did happen but they never felt uncomfortable. Jack never felt like the silences were just because he could not figure out how to talk. Words came to him easily, even though he did prefer it when Eric was doing the talking.

He surprised himself even further by asking Eric for his number.

It sounded like the boy would need help with French in the upcoming semester and it would have been rude of Jack to not offer his help.

---

Jack could not sleep. As was tradition, Lardo and Shitty had fallen asleep during the movie. Jack had disentangled himself from Shitty’s grip. He had then found a couple of spare blankets to cover his friends up. He left the television volume down low and made his way towards the kitchen. The stove clock read that it was a quarter to midnight. His birthday was almost over. Jack reached for his phone and frowned when he saw no messages from Bitty.

It was unusual for Bitty to go this long without texting. Jack had just opened up their messages when he heard his door opening. He did not feel panicked, though his heart had begun to race, he felt excited. His feet carried him towards the entryway.

And there was Bitty, trying to close the door as quietly as possible.

“Bits,” Jack said, quietly. Though he really doubted their friends would wake up even if he had spoken louder. His lips quirked into an amused smile when he saw Bitty jump. Startled, most likely, from the sound of his voice.

“Lord, Jack! You scared me. You need a damn bell. You move too quiet for a lug your size.” There was a softness to Eric’s voice, and his face, as he spoke.

Silence lapsed between the two of them as they just stared at each other for a few seconds and then Jack found himself breaking it.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, I finished earlier than I thought I would, so I decided to head here to see if I could make it to the sleepover. Seems like I missed all the action though,” but Bitty did not sound too upset at finding Shitty and Lardo asleep.

“I am glad you made it,” Jack said, softly. Then he reached for Eric’s hand, and Eric took it. He led Eric through the living room and out to the balcony. It was not the first time that they had held hands like this. It was not often they did, but sometimes, leading one another through crowds of people, it made sense to hold hands. Not that there was a crowd of people in his living room or anything, but Eric had not seemed to mind.

“This is just like the night we first met,” Eric said, once they were outside.

“Everyone asleep but us two, eh?”

“Out on the balcony,” Eric said, and he looked distracted. Like he had something on his mind. Jack noticed they had not let go of each other’s hands yet, and he gave Eric’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“What’s wrong, bud?”

“Trying to build up the courage to do something,” Bitty said, looking up at Jack but not quite making eye contact.

“Do what?” Jack asked. He wondered if he asked too quietly because Bitty said nothing, just continued to look at Jack.

“Happy Birthday, Jack. You’re my best friend in the world.” And then Bitty was closing the distance between them and Jack found himself moving without really thinking. Call it an instinct or something. They seemed to meet about halfway, and then they were kissing. Soft and sweet. Jack’s eyes fluttered close.

Then Eric was pulling away much too quickly and Jack found himself following those lips with a pout.

“Been wanting to do that for some time now,” Bitty said, with a breathy laugh. He was smiling, though. Looking happier than Jack had seen him in awhile.

Jack had a smile on his own face, he could feel it. He could also still feel the ghost of that first sweet kiss.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you,” Jack admitted. “You had on really short shorts.”

“Jack!” Bitty looked shocked, “did you really?”

“I did,” Jack said, nodding his head to emphasize the point. Then he gently tugged Eric against him for another kiss. This one a bit longer. When they broke apart from each other, they did not pull away too far.

“Boy am I glad you wanted me kissing you,” Bitty said, laughing again.

“Want to head inside before Shitty and Lardo wake up?” Jack asked, not that he minded kissing Bitty on the balcony. His bedroom seemed more comfortable though, and they would have a door to close that was not all glass. They could talk and kiss some more.

“Too late,” Bitty said, with a tiny groan as he pointed over Jack’s shoulder. Jack turned around to see Shitty and Lardo with their faces pressed against the glass of the door. Shitty was giving them thumbs up and cheering now that he had their attention. Lardo gave a thumbs up too, before she began to drag Shitty away from the window.

“Let’s give Lardo five minutes to get Shitty into bed and then we’ll go inside,” Jack suggested.

“Sounds like a plan, and I think I know what we can do for those five minutes.”

Bitty then crowded into Jack’s space and Jack had no complaints about that as they kissed once more.

[imagine-loki]

The Naughty Poltergeist

TITLE :The Naughty Poltergeist

CHAPTER: #1 of ?

AUTHOR'S: lokilover9 & velvetzybanshee

RATING: M

NOTES: This one shot is based on Loki having paid penance for ruining Thor's coronation. He never fell from the bifrost, nor attacked earth and is now free. Not to discount his true history, we just thought he deserved some happy. As for Felipe, he's based on the Spanish character Agador Spartacus, from the movie  The Birdcage and speaks in broken english. 

EXTRAS: Madre = mother  niña = girlfriend  panocha = pussy

Original Imagine  

Imagine thinking your new house is haunted. No one knows Loki lives there because he's always invisible and conjures furniture as needed. Disgruntled by your presence, he behaves like a poltergeist until one day you've had enough."I'm not leaving! Show yourself dammit!" Nothing happens for days and you think he's gone. Then while giving friends a tour, you find him naked on your bed drinking whiskey. "Cheers, darling. You did say show myself." Only you can see him and he follows you around like that for the remainder of their visit.

Loki was content residing on Midgard. With Thor King of Asgard remaining heavily influenced by Odin, he felt displaced as ever and decided to travel abroad. It was aloud providing he didn't hide from Heimdall and returned were the realm threatened, but that didn't mean he behaved. Midgard's continents teamed with beautiful maidens and Loki spent months at a time seducing them across the globe. Yet an introvert by nature, the constant socializing became exhausting. He needed intervals of solitude to rejuvenate his mind and cock. Indecisive of where, he conjured a world map, closed his eyes and randomly chose a location. 

First attempt. "A Frost Giant in the Amazon? I think not." 

Second. "Middle of the Bermuda Triangle? Know enough aliens already, thank you." 

Third. "Inside and active volcano? Fenrir's arsehole." He scoffed. 

Fourth. "Very well. Maine it is." 

The god settled in a vacant Victorian evicting its two following buyers with  'ghostly' shenanigans. Yet to the king of this miniature palace's annoyance the next didn't frighten so easily. 

