#god i try my hardest to give her a fair shake but i swear my mom would poison me just to prove her stupid lifestyle works

[valtsv]

the way some alternative health people feel entitled to your body + medical info based on nothing but their own assumption that you'll be grateful makes me venomous. girl i don't even let my doctor give me unsolicited advice about my health! book a goddamn appointment!

[softomi]

Meet the Slayer and her Crew

Life wasn’t always peachy, sunshine, and rainbows; yours was filled with blood, gore, and constant running. Born in a bloodline of slayers, you were part of the few living lineages left. Raised with a tight collar, your free time was spent training to defend yourself. Your after school extracurriculars were mythology literature, weaponry, witch craft, and some days cooking.

“How come she gets to leave right after school?” Many watched you, the last bell ringing signaling class over and while the rest of the students linger for club activities, you entered the car that pulled up to the school gates.

“I heard her parents came and blew up a storm saying that she didn’t need club activities; she’s going to take over her family business or something.”

It was true, as the only daughter, you were to carry the lineage. You needed practice and training to pass on the knowledge.

You always found it lonely and because you were lonely, the world decided to bestow onto you, three losers.

You weren’t intending on running into anyone that night and if you did, you could always play it as a nightly running exercise; but how could you explain this. The pesky vampire’s fangs were mere centimeters from your skin, it drew blood and just as you think that maybe this would be the last time you would breathe; the vampire is thrusted off.

Your hands tightening on the crossbow, the vampire starts running; the aim is dead on, the arrow penetrating him in the heart, and he falls to ashes.

The knot in your shoulder tightens and you’re stretching it out as you turn with a grin, “You’re incredibly late.” You expected to see one of your family friends, they insisted on going out with you that night but what you’re met with is three pairs of eyes bulging out of their sockets.

“What the fuck was that?!” Atsumu falls to the ground, having been the one to touch the thing he suddenly feels infected.

Osamu is taking a step back, oddly aware of the crossbow in your hand, “What?”

The third, still and quiet, Suna almost passes as calm but his eyes show a sudden panic. He isn’t even saying anything, an awkward laugh coming from his mouth.

“I can totally explain!” You drop the crossbow, waving your hands in front of you.

“Explain what?!” Suna shouts.

“Why? The ashes? The crossbow?” Osamu is stuttering.

Atsumu has his hands in his hair, “I touched it. I touched it. I touched it.”

It makes you wonder some days, just how the three losers were so quick to adapt to your lifestyle. It was a secret at first, reluctantly, you let them follow you on your nightly adventures. They would watch in awe and fear at the way you’d handle the monsters. Monsters, that’s what they would constantly call them at first.

Three months, you spent three months with them trailing behind you; constantly bickering with them to stand down. Three months saving their asses as they ran from anything and anyone. They were so quick to act big but then shrink away when a newly turned vampire crawls from the grave.

But then it happened, you dreamed something that shook you to the core. You dreamed of their blood on your hands, sadness in their eyes as they looked at you. The moment your eyes opened; a chill ran down your spine.

So you did something you had never done before, you were going to fight for what you wanted.  

“Let them join me.” You weren’t going to back down. The first time you asked, your parents responded with a harsh no. You jabbed the knife into your father’s desk, a cold stare into his eyes, “I am the future head of the household. I am only one person; I need people. I need people who are properly trained.”

“You’re asking us to train amateurs.” Your father speaks, “Little boys.”

“They’ve survived longer than most. I want them.”

And you got them. It was surprising just how quick they were to accept the ‘private tutoring’ as was listed in their formal invitations.

It was just as surprising how well they did in training. Atsumu competed with you in both combat and weaponry, you two have a little rivalry; but who’s keeping count on who knocks down the other the most. Atsumu is. You were a still a few points ahead, but he insists that the first few months don’t count; he was just getting the hang of it.

Suna seemed to fair better in mythology and demonology lessons. It was the one subject you still struggled with but it was one in which he soared in. You began to secretly think that he had been reading up during the three months they were following you. He’d snort seeing your latest grade on the quiz, his perfect hundred made your face red and you swore vengeance on the next quiz.

You weren’t surprised at how well Osamu excelled in witchcraft as well as cooking. He liked to think of the two as going hand in hand; something your mother noted as an excellent point. She hit your head when he made that comment, muttering about how at least someone understands.

“I take it back, I don’t want any of you here anymore!” You shouted one day when Atsumu landed you on the ground, “I used to be star student.”

“That was when you were the only student.” Suna remarks.

Atsumu leans over your body, a grin on his lips as his head blocks the sun from shining down on you, “Looks like we reached a tie sweetheart.”

“Guys, I think I finally did it. A potion that gives you extra speed.” Osamu appears from the house with glasses on a tray.

“Not it!” Suna and Atsumu shout in unison and you groan.

Osamu gives you a grin as you take the drink, the smell was wretched, “Couldn’t you have added vanilla into this?” You take a small sip, spitting it out immediately, “I swear to god Samu, if this gives me a tail again, I’ll bite you.”

Extras:

Miya Atsumu

“You need to cut off its head.” Suna’s voice was drowned out, the earbud in which is voice was coming from had fallen out of Atsumu’s ear.

“What!” Atsumu screamed as he struggled to keep the creature off, his shielded sword pressing against its neck, but it didn’t stop it from dripping drool on Atsumu, “The fuck this thing drooling so much for.”

“You need to cut off its head!” Suna was practically waking the whole neighborhood.

The creature hissed when a silver bullet penetrated its skin. It snarled, turning its body to you. Your own earbud had already fallen out at the front door when its sister creature had tackled you through a wall. You had told Suna the earbud idea was dumb. You continued to shoot the shotgun, your silver bullets running out as he neared you.

“Atsumu!” You’re calling out, “It’s your turn!”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” Atsumu was too distracted wiping the saliva off his face, picking up the earbud and shoving it in his ear, “I’m going to kill you Suna!”

“Cut off the head!” Suna shouts in his ear.

The slime splattered across your face, green coated your skin. You spat out what reached your mouth, the thing fell and behind it Atsumu stood with heavy breaths. Atsumu tossed the earbud onto the ground, stumbling to you. His footsteps are heavy, the sword clattering to the ground, he rests his head onto your shoulder.

“It drooled on me.” Atsumu whines.

You shove him off, “Yeah well you got slime in my mouth, we’re even.”

Miya Osamu

“Uh, Samu!” You were currently backed into a wall, your eyes looking all around, “It’s gone!”

“Just give me a second!” He’s calling from the first floor of the library.

You heard scuffles, you’re trying your hardest to listen keenly. The light footsteps to your left make you turn and throw a fist; you’re not sure if it makes a dent into what you’ve hit; but they’re definitely angry. It lifts you by the waist, your body hoisted into the air, your back colliding with one of the shelves.

You’re groaning loudly, “Samu! Any minute now!”

“What’s taking so damn long!” Atsumu barges into the room.

“Got it!” Osamu starts reading the literature, dusts of light grow from his palms; when he finishes the last line, he blows the dust. It spreads quickly, it disappears when it touches plain surfaces but the creature screeches as the dust paints its body.

“Catch!” Osamu throws a gun to you, it bounces off the railing and back to the first floor, “Sorry!”

You’re sighing deeply, hands gripping a chair to break its wooden legs. You use one of the legs as a stake, driving it into the heart of the creature. It falls to the ground, lying limp as the twins finally make their way up to the second floor.

Osamu presses a hand to your shoulder, “That was a close one right.”

You punch him in the gut, “Suna would know it off the top of his head!”

Suna Rintarou

“What’s it look like?!” Suna calls within the forest.

“Ugly!” You’re calling back as it knocks you down, it’s long arms reaching to pull you by the leg. Your foot meets its face, its teeth snarling when it’s kicked back.

“You gotta be a bit more specific!” The fog is frustrating Suna, even the twins have found themselves lost, you were the only one who called out to him.

“Suna!” Your yelling more as it cuts you with its nails across your stomach, “It’s shape shifting! What the fuck are you!” Your hands shake as the bullets do nothing to it, “Four legs! It’s torso is flipped backwards, fucking looks like Slenderman on meth.”

It pops into Suna’s head, “Oh! You’re not supposed to look at its face!”

“Well, it’s too late now!��� You’re staring directly at it. You’re on your feet, the silver dagger in your hand as you hold its gaze, “How am I supposed to kill you!”

“You need to take out its heart!” Suna sees you, through the foggy air, he’s finally reached you, “Hey. I’m here.” You shiver at his touch, “If you give me a second, I can clear the fog. The twins can come.”

“No.” Your own blood drips from your skin, you strike the dagger sharp into the air; it extends tenfold, “I’m finishing this.”

You rip the heart out from its chest, its blood dripping through your fingers. Your foot atop its lying body; the fog settles and the twins appear not far. Suna stares at the way you’re waving the heart in the air.

“Can you not.” He states.

“Suna! Take a picture!”

“No.”

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Dun dun dun! I started writing it like the day after I finished the last one and I’m already working on the next one. That’s how excited I am here. As always, a huge thank you to @edward-or-ford for being my beta!

Looks Like Someone Picked a Whole Bushel of Oopsie Daisies

Chapter Six: The Reveal

Can you feel it now? I’ve weighed it all out. Here and now, my world turns inside out. - Cartel, Only You

There are instances in our lives when we see or hear something so utterly shocking that our brains short-circuit and stop working entirely beyond the basic functions required to keep our bodies alive. Some things simply cause the brain to react in a 404-thought-process-not-found sort of way. That’s just how it is with some things, and it can’t really be avoided.

When confronted with something our brains cannot handle, we have a tendency to think, say, and do, unusual things. Someone might laugh at the shock of seeing a corpse, but that isn’t because they actually find the situation amusing. They are simply so horrified that their brain doesn’t know how to react, and so the person laughs as a coping mechanism.

In that strange, incredible, unimaginable moment, Mabel recalled holding her grandfather’s hand as he murmured nonsensical things on his deathbed. He kept saying that he was going on a trip, but he wasn’t packed or ready, that he couldn’t leave yet. Mabel was only eleven at the time and didn’t really grasp the significance, but she eventually came to understand that her grandfather, though not really there mentally, recognized he was dying and that his brain was trying to help him cope with the impossible.

Mabel was not dying, however, although she thought that perhaps she was already dead (she felt rather weightless, and the scenario she found herself in seemed entirely out of the question for her, so what explanation could there be other than there being an afterlife she didn’t even necessarily believe in? Did people who were in love with their siblings even get a happily ever after(life)? Mabel didn’t know, and she didn’t have the presence of mind to overthink it), so when Dipper pulled his sleeve back over his wrist and pulled it against his stomach, looking away with adorably flushed cheeks, it occurred to Mabel that he probably shouldn’t have been moving in slow motion, but he was. It was like she was falling, and she was in that split second right before you hit the ground where everything moves so slowly it almost seems like time is frozen completely.

She’d been right. He’d been planning on showing her his soulmark. And she was… no, no. That’s not possible. It had never occurred to Mabel that Dipper could be her soulmate and she had therefore never done any research, but how could it be possible that she and Dipper shared a soulmark? She’d never heard of such a thing. As far as she knew, the general consensus on incest was… unfavorable, to put it mildly. Sure, technically speaking, all soulmate couples were legal provided both parties were of age, but she’d simply never considered the possibility that incestuous soulmates would have ever even come up.

The only logical conclusion was, of course, that she had misinterpreted what she saw, and that while Dipper did have a soulmark (and the skin surrounding it wasn’t red and irritated the way it usually was with newly formed soulmarks), it most certainly was not a match with hers, although it was similar enough to be mistaken for hers upon first glance.

No. Of course it wouldn’t have matched Mabel’s soulmark. She was the freak, after all. Dipper was normal, and he had a normal soulmark just like everyone else, and he probably knew who his soulmate was, and he was gonna start dating her and move in with her in one of the government-funded Young Adult Soulmate apartments, and they’d get married right out of high school or maybe even right away, and they’d have their first kid of many right after college, and Mabel would be left trying her hardest to be kind to the soulmate-turned-wife-turned-mother-of-Dipper’s-children and the lucky bitch would get to touch Dipper in a way that Mabel never would and he’d look at her in a way he’d never look at Mabel and Mabel would babysit their children while Dipper and his wife/soulmate (who was decidedly not Mabel) went on dates and came home all lovey-dovey and they’d have sex like all the time because soulmates always had sex all the time and oh god if his soulmate was seventeen already then Dipper would’ve… he already would’ve… oh god oh god oh god no she didn’t wanna picture that, anything but that, no-

There was the sound of a quiet, gasping breath of someone who was very clearly crying, but it wasn’t until Dipper’s head whipped around to look at Mabel with wide, shocked eyes that she realized her cheeks were wet and the sound had come from her own throat.

Dipper blinked at her, surprised, and all Mabel could think of was if the makeup was waterproof or not, thanking of how furious Candy would be if she knew Mabel had ruined her friend’s Sephora eyeliner and mascara by crying, before remembering that yes, it was indeed waterproof, much her relief.

“Uh…” Dipper’s voice was awkward and squeaky and ugh stop being so fucking adorable you fucking asshole. “Why… why are you crying?”

Mabel took another watery breath. “Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.”

Dipper stared at her dubiously. “No, I don’t think you are, so please tell me why you’re upset.”

Mabel whimpered and shook her head, wisps of hair flying around her face as she did so.

He ran a hand over his face (which bore a remarkable resemblance to a tomato that had been genetically engineered to make it as red as possible) and tugged on the hair hanging over his forehead.

“Look, I know… I know that I’m not what you wanted, or what you pictured in a soulmate,” Mabel’s eyes shot up from her hands in her lap to his face. What? “But, I mean, would, y’know… would being with me really be the worst thing in the world?” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but Mabel couldn’t speak at all. “I mean, I was pretty surprised, too, when I found out, but I was also really, really happy, because there’s no one I’d rather have as my soulmate than you, and I get that the whole twincest thing is pretty gross to most people so it’s fair if you feel that way, too, of course, but even so, I… I…”

He trailed off, taking a deep breath before speaking again, his voice stronger and surer. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, I feel like it’s just been building up for years and after we hit seventeen I couldn’t keep holding it in, and I had to tell you. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t keep it from you anymore. I tried, I tried so hard, but I couldn’t and I’m sorry. Mabel, I…” he looked at her, something intense and crazed and alive swirling in his eyes, and his voice returned to a whisper again. “Fucking hell, Mabes, I burn for you so goddamn badly that sometimes I think it’s going to kill me.” There was a severity to his voice despite the whisper. “I’ll give you the fucking world, I swear, I’ll give you anything you want. So I’m gonna ask again: would being with me really be the worst thing in the world?”

The tears hadn’t stopped. They hadn’t even slowed. He opened his mouth to speak again (it seemed that once Dipper started with the whole revelations thing, he couldn’t really stop), but Mabel cut him off.

“How long?”

He blinked, surprised that she’d finally said something. “Huh?”

“How long have you known?”

“Uhhh…” he trailed off, looking away awkwardly.

“I’ve had my mark for as long as I can remember, Dipper,” she said in a low, dangerous voice. “You must’ve had yours for just as long. How long have you known?”