Alexis was proud having bought her own house after a long divorce. Closer to friends and hours from meddling family, she'd thought herself free of troubles until sensing the place haunted. While unpacking, items started going missing and resurfacing in different places like her keys, clothing and once her vibrator after an evening of ménage à moi, disturbingly appeared in her dishwasher the next morning. Doors would slam, electricity short circuited, faucets unexpectedly ran, but most disconcerting was a voice randomly whispering 'mine' into her ear. Whether in the shower, her yard, doorways, the ghost didn't care. Alexis burned sage, had the house blessed, held a seance with a local paranormal group, but nothing helped. When returning after a long day at work to find half the main floor repacked, she angrily shouted into the air. 

"Ha ha, trickster! You don't scare me and I am 'not' leaving!" She held up a large envelope. "This is 'my' crib and here's the deed to prove it. Show yourself dammit!" Nothing happened so she put everything back, showered, grabbed her vibrator and stormed into the upstairs corridor. "And one more thing! See this? Touch it again and I'll summon your ass with a ouija board and douse you in holy water!" 

Loki inwardly chuckled. 'I'll be sure to bring a towel.' When she fell asleep reading in bed, he snuck a peek at what had intrigued her. 'Smutty fanfiction? Tisk, darling. Who could your heartthrob be? The name sounded familiar so he googled it. 'Ah, the actor from Crimson Peak. Good movie, but I'm much better looking. 'A wicked grin curled his lips when she moaned Tom's name. 'Maybe I need to play a little 'dirtier.'

With the next several days uneventful, Alexis thought she'd frightened the ghost off when in reality he was buying time. Since moving her in friends offered extra hands in their free time, but it was her befriended neighbor, a single gay man with a flamboyant, funloving personality who'd helped the most. They met one afternoon when she peered over his fence to complain about blaring Salsa music as he hosted a pool party. Felipe was sunbathing in a yellow thong, wearing sunglasses with enough bling to impress Liberace and choked on a shot of tequila when she whipped a pebble at his head. He invited her over with a promise to adorn shorts, they hit it off and became besties. 

Alexis planned to have other friends over for dinner one month after moving in, but with all the goings on had postponed twice. Now with a set date, Felipe was invited too and asked what she planned to cook.

"Who said anything about cooking? I suck at it Amigo and prefer no one hurling on my lawn." 

She waved a take out menu and he dramatically gasped. "Chinese food for eight people? Where you gonna put up you blow job booth to pay the mortgage after?"

Alexis smirked. "You're such a slut, Felipe."

He shrugged. "Happy whoopie stick makes a happy me."

"I think I've forgotten what they look like." 

"I show you mine, but no touchy touchy." She laughed, knowing he was kidding. "Too long without sex causes brain damage, niña. How long its been for you?" 

"Since my ex and I separated nineteen months ago."

"Ay dios mio. I lend you my Dustbuster for the cobwebs down there."

"Not funny, Felipe." 

"See. Abstinence makes everyone bitchy. My sister Maritza too. She was happy single before becoming a nun. Now she's Oscar the grouch with eyes like the chucky doll."

"How come you can pronounce words like 'abstinence' and 'cock' so well yet not others?" Alexis teased.

"Don't make me spank you. Come, we go shopping."

"For what?"

"I help you cook. We stay home and talk about cock, mine will curse me in Spanish. He's lonely too."

Alexis slipped on footwear. 

"Why you wearing those?" Asked Felipe.

"What's wrong with flip flops?" 

He stepped onto the porch. "You need something sexier, like bitch boots."

"It's ninety degrees in the shade today."

"So?"

Loki sighed when the door closed, relieved for some peace. He thought Felipe annoying enough as a neighbor yet worse as a guest who never stopped talking. So much so, he'd pondered concocting a tongue numbing spell, sneaking into his house and applying a heavy dose while he slept. But knowing his flair for drama, he'd run panicked to Alexis in the Boo from Monsters Inc. robe worn onto his deck every morning, carrying a note pleading to stay and until recovering, would hysterically sob each time he couldn't sing along to one of the show tunes on his phone. Loki opted to tolerate him for now. He'd be gone once Alexis left. 

The day of feasting came and while she handled finishing touches around the house, Felipe prepared guacamole dip and ingredients for fajitas while mixing margaritas. Hearing music, Alexis snuck to the kitchen and started recording him singing to Bad Girl, by Donna Summer while dancing like a hussy. 

"Toot toot, hey, beep beep

Toot toot, hey, beep beep

Hey mister, have you got a dime?

Hey mister, do you want to spend some time, ooh yeah

I got what you want, you got what I need

I’ll be your baby, come and spend it on me…"

He startled when noticing her.  "Girlfrien', you post that on social media, I kill you."

Alexis propped her phone on the counter and joined in wildly shaking her chest. 

Felipe tried the same. "No fair. I need big titties like yours to jiggle. Next time I bring tangerines and a bra."

Loki secretly watched on. 'Fucknuts.'

The three couples soon arrived. One, old neighbors of Alexis, Blake and Deidre, the others, her friends, Sage, Lisa and their newest flames Colby and Grant. She started a tour on the main floor then the upper leaving her bedroom for last. Excited to show it off, she was already opening the door as they shuffled out of the second.

"And this is my creme de la...eep!" She quietly squeaked once inside.

The resident spookster sat perched against her headboard sporting only what the Norn's delivered him to the universe in and winked pouring himself a whiskey. "You did say show myself, yes?"

She hurried out, slammed the door and her friends froze on approach. "Erm..wouldn't ya know I forgot to make my bed. Anyone for a drink?" 

Alexis passed them for the stairs and cringed when Deidre spoke. She was nice enough, but sometimes persistent when it wasn't welcome. "Nonsense, friends don't care. Right everyone?" 

Alexis continued down. "Enter at your risk then." 

Felipe watched her rush by into the pantry, close the door, followed and closed it too. "What you are doing?" 

"I can't go back out there."

"Why?" 

"He's upstairs naked on my bed." She anxiously whispered. 

"Which boyfriend? I take up the wooden spoon."

"No, the fucking ghost!" 

"It's a man? Is he hot and what do I tell your peeps? You afraid to come out of the closet?"

"Felipe!" 

"Sorry, it's the margaritas."

"I thought you the one person who believed my stories."

He eyed her sympathetically. "I do. You want I go bribe him to leave with a mcsqeezy?"

"Will you be serious? Ghosts aren't supposed to be naked. One look at him and everyone will think I invited them for an orgy." 