He buried a hand in his hair, blushing to his roots again. “Remember that time when we were Skyping and mom left you alone for a minute and you showed me your soulmark? Yeah....”

“Are you fucking kidding me? That was… that was three years ago!” Mabel’s voice was still quiet, but then she exploded. “Do you… do you have any idea, any fucking clue, the slightest goddamn inkling, how much agony I’ve been in? Do you have any idea at all?”

Astonished by his sister’s rage, Dipper shrunk back. “Uhh… no?”

Mabel was fuming. How dare he keep something so important from her? “You… you… you bastard! I have been in love with you for years! Years of guilt and pain and… and misery just because I loved somebody I felt like I shouldn’t, but whoops, guess it turns out it wasn’t even my fucking fault, was it, it’s just that my absolute dickhead of a brother or a soulmate or whatever the fuck you are now, he just decided not to tell me, or he forgot, or some other bullshit!” Her voice was shaking, and she was cursing way more than she normally did. Dipper, for his part, looked properly guilt-stricken. “Anything else, asshat? Anything else you’d like to share with the class?” She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

She was still crying, but they were angry -furious, really- tears. His face was frozen in shock, however. “You… you’re in love with me?”

Mabel blushed too, and forced herself to stay angry despite the adorably dopey, astonished, thrilled expression on his face. “So what? That’s not the point here,” she snapped.

“You’re in love with me,” he repeated, still in shock. “Really? Are you sure?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I’m sure, but again: that’s not the point here!”

He didn’t even seem to hear her, he just kept staring at her, an elated expression on his face. “You’re in love with me,” he said again, his dopey smile growing.

“Yes, I’m in love with you, get over it, Dipper!” She actually raised her voice at that point. He certainly wasn’t absorbing her words any other way. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “Now then, is there anything else I need to know?”

He blinked, recognition returning to his eyes as if he’d been snapped back into reality. “Well, I guess there are some things you should probably know…”

“Well? She snapped after a few seconds.

“Well, uh… apparently, siblings being soulmates isn’t that uncommon, and usually siblings who are soulmates are actually twins, so it’s not like we’re super unusual or anything.”

“Great to know I’m not a freak of nature. Thanks so much for telling me as soon as I started feeling that way,” she said sarcastically.

“Err… sorry,” he mumbled. “There’s also, well… I mean… I’ve done a lot of research on why soulmates are who they are, so…”

“Uh huh. Go ahead, then,” she said with a wave of her hand, having done minimal research herself.

“Well, you see, it’s determined by…” he murmured the last part so quietly she couldn’t hear him.

“What’s that?”

He told a deep breath before attempting to speak again. “It’s determined by emotional compatibility as well as capability for physical attraction, and physical compatibility, which obviously means, um…” she raised her eyebrows at him. “Which obviously means… y’know. Sexual compatibility.” He coughed uncomfortably. “It’s also determined by who can help the other person have the healthiest kids possible. Even kids that are born from incestuous soulmates are usually healthier than unrelated non-soulmates.”

Sex. Sex with Dipper. Dipper on top of her, underneath her, inside her. Images from dreams and fantasies flashed in Mabel’s mind, but she pushed them away as firmly as she could. She was still pissed at the dickbag, after all.

Oh, but children with Dipper. Their children. Together. Fucking hell, she’d never truly let herself consider that long enough to want it, but once she thought about it, she wanted it so badly she thought she might start crying again.

No! Shoving those thoughts from her mind, too, Mabel scowled at him.

“Anything else?”

He sighed. “Well… our parents have known our whole lives.”

“What?”

He nodded. “Why d’you think they kept us apart, or fed us that allergy bullshit? We’re not allergic to each other, they just didn’t want us touching ‘cause we’re soulmates.”

“And I assume you’ve known that for years, too?”

He nodded again.

“Fucking hell,” she muttered, staring out the window briefly. She needed to escape. She needed to escape him or she’d throttle him. Undoing her seatbelt with shaking hands as more tears threatened to fall, Mabel unlocked the car door and threw it open.

“Uhhh, what’re you doing?” Dipper questioned as she stood up, heels digging into the cold, wet grass.

“I can’t be around you right now,” she told him flatly before shutting the door behind her and walking off.

To her horror, she heard the driver’s side door open behind her, sneakers touch the ground, and the close of the car door.

“Mabel!” He called out, and she could tell he was jogging over to her. Dammit. Just as she was about to get to the edge of the clearing and escape into the woods, too. “Mabel, wait,” he’d reached her side. Just fan-fucking-tastic.

“Leave me alone,” she snapped, refusing to look at him.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” he told her, stepping in front of her to block her path.

“For one thing, you took off your coat earlier and you didn’t put it back on and it’s way too cold for you to be walking around in jeans and a shirt, no matter how…” he shuddered, his eyes raking over her. “No matter how incredibly attractive you may look.”

Squashing down her joy at the compliment, she kept eyes on her feet. “I don’t care. Leave me alone.” Tears caught on her eyelashes as she blinked. She felt so conflicted. She was so angry with him, but she wanted nothing more than to nestle herself into his arms. She wanted to scream at him, but she also wanted to whisper her adoration in his ear. She wanted to punch him, but she also wanted to kiss him. She was thrilled beyond all measure at the prospect of being his soulmate, but she was also terrified beyond belief. She’d never been so conflicted in her life.

“Mabel,” he said her name quietly, like a prayer. Like a curse. Like she was the answer to every question that had ever been asked in the history of the world. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. I was scared of what our parents would do, but more than anything, I was so, so petrified you wouldn’t want me.”

“Idiot,” she muttered, tears still flowing freely as she kicked at the grass. “We’re soulmates. I have no choice but to want you.”

She heard the smile in his voice. “Yeah, I guess that’s true, huh? We want each other no matter what.”

“Well you don’t have to sound so happy about it,” she snapped.

“I can’t help it. I love you, and I’m just… I’m so fucking happy you love me back.”

“Idiot,” she said again.

“Yup, that’s me. I’m an idiot,” he agreed, still very clearly grinning like he’d won the goddamn lottery. Raising her gaze to his to glare viciously at him, she found herself startled by how overwhelmingly gorgeous he was, and- no, no, still mad, remember?

Noticing she’d been crying again, she supposed, he took a step towards her, hand outstretched. “Mabel, I really am sorry. I never, ever wanted to hurt you.”

She backed up faster than a Smart Car trying to get away from an eighteen wheeler. “N-no!” She stuttered out. “Don’t touch me!”

If he got any closer, she didn’t think she’d have been able to stop herself from whacking him.

He stopped, hurt clear in his eyes, and lowered his hand. “It’d make you feel better if I held you,” he told her softly.

“I don’t care,” she snapped again.

“I do, though. You’re angry and hurt and I caused it. Please let me fix it.”

“I can’t promise I won’t hit you if you come near me,” she warned.

“That’s okay. Hit me if it’ll help,” he took another step, this one slow, as if she were a wounded animal he’d found in the wild and was afraid he’d scare away.

All of a sudden, the fear that had been pushed out of her mind in place of her anger came rushing back. He’d never touched her before, and she was petrified.

He stepped closer to her, and time seemed to slow down again. When he finally reached her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, she felt as if the universe would collapse in on itself.

She couldn’t hold her sobs in, so she didn’t, and she couldn’t really seem to keep her fists from pounding against his chest, either. He was so warm, and he was being so goddamn sweet, and in that moment she hated him with every fiber of her being.

He wasn’t even fighting back. He was just letting her hit him. Not that it was particularly hard, of course; it probably didn’t hurt him in the slightest. She looked up at his stupid, idiotic face to tell off his stupid, idiotic ass again, just for good measure, and when she did, he reached up and brushed away her tears with his thumb.

It was the first time his skin had touched hers in as far back as either of them could recall.

And then, suddenly, she remembered something about soulmates who hadn’t, y’know… consummated things yet: skin-to-skin contact flipped what was essentially an aphrodisiac switch that had a tendency to make both parties lose a fair amount of self-control.

It was probably an evolutionary mechanism meant to encourage reproduction as quickly as possible. In all actuality, though, it was just a pain in the ass.

Mabel subconsciously pressed her body against Dipper’s. The arm that was still around her held her tighter, his hand traveling into her hair.

“When’d you get so tall?” She wondered as she looked up at him. Her burning anger had given way to a different kind of burning altogether.

He shrugged. “Kinda happened… gradually, I guess?”

“Hm,” she acknowledged, playing with the fabric of his coat and staring at her fingers.

“Mabel?” His voice was soft, and she looked back up at him questioningly. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

Images flashed through her mind with lightning speed again. “Yes,” she whispered.

With a slowness that was downright agonizing, Dipper placed his hand on Mabel’s cheek (to hold himself steady as much as her, but don’t tell either of them that), leaned down, and gently, ever so gently, pressed his lips to hers.

[soulwillower]

pink lemonade • richie tozier

some roommate richie x reader smut that i wrote really quickly agh 

warnings: smut, swearing, oral (fem receiving), praise kink, kinda jealous richie, drunk friends

[the losers + reader are aged up to college!]

2.7k words

♡

"richie, are you sure you don't want to come out?" you ask with a frown. he knew you were concerned for a pretty fair reason - it was very unlike him to skip out on a night of partying and stay home. he shrugs though, nodding with a smile. "i'm fine, doll. just not in the mood. go have fun with them." he insists, nodding his head towards bev and stan who sit in your kitchen. he's trying his hardest to stop himself from sounding frustrated. "i'll be here when you come home. and if you get home late, remember to lock the doors and tell your night guest hi for me." he says before shutting the door to his bedroom. he can hear you through his door, "um, okay. i guess let's just go." you say, sounding dejected, slightly pissed off and confused. great, now he's done it. "bye rich!" richie hears bev and stan call before the front door shuts.

hours later, richie's sitting on your shared kitchen counter staring at the wall, a bowl of chips discarded and untouched to his left. it was well past one and he was kind of regretting not going out. it was the not knowing that was killing him, really - were you kissing some guy right now? grinding with him, pulling him into a stall in the bathroom?

he wasn't judging, he could never do that. but he's jealous, that's for sure.

after another few minutes, as richie's chugging his glass of pink lemonade you finally stumble through the door. he's relieved that you're safe and opens his mouth to ask about your night until he sees that you're not alone. his heart drops to his ass in disbelief and heartbreak as you giggle quietly, shushing the tall figure whose arms are around you. "stan, come on, i think richie's sleeping." you mumble, laughing as you look at the figure. stan?

richie wants to snap stan's neck. of course you'd like stan, who wouldn't? he can't believe he's going to have to listen to his best friend fuck his roommate (who he may be in love with but that is not important) all night while he wallows away by himself in misery, stuck to imagine that he was the one who was making you moan. "i'm not." richie speaks up, sliding off the counter.

you jump at his voice, turning to him with a large grin. stan looks to him, "hey, rich! c-can i stay here?" stan hiccups with a charming grin. richie's eyebrows shoot up. he looks to you. "you think this is a good idea?" he asks you and you frown with a confused shrug. "what? our place was closer. i didn't think it would be a big deal, i thought you'd be asleep." you say, making richie scowl. "yeah, sure, he can stay. whatever, i'm not the boss of you." he grumbles, finishing the last of his lemonade. with that, he walks back to his room, shutting his door but not before hearing stan mumble, "well who pissed in his cereal?"

richie can't fall asleep, not after the sugary drink he just downed, so he just sits idly in the dark until he hears footsteps and a groan from outside his door. he rolls his eyes, about to tell you to at least shut your fucking door before you and stan sleep together, for richie's ears' sake. as he pulls the door open, he sees you in sweats and a tank top, a duvet and pillow in your hands. "what are you doing?" richie asks, still sounding hostile. "can you shut your door before you and ramen hair do anything?" he asks grumpily. you frown at him, looking annoyed and not even chuckling at his nickname. "what's your fucking issue, tozier? did i do something to you?" you frown.

ignoring your questions, he asks, "y/n, are you drunk?"

you roll your eyes. "no, asshole. i only had one drink like four hours ago. i had to stay sober and take care of stan and bev, but now stan's dead asleep and there's no room in my bed, so i'm gonna take the couch." you grumble.

richie sighs, feeling guilty. he was being a jealous asshole to her all night for no reason. he needs to control himself. "you can just stay in here, y/n/n." he says with a tight-lipped smile, opening his door. you blink up at him, smiling and lifting up on your toes to peck his cheek. "thanks, rich." you say softly, walking in and sitting on his bed. "so what's on your mind, then? did i leave the milk unopened again?" you ask, worrying your lip as he shuts his door. he smiles gently at the look on your face.

he shakes his head, sitting down on the other side of the bed from you. "no, y/n/. you did nothing." he sighs, not wanting to explain himself so that you wouldn't fucking move out or something when you find out he's into you. "bullshit. you've been acting weird all night." she says, throwing him a glare with barely any heat.

"i just... i guess i've been feeling lonely lately. i didn't want to see you hook up with anyone, especially stan." he says quickly, laying back to stare at the ceiling. you're quiet for a moment but he hears you lay back as well. "okay... well why is that?" you say slowly as if trying to piece together his feelings.

"i don't know. it doesn't matter." richie grumbles, knowing his voice sounds angry. "richie, you aren't the one that should be mad." you quip to him, making him look at you. you're propped on your arms, laying on your stomach and he wishes you weren't because he can see right down the hem of your tank top. "wait...oh, my god!" you say, a disbelieving smile on your face and he knows he's been caught staring. richie quickly darts his eyes to yours. "you're lonely? ... you're just horny!" you yelp.

fuck.

richie groans, "no fucking way, you're just annoying when you flirt with our friends. it's annoying. and if i was just horny, believe i could fix that." he says, instantly regretting saying it. he's just panicking, and annoyed, and kind of turned on and he just needs to sleep so you'll forget about this whole thing.

"so you're more than just lonely, then?" you say, tilting your head. you don't seem upset, in fact you've got a slight smirk on your face. it looks sexy. richie shakes his head, "fuck off." he mutters. your eyebrows shoot up, biting your lip.

"because i'm also a little lonely." you say quietly and richie swears he imagined it. fuck, he's already turned on. "why don't you have stan take care of that?"

"i don't think he could give me what i want." you say in mock disappointment, finger reaching out to trace lines down richie's chest. he snatches your hand from his chest and pulls you closer to him, staring at your lips. you look a little shocked but you lean in closer. "and... what do you want?" he asks. you shrug, "it's always been you."

he doesn't waste any more time, pulling you into him and kissing you. you kiss back feverishly, your teeth clashing and noses bumping but richie doesn't care because all he can think about is you. his hands roam over your body, squeezing your hips, ass, then up to your breasts. you're letting out little moans that richie's dreamed of ever since you moved in together.

he pushes you on your back so he can crawl on top of you. "you taste like pink lemonade." you mumble breathlessly, your cheeks flushed with arousal.

he lets you pull off his shirt and he slips off your tank top, groaning when he sees you're not wearing a bra. his room is cold enough that your nipples perk up and he kisses your chest, his tongue flicking over one of your nipples before moving to the other. you gasp, your whole body shivering under him. richie chuckles, grinding down on you lightly, relishing in the mewl you let out. "you have no idea how long i've wanted you." you whisper, causing richie to groan.  your hands slide down to palm him through his jeans and he bites back a loud groan. "please fuck me richie." you whine, eyes shut.

he chuckles, intending on making you work a little harder for it. "so needy, hm?" he hums, smiling as your beautiful face flushes red. "you want my cock?" he asks, grabbing your jaw softly. your eyes open and you whimper as he kisses you. he reaches down to slip a hand into your waistband, fingers fluttering over your underwear. "please, please," you mumble, bucking into his hand. he chuckles, slipping his hand under your underwear and swirling his fingers through your wet pussy. "so wet, all for me?" he asks, watching you as he teases your clit with his finger tip. you nod and he grins, amazed at the immediate change in confidence that you'd had minutes ago. now you're a moaning mess, desperate for him and he loves it.