Blake and Grant came down first catching bits of their conversation and quietly conversed. 

"Can't believe she's still imagining this ghost." Blake wise cracked. "I always told Deidre she had a screw loose."

"Nah." Said Grant. "Lexi's a smart cookie. Sounds more like she needs a man. There's one inside with her. Maybe they'll shag, knock some shit off shelves." 

Felipe stuck his head out the door. "You not so quiet, cumquats. I gay. You want I show you my jolly green giant and shag 'you' inside against the creamed corn?"

Loki rubbed the back of his neck. 'I sacrificed prowling beaches of the French Riviera for this?'

Hearing the ladies coming, Alexis approached Blake and quietly inquired. "Still peeing in your wife's pond at night, murdering her koy? I'd see you through my bedroom blinds. Who's a few cans short of a six pack?" 

"Oooh snap." Said Felipe. 

Grant nudged the arse. "Let's chill in the dining room. There's a makeshift bar and appetizers."

The ladies entered the kitchen. "Who's a nincompoop?" Asked Deidre.

Felipe almost answered but pursed his lips together when Alexis loudly cleared her throat. "You know, just my ex."

"He sure is, honey." 

"Your bed's made, girl." Said Sage. "The room looks great." 

They all agreed passing through while thirty year old Lisa's younger boyfriend lingered. "Pretty awesome digs ya got here."

"Thanks." Replied Alexis.

Colby slid his hands into his pockets. "Soo..Lisa says you think it's haunted."

"Yep."

He spaced out for a second, staring at the floor. "I once thought a bat in our house was my dead uncle Howie haunting my parents for selling his mannequin of Vlad the Impaler. But hey, sometimes weird shit happens when you're stoned right?" Alexis and Felipe were saved when Lisa called him. "She misses me already. Laters." 

"He looks fresh from his madres panocha." Commented Felipe.

"That's the way Lisa likes them. Says the younger they are, the easier it is to train them."

Loki rolled his eyes. 'Age is irrelevant.'

Felipe feigned fright by playfully biting his nails. "She bad. Maybe Colby wear a leash and bark like a good doggy for her?" He goofily imitated one in a deep voice. "Woof, woof..woof. Or maybe he sound like an angry chihuahua?"

Alexis smirked. "I have my own problems. A streaking phantom who now makes unexpected appearances."

Felipe gave her a margarita. "Cheers. These make everything better." 

Alexis gulped down the beverage as he watched with raised brows. "Thanks. Next time that streaker appears, I'll just ignore him."

"Next time I give you smaller glass. Go enjoy you friends, niña"

She gave a thumbs up on her way out. "I got this. Easy peasy right?"

Loki mischievously grinned. 'Darling, I'm just getting started.

[nat-roman0ff]

your three favorite shawns / 1

sleepy shawn part 1 of 3

when shawn returns from tour, a grilled cheese and a shower is all he needs to feel at home.

wc: 1531

warnings: partial nudity, carbs, and excessive amounts of yawning.

 There’s a deafening stillness in the condo. 

 The pressure from the silence makes it feel like you’re underwater somehow. There’s a gentle ringing in there somewhere, and it’s just so fucking quiet you feel like you’re on another planet instead of cozied up with your boyfriend on the couch. It’s his first day home from tour and his body is in a different timezone so he’s done his usual thing of sleeping until he wakes up at a normal time. Sometimes it was two hours, sometimes it was sixteen. Currently, you were rounding hour seven and your left leg had gone numb somewhere after hour five. 

Lights from the Christmas tree (that Shawn insisted needed to be put up November first) are the only thing lighting the room. The tv had been on but muted, and you had been stuck watching Harry Potter with subtitles all day. Shawn’s breath is light against your skin as he breathes steadily in and out, both of his arms wrapped around your middle. 

 You suppose if you didn’t have to pee so bad you could’ve made it another hour or so before you had to wake him up to move, “babe,” you whisper, gently nudging your shoulder against his iron grasp. 

 This only causes him to instinctively hold you tighter and grumble incoherently into your ear.

 “Too early,” he mumbles.

 “It’s ten-thirty at night,” you respond.

 “Too late.”

 “I have to pee, Shawn.” 

 He loosens his grip on you enough for you to wiggle out. You’d been pressed together for so long that the coolness of the room hits you hard when you’re out from underneath the blankets. 

 Your (numb) legs move quickly, running on your tiptoes against the cold wood floors. When you return to Shawn, he’s sitting up, hair sprouting up in seventeen different directions and staring off into the void of the living room. 

 He looks positively adorable, sad, relieved and exhausted all at once, “oh, bub,” you say, dropping to the couch and straddling his lap. 

 Shawn buries his face in your chest, wrapping his arms around you, “I’m so tired,” he groans and you can hear it all in his voice. 

 This last tour had really kicked his ass; on the road for almost a full year with barely any breaks, at least none long enough to catch his fucking breath for a little while. It was all starting to wear him down and you were glad it ended when it did. Now, with the holidays and New Year approaching, it was time for him to finally relax.

 “I know, baby,” you coo, threading your fingers through his hair to scratch at his scalp the way he likes, “we can go to bed soon, but you should probably at least eat and take a shower, hmm?” 

 He nods and lifts his head up, bumping his nose against yours, “I love you.” 

 You smile and give him a quick kiss, “I love you too. Now, what would you like to eat?” 

 Shawn grins widely and with a yawn, “grilled cheeeeeese.” 

 —-

 “No falling asleep yet!” You yell from the kitchen, flipping the sandwiches in the pan. 

 Shawn groans, “not sleeping, just resting my eyes.” 

 “I heard you snoring!” You pip.

 “I farted.” 

 You laugh and roll your eyes, slipping each sandwich onto a plate. Shawn puts the blanket back over you and dives into his food, moaning and eyes rolling towards the back of his head. 

 “There is something about the pure simplicity of bread, cheese and butter that is just so...absolutely fantastic,” he says, scarfing down his grilled cheese quicker than you.

 “Just like...pure fat and carbs, man. And maybe made with a teeny bit of love,” you say, giving him a crumby peck on the cheek. 

 Shawn grins, mouth full of food, “I fucking love grilled cheese, and I fucking love you. And I reckon that if I blink any more I’m going to fall asleep. What day is it?” 

 You do your best to stifle your laughter. While you feel terribly, Overtired Shawn is one of your top three favorite Shawns (right after Horny and Hockey, respectively). When he finishes his food he runs his fingers through his hair and slaps his face a couple times for good measure before standing up. 

 “I’ll go get the shower started. Meet me there in five?” He asks. 

 “I’ll do one better and meet you in three,” you wink. 

 He smirks and walks backwards towards the hallway but not without stumbling over the corner of the area rug first. You finish your sandwich quickly and take care of the dishes before tiptoeing up the hallway to the bathroom. You can hear the water beating against the glassed in shower stall and poke your head in to see a half naked Shawn fumbling with his travel toiletry bag.

 “The zipper is stuck and I just need my razor,” he groans, tugging at the pull tab.

 He’s skinnier than when he left, he always loses weight on tour. The wild hours and late nights means missed meals, but a few weeks back at home, and a few of his mum’s Sunday Roasts and he’s back to normal again. You meet him at the vanity, biting your lip and letting your eyes soak him in. 

 “I am a human being not a piece of meat. Also, you’re late. Four minutes, tsk tsk.” he smirks at you, then yawns sheepishly.

 You run your palm from his chest down his stomach, eventually stopping at the waistband of his sweatpants, “I can make it up to you?” 

 He kisses you, his lips curling up into a smile against yours before pulling away, “if I’m tired, that means my dick is non-functional. Do you remember after the Grammys?” 

 “Unfortunately.” 

 Shawn bites into your arm, “another time, love. Then you can have me ten ways from Sunday.”

 You raise an eyebrow, “tempting, now strip. You smell like an airplane toilet.”

 He obliges, and the both of you step into the steaming shower. You let Shawn go first, trying not to stare too hard as the water ripples down his neck and chest, down his stomach…

 “Can you wash my hair with your shampoo? That coconut-y one?” He asks, snapping you back. 

 You smile,“of course.” 

 Being that he’s so much taller, you make Shawn tip his head back to shampoo his hair, letting your fingers and nails scratch at his scalp and thread through his locks. He sighs happy sighs and you watch as the muscles in his body systematically relax one by one. 

 He’s home.

 “Your turn,” Shawn says when he’s done rising his hair. 

 While he’s not quite as graceful, it’s a soft gesture, and he takes care to be gentle against the snags in your hair, working them out slowly with his fingertips. There is no more perfect place on the planet than here at this moment.

 When you’re both done washing yourselves, you reach for the shower knob and Shawn stops you, “can we just stay here a bit?” He asks .

 You nod, “of course, bub.” 

 Shawn pulls you against him, letting the hot water hit your back. It’s the most beautiful moment because it’s so damn simple and so damn quiet. All you hear is the melodic rhythm of Shawn’s beating heart against your ear and the water tapping against the glass shower door.

 “Are you ready for bed yet?” He asks with a big yawn.

 This time he lets you turn off the water.

 —-

 You both settle into bed and it’s an instant relief for Shawn. He can never quite put a finger on how fucking good it feels to come home to his own bed and feel his body melt into the mattress. Of course, having you there to hold is just an added bonus.

 Shawn cuddles up behind you, slipping his hand under your shirt and resting it on your stomach, “I thought your dick was non-functional?” You say.

 “Oh it is, this is just..comforting? Can I hold your boob?”

 You snort, “sure.” 

 He nuzzles his nose against the back of your neck and moves his hand to cup your breast. It’s incredibly gentle, and if he hadn’t said anything you probably wouldn’t have noticed. 

 “This is nice, they’re very warm,” he mumbles, and you can tell by the distance in his voice that he’s already half asleep.

 The room is quiet except for Shawn’s breathing and you settle into a comfortable spot in his arms. You know within the hour you’ll both be sprawled on opposite sides of the bed, but he preferred to, at the very least, fall asleep together. 

 “Hey Shawn?” He lets out a low grumble in response, “I missed you and I’m happy you’re home.” 

 He shifts behind you, kissing your shoulder, “love and missed you too. Now shut up and go to sleep.” 

 You snort, “goodnight sleepy butt.” 

 Shawn’s reply is a deep snore, and you can tell by the way his grip loosens that he’s out for good. His little snores fill the room and there’s no better sound, and no better feeling than your home being full once again.

[crewhonk]

Only Happy Accidents (two)

Summary: After being ghosted by YN, a girl he turned out really liking, Steve goes to her door to find out just what he did wrong.

Warnings: pregnancy test stress, gross food cravings, NatBucky fluff, stressed!Steve

Songs: “Archer”- Taylor Swift

Masterlist

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November 14th / 2nd Week

YN YLN felt like someone came down from heaven and took a shit on her face. She had felt wonderful since Steve had been over up until now, and she groaned, burying her face into her pillow and trying t find any lingering scents of Steve on her pillow. She made a noise in the back of her throat when she found nothing but the scent of her own shampoo. She reached over to her phone under her pillow and looked at it, a thrill shooting through her body when she saw that she had a text from none other than the Retired Captain America. 

From: Grandpa

Morning, pretty thing :)

The dork hadn’t sent her one single emoji, and she doubted that if he even knew what they were that he would like them. ‘too kiddish’, she could hear him say and she kicked her feet like a teenager. 

To: Grandpa

Morning, handsome! How was ur morning so far??

She locked her phone and checked the date on the lockscreen, squinting at the number suspiciously. There was something supposed to be happening right now. Today was a Thursday, so she had it off, but there was something else personally. 

Her eyes widened, and every nerve in her body felt as if it had been dipped in ice water. 

She was supposed to have gotten her period eight whole days ago. 

She ripped her blankets off of her, and pulled her pants down, groaning when there was no blood to be found and cursing to herself. She had always been regular with her cycle. She tracked it, and took vitamins and magnesium and iron supplements and even went sustainable with it— got a diva cup and everything. Sure, her period sucked but it was usually one thing that she could count on to be on time. 

She rushed to the bathroom to splash water on her face and wracked her brain to try to remember if she and Steve had used protection. They had in the morning, she knew— she made sure to roll the condom on herself and everything but the night before was so quick and hurried and oh, God. No. No they had not used protection. 

Fuck. 

“MICHAELA!” She screamed, walking quickly out to the kitchen where her best friend and roommate was, hunched over some law books and eating her smoothie bowl breakfast. YN didn’t even bother teasing her about it and met Michaela’s surprised eyes with her own very, very scared ones. 