"be a good girl for me and you'll get what you want, okay?" he mutters, thumb rubbing your bottom lip. you open your mouth and he slips two of his fingers in, groaning as you suck eagerly on them, your tongue swirling around. he pulls your sweats off with your help and then he pulls your underwear to the side, slipping his middle finger immediately into your warmth. he feels you clench slightly around him as you moan and he realizes that it must have been a while because you're so fucking tight.

"so good," he mutters, pumping his finger before adding another, palming himself as he grows fully hard watching your reactions. "so perfect and ready for me."

his thumb rubs your clit and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, groaning loudly. "nope. none of that, sugar. i wanna hear how good i'm making you feel." he says, smirking as he sees your eyes roll back in pleasure. "you're being such a good girl."

you moan loudly at his words and he smirks, not surprised you've got such a thing for praise. he takes note of that and curls his fingers as he pumps into you. he feels you clenching and leans down, replaces his thumb with his lips to flick your clit with his tongue. "r-richie, i'm gonna..." you say with your hands threaded through his hair. he just pumps harder and he feels you clench around him as you cum.

he pulls away and you whimper, your chest heaving. you sit up, looking fucked out and completely beautiful, and you kiss him hard. he groans when you slip your hand into his waistband, wrapping your hand around his cock and pumping slowly. "holy shit, you're huge." you whisper, eyes wide as you pull away from his lips. richie tries to keep the cocky smirk off his face, "what, you thought i was joking all those times?" he asks, and you bite your lip, shaking your head, seemingly slightly nervous now. he kisses you and lays you back down, pulling off his sweats and boxers before sliding your underwear down your legs. you look at him as you lick your lips, waiting. he stares at you, completely naked in his bed, and thinks you look like a fucking dream. "you sure, sugar? we don't have to." he asks with his bottom lip between his teeth. you nod, "yes, richie. one hundred percent. i'm yours."

he lines up and grabs your hands as he pushes in slowly, holding himself up with one arm. you gasp as he slides all the way in and he moans at how tight you are. "god, so good for me." he says into your ear. he starts slowly, giving you time to adjust until he feels you slowly letting out little moans and moving your hips with his. he immediately picks up the pace, his hips sliding into yours as you both let out curses.

he attaches his lips to the column of your neck, sucking and biting marks onto your beautiful skin as he slams into you. your hands are still intertwined and he loves how you whimper as you clench around him.

after a few more minutes, he lets your hands go and snakes his hand to your already sensitive clit and you gasp, hands scratching down his back. "fuck, y/n, so fucking tight for me." richie groans, loving the feeling of your nails dragging down his back. "you gettin' close again, honey?" he asks, smiling as your face, as always, contorts with a blush at his pet names. "yes, yes," you mumble, kissing him fiercely. he's thrusting into you passionately, hitting you deeper with every thrust and you hold him against you, moaning. he can tell you're about to cum again and he sits up slightly, grabbing your hips and hitting you deeper, making you moan his name loudly. your lips plant themselves on his neck. after a long stroke, he knows you're going to cum and he moans as you hit your high, still thrusting as you clench through your high. "fuck, rich." you moan and he stills his hips, cumming inside you with a groan of his own.

you're breathing heavily as you grin up at richie. he meets your eyes when he pulls his head from your shoulder and he pulls out of you slowly. you gasp at the sensation, looking dazed and in disbelief as he slides your underwear back up your legs, patting your stomach. "such a good girl," he mumbles, seeing you blush at the praise. he plants a kiss at your waistband, rubbing your stomach before pulling on a pair of boxers and crawling back to you.

you look at him with a tired smile and he swears his heart soars, pulling you towards his chest. you curl into him and he can feel your legs shaking slightly. "you okay, y/n/n?" he asks softly into your hair. you nod, "yeah, yeah. you're such a fucking trashmouth, even in bed." you say, breathing heavily.

richie bites his lip, brushing your hair back as you look up at him. "i-is that okay? i wasn't too much, was i?" he asks nervously. you smile, shaking your head, "that was so fucking good." you assure him, kissing his lips again. "you're.. god, i really like you." you trail off looking nervous, as if he'd ever reject you. never in a million fucking lifetimes would he ever reject you. "i really like you too, sweetheart." he mumbles, cupping your chin with his fingers. you smile at his admission, "can we do this forever? i hate being alone." you ask shyly. richie smiles though, pulling you closer to his chest and laying his head atop yours, kissing a kiss to the crown of your head. "i'll be yours for as long as you'll have me, sugar." he mumbles, feeling the pull of post-orgasm bliss lull him into a tired state. "g'night, rich." you say sleepily, nuzzling into his chest. he feels warm everywhere. "goodnight, y/n/n."  

the next morning richie wakes up to an empty bed, but something tells him you haven't ditched him. he knew you better than that, so he brushes his teeth and walks out into the main area to find you and stan in the kitchen eating eggs and fruit. "there's some left for you." you say, giving him a sweet smile which he immediately returns. you've got a string of hickeys hiding under the collar of what he notices to be his own sweater. richie pads over to get himself some breakfast, sitting next to stan and rubbing his shoulder. stan gives him a smile and it's blissfully quiet for a few moments.

"so, did you guys have sex?" stan asks bluntly, making you choke on your coffee. richie snorts, eyeing stan as he looks at him quizzically. "yes." richie says with a grin, yelping as you smack him with a towel from across the table. "nice," stan responds, high giving richie. "proud of you, man." stan says, yawning into his eggs. you roll your eyes, looking up at richie as he blows you a kiss with a wink.

[my-fanfic-library]

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [27]

Masterlist

Warning: gore ;)

~^*^~

Stalking down the hallway, Jack was in a fury. Trust Daniel to take advantage of a desperate situation. Turning the corner, Jack almost collided with a very familiar person.

“Hi Jacko!” She beamed.

“Don’t call me that.” Jack grumbled.

“Oh,” her eyes landed on Dracula, “hello again, you.” Immediately, her eyes glossed over. She was clearly trying to flirt.

“Hello again, Chelsea.” Dracula smiled, which faded when Jack glared sharply at him. He didn’t know what had happened but considering how badly Jack’s nostrils were flaring, it wasn’t good.

“I’m surprised to see you here. Considering the situation, I thought you’d broken up with [First].”

“They did.” Jack replied for Dracula, and Chelsea sent him a look as if to say ‘shut it!’

“Shame. Well, should you ever want another young adventure...”

“No thanks,” Dracula began, “I’m afraid I prefer my food a little less... handled.”

Her face immediately reddened and Jack had to admit that pride swelled in his chest. Dracula was slowly becoming a pro at comeback culture. Oh god, he wish he had a camera to take a picture of the shock and offence settling on Chelsea’s face because he knew that you of all people would have loved to see it. Thinking of you, he needed to hurry to the apartment.

Chelsea quickly composed herself to scowl at Dracula.

“You’re too old for me anyway, granddad.” Dracula chuckled at her words.

“Touched a nerve?” He teased with a low and soft voice.

“You wish.”

“You wish.”

“Alright!” Jack interjected nervously, “we need to go pick [First] up.”

As if on cue, the door halfway down the hallway burst open and a bag flew out, smashing against the wall and crashing to the floor. Following it, your voice, screaming all sorts of profanities. Okay, you were upset.

Dracula narrowed his eyes, pushing past the pair and making his way further down the hallway. Your voice was strangled and hoarse. Were you crying...?

A male’s voice came in, cutting off your own in an angry rant. Dracula did not know what had gone on, but nobody - nobody - made you cry. This green fuel coursing his body was unfamiliar. It was strange. He didn’t know why it burnt in the bottom of his chest, or why it was making his steps grow with each passing second. He just knew that he was about to grab this asshole speaking to you like you were nothing and throw him through a wall.

You stepped backwards, out of the door, still looking inside of the apartment. Your face was red with tears streaming down your face.

“Was this your plan all along?” You were trembling, “accept me into your life in my hour of desperation and just use me for a quick shag?!”

“We aren’t even dating! I don’t get why you’re so upset!”

“Because you- because you kept telling me how much you’d missed me! You kept begging me to give myself to you again! And I did and then- then- you bring that filth in! You fucked her like you fucked Lucy!”

So it was Daniel after all. Infamous Daniel who had shattered your heart. Dracula had to thank him in some respects. Had you not needed to flee to Whitby, you may have never met. Right now, Dracula couldn’t imagine waking up in the 21st century and not meeting you. How differently would it have gone? Would he still have had to kill Zoe? Would Jack even be here? Would Lucy have died?

Who knew? The only thing Dracula knew was the green seeping into his mind, and the red beginning to cloud his vision. Not a soul on this fucking planet was allowed to upset you.

“That’s- not fair.” Daniel’s voice softened.

“Is it not?!” You shrieked, “but you bringing that-!” You cut your self off with a noise of anger, running your hands through your scalp and tugging on the roots of your hair. You bit your lip, turning and freezing.

“Don’t let me halt you from finishing your sentence.” Dracula spoke, voice very soft. His eyes had also softened at the sight of you. You were at breaking point.

“Drac...?” your voice was so sweet, so hoarse. Dear god, you oozed sadness in every fibre of your being right now.

“Hello, darling.”

“Why did you bring him?” You were looking past him now, a furious gaze at Jack.

“I thought maybe you’d like to-“ Jack began.

“You thought wrong. You-“ you turned back to the apartment, pointing at the male who was still inside. Dracula had not seen him in person yet, “you can fucking rot in hell. If I ever see you again, I swear to god I will literally tear your voice box out of your throat.”

“[First]-“ Dracula began, but he was the next one to receive your anger.

“Don’t you even start. If you had just controlled yourself for once-! If you had just a tiny,” you motioned with your fingers, “tiny ounce of self control and left Renfield alone, this wouldn’t have happened!” You were in a rage, “I really don’t want to see you right now.”

Ouch.

“You’re being a right bitch, you know that?” Daniel’s voice came from the apartment and you flew into a fury. You turned, the bag that had fallen to the floor was in your hand and you launched it at him.

“Shut the fuck up, manwhore!”

“Um, ow?”

~^*^~

The guest bedroom at your parents’ house felt weird. You refused to sleep in your own bedroom, though.

In all honesty, you didn’t really know why you were angry at Dracula. You were just being... difficult. You were, of course, fully blaming him for turning Renfield, but how was anyone to know that Renfield would suddenly become obsessed with hunting you down? All of you knew that Dracula wouldn’t have turned him if this was the outcome. He probably would have fired him on the spot, had he known.

How had it gotten like this?

You wondered what Dracula was doing right now. After your outburst, he was either on his way to kill you himself in a possessive outburst of his own, or he was going to leave you and let Renfield find you. There was no way that he would possibly stand up for you now.

Oh, how wrong could you possibly have been...

A new box was sitting in the place of the old one - the centre of the room that usually remained locked. It was rocking violently. Dracula tutted. What a shame. He didn’t have any time to waste with his newest addition. Oh, no, he had somewhere very important to be. Anger had been bubbling in his chest all day. He looked quite disheveled, his usually neat white shirt untucked, the first few buttons undone, the sleeves lazily rolled up.

The drive to his destination was slow and bothersome. Rush hour traffic - especially in London - was a force to be reckoned with. Even against a vampire. But Dracula didn’t feel like making a magical entrance. He wanted to make sure he was understood, that his point would come across.

Too long, he had been bothered by this whole ordeal. Too long, the pain had been felt.

He was going to put a stop to it.

He remembered the way easily, slamming his car door and stalking forwards. This was going to be so fun. He smirked.

And then, he was at the door. He knocked.

“Who is it?” The voice called.

“Open the door and find out.” Dracula called back.

He heard a sound. Then silence. Perhaps he was expected to leave if the door didn’t open for him. He rolled his head, readying himself. Limber up. He was technically an OAP, after all. He’d need to ready his body.

Silence.

He stepped back, and then the sound, like an explosion as with all the force he had, he kicked the door in. It flew open, smashing against the wall, the handle lodging itself into the wall. Standing on the other side of the room, almost cowering, the being that made a snarl come from Dracula’s mouth. Undeath wouldn’t do. Utter destruction. That would be the only way.

“Hello, Daniel. We haven’t met. I’m Dracula.” He grinned, a demented kind of grin. The kind you’d associate with a murderer.

“You-...” how could he say anything?

“Cat got your tongue?”

“What are you doing here?”

Dracula took a good look at him. 5’7”, 8” at a push. He wasn’t very muscular, he’d be easy to overpower. He was trying his hardest to look intimidating, but Dracula, who just stood there, doing nothing at all, was clearly the alpha here.

“Well, you see, I just couldn’t stop thinking about the way you treated [First] today,” Dracula began, “or the last time you were with her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Boy, he couldn’t hide the terror in his voice no matter how hard he tried.

“You treat women like they’re nothing. You treat them like toys to be disposed of once you’ve had enough. [First], Lucy, Chelsea, goodness knows how many more...” Dracula turned, and Daniel watched as he plucked the door from the wall as if it were merely a dart, and shut it softly behind him. He closed in, towering above the younger, “you hurt her. You have no respect for her. I can’t let you get away with that.”

“You’re fucking crazy.” Daniel whispered.

“I’m crazy...?” Dracula amused, pulled up an eyebrow, “you dared to hurt the only thing a vampire cares about.”

“...vampire...? Now I know you’re batshit.”

“Actually, just bat.”

His eyes darkened. His lips curled. He was overcome with the anger, the jealousy, the sheer... whatever the fuck it was. It was all in his chest and the urge to just dive into ruining the pathetic man before him swallowed him whole.

The screams that filled the room would never have been able to truly disclose what occurred in that room. Limb from limb, Dracula tore Daniel apart, taking his sweet time. Starting with each of his fingers, moving to his toes. He wanted the pain to last as long as possible. Blood was already soaking the carpet, Daniel’s body shaking violently with the shock. Using his nails, Dracula ripped his skin to ribbons, creating such a mess of his form. The blood... for the first time, Dracula knew that it wasn’t worth tasting. He didn’t need to inherit any part of the filth that he was slowly picking apart. Instead, he let it colour the carpet crimson. Occasionally, ripping off a digit, a jet of red would spurt out, splashing the wall.

The screams that ripped through Daniel’s throat concealed the sound of flesh and skin and bone tearing away from each other as Dracula tore his left arm away.

“Never again will you wrap your arms around my [First].”

Daniel was close to fainting. No longer bearing toes or fingers or an arm. He was bleeding profusely. The pain throbbed through his whole body. It was so intense that every other sense was drowning away.