“What? Are you bleeding out? What the fuck?” She yelled back, clutching her heart while moving to mop up the glass of water she spilled across the island. 

“No I’m— okay, so you know the guy I had over on Halloween that I told you about?” She started and Michaela nodded nervously. 

“Magic Dick Steve? I remember.”

“Well I don’t think— I don’t think we used protection? The first time? We were both pretty drunk and—“ YN had started to shake. “And I might be reading into it too much but I’ve been really tired lately and my boobs are really, really sore and I’ve been really nauseous? Maybe It’s the flu but I’ve— my period it late.” She finished, and watched as Michaela’s eyes widened. 

“You’re never late.” She whispered, and YN felt tears well up in her eyes. 

“I know.” She mumbled and Michaela stood, walking around the counter and pulling her to her. She hugged her tightly and pulled away, dragging YN down the hallway and back to the bathroom. 

“I didn’t tell you this, but a few months ago when you were in Peru with that Anthropology dig, me and Charlie had a scare and I got a whole bunch of these guys.” She held up a box of thin, paper pregnancy tests from the bottom cabinet. 

“Isn’t that when you went off your pill?” She asked, taking the box. Michaela nodded. 

“Yeah, turns out my body freaked out hugely and said ‘fuck you’ to my period that month.” She shrugged. “Take a few, and we’ll take it from here, okay?”

________________________

So, YN peed in a disposable mouthwash cup (and on her hand a little bit, but we won’t talk about that) and dipped three tests into it, laying it out on the edge of the tub and sliding down he closed door after setting a timer on her phone. Time seemed to become impossibly slow for three whole minutes and she jolted violently when her phone went off. She checked it, and tears welled up in her eyes when she saw that she had gotten a text from Steve. 

From: Grandpa

I’m pretty good. miss you though.

She put her phone back down and stood, opening the door and calling shakily from Michaela. She showed up seconds later, and wiped YN’s tears from her face. 

“I can’t— I can’t look.” She whimpered and Michaela shushed her softly. 

“You can.” Her voice acted as an anchor for which YN could ground herself with and she tried to move her feet towards the tests. 

“What do I do with Steve? I can’t— it would trap him. I don’t even know the guy. I can’t just drop a bomb like that on him when we haven’t even gone on a date yet.” She cried and Michaela frowned, her heart breaking for her friend. 

“From what you’ve told me, he’ll be there for you. He seems like a good guy. Now, let’s look, okay?”

YN nodded and with the help of Michaela, walked across the bathroom and ducked down to see if there was anything other than the first red line. She squinted, and let out a huge breath when there was no line on the first two tests. She checked the last one, and every organ in YN’s body burst into flames when she thought she could see a second, very faint line. 

“Michaela.”

“What.”

“Is that a second line? On the last test.” She whispered, as if raising her voice any louder was going to make the line darker. Michaela leaned in close and squinted, freezing when she did, in fact, see the second line. 

“I think so. I think it is.” She confirmed, and YN’s knees gave out. Her hand absently fell to her lower stomach and she lower lip trembled. 

“This may not be it, though okay? Let’s go to Planned Parenthood and get a real test, okay? Then we can spend thirty dollars on a really good test and we’ll make a plan from there, okay?” Michaela sunk other knees and held YN’s face, wiping more tears away and offering her a small smile. 

“Okay.”

_______________________

There was no way that all ten tests in front of her were wrong. There was no way the printed diagnosis from Planned Parenthood and a pamphlet reading ‘Plans For The Single Parent’ were telling her that her uterus was empty. There was no way the Clearblue test reading ‘Pregnant: 2-3 weeks’ was wrong— it better not be, considering it was a whole thirty dollars. 

YN sat staring at them, bouncing her leg and glancing at her phone every few seconds, half expecting for Steve to already know despite his three unresponded-to-texts still on her lock screen. She could hear Michaela talking to her boyfriend, Charlie in the other room and YN felt truly and utterly alone.

However, her hand had yet to leave her stomach during the whole day, as if the idea of a baby being in there (despite it being no more than a bunch of cells at this point) was a point fo focus for her. Despite the overwhelming elements fo her situation, there was a flutter of excitement in her chest. She had never wanted kids, and then the snap happened, and she was gone and then she was back, and her dad, who was in a plane during the snap had fallen from 5 miles in sky and landed belly first in the ocean. But now that it was a very real possibility, she couldn’t help but get a little excited. 

There was one one person she truly wanted to talk to, right now. The urge to hear their voice overpowered any other feeling and YN reached for her phone, choosing the first contact she recently texted and waited as the phone rang. 

“Hello?”

“Mom? I need your help.”

_______________________

November 31st, 4th Week

“This is probably the grossest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Why are you making this monstrosity in my house?” Michaela groaned, pulling the neck of her turtleneck sweater over her nose as she walked into the kitchen. YN rolled her eyes and shook her head, bouncing lightly to the music playing from her laptop. 

“Just because you’re the pickiest human in the world doesn’t mean other people can’t eat fun foods,” YN replied, lifting the lid on the stove and sniffing deeply. 

“Canned crab with sauerkraut on crackers is not a fun food.” Michaela grumbled and sat at the counter. YN rolled her eyes and stirred the pot, shrugging her shoulders. 

“What baby wants baby gets.” She replied simply and closed the lid, leaning against the counter beside the stove and cocking her head. “Would you prefer boiled clams in hot sauce  or crushed up Doritos dipped in a Starbucks Frappuccino to this or—?” YN trailed off and Michaela gagged openly, covering her mouth. 

“Maybe a salad. With nutrients that the baby needs.” She replied and YN rolled her eyes, opening the cabinet beside the fridge and turning around to stare at Michaela. Her eyes raked over the prenatal supplements and vitamins marked for different days of the weeks and then to the daily pill organizer in YN’s hand. 

“I’ve also cut my coffee from five cups to half a cup because I’m paranoid and I’m not eating dairy, which is hard because you know how much I loved pineapple and cottage cheese together. And this is the only meal I’ve been able to eat this week without getting nauseous and throwing up.” She commented, turning back and turning off the stove. Michaela walked over and leaned over the pot, wrinkling her nose but grabbing a spoon nonetheless. 

“I’m going to try it. Not because I’m curious but because I’m supporting my single-pregnant best friend.” She said, saying a little prayer and shoving the goopy mess into her mouth. She froze, chewed once and gagged, grabbing YN’s hand and spitting the mouthful of food into her hand. 

“I hate you.” She grumbled and stuck her head under the sink, rinsing her mouth and making her laugh loudly, clutching her chest. It was only seconds after that there was a knock on their door which YN made to get. She turned to her friend and pointed. 

“I made you do nothing. That was fully consensual on your part.” She laughed, spinning and opening the door with a smile. 

It was Steve. Holding a bouquet of her second favourite flowers. Smiling nervously with those blue eyes and big muscles and beard and short, carefully styled hair. She remembered in flashes the sound he made when he moaned. The sound he made when she made him laugh. The way he looked sucking whipped cream off her finger. The way his voice sounded that one time when they talked until five in the morning. 

So, she did what any sensible person did and slammed the door in his face. 

At the sound, Michaela walked around the corner, peeking behind YN to see that the door was still closed. There was a knock and Steve’s voice saying something YN couldn’t hear over the blood rushing in her ears. 

“Who is it?” Michaela whispered, seeing the fear in her eyes. 

“Steve.” YN replied, her mouth feeling as if it was stuffed with cotton. Michaela pushed past her and looked through the peep hole, ducking immediately and turning to her with wide eyes. 

“That’s Steve?! You fucked Captain America on our kitchen counter and then hand fed him waffles?” Michaela whisper-yelled. 

“First off, he’s not Captain America anymore. Sam Wilson is, and second yes. Steve isn’t really an uncommon name so..” YN trailed off uselessly and Michaela looked to YN’s stomach. 

“Well I mean it makes sense,” Michaela said quickly. “All of your symptoms are stronger and you only had sex once without protection so it makes sense he has super sperm.” He said and YN shushed her as if Steve was on the other side with his ear to the door. 

“What do I do.” YN deadpanned and Michaela bit her lip. 

“You know what I think you should do. I think it’s time to tell him.” She said and YN nodded, wiping her hands on her pants and walking to the door, hesitating briefly before turning the doorknob and opening it. 

“YN. Hi.” He seemed breathless, and he looked at her softly. “Are you okay? I’m sorry I should have texted, but you weren’t responding and I got worried.”

YN shook her head and opened the door wider. “Steve, I think you should come in. We need to talk.” She whispered, and his shoulders fell as if he was expecting her to say something like this. 

“I figured.” He mumbled, handing Michaela the flowers and following YN to the living room where she pulled a shoe box from the shelf under the table and placed it on the top. 

“What’s going on, YN? Did I do something wrong?” He asked, turning towards her. She sat straight, not taking her eyes off the box in front of her and shaking her head. 

“You’ve been perfect Steve, and none of this is your fault, I should have been more responsible.” She whispered, her throat thick. She could hear Michaela eavesdropping from the kitchen. 

“Then what—?” He trailed off and went to touch her, but pulled away at the last second, not wanting to upset her further. 

“Something happened and I don’t— I don’t know what to do.” She said, finally looking at him with shining eyes. His face crumpled at the sight of her tears and h scooted closer to her, grabbing her hand gently. 

“I can help, YN. Whatever it is I can help you.” He said softly, holding her hand in both of his own. 

“I couldn’t ask that of you, Steve. Not with this— we hardly know each other.” She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. She noticed briefly how good Steve looked in his brown coat and jeans and scarf and boots but shook her head when her periphery caught sight of the box on the table. 

“YN.” He said sternly and she melted slightly, squeezing her eyes shut. 

“I’m pregnant, Steve. The baby is yours— it has to be. There hasn’t been anyone since the snap except for you.” She finally said in one quick breath, she looked up at him to gauge his reaction. His face was a flat of marble, no expression or emotion in his eye. She half expected him to stand up and walk out until she remembered that this was, in fact, Steve Rogers and walking away from a challenge was unheard of. That’s what the textbooks said, anyways. She lifted the cover on the box and he peered in, eyes widening when he saw all the tests and pamphlets she had been reading and collecting. 

“Okay.” He said finally and he seems to be wracking his brain for something to say. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Were you just going to wait until you had him to tell me and collect money or something?” He asked. YN raised her eyebrows and shook her head fervently. 

“No, no, no, no, Steve. I would never. I just didn’t— I don’t— know what to do.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, reassuring her by his tightened grip on her hand. 

“I wasn’t sure how to tell you and what you would want to do with her.” She said and he raised his eyebrows. 

“It’s a girl?” He whispered, looking down to her stomach. She shook her head. 

“No, she’s nothing more than a bunch of cells, but ‘she’ just comes naturally to me? You said she was a ‘he’ earlier, so.” She smiled softly and he returned it, not looking away from her stomach. 

“Well, what are the options?” He asked, looking up at her and she shook her head. 

“One, I keep her and you leave.” She started and he looked genuinely affronted. 

“Not a chance. Next.”

“I go to Planned Parenthood—“

“No. Next.”

“I keep her, and you stay.” She whispered, looking up at him nervously. He froze, but nodded surely and cleared his throat. When he spoke he sounded rather choked and it made tears return o her eyes. 

“That’s an option for you?” He whispered and she nodded. 

“It’s my ideal option, Steve. This is your baby too.” She replied, equally quiet. He looked up and pulled her closer to him and she let it happen. Now, their thighs were pressed against the other and their heads were closer together. 

“You move into my place, though. I’ll get rid of my office so we can make it into a nursery and I keep work at work and family at home. I’d like to know you’re both safe.” He said, jumping to what he wanted to happen. She nodded. 

“That’s petty reasonable.” She commented. “I don’t have much, so it shouldn’t be a big deal.” 

“Your turn. Name a demand.” He returned and she wracked her brain. 

“I want to go part-time at work, but I won’t if we can’t afford it.” She said. Thinking about the cost of things came naturally to her since she had grown up in the Bronx.

“Babe.” He whispered, amused and smiling. 

“What?” She whispered back, smiling as well. 

“I have about 100 years of government compensation in my bank account. Plus I was a Stark Employee and an Avenger for twelve years. Money isn’t an issue, I promise.” He explained, and she nodded. The relief that had washed over her then was overwhelming and she coughed into her fist, a sob building in her throat. 

“Sorry,” She choked, rubbing her eyes. “This happens a lot.” 