Next came his other arm, torn off wth just as much vigour and he collapsed to his knees, sobbing.

“I don’t think so.”

Digging his hands into the blond locks, Dracula pulled him back up to his feet. His nails cut into the skin, blood flowing over his fingers. How he was able to withstand the stench of the blood, he didn’t know.

“Stay there.”

Dracula stood back to admire his work. Blood was seeping down Daniel’s face, mixing with his tears, dripping from his chin. Where his arms should have been, blood was pouring, too. The white of the bones where his arms should have connected poked out, flesh rugged and torn. Mangled strands of muscle flailed as the body shook with the terror, the shock, the sobs, the screams of utter agony. He was finding it hard to stand with the lack of his toes, each little space where the toe should be losing blood by the second, the whites of the bones also showing.

Dracula snarled, moving forwards once more. Daniel recoiled, but Dracula reached out to grab his nose. A disgusting crack filled the room, followed by a high-pitched, pain filled scream. Dracula twisted, feeling the cartilage crack and bend to his will. He pulled. A long strand of skin, from the bridge of his nose to the top of his hairline came off with the cartilage. Blood erupted from the gaping hole in his face and his eyes rolled back. He collapsed to the ground.

But, he was still conscious.

Dracula took his time dismembering the rest of his body, and then sat for a while, picking the flesh off of the bone, as if bored. He was slumped against the radiator, which was hot against his back. His raven locks were dripping crimson, specks of the same colour on his face. The white shirt was stained a deep red all over and he knew that the moment he left this room, he’d cause uproar.

The room was beginning to really stink of blood and there were chunks of flesh everywhere, over every piece of furniture, the walls, the ceiling. The only thing still intact was his head, resting on the sofa, nose and ears gone, blood oozing from the bottom. Dracula had really made a mess.

His eyes snapped open.

What had he just done...?

What would you say when you found out?

~^*^~

If the fire in the middle of the room wasn’t a cause for concern, the naked vampire standing next to it definitely was.

“Jesus!” Jack cried out, covering his eyes with his hand, “did you suddenly forget that nudism isn’t exactly accepted in the 21st century?”

“Actually, I just had to do a little airing out with some of my clothes.” Dracula explained.

“Is that why you’re having a bonfire in the middle of the apartment?”

“Something like that.” Dracula turned away from Jack, who refused to uncover his eyes.

It was late, and he had simply come to tell Dracula that you were safely dropped off. He wanted to go home almost straight away, but something about the scene he had just walked into made him have a feeling that something wasn’t right.

“Why...?”

“I just told you-“

“No, why are you burning those clothes...? What did you do to them...?”

“I will tell you, Jack, but, you must promise not to fall out with me.” Dracula turned back to him and Jack uncovered his eyes, but held out his hand to block Dracula’s... well, you know, from his vision. The look of disgust was evident on his face.

“Dracula, what did you do?”

“I killed Daniel.”

Jack froze up in shock. Dracula had gone to Daniel’s apartment? Oh god, what was he going to tell you? Was Dracula out of his mind or was he just driven by stupidity? Of course, you were currently in a place of hating Daniel, but for him to be killed by Dracula...

“Again, why...?” Jack asked warily.

“Because he hurt [First].”

“You’re crazy.” Jack whispered.

“Funny, that was one of Daniel’s last words.”

“She won’t forgive you.” Jack stated, stepping backwards towards the door.

“...I know.”

“I’m gonna-“

“Don’t tell her.”

“I have to, Dracula.”

Before he could make it to the door, Dracula had gotten ahold of him, and pinned him against the wall by his neck. The look in his eyes was deranged.

“Don’t.” Dracula growled.

But it didn’t matter if Jack told you or not, because your mother had just received a phone call, and was rushing up the stairs in tears to break some very bad news to you.

~^taglist^~

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[rawmeanderson]

bring you back to me ― part ix

ft. jeff skinner plot: when your high school sweetheart gets traded to the same city where you now live and work, your best friend just can’t mind her own business ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ warnings. swearing, drinking/drunkenness, all sorts of nsfw stuff 👏🏻 word count: 7.4k notes at the end! also, a maaaaasive shoutouts go to @ferraromarios​, @drunkduncs​, and @capobiancos​ for being such good, supportive friends 💖 visit my masterlist (there’s a link in the description!) to sign up for email alerts or to view the master document with all parts of the fic for easy binge reading!!

“God fucking dammit,” Lydia mutters after someone a few tables over called bingo, earning a dirty look from the older lady at the table ahead of you. You snort softly, reaching for your mimosa as Lydia continues to mutter under her breath.

“I don’t know why we keep coming here, you always end up so angry,” you tease, grinning as she rips of the top sheet of her cards.

“It’s boozy bingo, y/n, it’s worth the anger,” she says, looking at you like you should know that. Your only response is to finish off the rest of your drink, putting the empty glass down next to your cards to pick up your dauber. 

Saturday afternoon boozy bingo was a staple for you and Lydia, but it was the first time you’d been back in a while. The brunch was good, but you mostly showed up for $1 mimosas and bloody marys, while Lydia was there for the bingo. She got wildly competitive during the game, and her trash talking had almost gotten you thrown out on a couple occasions. Honestly, the entertainment watching Lydia’s frustration build and build as the games went on made it all worth it.

Peter was with you today, since he was in town for a few more days. Since it was between games, he went up to the bar to grab drinks, including another mimosa for you.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while,” you tell her, nudging her under the table as you pout at her. A quiet chatter had started between games, and you were glad to have a minute alone with your best friend.

“Yeah, I know,” she responds, sighing as she pushes her hair out of her face. “Since my sister’s been out of town a lot for work, I’ve been having to take Mom to her appointments and stuff, and I’ve just been absolutely drained from it.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you get a double dose of me today, right?” you ask, winking when she looks at you and you both laugh. The two of you were going to the game that night to see the Sabres play the Sharks. 

Peter returns a second later, putting two mimosas down in front of you and you shoot him a thumbs up.

“Good call, bud,” you tell him, already reaching for one.

“I figured you might need the extra to help drown out this one,” he responds, pointing at Lydia with a grin. Lydia gave him the finger as he puts a bloody mary down in front of her. “Watch it, or I’ll spit in the next one.” You grimace at his warning even though it wasn’t directed to you, and you straightening up in your seat as the next game starts.

Between numbers, you sip at your drink and glance at your phone, figuring that Jeff is probably taking his pre-game nap by now. Tipsy already, the thought of climbing into bed with him for a nap is very appealing, but not worth leaving Lydia and Peter.

You had stayed at your own place last night, watching Jeff’s game in Detroit from your couch. Jeff had to be up early for a work out and press stuff before the game, and you’d used your morning to clean up around the house and to catch up on laundry. You’d even dug your suitcase out of your closet, knowing you needed to start packing soon since you and Jeff were leaving for your brother’s wedding in four days.

After bumping into Peter a few nights earlier, the two of you and Lydia had been able to make plans for Saturday afternoon, and here you were. You had pushed your hardest to go putt-putt-ing, but you were out voted in favor of boozy bingo. 

Lydia is a number away from winning, nibbling on the end of the celery from her bloody mary as her eyes bounce over her cards. She’s murmuring the number she needs to herself and toying with the ends of her hair with tense shoulders.

“Is she always like this?” he asks when you look at him, voice low and almost concerned. Grinning, you nod, nearly laughing because you hadn’t realized he’d never been to bingo with her before.

“Yeah, she’s nearly got bingo down to an art form if you ask me,” you respond, sipping at your drink.

“I can hear you,” Lydia says with a grin, not even looking up from her cards.

In the end, none of you won anything, but you had more than your fair share of mimosas.You and Lydia had each been planning to rideshare home, but thankfully, Peter offered to play taxi driver since he hadn’t been drinking. Lydia was worse off than you and pissed that she hadn’t won anything, making her a damn near lethal combination. 

“I swear, those old bitches cheat somehow,” she mutters as you approach Peter’s rental car. You laugh, nodding to appease her as she climbs in the backseat. You take shotgun, and Peter grins at you as he starts up the car. 

“It’s like I never left, right?” he asks and you nod as Lydia continues to rant from the backseat. It was true though. Peter, never much of a drinker, had often played DD for you and Lydia in the time you’d known each other, and having him there again felt like nothing had changed. 

Lydia’s place was closer, so she was dropped off first. As she steps out of the car, you roll your window down, reminding her to set an alarm so she wouldn’t oversleep and miss dinner and the game later. She thanks you, calling you ‘mom’ teasingly. Considering you’re drunk, it’s extra funny and sends you into a fit of laughter. Lydia threw a peace sign up before turning to make her way to her building, and you and Peter stay put to make sure she gets to the door without tripping or managing to fall over.

Satisfied that Lydia was safely inside, Peter pulled away from the curb, glancing at you. “You’re gonna have to tell me where to go,” he tells you.

You snort, shaking your head. “Shit, you know I have no sense of direction, so let’s see how this goes,” you joke, sitting up in your seat a little more. “Turn left up here, head toward downtown.”

Peter laughs, turning on his blinker on as he nods. The two of you are quiet for a few moments aside from you giving the occasional direction before starting in with a bit of small talk. You ask about his new office, how he’s adjusting to being in a new city, and he says he’s enjoying it, that he’s happy he made the move even if it did put him far from family.

“Have you found friends to replace Lydia and me yet?” you ask, trying to decide which would be the best route to get to Jeff’s from where you were then. 

“Nah, impossible, really,” he admits, glancing at you with a grin.

“Well, shucks,” you tease, laughing as you push your hair back out of your face. Jeff still didn’t seem to be awake since he hadn’t answered any of your messages from earlier, and the thought of climbing into bed with him made you feel warm and soft all over. “Take a right up here, that way’s probably quicker.”

“The fuck do you mean, probably?” Peter questions, making you crack up all over again. “So, correct me if I’m wrong, but Jeff Skinner, the professional hockey player, is your boyfriend, and you didn’t even tell me about it?” 

“Yeah,” you respond, trying to look apologetic for not telling him but you just ended up grinning like an idiot at the mere mention of Jeff. “I’can’t believe Lydia didn’t tell you, this is the result of her handiwork.” 

Peter’s not even surprised by that. “So, are you going to tell me how all of this happened, or what?”

You snort then, shrugging as you continue to smile. “I’ve known Jeff for as long as I can remember really. He played hockey with my brother when we were little, our families are friends. We dated for a while in high school, then he got drafted and went to North Carolina. Now eight years later, he got traded here and Lydia tricked me into going to a game, and here we are.”

“Shut the fuck up, that’s some rom-com shit, honestly,” he says, glancing at you with a look of teasing disbelief. “He’s a good guy though?”

The question makes you smile. Peter had always been one to look after both you and Lydia, and you’re glad to see that the distance hadn’t changed that. “The best, really. He always has been,” you assure him and he nods. “We’ve probably moved kind of fast, but it’s been so easy, like we just picked up where we left off.”

“Good. You’re happy, I can tell. I’ve never seen you light up like that when you talk about someone,” he tells you, looking over at you quickly before changing lanes. 

Feeling your cheeks burn with a flush, you cross the subject. “Enough about me, what about you, huh? Have you been dating at all?” you question, raising an eyebrow as you glance over at him. 

Peter laughs, shaking his head immediately. “No, not at all, honestly. I just feel like I haven’t had any time to even try. I’m trying to make friends first, then go from there,” he admits, and you nodding in understanding.

“Yeah, I know what you mean, that was me a couple years ago,” you way with a sympathetic smile. You spot Jeff’s building and quickly point it out to Peter. “It’s that one! Just drop me off where you can, I guess.”

Peter pulls to the curb, and you unfasten your seatbelt before turning to hug him over the center console. He hugs you back tightly, and when you pull away, you’re smiling.

“Have a good trip home tomorrow, and please, let us know when you’re in town next!” you say, making sure you’ve got your phone and keys before opening the door. 

“Don’t worry, I will,” he promises as you climb out of the car. He waves as you close the door, and you do the same before heading toward the door.

In your drunken state, it takes a moment for you to figure out which key you need to use, then another to fit it into the lock to get into the lobby. You doubt Jeff is awake yet, but you text him to tell him you’re in the lobby anyway, and you press the up button on the elevator repeatedly in impatience.

You ran into the same delay with your keys outside Jeff’s door, and you nearly trip as you step into his apartment. It’s quiet and you hush yourself softly while toeing off your shows. Knowing you’d left a hamper of clean clothes in the laundry room, you stop there first to change into leggings and one of Jeff’s shirts, fully intent on being lazy and cozy until you had to leave for the game later.

Jeff’s bedroom door is partially open when you approach it a moment later, and you smile to yourself when you see him in bed. He’s shirtless, blankets pulled up to his chest and he’s sprawled out, looking so sweet and relaxed. You cross the room and slip under the sheets with him, the shifting of the bed making him sigh quietly in his sleep. Staying still for a moment, you listen to the even sound of his breathing before leaning over him enough to kiss his chest lightly. 

He stirred a little, grumbling as he brought a hand up to run over your hair. Smiling to yourself, you kiss higher, along his neck and he loops an arm around you as you finally kiss his mouth.

“Hi,” you murmur, pulling back to look down at him.

“Hey,” he responds, sounding groggy as he turns his head to yawn. “What time is it?”

“Almost 2,” you say, pressing another kiss to his mouth before shifting to straddle him. He looks up at with a sleepy grin as you drape your body over his. “Did you have a good nap?” Jeff nods, tilting his head up enough to kiss you again. You feel warm all over, absolutely giddy just to be there with him. 

“Did you have a good time gambling and day drinking?” he asks and you snort, laughing as you nod back at him. You reposition yourself just slightly, hips pressing down against his in a way that makes electricity shoot up your spine.

“Yeah, it was fun. Lydia drank more than I did, so she was all fired up about losing,” you tell him, moving down his body more and kissing his collarbone.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating in his chest. “Yeah, I’m sure she was,” he responds, bringing a hand up to push your hair back out of your face. He toys with the strands idly as you move lower again, kissing down his chest as you glance up at him. “What are you doing?” A crooked grin settles on his face that you mirror back to him. 

“Haven’t decided yet,” you murmur, kissing his stomach as you toy with the waist of his sweatpants. He chuckles softly, nodding and tucking a hand behind his head as he watches you. Looking up at him, you bite your lip while shifting to kneel between his knees.

“We’ve got a couple of hours to figure it out,” he teases, and you grin, humming in agreement as you kiss the line of his hip.

“Don’t think I’ll need that long,” you respond, bringing a hand up to brush your knuckles over the hardening line of his cock. Looking up at him through your lashes, you kiss just above the band of his pants. His abs tense at the light touch of your lips, making you smirk.

When his hand tightens into a fist at his side, you can’t help the soft chuckle that leaves you. Moving lower, your lips ghost over the obvious bludge of his cock and he swears under his breath, hips twitching with the effort to keep still as he watches you.

“Christ, are you trying to make me beg for it?” he asks, and you look up in time to see him practically squirming in place.

You bite your lip again in an attempt to hide the grin that spread across your face, shrugging as you tilt your head to one side. “I haven’t ruled it out,” you say in an attempt to sound coy. Jeff cursed then, letting his head fall back against the pillow, and you laugh quietly, shaking your head. “So impatient.” Your words come as you tsk softly, and he nods in response, exhaling a breath.

Jeff brings a hand up to push your hair out of your face so he can look at you, a tender motion that never fails to make you shiver. You glance up to make eye contact with him before giving in and starting to tugs his sweats down his hips. He lets out a relieved sigh, lifting his hips lazily to help you out, and your mouth follows the path of the fabric, kissing his newly exposed skin. 

With his cock free, your hand moves quickly, stroking him slowly from base to tip with a hum. He twitches against your palm, and he twists the sheets in his fist when your head tilts to trace the vein the runs up his shaft with your tongue. Your mouth is practically watering by the time your lips close enough the head of his cock, sucking lightly before pulling off. A sound of frustration leaves him and your grin reappears.

“You ready to beg yet, or should I keep teasing?” you ask, eyebrow raised as you stroke him again slowly. He hisses, hips rocking toward your hand as his brows knit together. His chest is flushed, the color rising higher and he whines your name so quietly that you can barely hear it.

“Fuuuck, y/n. Please, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice low. He’s watching you intently, eyes on your hand that’s wrapped around his dick as it continues to move in lazy strokes. You raise an eyebrow and wait for him to continue, loving the way he’s absolutely squirming. “Goddammit, I need your mouth, please.”

Jeff’s getting whinier with each passing second and it’s far too hot to say no to. You stroke him a few more times, loving the sound of him panting for you, cheeks flushed, before closing your lips around the head of his cock again. He makes a sound like the wind’s been knocked out of him, and it does wonders for your ego. 

“Holy shit, thank you,” he says, sounding breathless already as you take him deeper in your mouth. His hand leaves his side to come up to your hair, tangling in the strands as he pulls it away from your face. “You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth.” The words leave him so casually that it makes you moan, pulling back enough to soothe your tongue over the slit at the head of his dick.

You start bobbing your head in slow movements, taking him deep enough that your gag reflex is almost triggered. He groans, the sound leaving him slowly as his hips press up toward you. Your clit is throbbing between your thighs then, and you can feel how slick you are when you shift. Bringing a hand up to rest on his thigh, you let your nails drag over his skin lightly as you bob your head, taking your time to let him slip deeper down your throat. 

A slew of curses leaves him when you swallow around him, his hand tightening in your hair as his hips twitch toward your mouth again. You can taste pre-cum at the back of your tongue and you groan around him, relaxing your jaw as you take him deep enough that your nose is pressing against his pelvis. 

Jeff makes a punched out sound, murmuring that he loves you, and when you glance up at him, he’s still watching you closely. You nearly pull off him, taking a breath and teasing along a vein with the tip of your tongue. He’s tense, practically slack-jawed as he keeps his eyes on you.

You love when he’s like this, putty in your hands (or mouth to be more specific) like you’re the only thing in the world that he’s ever wanted. His flush has moved up his neck and he’s breathing heavily, groaning as you bob your head shallowly. The sounds he makes never fail to make your pussy throb, and when you lean over him more, you can tell that you’ve already soaked through your panties.

“Baby, unless you want me cumming down your throat, you should stop,” he warns before you’ve even let him slip down your throat again.

You pull off, lifting your head to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “I mean, I don’t hate the sound of that,” you tease, stroking his cock slowly in the absence of your mouth on him.

He curses softly, head falling back against the pillow while murmuring something about you trying to kill him and you laugh, leaning forward to kiss his stomach once before pulling back.

You get to your feet on shaky legs, grinning at him as you pull your shirt off over your head, unclipping your bra a second later and letting the fabric drop to the floor. Jeff manages to tear his eyes away from you long enough to nudge his sweats off and grab a condom while you slip out of your leggings. You nearly trip as you get your panties and leggings off completely, and you laugh as you catch your balance. 

“You okay?” Jeff asks, glancing at you with a wide smile on his face as he rips he condom open. 

“Yep, never better,” you respond, smiling as you push your hair out of your face. Returning to the bed, you lean over him, pressing a firm kiss to his mouth. You swing your leg over his hip as he rolls the condom down onto his length, his eyes taking in the sight of your body over his again. 

One of Jeff’s hand comes up to rest on your waist, leaning up enough to kiss you again, while the other slips between your legs. A low groan leaves you as his fingers slide through your folds, hips immediately canting down against his hand.

“Fuck, Jeff,” you breathe, a whimper catching in your throat. He hums in appreciation when your wetness coats his fingers, toying with your clit to make you squirm over him.

“God, you’re always so fucking wet after sucking my cock,” he murmurs, voice low as he looks up at you. His fingers are sliding through your folds effortlessly, teasing at your entrance, and you groan his name again, grinding against his hand eagerly. 

Making an impatient sound, you shift, hand slipping between your bodies to guide his cock to your entrance. Your touch makes him curse softly, his lips parting as his eyes drop down to watch his cock sink into you as your hips lower toward his.

“Shit, y/n,” he groans, head falling back against the pillow with a content sigh. His hands move to your hips, resting there as you sink onto him further. 

You’d forgotten how much you love riding him, how he makes you feel so full as he looks up at you like you’ll disappear if he looks away. Your thighs are tense and you bite your lip, your hands pressing against his chest as your hips lower a little more, and a moan catches in your throat. His thumb brushes idly over your skin, the other hand moving higher over your waist until he’s cupping your breast in his palm.

Leaning over him, hands resting on either side of his head, you kiss him as your hips roll down against his. He moans into your mouth, hand sliding from your hip to your ass, squeezing you there as his thumb drags over your nipple. You shiver, melting against him with a wanton groan as you try to settle into a rhythm. The head of his cock hits your g-spot with the next motion of your hips, making you tighten around him.

You’re doing your best as you try to keep focused on easy rhythm you’ve set, pussy throbbing around his length as you sit up again. Hands resting on his chest, you bite your lip playfully, grinning down at him as you grind against him rougher than before. A gasp slips from you, given the friction of your clit against his pelvic bone, and Jeff hums, eyes sliding over your frame as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. 

“Mm, sweetheart,” he breaths, squeezing your ass as your hips grind into his again, the friction too good to stop chasing. “Fuck, that’s good.” You nod quickly, panting out a curse as you tilt your head back to get your hair out of your face. 

It surprises you when Jeff fucks up into you, a whine slipping past your lips as your hips slam down to meet his. He curses loudly, the grip on you ass tightening and guiding your hips forward against his again. You can tell that you’re soaked, making the slide of his cock in and out of you easy and downright sinfully good. 

“Come here,” Jeff says, voice low as he pulls you down to him easily. You chuckle, grinning as you lean over him again, hips never slowing as you continue to rock against him. His hand slips into your hair, keeping it back from your face and tangling in the strands as he kisses you.

You moan, whining as his teeth catch on your bottom lip. Your clit is begging for attention and a jolt runs down your spine to your core as he tugs at your nipple. “Oh, fuck, I love you,” you pant, the words exhaled into his mouth before you’re kissing him again desperately. You’re close, toes curling as your hand slips between your bodies to help yourself along.

The extra friction makes you cry out, mouth leaving his as you try to catch your breath. His mouth moves to your neck, finding the spot that always takes your breath away, then moving down to your collarbone. He tugs at your hair, not enough to hurt but enough that you gasp, the sound fading into a whine as his mouth moves over your chest. Your movements have grown more erratic, searching for the perfect combination of friction to send you over the edge.

As good as it feels to have his mouth on you and to be kissing him, you sit up again, knowing the angle is just that much better. It only takes a few rocks of your hips to have you groaning in satisfaction, leaning back slightly and resting a hand on his thigh for support while still rubbing your clit. Jeff’s eyes are glued to you as his hand comes nudges yours out of the way toy with the swollen bundle of nerves himself. You don’t stop him, a smirk sliding onto your face briefly before your mouth falls open with a moan.

“God, Jeff, that’s so fucking good,” you whimper, thighs shaking as he fucks up into you and hitting your g-spot in a way that makes you gasp. The bed is squeaking slightly with the movement of you, mixing with the sounds you’re each making.

It didn’t surprise you when your orgasm washed over you a moment later, knowing how easy it was for him to just completely unravel you. You cried out, head falling back as you try to keep the motion of your hips going. It’s more difficult than you expected, moaning his name as you grind down against him roughly. 

He nods beneath you, brow creased in concentration as his thumb continues to rub firm circles against your clit. Leaning forward slightly, your hands press against his chest and you can tell from the look in his eye that he’s close as well. Your nails dig into skin, making him hiss and groan that he loves you. The rustling of fabric beneath you gives way to his pressing his foot into the mattress for leverage, as he grips your hip with one hand. 

Jeff fucks up into you at the perfect angle to make you go still, desperate for him to keep hitting that same spot. Reduced to whimpering, your eyes squeeze shut, body still as his hips slam up into yours. The sound of skin on skin, his heavy breathing, and your breathless whines filled the room, and you could feel that you’d each worked up a bit of a sweat. A chill runs through your body like electricity, making you shudder as your orgasm starts to fade.

Your pussy is still tight around him when his thumb leaves your clit before he’s tugging you down to him more. He pressed his face into your neck, breathing hot into your skin and groaning while kissing down to your breasts again. He sighs your name into your chest as he cums a short moment later, grunting roughly as his hips slow until he’s worn out. You move slowly, eager to drag out the last few seconds of pleasure.

Jeff melts into the mattress as he rests his head against the pillow. His eyes are closed and you imagine that if it weren’t for the hand rubbing over your thigh contently, you’d think he’d gone back to sleep already. You don’t pull away just yet, kissing down his chest as you try to catch your breath. He’s so relaxed and you can feel his heart pounding as his hand leaves your thigh.

When he pushes your hair out of your face you look up to see him grinning at you. “Have I told you that I love you recently?” he asks, the words coming slow. His voice was like warm honey and you smile back at him before leaning up enough to press a lingering kiss to his mouth.

“A few times, yeah,” you respond, hips resting down against his as you enjoy the fullness of having him inside you still.

“Mm, gotcha,” he says, toying with the ends of your hair and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You only came once, didn’t you?” His brow creases slightly when you nod.

“Yeah, but trust me, I am a very satisfied customer,” you assure him, only to hear him snort with laughter in response. He guides your mouth back to yours, and you can feel him smiling as he kisses you. It’s slow at first, but when his tongue slides over yours, you feel your clit throb.

“Want me eat you out?” he asks, his mouth barely leaving yours. The words seem so casual and you groan, tightening around him enough that he cursed under his breath. It only takes another second before you’re nodding, moaning into his mouth as he starts to untangle himself from you.

Jeff turns you over onto your back easily and pulls out before kissing you hard before getting to his feet. Legs still open for him, you watch the muscles of his torso move as he discards the condom. Your hand slips between your thighs impatiently, and when he follows the motion of your hand, he smirks, tugging you an inch or two closer by the ankle. 

He climbs back onto the bed, getting settled on his stomach between your thighs. After moving your hand away from your clit, he sucks your fingers into his mouth briefly, smirk never leaving. Guiding your legs over his shoulders, he groaned loudly at the sight of you. You knew you were absolutely soaked, and when you felt his tongue sweep through your sensitive folds a second later, your hips twitched toward his mouth.

His mouth is hot against you and your hand moves to his hair, fingers tangling in his short curls. You tug at the strands, nails brushing over his scalp to make him hum in approval. It’s impossible to stop yourself from squeezing your thighs around his head as you whimper, hips rocking easily against his mouth. He swings an arm over you to keep you still, leaning into you more while he licks from your entrance, up to your clit, then back slowly. You realize he’s cleaning you up and you relax back into the mattress as your heel digs into the back of his shoulder.

Jeff’s tongue is still moving slowly through your folds, just taking his time and you watch him with heavy lidded eyes. The damp heat of his breath hitting your skin had you shivering while your legs shake. Your fingers curl in his hair as you inhale sharply, your other hand dropping to brush light circles against your nipple. 

He’s watching you with dark eyes, watching the way you tease at your breast. His pressure changes then, tongue going from slow and lazy to hungry and firm it sinks into you. You try to buck up against him but his arm keeps you in place. A wanton moan leaves you as his tongue fucks into you again before dragging slowly up to your clit again, with the same firmness that has you squeezing your thighs around his head again.

Your thumb brushes over your nipple just as he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking against you quickly and you exhale a desperate sound. “Fuuck, Jeff,” you whine, his name cut short when you cry out as he sinks a finger into you. You can feel yourself shaking, already right there at the edge with how he’d fucked you earlier.

Meeting his eye, you nod weakly and he takes your cue to sink a second fingers into your pussy. Your head falls back against the sheets as your back arches, and when his digits curl against your g-spot, you let out a string of curses. He can tell that you’re getting close and he releases your clit, taking a second to breathe before teasing at your clit again. You had abandoned the idea of toying with your nipple, far too consumed by the soft sounds of his mouth working against you.

His fingers are deep inside you, scissoring slightly and always making sure to hit your g-spot, and your legs tighten around his shoulders. Squirming, you again find yourself trapped by his arm and you make a frustrated noise that makes him pull away from you slightly.

“Cum for me, baby,” he tells you, already leaning back to seal his lips around your clit again.

Your whines build and build, eyes squeezing shut as his fingers fuck into you, and you topple over the edge a second later. You cum with a sharp moan, pulsing tightly around his fingers as Jeff groans against you, fingers still curling inside you. The orgasm is hot and bright, and Jeff guides you through it, murmuring praise every time he’s pull back from you to take a breath.

When you float back down, your eyes are heavy and you finally loosen your grip on Jeff’s hair slightly. His fingers are gone and he’s back to lapping at your folds lazily, making it that much harder to keep yourself from shaking. After another moment, you have to push him away, gasping you try to wiggle away from him. 

Jeff chuckles softly, turning his head to rest against your thigh as he looks up at you. His cheeks are rosy, and when he grins, you can see that his mouth and chin are shiny with you’re wetness. 

“Thought you were drying to suffocate me there for a minute,” he teases, hand sliding along your thigh as he guides your leg off his shoulder. 

Laughing, you nudge him gently with your knee. “Shut up,” you respond, shaking your head as he leans up, pressing a kiss to your stomach. The light touch of his mouth makes you shiver, and you run a fingertip down his nose lightly. You’re trembling slightly, shivering as you try and catch your breath. 

Jeff noses at your ribs, kissing his way up your body. Your hand returns to his hair, smoothing it with a light touch. The longer you stay there, the more relaxed you feel, and you realize that it’d be very easy to doze off. As Jeff’s mouth moved higher, he shifted to lean over you, his body radiating warmth as he kisses you on the mouth. 

When he pulls away, it’s to settle back against the pillows, and he chuckles when you pout at him slightly. “C’mere, lazy,” he says, patting his chest before tugging at your hand to get you to move.

Sighing heavily, you move, curling into his side. Jeff pulls the blankets over both of you and your head settles on your chest.

tt’s easy to doze for the next hour or so, curled up with him. He had turned the TV at one point, but you weren’t conscious enough to really be sure what he was watching. Jeff ordered food, and when he went to open the door, you rolled into the warm spot he’d left behind, enjoying the smell of his shampoo and cologne clinging to the sheets. When he returned, you heard him scoff at the fact that you’d stolen his spot.