“It does!” They heard a voice from the kitchen and YN glared a the door. 

“Fuck you, Michaela!”

“Promise?” She called back and Steve smiled, chuckling lowly. 

“Your turn.” She said, nudging him. He sucked in a breath and thought hard. 

“I’m at all the appointments. I’m at all the classes. We don’t announce it to the public, but we don’t hide the fact that you’re pregnant. I’ll have to talk to Pepper soon, but only when you’re ready. I want to be in this with you. The whole ride.” He said and YN blinked more tears out of her eyes. He pulled his jacket off and pulled his sweater sleeve over his fist and wiped them from her face gently. She sucked in a breath and leaned into his touch slightly, not fighting it when he pulled away from her. 

“Good.” There was a pause of silence before he shifted nervously, a new idea popping into his head. “What?” She asked. 

“This is gonna be a little extreme, actually.” He sounded afraid, but she nodded for him to continue despite her own nerves rising. “I’ve been learning that it’s okay to have kids with your boyfriend or girlfriend now, and that’s really great and cool but it doesn’t work for me.” He said and she looked up at him, alarmed. 

“What?”

“We don’t have to, but my Ma would roll in her grave if she found out I had a kid with someone that I wasn’t uh— legally bound to.” He winced at the formality of his own words. 

“I don’t think I understand,” She said. She did, she just didn’t quite believe what exactly he was asking her. 

“I would like to marry you. It’s really important for me that my kid is uh— mine. And was born into a marriage, you know?” Steve’s voice seemed far away as he continued to speak, and YN swayed in her seat. 

“YN?” He asked, watching her eyes become unfocussed and falling for Michaela. She heard nothing more before her eyes closed and she slumped back on the couch, unconscious. 

________________________

The first thing YN remembered when she woke up was a cool cloth being pressed to her forehead. She sighed at the sensation, rolling her head away from the glaring light from the window and opened her eyes, smiling as Michaela looked down at her. 

“Hey, Mich. I had the weirdest dream.” She started, groaning a the pounding headache in her brain and sitting up slowly. “Remember Steve? Magic Dick Steve? Yeah. That’s Steve Rogers. Anyways, I had a dream that I was pregnant with his kid and he asked me to marry him. He was wearing his suit, though which as weird because I couldn’t see his face behind his helmet-hat-thing.” She mumbled, rubbing her forehead. 

“That wasn’t a dream, YN.” Said a low voice from the kitchen. YN looked over and her eyes widened when she saw Steve Rogers walk through the door, a plate of crackers and crab and sauerkraut in his hands. There was also a reusable mouthwash cup filled with her medication and a bottle of water in his other hand. 

“Holy Moses, baby Jesus in the garden be with me.” YN prayed briefly and accepted the plate of food from him, piling it into her mouth much to the amusement of Steve and the disgust of Michaela. 

“It’s the same thing my ma used to crave, actually.” Steve shrugged. “I tried to make it one time back in the day for mothers day but the only fish I could afford was the crawdaddies from the pond down the street and the crackers I stole from Bucky’s house. I couldn’t even use the stove, yet so everything was raw.” He smiled when she laughed loudly at his story. “Yeah, she wasn’t too big of a fan but she appreciated it all the same.” 

“That’s really cute, Rogers.” She smiled.

“I’m sorry for dropping that request on you, I never meant to hurt you.” He muttered eventually and she shook her head.

“I’ve actually fainted twice already so it isn’t too much of a big deal, but yeah. That was a good request.” She scratched her nose and took all the pills at once, gulping down half the bottle with it and leaning on her elbows. 

“I’m sorry again.” He whispered and she shook her head. 

“It’s your kid, Steve. It only makes sense you would want that for her.”

“Him.” He teased and she rolled her eyes. 

“I’ll do it.” She said finally and his head whipped over to her as fast as lightning. She was half worried that she would need to take him to the hospital incase he tore something. 

“What?”

“I’ll marry you. I think you’re a pretty great guy, Steve and I’m not getting any younger, anyways.” She shrugged and Michaela gaped at them like a fish. 

“You’re 24, YN.” She scolded and she looked at her friend. 

“And my baby daddy wants to stick around and support us. It’s only fair I do this for him.” She shrugged, looking between their stunned faces.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked, aghast and shocked but looking sedately overjoyed. 

“As sure as I’ll ever be, Rogers.” She stuck out her hand and he looked at it with a raised eyebrow. “You take care of me and your kid and I marry you? Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.” She commented and he took her hand in his. 

“It’s a deal, then.” He smiled softly and tried his damned best to not jump across the couch and kiss her. This was never how he wanted to propose to someone, but hey, he was 106. Never a time like the present, right?

“Damn it.” Michaela swore. The newly-engaged couple looked over at her and she shook her head at both of them. “I’m gonna have to find a craigslist roommate aren’t I?”

_____________________

Tag List (send me an ask, ONLY. must interact with the fic more than a like): yesfanficsaremylife / notyourtypicalrose /  laurxn-robinson / disaster-rose / lille-kattunge / wwecrazed2010 / vxidnik / chewingoffmyfoot / vitamingrant / captainamericasbeard / chrisgalore / songforhema

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

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Let into the stranger’s apartment, Levi didn’t know whether to be impressed or not by its sheer emptiness. The man really seemed to only give two fucks about having a roof over his head, everything else was goddamn bleak once the apartment lights came on

“Sit on the sofa, I’ll get the first aid kit”

Right. The kid in front of him was too old to hold any youthful charms. There were no “welcome to my humble abodes”, but there was also no “don’t fucking bleed to death on my sofa”, leading him to wonder how many damn strays the man dragged home with no thought of his own safety. His host didn’t even close the door behind them, disappearing off through a door as Levi was left to limp him way into the living area, eyes drawn to massive fucking bong sitting on the table. Great. His “goddamn saviour” was a pot smoking hippy determined to do his good deed for the day.

Everything seemed to hurt as Levi sank onto the sofa. Pulling out his wallet and phone, he chucked them lightly on the table, before freeing himself of his jacket, and kicking back to examine the apartment closer. Other than the bong, the place wasn’t as terrible as it could be. The paint work seemed passable, the furniture served its purpose. Heck, the man had a small bookcase of what seemed to be well read classics, two photo frames sitting on the top shelf, summing up the total everything personal inside the space.

“Scotch, bourbon, or beer?”