He decides to leave you be, turning around to go eat at the table and that’s when you fully drift off. Some time later, Jeff wakes you up by rubbing a hand over your back to tell you that he was leaving for the arena. 

With a warm, sleepy smile you roll onto your side, promising that you’ll see him soon. You kiss him a few times before he stands up and you get the chance to appreciate how good he looks in his suit before he leaves.

Hours later, you’re awake, dressed, and enjoying the game with Lydia. The score was tied by midway through the second period and Jeff had two assists. Sipping at your beer, your eyes are on the ice, but Lydia is practically vibrating next to you. 

There’s a stoppage in play a second later and you look at her with an eyebrow raised. “Go ahead,” you tell her, taking another drink. You’re wearing your jersey tonight with black jeans and booties, and Lydia’s in an Eichel jersey that you feel like you haven’t seen before. 

“What are you talking about?” Lydia asks, brow creasing as she glances up at the scoreboard. 

“You are clearly dying to tell me something, so go ahead,” you respond, laughing slightly. She rolls her eyes, hating that she makes things so obvious.

“I left my bag in Peter’s car, so he stopped by with it after dropping you off,” she says, pausing heavily. It doesn’t take you long to figure out what she’s implying, and you snort, shaking your head.

“Girl, look at you,” you tell her, laughing as you raise your beer to her. “Wait, did you leave your bag in his car on purpose?” 

She snorts, shrugging, and you both double over in laughter. It wasn’t the first time she’d used that move, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

“Not like you can judge. I’d bet $50 that you went straight to Jeff’s to get busy,” she teases, and your response is to shrug, because it’s not like you’d take that bet.

The two of you continued to to chit-chat and drink, enjoying yourselves as the second period wound down. With a little over a minute to go in the period, Jeff took a hit that made you gasp, bringing you to your feet when he didn’t get up immediately. The arena was full of chatter and your heart was thundering in your chest, watching as Jeff finally got up with the help of his teammates. You dropped into your seat as he immediately went down the tunnel, and Lydia was quick to take your hand, holding it tightly. 

You didn’t know what to do, so you sat there, chewing on your lip and bouncing your leg idly. Lydia was quiet, still holding your hand because she wasn’t sure what else to do to help you feel better. Your stomach twists in knots, and you send Jeff a text, unsure of when he’d even have the chance to check his phone.

“Y/n, Twitter says he’s not coming back to the game,” Lydia tells you and you sigh, pushing your hair out of your face. Through most of intermission, you’re silent, staring at your phone and hoping for some sort of news.

It finally came a few minutes into the 3rd period, a text from Jeff, asking you come down to where you usually meet him. Lydia promises that she’ll be fine watching the rest of the game by herself, and you nod, taking off up the stairs just as the Sabres score.

When you see Jeff, seeing that he’s upright and grinning, you’re relieved, putting your arms around him when you’re close enough. He’s freshly showered, and he settles an arm around your shoulder, kissing the top of your head.

“I’m alright, I promise,” he tells you, giving your body a reassuring squeeze. “Knocked the wind out of me pretty bad, and my shoulder hurts like hell, but I’m alright. They don’t think I’ll be out at all.” You nod, finally pulling back to look up at him.

You drove Jeff home and just as you were parking in his garage, you got the notification that Casey scored an empty net goal to seal the win for the Sabres. He was moving a little slower than usual and in the elevator, he was leaning into you. Neither of you said much got in the door, and Jeff immediately headed toward his room. He had mentioned the the trainer had given him some meds, and you could tell he was frustrated about being out for the night, so you gave him some space. 

You busy yourself by tidying up the living room some. Folding a blanket, fluffing the pillows, and a few other meaningless tasks to pass a little bit of time. He had always been quiet after a bad game or something like this, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise.

When you come into the bedroom, he’s already in bed, on his back with one arm draped over his eyes. Jeff doesn’t move as you cross the room to go into the bathroom. You wash your face and brush your teeth before heading back into his room so you can change. After hanging up your jersey, you change into a pair of sweats and one of Jeff’s shirts, and when you turn around, he’s watching you with a sad look in his eye.

“Which side do you want me on?” you ask, giving him a sympathetic smile. He pats his left side and you climb into bed with him. It takes no time at all for him to roll toward you, settling himself under your arm to nuzzle into your collarbone. 

You hardly mind, loving how quickly he curled around you. His breath against you, and your fingers rub lightly of his back as you feel him relax. Turning your head slightly, you kiss the side of his head and he snuggles into your shoulder a little more.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, voice soft as you toy with his hair.

“M’okay,” he mumbles, so pitifully that you chuckle. He exhales a deep sigh before shifting onto his side a little more, but keeping his head where it was on your shoulder. “Just glad we got to 2 points.” You nod, enjoying the way he’s leaning into your touch as you continue to play with his short curls.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to watch something?” Your voice is quiet, just hoping there’s something you can do to help him feel better.

“Not hungry, but you can put something on if you want. Can’t promise I’ll stay up for long though, I’m already pretty drowsy,” he says, tipping his head up to look at you. He looks sleepy, and you nod, pressing an easy kiss to his mouth before you reach for the remote. 

“No preference what I put on then?” 

“Nah, not really,” he says, settling his head on your chest again as you start scrolling through Netflix. You’re both quiet for a moment as you start an episode of Derry Girls, and with the sound of Jeff’s even breathing, you think he’s asleep already, so it surprises you when he speaks again. “Are you ready for next weekend?”

You don’t answer right away, but a second later, you nod. “Yeah, I think so. I’m kind of nervous too, but I don’t really know why,” you admit, shrugging as you keep your eyes on the tv. Knowing you probably wouldn’t bother staying up much later, you turn off the lights, grateful for the fancy tech in Jeff’s room that allows you to do it from your phone. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he says, his arm tightening around your waist. “I’m excited though, for everyone to know about us.” You smile warmly to yourself and hum in agreement.

“Me too. I’m still a little nervous, but I know it’ll be a good weekend. It’ll be nice to see everybody.”

“Mhm. Just a few more days now. Are you still coming to the game Wednesday? Figured we could leave straight from the arena,” he says, words coming slower and slower.

“Works for me,” you tell him, starting to play with his hair again. He nods, yawning before settling into you even more. 

It’s no surprise that he dozes off shortly after, and you don’t stay up much later, just long enough to finish the episode you’d started. Once you turn off the tv, you lay there in the dark, enjoying the sound of Jeff’s breathing and the warmth of his body pressed against yours. It’s easy to get to sleep that night.

TA-DUH!!! I really like this chapter guys, and I hope you do as well!!! next chapter starts the 4 chapter long section of being at the wedding and i’m so excited to start working on those chapters! 

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Confessions of a Coffee-Eater | 02

Genre: Smut, College/University AU

Pairing: Student!/Poet!Namjoon x Student!/Poet!

Warnings: sub!Namjoon gets a handjob in the classroom during a lecture, allusion to smoking

Summary: It is in hard times beautiful things can occur and the addiction of primal instincts be suppressed in their proximity. However, when two souls from different social worlds meet in a poetry class, any former urges gain a new direction.

Some of which are sensual in emotion.

And may not be reciprocated.

Masterlist

Previous part / Next part

There is a lyric which dictates that “sorry” seems to be the hardest word and last night while pondering a way to offer sincere apologies for the unintentional harassment the true meaning came forth as the song played on the radio. Replayed itself again and again as a pen twisted between fingers free from the engraving ink on skin, waiting for any potential customers. The last of the twilight cigarette smoke dissipated before settling into the corner of the back office to catch a few hours of sleep since the last hours of the night shift are dead in business.

The sole idea is offering a cup of anything but fantastic coffee from one of the machines spread around the building and hope a listening ear will be given to a remorseful poor man from Ilsan. A concept that becomes more and more terrifying with each step advancing towards the university building outside the city centre that both students and professors complain about, especially with having to attend and give morning lectures.

The cafeteria is bland like the rest of the dated interior which makes one think more of a high school than a proper academic environment, the only attempt at enlivening the area being the crisp white picnic tables standing in a neat row against an ugly brick wall between the stairs and the guard’s booth. Across from the still empty benches sits the wronged woman, engrossed in noting something down and thus not paying any attention to the anxious onyx beanie passing by towards the tiny coffee corner.

Ignorant to the split second of stopping to simply gaze for a little bit at how flowing hair falls over the shoulder clad in nighttime fabric, the outfit of the day not out of place in an office as the blouse on top of monotone pants and made more interesting with golden accents in the form of a belt and watch radiate a chic mood.

She’s way out of my league. But still, I have to apologize.

Bearing the thought in mind, begotten in that instance of allowing romantic fascination without perverse intent to overtake body and soul, the debit card with little money on it is used to pay for two cappuccinos. Fortunately, last night’s tips make up for the expense so some groceries, later on, will have to be paid for in cash.

The coffees in hand, slowly the table at which Y/N is still working on something is approached while trying to keep breathing under control and composure steady. Notwithstanding, it crumbles to reveal a hint of panic when the busily scribbling pen is put down and eyes look from the page to the steaming cup of caffeine to a well-meaning man in a denim jacket beneath a grey vest with a brown collar.

A slim finger points at one of the bright yellow cups on the table. ‘Is that for me?’

‘Y- Yeah.’ A hand automatically rises to rub the back of the neck, gaze slightly averted to hide cheeks burning as the temperature inside seems to rise. ‘I want to say sorry. For yesterday, because what I- I shouldn’t have done what I did bu- but I couldn’t-’

‘Namjoon. That’s your name, right?’ The inquiry halts the apologetic stammering waterfall likely leading nowhere, a brief nod confirming the assumption. ‘It’s fine.’

‘But I looked at-’

‘Really, it’s okay.’ A welcoming hand gestures casually at the chair of which the back has been unconsciously gripped tightly, knuckles turning white. Strangely, though it could have been due to still being half-asleep, the same motioning fingers appear to want to reach out but can barely withhold themselves. A silly idea, judging by the even voice continuing to speak. ‘Have a seat. We still got a bit of time before we need to go. If you want to, of course.’

Without a second thought, any outerwear is draped over the offered seat before rapidly plopping down. Apparently doing so with much eagerness for a stunned breathless laugh escapes the girl about to take a sip of the peace offering. ‘Thank you, Miss.’

‘Miss?’ An inquisitive eyebrow raises, the unconsciously made mistake only realized too late.

Lips part in panic, wanting to protest yet all words fail to string themselves into a proper excuse. ‘I- I mean- I didn’t mean to- Y- Y/N, I swear I-’

‘Namjoon,’ kind digits wrap around the nautical map covering tensed muscles bared from beneath denim, ‘take a deep breath. Like that. There you go. Good b- Good.’

The slip of the tongue is laughed off, locks shaking slightly in unjust embarrassment fueling a heart truly wanting to shrink before vanishing from the earth entirely. 

Or so it did want to, the warmth in the chest now spreading its rosy glow throughout while repeating the error over and over mentally.

I’m pleasing her. She wanted to say I’m her good boy. I can be. I am. I am your good boy, Y/N.

‘Uhm, are you alright?’ The digits that retracted in a fashion wrongly perceived as trembling reach out again, slightly shaking the feather resting eternally on skin. The warmth of the palm perfectly enveloping it is comforting, a steady beacon guiding consciousness back to reality. 

Away from the perverse thought of that same hand pinning an absent-minded poor soul to the mattress in the same manner. Henceforth, albeit with a suppressed jolt of surprise as if waking from a dream, sight gradually focuses on the beautiful woman wearing a concerned expression. ‘Huh, what?’

‘You were spacing out.’ A whimper can barely be silenced before being made audible at feeling the light squeeze asking for attention, fast-beating heart skipping beats. Once again distracted by the contact and the lips that want to be experienced from up close instead of far away. 

Yet sharply sane enough to muster a half-hearted excuse blaming the morning for the ridiculous behaviour. ‘Oh, ehm, yeah. I’m fine. It’s early.’

What am I doing? She doesn’t know me and I don’t really know her. I need to get a grip on myself.

‘Fortunately, there’s coffee to wake us up.’ The worry melts away into gentle kindness, leaving digits creating a cold wake as they wrap around the bright yellow cardboard cup bearing the university’s logo. But not chilling the honest man turned into a lovesick puppy mimicking the normalcy of drinking coffee while ignoring the pooling heat below.

We still have some time and I can’t move until I’ve calmed down. She shouldn’t know what she does to me, not yet. Not... ever.

‘Can I ask you something?’ To keep the conversation flowing, an innocent desire appears to form the lead to follow. Awkwardly shuffling to hide the strain in jeans, voice is kept as steadily as possible regardless of shyness overtaking demeanour slowly. 

‘Sure. Fire away.’

‘What were you penning down earlier? I- I saw you... uhm, just now- I saw you write something in your notebook.’

Why did I stutter? Why is she looking like that? Oh God, what do I do?

‘And you don’t suppose it actually has to do with the course?’ The sarcastic chuckle on the rim of the cup has a strangely flattered undertone, almost to be called endeared. 

Withholding innermost personal emotions. 

That circulate beneath the indecipherable surface of breathtaking affectionate irises locking gazes with genuine curiosity. ‘Why would it at this hour? It’s just a random thought more than a poem but then again, so is all my poetry. If it can be even called that.’ However, all playfulness fades into under-the-breath muttering as melancholia takes over and Y/N’s focus moves away to finish the cheap warm drink. ‘Just an amalgamation of thoughts.’

A loathsome sight to a boy with love for a woman whom he barely knows yet wants to ensure the happiness of. 

Without being aware of it, a hand glides over the thigh clad in obsidian as speech becomes urgent. ‘Hey, don’t talk like that. I’m sure it’s good.’

And moves away as if burned by fire when the intimacy is noticed thanks to a tilt of the head, enchanting eyes leaning to the side in rather odd fascination. ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry. Still, may- No, what am I saying? Y/N, I didn’t-’

‘Namjoon, it’s alright.’ Softly smiling fingers brush over shivering honey skin, gliding over it and drawing intricate calming patterns over inked stories to still the panic. ‘I don’t mind.’

‘Y- You don’t?’

‘No, I don’t. Please, say what you wanted to say.’

The bottom lip is briefly worried between teeth, a sigh rolling off the tongue when deciding to speak up at last in spite of wanting to disappear, be swallowed whole by the onyx beanie hiding earthly brown locks in dire need of a cut. ‘May I read it?’

‘Promise you won’t judge? You seem to know a great deal more than I about the genre.’ Mayhaps unaware of it, the palm resting on the place formerly deemed forbidden is enveloped as much as possible by a smaller one as a tiny thumb caresses the back of it.

Thus for a few seconds stretching into moments we sit, newly met strangers already of a bond with one another that does not touch grounds with that of lovers nor mere friends. It is of a different indescribable nature, testing the waters of uncharted territory.

But it feels safe.

Trusted.

Like a safe haven the map on the arm leads to.

She is my anchor. 

Which is shown by flipping the tables enough that Y/N’s hand rests between those of a poor sod from Ilsan on foreign soil. And it takes all inner strength to not put it on the cheek, to bask in the kindness. ‘Tell you what, I’ll let you read mine if you let me read yours. ‘Fair?’

The last sip of coffee is quickly gulped down before answering with the same confidence that shines bright in illuminated irises. ‘Fair.’

That dim when noticing the time. ‘We have to go.’

For nine o’clock on a September Tuesday will always be too early to analyze poetry.

But never too soon to see her.

‘Let’s go.’

Nine o’clock on a September Tuesday will always be too early to analyze poetry.

But never too soon to see him.

To lean against the deep-voiced mixture of nicotine and cologne wearing glasses with a thick black frame that others shun, ignorantly afraid of the person they deem a delinquent. However, they cannot see the gentle soul beneath a prejudiced exterior, not feel the fast stiffening of muscles that melt away at a pleased hum.

‘Are you still awake?’ A low giggle resonates in the baritone inquiry, having a chance to talk in a short ten-minute break after processing a ton of poetical and theoretical analysis. 

Judging by the sloth-like sensation spreading throughout, the information might not be committed to memory until notes made on the automatic pilot are read through. ‘Barely.’

‘Want to get another coffee?’

‘Mhm, I’d rather sit here.’ A pleased smile naturally carves itself into lips. An odd thing to happen, but there is something in the subdued scent of soap beneath the heavier aromas of musk and tobacco or perhaps the combination of the three that creates a small piece of happiness. ‘Thank you.’

‘For what?’ Regardless of not being able to see Namjoon’s face, lashes fluttering shut, the quizzical look can vividly be imagined behind closed eyes. And it enhances the sense of kind joy, glad to be in the company of a good friend.

Or more. No, less. What are we? What do we mean? Hm, doesn’t matter now. Gods, should have drunk another espresso before heading out the door.

‘For letting me lean against you like this.’ As a sign of honest appreciation and to be more comfortable, the warm tribal jungle of aquatic blue and emerald green is further snuggled up against. ‘I like it.’

‘Don’t fall asleep, though. We’re halfway there.’ For a split second, there is the curious wish or, rather, expectation for the statement to be sealed with a chaste kiss on the top of the head. Withal, to unjust disappointment, it does not come for. It would have been absurd if it had, of course.

And yet the desire keeps gnawing on the inside. 

‘If I do, please wake me up before the professor sees.’ Fortunately, inner sensations can be suppressed by taking on a playful tone barely shy of badly lying. Nevertheless, a sudden memory of a promise erases the thought of being like this outside of the university, huddled together on a couch.

Or between the sheets.

The timid giant spent in the arms of a girl turned weirdly mischievous as of late.

Eyes languidly open, brought back from the equally as sudden and vibrant recalling of the awkward shuffling to apparently hide the endearing hardened shape in jeans. Voice remains even, luckily, when reminding the buff sweetheart of what is due to him as well. ‘Oh, right. I promised I’d let you read my new poem. Hold on, let me grab my notebook.’ 

Perhaps thanks to the fear of being caught red-handed with furiously blushing cheeks, locks immediately duck under the table to rummage around the backpack that is hardly filled with anything. Notwithstanding, the opposite is acted out until the rampant thoughts of a racing heart have calmed down. 

Only to almost start anew when bumping into Joon’s hand upon rising from beneath the piece of furniture.

‘I- I didn’t- Just making sure you wouldn’t get hurt.’ Swiftly, composure crumbles appealingly into haphazard helplessness as the shield against injury is retracted while actively trying not to stutter. 

‘Much appreciated. Truly.’ To quiet the doubt in the fellow poet’s behaviour, an assuring tone naturally slips into soft-spoken smiling speech. And works effectively as a rapidly breathing chest falls slower. 

Once more, comfort is sought by leaning against the jungle-shaded arm, leafing to the correct page before closing eyes again with the risk of falling asleep. ‘Here you go.’

Without waiting for another cue, Namjoon starts reading the poem in the only manner one should read poetry.

As much shame as it may cause.

It has to be done out loud.

‘Youth shouldn’t think

About Death yet it

Contemplates its very

Existence and the relation

Between them.

Why fear something distant?

Distant.

But incredibly close.

Lurking in effervescent ever-

Present shadows.

Waiting patiently.

For Age.

For Chance.

For Fate. 

For Opportunity.

For Time.

For Me.’

A breathless laugh attracts the tall man’s attention. ‘What?’

‘Nothing.’ In spite of partially meaning to mock oneself for the quality of the writing, the sudden outburst is mostly due to the surprising effect a voice, Namjoon’s voice has on the piece of writing. A hand unconsciously comes to rest on a muscled thigh, basking in the warmth and the slight movement leaning into the touch by pressing it against the one secretly wanting more. ‘I just like the way you read poetry. You have a good voice for it. It’s nice to listen to.’

‘Y/N,’ breath hitches in a beautiful whimper when the palm moves slightly upward, ‘people are looking.’

A shrug dismisses the worry, not bothered whatsoever by the ones who have silently cast a peer out on grounds of appearance. None would admit this outright, of course, but it is obvious in behaviour during seminars and lectures. ‘Don’t care.’

‘What if they think we are... you know... together?’

‘We’re all adults here, grownups with a sense of what a relationship entails. Besides, does it matter? Let them think whatever, Namjoon.’ As languidly as a cat, eyes open again to blink a few times before looking up at a flustered tanned face. Mayhaps a misperception, but it seems closer than before. 

He looks adorable. No, what am I doing? Focus! He read your poem, so this is not the time for fantasy.

Moving away a little bit from the intoxication caused by the combination of musk and tobacco, enhanced by the sensation of a big palm enveloping the one wandered more towards the inside of denim, speech is endeavoured to be made steady. Nevertheless, the attempt only succeeds in part as careful guidance testing the waters beneath the table leads to an intenser heat. ‘But what did you think of it?’ 

And ends in boldly being spread out across clothed hardened skin of which the ego rapidly grows breathless. Especially more so when willingly applying pressure, thoroughly enjoying the parting of plush lips risking being heard and expression contorting into laboured concentration. ‘Come on, don’t be shy.’

‘I- Is this what you, ah, ehm, think about in the morning?’ Hips slowly rock against the offender, seeking the desperately needed friction as skin begins to pass the state of glowing and grows dewy.

‘“I was a woman who thought of dead things. All the time. I couldn’t help it.”’ Enough mental stability can be gathered to manage a blank stare signifying ignorance as to where the applicable quote stems from. Forcefully, the ability to pay attention is compelled to be enhanced as the waist is suppressed with a smirk into sitting quietly on the chair. ‘Ah, ah, ah. Sit still before someone catches you. Lidia Yuknavitch said this in The Chronology of Water: A Memoir. And I’ll be honest, I got that quote from Tumblr.’

‘D- Don’t stop.’ All attention is returned to the movements below that have not stopped in the meanwhile, teeth biting down on the lower lip succeeding in nullifying the groan that wants to become audible. 

‘Break time is almost over.’ Time for contact is running out, the chatty professor pacing back towards the lecturer with a steaming cup of cheap coffee. Every second ticks away faster, but the steps in the race towards craved oblivion are too little. On the other hand, it would be a just punishment for the public brashness. 

‘Could we- Can we g-get lunch? Together?’

‘Is that what you want? What you think about?’ The absurdity evokes an amused low chuckle, truly finding joy in seeing the tough yet submissive poet struggle. ‘We just met, Joon.’

‘Y- Yet you let m- me do this, Miss.’ Digits free from tribal ink wrap around the wrist, willing it to remain out of sight beneath the table without stopping. 

What are we doing? We’re basically strangers. But... he held my hand and now we’re doing this. We both want this. This is ridiculous and yet, with the way he calls me that, the power is intoxicating.

And held onto a tad longer, mischief triumphing long enough to find pleasure in the whine at being left hanging high and dry after the squeeze that could have invoked embarrassing euphoria. ‘Not for long, bad boy.’

‘Alright, so! Where were we? Ah, right, why rhyme pleases.’ The professor has returned from the momentous coffee break fully, yellow cup empty and the little caffeine forming enough fuel to make it through the last three quarters filled with poetic analysis. 

Forty-five minutes of swatting away secretive undecorated hands trying to find release, as shameful as it is, by themselves.

To, perhaps, play the part of the devil to the end.

And maybe, just maybe admit to something.

To desire bordering on young love.

To a tribal jungle and nautical map on muscled buff arms.

To him who is clearly struggling.

To Namjoon. 

[kiwisfics]

Trunks x Reader - Friendship

A/N: Local woman who doesn’t know how to make good titles and gets way off topic of the prompt regrets posting writing before she even posts it. I should really read over this again before posting, but if I do, I know I won’t post it. Also, I should really stop writing when I’m dead tired. ANYWAY: here’s this.

1. “I think he wants to punch my face good.”

Warnings: Insinuations of an abusive relationship

—

You hummed happily, your hands propping up your head as you watched your best friends train. Clearly, you had already had your own fair share for the day, not that you planned on letting them have all the fun. Dried blood coated a cut on your forehead and bruises and small scratches littered the rest of your exposed skin, yet you couldn’t be happier.

Any time away from your tumultuous home was more than welcome, not to mention the added joy of being with your closest friends.

Thoughts about your home made you fidgety, reminding you of the inevitable trouble to come when you left your friends.

“Hey!” You caught the boys’ attention, “Let’s go grab something to eat, then I’m tapping in.”

The boys quickly made their way to your side, “You sure you’re up for it [Name]? You’re looking a little tired.”

You narrowed your eyes in Goten’s direction, his only warning before you jumped on his back, pinned his arms with your legs, and pressed your forearm against his throat, “I didn’t quite hear you. Wanna repeat yourself?”

Too your surprise, Goten fell backwards, knocking the breath from your lungs when his weight hit you.

“Hey!” You swiftly kicked him off, trying your hardest to keep your laughter hidden, “What have you been eating? I’m not feeding you!”

“Are you alright?” Trunks offered you a hand up, but he made no attempt to hide his laughter.

In response to his teasing grin, you turned on your heel as you stood, and fell back against Trunks, knocking him back a few steps as you feigned weakness, “No, I think I’m dying. Tell [pet’s Name] I love them.”

“I think she’s dead. Goten, grab her wallet!”

“I knew it!” You stood and glared playfully at Trunks, your nose almost brushing against his as you stared up at him, “You only love me for my money!”

A smug smirk crossed your face as a tint of pink appeared on his cheeks.

“Alright,” Goten pushed the two of you apart lightly, “before this becomes a daytime drama, let’s go get some food.”

X

Hours later, you dragged yourself home, bandages covering the countless scratches across your arms and face at the insistence of your friends, Trunks more than Goten.

“I’m home!” Your voice echoed back to you, no signs of life other than the wiggling body of your [pet] at your feet.

You meandered through the house and into the kitchen to prepare a snack. As you were about to take your first bite, the door slammed open and the angry form of your boyfriend stomped through.

“Where have you been?”

Your shoulders tensed and your hand immediately slipped into your pocket and pulled out your phone. You’d pulled up Trunks in your messages before setting foot in the house, completely prepared for this situation.

“With friends. Why does it matter?” You were more than capable of taking care of yourself and making your own decisions, but your boyfriend had to be in control of you. God knew you wanted out of this house and this relationship, but you couldn’t help wanting to keep this a secret, even from your closest friends—especially from your closest friends—you were supposed to be strong enough to protect yourself, but you couldn’t even deal with your sad excuse of a partner.

How had you even gotten in this situation?

“I’ve told you, you are not allowed to leave this house without my permission!” He took an aggressive step toward you.

Your fingers quickly typed in an SOS—an agreed sign with Trunks that he was needed now.

“You are not in charge of me! I can leave this house whenever I want!”

“I dare you to raise you voice to me again!” You tried to maintain your position, not wanting to give into the conditioning you’d been given since meeting this monster, still, you took a step back.

You opened your mouth to fire back something—anything—but nothing came out.

Silence overtook the both of you for the few moments before there was a knock at the door.

You darted to it, picking up your [pet] as you did, and threw open the door.

“I’m going to go grab some of my stuff,” you handed Trunks your pet, “and I need you to take me somewhere. It doesn’t matter where.” You were shaking, but you wasted no time in explaining as you run to your room. Thank God you’d prepared a few bags for this very situation weeks ago.

When you returned, Trunks and [Guy’s Name] were staring each other down.

“Trunks-” he didn’t give you a chance to finish, grabbing your bags and handing back your pet.

X

You landed outside Capsule Corp minutes of silence later, “So,” you began with a roll of your shoulders, “that went well.”

“I think he wants to punch my face good.”

You laughed quietly, appreciating his attempt to lighten the situation, “I wouldn’t worry about that. Hopefully we’ll never have to see him again. Thanks for coming so quickly.”

You let your [pet] down—it wasn’t the first time s/he’d been here after all.

“[Name],” Trunks placed a hand on your shoulder as you straightened back up, “what happened?”

“That’s… Not a quick story. Can we put that off for now?”

Trunks nodded as you began the walk inside, “It’s up to you, just know that I’m always here if you want to talk.”

He seemed to hesitate, like he had more to say, but wasn’t sure if he should continue.

“Anyone who thinks they have a right to treat you like that doesn’t deserve you.”

You hesitated yourself, feelings you’d kept buried for years gnawing at you. Finally, though, you reached your hand forward and grabbed his own free hand.

“So,” you glanced down at your hand around his own as you spoke, “would that mean you deserve me?” You chanced tangling your fingers with his, your face getting redder and redder by the second.

“I-I’d like to hope so…” He looked down as well, his cheeks almost as dark as your own.

“I’m not sure if I deserve you.” You laughed lightly and finally looked away from your hands. Quickly, before you lost your nerve, you pressed a kiss against the corner of his lips.

You could swear that you’d never seen Trunks grin like he did after you kissed him, but you hardly had anytime to consider the thought before he pulled you into a much more passionate kiss.

The kiss couldn’t have lasted as long as it felt, but by the time he pulled back, you were breathing just a bit heavier and you had a dopey grin plastered on your face.

“You… Should have done that sooner.”

“Believe me, I wanted to.”

As you both laughed, a drop of rain hit your nose.

You called [pet’s name] as the both of you ran for cover before you and your stuff could get soaked.

“Next time we have a heart-warming moment,” you gave him a playful pout as you pushed back your wet hair, “let’s do it indoors.”

“Deal.”

[fratboyvivimatthews]

all over again - jack hughes

summary: you and jack had been dating for a year. it came with its fair share of ups and downs, but when you see a picture of jack with another girl again, all hell breaks loose

warnings: angst, tears, swearing, reggie i’m sorry but it had to be done

word count: [3,917]

“Y/n what’s up? You didn’t die, did you?” One of your friends asked from the phone call. Only you couldn’t answer her, you were lost for words. “Girl seriously are you good?” Only your eyes scanned the photo of Jack and the pretty blond again. Of course it was another blond. “Hello Earth to Y/n/n, you still awake or did you fall asleep on me?” 

Scoffing you rubbed your eyes trying to get rid of the tears from forming. “Nope I’m wide awake, but I have to - I uh gotta go. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” With that you hung up and went back to analyzing the pictures all over again. The feeling in the pit of your stomach only getting worse and worse.

It all made sense now, that’s why he hadn’t called you like he did every other night. But of course you settled for the ‘Goodnight Y/n/n I love you, text you in the morning’ text instead of questioning why he suddenly decided not to call you. And now you had to go to sleep knowing he’d rather be at a party with that girl than talk to you on the phone.