Levi jumped, alpha growling lightly at the fact he’d let himself get distracted

“Got any water?”

Clanging from kitchenette connected to the living area, the way the man slammed his cabinet grated on Levi’s nerves. The typical alpha punk snorting, before replying

“You’re gonna want something harder when I’m stitching that hand of yours up”

“Tea?”

“That’s a new one. I’ve got coffee”

If Levi had wanted coffee, he would have asked for coffee. Nothing tonight was going fucking right

“Double shot scotch”

“I suppose you want ice”

Levi shrugged. It all pretty much tasted like warm piss, iced or otherwise

“Oh, man, sure... If you’re offering”

Chuckling at him, the stranger had an alright laugh. For a man he didn’t give two shits about, he wasn’t completely fucking awful

“Careful, there. You’re verging on being polite”

“I’m always polite”

“Says the one calling me a “lanky shit””

Being five-foot-fucking-three was shameful for an alpha. All his damn life people treated him like a fucking runt, not that Levi had an issue with it. He just wasn’t as tall as the strange brown haired man who’s sofa he was now bleeding onto, and apparently needed to care about this right now

“You fucking are”

Bring over the first aid kit and his scotch, the man quirked an eyebrow at him. Levi nearly blinking in shock. Never in his life had he set eyes on a set of eyes so damn green... Scruffy around the edges, the man had shed his leather jacket in favour of a black hoodie, brown hair pull back into a messy bun, not missing a beat as he quirked a smile at him

“And you’re a grumpy old man, aren’t you?”

Yeah. And the man who probably an escaped lunatic that’d murdered his mother and eloped with his sister, knowing Levi’s luck

“Fuck off”

“You know what they say, “6 out of 7 dwarves aren’t happy”. Give me your hand, I’ll take a look”

Holding his hand out Mister Lanky-fuck, as Levi had now decided to call him, sat on the edge of his coffee table. Even with the sofa a few inches taller with the cushion, Lanky-fuck had the never to be taller than him. One look at the man’s grease stained hands had the alpha wrinkling his nose

“Leave the kit, I’ll handle it. I don’t know what I’m likely to catch from those hands of yours”

“Don’t be such a baby. They have these magical things called gloves and sanitizer, my father would murder me if he ever thought I was patching someone up without gloves on. Are you always so damn uncooperative?”

What the fuck? The man in front of him seemed ready to fucking pout. He might have only just seen his face a few moments ago, but now Levi was stuck between the awkwardness of not knowing how young the kid was, or how old the man was... Normally he considered himself quite well versed in the subtle act of people watching. It kind of came in handy sizing up the man who wanted to beat you arse before a fight. Snarkily he shot back

“I don’t know, do you bring home every alpha you meet?”

The stranger shrugged

“I don’t know. Never brought anyone here before so I guess that’s a no. Now, let me fix you up then I can go the fuck to bed with it your death on my hands”

Snorting, and despite the sheer randomness of the situation, Levi wasn’t sure he would mind being murdered by the man in front of him. He seemed easily as cranky as he was, and he’d been looking for something to break the daily grind. Catching his tongue, the alpha blinked in self induced shock, realising he’d very nearly asked if going to bed involved going to bed to fuck. None of this was like him. He never wanted... he was on suppressants. The dumb blonde beta who’d busted his lip must have shaken his brain loose, either that or the late nights were finally catching up with him

“Wash your hands then put the gloves on”

“God. I’ve got you. You’re not the first person I’ve patched up. I would tell you to wash your hand off first but that would hurt like a bitch”

“This dump has an actual shower?”

“With soap and all”

Letting out a low whistle, Levi fooled no one with his tiny bit of actual surprise that somewhere so crappy would have working facilities. If anything the only “foolish” thing would be how much of a fool he was making of himself right now

“I don’t believe it, maybe you’ll have to show me”

Fuck. Fucking. Fuck. Abort. What he meant to say was “If you don’t mind, I’d actually prefer to wash my hands and face”. Not that... Confusion clouded the strangers features, followed by a heavy frown in his direction. Heck. Now the brat looked old enough to be pushing 30. Being “baby faced” had to have its damn limits

“Listen. You can shower if you want. You can eat my food. Hell, you can put your clothes through the washing machine and dryer. I didn’t bring you home for a fuck, and if you think I did, you’ve got it all wrong. I brought you home because you dying on our fucking back step would probably cost me a job I can’t afford to lose”

This was going terribly. Would things go better if he tried to introduce himself? He had no intention of running into this kid again, so what was the point giving him his name?

“Calm your shit. It was a joke. Just fix my hand and I’ll take it from there, Mister Lanky-fuck”

Sighing at him, Mister Lanky-fuck appeared done with him

“That’s a new one. It’s Kruger. My name... Do you really have to keep scowling at me?”

What kind of a name was “Kruger”? Was it a first name? Or a last name? Or a nickname? Nope. He didn’t care. None of this mattered anyway

“I’m not scowling”

He couldn’t help it. Time and time again he’d been told he’d look less murderous should he open his eyes just that little bit wider. He didn’t know what people expect from that shit. His face was pretty much set the same way it’d always been... something referred to as “resting bitch face”, if his idiot friend was to be believed. Having been forced to think about it left a scowl on his face. Kruger snatching up his hand before Levi could grimace at the amount of germs

“Right. Sit there and drink your scotch. I’ll have this done as soon as possible”

*

Neither man had any idea of how fateful this first meeting would be, least of all Eren who wasn’t sure he’d done an actual good dead. He hadn’t learned the strange short alpha’s name, only that he took stitches like he’d had them a hundred times before. Patching the bastard back up, Eren forced himself to remember that politeness did exist, though there did seem to be some kind of polite mutual annoyance at the world between them that he didn’t think he was imagining. Whatever. He’d shown the man around his apartment, told him to use whatever was there... then crashed so hard he really could have been murdered in his sleep.

Come the following afternoon, Eren had woken to find the stranger gone and for some unfathomable reason his washing done, ironed, and neatly left on his coffee table. Hell, he might have just taken him to bed had he known he’d get free housework out of it. Whatever the fuck last night was, that was the last time. The stranger was gone, and with the beating he’d gotten the night before, it was severely unlikely he’d ever see him at the garage again. God. His sister was going to kill him for this... good thing she was never going to find out about him acting on a stupid whim.