Of fucking course this just had to happen, and now would come the countless people asking if he was cheating, or if you had broken up after a year of dating. Tears blurred your vision so you could no longer see their faces, but you could still picture how happy he looked in the picture. He never looked that happy in the pictures you have taken together, he just looked so carefree.

He never seemed like that in the pictures you guys had taken. Then the sobs fell and you couldn’t help but think the worst. And there was no way you could call and talk to him now, it’s one twenty-six in the morning and Jack was asleep keeping his schedule on track.

So that’s how you ended up crying yourself to sleep on a Monday night without doing any of your homework. Wondering if you should even bother texting him in the morning, or if you even had a relationship to worry about anymore.  

Your feet dragged across the white tiled floors of your school, praying people didn’t notice how your e/c eyes were red and puffy. Hopefully they didn’t notice that your normally cheery self was barely talking, and you were praying they didn’t see the picture so they wouldn’t ask you. Like countless amounts of people had already flooded your Instagram with question on pictures of you and Jack, and your DM’s.

And most of all you were begging god they wouldn’t see your heart that you wear on your sleeve was cracking faster than anyone could fix it. But they did, of course they did. People you didn’t even know were giving you looks of pity, and it was like even the teachers knew about the picture.

But your friends were the first ones to come out and ask you. “So, did he cheat on you?” Monica asked before getting slapped in the shoulder by Rachel. “What everyone’s wondering, I’m the only one who had the guts to ask.”

“It’s okay guys,” you stated with a hoarse voice. Frowns crossed your friends faces as they listened to you take a shaky breath. “I don’t even know anymore,” you admitted slowly. “I’ve been ignoring his messages and calls since this morning, I don’t have it in me to talk to him he and hear what he did.”

“But what if he didn’t?” Rachel asked trying to smile, “Y/n you don’t know unless you talk to him.”

“The thing is even if he didn’t there’s always going to be another picture making me think that he did, and there’s going to be some party that I get put aside for again. You know he ditched me when I was actually in Plymouth to visit him last month?” It was true he had, but you didn’t tell anyone scared to say it aloud making it true.

Your friends looked at each frowning once more before looking back at you. Scoffing you faked a laugh, “Yeah well he did. We were supposed to go out for dinner but something came up, so he left me and told Luke to take me to dinner.” Their mouths dropped open when you said this. In their minds Jack Hughes was perfect, and he was in your mind too. Expect for the little fights that happened every so often.

“Oh sweetie,” Monica coed before wrapping you up in her arms. “I’m so so sorry.” Shaking your head you tried to stop the tears that were forming, not wanting the whole hallway to see you break down over the hockey super star.

“Please I don’t want to cry again,” you whispered as you phone buzzed from another call. “I just can’t not here, not when he keeps calling me.” Rachel had joined in the hug hope to help shield your teary figure from the rest of your grade.

Only then one of them pulled away from you and you didn’t know why. “Y/n/n you need to see this,” Rachel’s phone was handed over to you and through the tears you saw it. It was another picture of Jack and the blond only this time they were pictured with others, people who you figured would tell Jack he shouldn’t have been taking that picture, but here he was arms wrapped tightly around her waist only focused in on her. “Cole posted it an hour ago, I’m so sorry Y/n.”

Then you saw the worst part of the picture, she was kissing his cheek and he was grinning like a madman. “Take me home,” you breathed trying your hardest not to break down in the middle of the hall with everyone focused in on you. “Please, please just take me home,” you hiccupped glancing around the to the people standing at their lockers.

You handed Rachel her phone back before wiping away a few tears, “Please I wanna go home.” They both nodded before leading you out of the school to the car. “I just - just, what am I supposed to do?” You asked thinking maybe they hand an answer.

“Get some sleep, and try talking to him later,” Monica replied looking at you through the mirror. “We know he’s been calling you all day, he snapped us too, wanting to talk to you. You gotta get some sleep and try to talk to him, it’s the only way you’re gonna know.”

“I don’t wanna know,” you mumbled into your hands. “I just want it to go back to normal I just want my Jack back.”

His ringtone filled your bedroom, it had been a constant for the last hour and half seeing they were finally done with hockey for the day. Your hands ran down you face as you stared down at the contact picture that popped up with his name. Of course it just had to be the candid picture you sitting in his lap while watching a movie in the Hughes’ basement.

The only thing you could focus on was the fact that he didn’t have that big smile on his face, but his eyes were on you and he was holding you close to him. It made you feel sick that he had yet another girl sitting on his lap again, and this time her lips were on his cheek.

You were so close to hitting the green answer button but you stopped yourself. How could you open yourself up to that hurt feeling? But you knew you had to, you had to hear his voice and listen to why he said this happened, so in the blink of an eye you hit the button. Jack let out a breath of relief before his voice filled your ears.

“Oh my god Y/n, I’ve been calling you all day. Are you okay babe?” He rushed out having too much energy inside of him from you finally answering his calls. “Thank god you answered I was starting to think I needed to fly out to see you for you to talk to me.” He fell silent again waiting for your response, “Y/n/n come on what’s wrong?”

You fell back on to your bed not knowing if you could handle this. A million thoughts ran around your head as he kept speaking trying to get you to answer him. How could he talk to you like nothing was wrong, like those pictures didn’t get posted?

As he kept rambling on you thought of how to approach this, work your way up to it, or come straight out and say it. Which was personally your favorite option.

“Jack I can’t keep seeing these pictures, this is what the second time that I know about?” you asked trying your hardest to hold back your sobs. “God knows how many other pictures there are like this.” Jack’s side of the line was silent and you couldn’t help but let out a sob.

“You need to get your priorities in check Jack Hughes, you’re seventeen years old - almost eighteen,” you huffed wishing you didn’t have to say this to him. “I shouldn’t have to see this picture of some random account at one in the morning, you need to figure it out, because-” sobs fell from your lips as you thought of what to say next.  “Because I just can’t do this anymore,” you whispered exhaustion taking over your body.

You could hardly believe that you had said it, and Jack couldn’t either. For the first time in this conversation he was struggling to find the words to say. “I uh- what - what do you mean you can’t do this anymore Y/n? I was a at a party, I was with friends-”

“But you’re always with friends Jack,” you cut him off praying you didn’t sound like some overprotective girlfriend that you didn’t want to be. “And then from these parties always surfaces the pictures of you and the guys looking drunk. And how could I forget, the pictures of another girl sitting on your lap, or leaning in too close to you on your basement couch.”

A groan left Jack’s mouth as he ran his hands through his hair. “So what are you saying Y/n, that I can’t go to parties with the guys? That I can’t hang out with other girls because what you’re jealous?”

Your tears of sadness turned to those anger. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks as you let out a forced laugh. “You really think I’m going to tell you to stop going to parties and being friends with other girls? Wow obviously you haven’t been paying attention much to this relationship because newsflash Jack, I’m the one who says go and have fun, but then you go and do this so I look like an idiot. Then you call me jealous? This isn’t jealous Jack, this is frustrated.”

“Sure seems a hell of a lot like jealous to me,” he hissed his worried demeanor changing in the blink of an eye. “Y/n nothing even happened I swear.”

“Yep so she didn’t kiss you on the cheek, and you totally were wearing a shirt. Or the fact that you don’t look happier in those pictures with her than in the ones of us,” you snapped your mind racing back to think of the pictures and how close she was to your boyfriend. “That she’s there with you, that you clearly have put in more effort to see her and talk to her than me. So yes Jack I’m done I can’t do this,” you screamed tears falling again. “Not when I’ve been left behind for some blonds you barely know more than once.”

He fell quiet once more not able to speak. He wasn’t sure what he could say anymore, but that was the answer you were looking for. You knew if he cared about you he would speak right away, but he hesitated and you were over it. “Thanks a lot Jack you just proved to me everything I ever over thought about was right. I hope you have a nice life.”

“No Y/n wa-” you hit the red circle ending the call before you could hear the rest of his pleas. Throwing your phone to your bed you stood there looking around your room and felt suffocated. The happy pictures of your relationship were too much for you to take and you lost it. Pulling at your hair you started to rip them down from the walls not caring if they ripped, or if they were one of your favorites.

They all had to go because Jack had to go, and that meant ripping apart your life piece by piece. 

It had been almost a week since you had talked to Jack and you had no idea were your relationship had stood. You thought it was over seeing as your room was still turned upside down from your efforts to get rid of him. He on the other hand must of have thought there was still something he could do to fix it, seeing as he called every day and wouldn’t stop trying to text you.

All of which you continued to ignore. And to help your efforts of never seeing him again you deleted all forms of social media expect for Twitter. There was really no point in trying to hide when everybody had already seen or heard about pictures, the one on Cole’s page being deleted almost right after you got off the phone with Jack that night.

So here you were, finally getting back into the groove of things. Finding peace with not having Jack in your life, and not having social media to drag you down was amazing even if it was hard at first. Somethings take time, and now it was so much easier to get your homework done when you didn’t have any notifications getting in your way. That and it meant you had more time for Netflix.

“Y/n someone’s here for you,” your mother called pulling you away from your episode of Supernatural. Your eyebrows raised confused wondering who would be coming by your house on a school night since none of your friends had told you they were stopping by. But before you got the chance to question your mom she called again, “Y/n it’s someone important.”

Sighing you pushed yourself up off the bed and walked downstairs groaning in frustration. You couldn’t even see who was standing at the front door because your mother blocked the view, so when she stepped aside and you saw Jack standing there you couldn’t breath.

It was like it all hit you all over again making you stumble over your feet as you walked over to the pair of them. “What are you doing here?” you asked him as you hugged yourself scared to let your guard down again. “And why’d you let him in?” It was directed at your mom but she only shrugged.

“You can’t avoid this for the rest of your life sweetheart, like it or not I know what heartbreak feels like,” she turned to look at Jack who backed away at her words. “He flew all this way to talk to you Y/n, at least try to listen to him. If not for me, but for yourself.” With a kind smile she walked away from you praying you’d do the right thing and not kick him out of your house.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you huffed glaring at him hoping to just scare him off and save yourself from anymore hurt. “There’s girls in Michigan waiting for you.” It was a low blow but god did it feel good to say, but the way his flushed face cringed hurt your heart.

Jack just stood there staring at you with his puffy blue eyes sporting big bags under them. “Can we - can we talk, please?” His voice was raspy from crying and late nights trying to get a hold of you, but somehow it still sounded as sweet as honey. “Y/n/n please I just needa talk to you, please,” he begged hoping to get a response from you.

Shaking your head you prayed that this was all a dream and that he wasn’t standing in front of you, even better you wish this whole thing was just a nightmare you were waiting to wake up from. But it wasn’t, this was real and the pain was hard to handle. “Fine,” you mumbled, “we can go up to my room.” You didn’t care that it was a mess, or the fact that he would have to handle seeing the pictures scattered around the floor. You wanted him to hurt like he had hurt you.

Silently he followed you up to your room and waited for you to close the door before he started speaking. His eyes scanned the room focused in on exactly what you had thought they would. “You never told me why you’re here Jack,” it hurt to say his name. It hurt to be in the same room, and it hurt that you still love the seventeen year old in front of you.

“To talk to you,” he breathed slowly as be bent over to pick up his favorite picture, it was of you kissing in the rain at a fire, “about what really happened. Because it’s not what you think.” His eyes were glued to it, he wouldn’t even look up at you as he spoke. “Yes it was a party, and yes there was a girl sitting in my lap who happened to kiss my cheek but she’s not you Y/n, you know that.”

“I thought I knew that Jack,” you answered sitting down on your bed, “then this happened the first time, and then it happened again. So I went through the pain all over again.” He finally looked up from the picture to meet your e/c eyes. “Do you know how hard it was for me to be with you? How many people would message me, or ask me about you?”

His gaze dropped to his feet ashamed he put you through that when he loved you. “No, but I thought you would talk to me if that hurt you, you always said you would.”

Laughing a little you shook your head, “You don’t get it. That’s not what hurt, I could deal with the people, but what I can’t put myself through anymore is you.” His eyes went wide when he heard the word. “You ditched me for whatever last month and stuck me with Luke, and then I get pushed aside for a party and this happens? Jack it’s a circle you fall into, and I can’t do that to myself, I can’t let you tear me apart.”

Licking his lips he tried to find the way to properly breath. It was like the oxygen had disappeared from the room. “But what - what? A circle, I fall into a circle?” He didn’t understand how he teared you apart, he never would because he thought he built you up. “I didn’t tear you apart, I was always there. Always, and that dinner with Luke - Y/n I had to go you know that.”

“No J, I don’t know that,” you shot back. “You never told me why you left, and when I asked you got mad at me. So I let it go, just like the last time this happened. I told you it hurt me, that I don’t want to see this again happen again because, and you know what you said?” Your arms crossed over your chest as you waited for his answer.

“I said, ‘don’t worry babygirl it won’t, because I love you’,” he whispered before sitting on the bed next to you. “But I fucked it up,” he added causing you to nod your head.

So you just sat there in silence not knowing what to say to each other, and it was awful. You used to be comfortable in the silence with Jack, but now it was stuffy. It allowed you to think back to all of what you shared between each other. “A long time ago you promised me you’d be at the draft no matter what,” Jack stated making you think back to that late night you promised him the world. “That you’d be the first person to hug me and say I had finally made it. You’re still going to come right?”

His big blue eyes were so full of hope that you almost missed the tears that were forming at his waterline. Your mouth opened, but you closed it again before you said something you’d regret. When you opened it once more nothing came out, no words just breaths.

“No Jack, I’m not going to come to the draft,” it had fell from your lips so easily.

The hope that had once filled his eyes was gone and the tears fell down his cheeks. “No please - Y/n please you promised me you’d be there. I need you there, please,” he wept using the backs of his hands to try and stop the tears from falling. “You promised me!” He screamed not afraid of anyone hearing him.

“And you promised me Jack!” You exclaimed standing from the bed throwing your hands in the air. “Promised that it wouldn’t happen again, that everything was going to be okay. That it was you and me against the world. But you broke it,” you seethed glaring down at him. “And you broke me when you did that, tore me apart so I have every right to break mine. Take the girl you picked over me last week, I’m sure she’ll jump at the opportunity to sit in your lap at the draft.”

He clenched his jaw, and grabbed a handful of your sheets to try and calm himself down but it didn’t work. “Why the fuck would I do that when the girl I love and want there is you Y/n,” he yelled standing from the bed. “Why can’t you see that I didn’t do anything wrong, that it was a stupid party and you're overreacting.”

Tears now fell from your eyes. “You don’t mean that,” you muttered, “if you loved me you would’ve thought of what you were doing, but you didn’t. So I’m not overreacting. You did do something wrong Jack, you ruined us! Just leave, I didn’t want you here in the first place.” You sat back down too tired to stand and fight this battle anymore.

With your head in your hands you heard the door open and close. When you heard the car start and drive off you lost it. Sobs racked your body as you thought of rushing after him to tell him you’d be there, that you couldn’t break the promise you had kept. But you didn’t, and it was the biggest regret of your life.

Because when you watched the draft with you dad you saw an open seat to the left of Jack, in between him and his mother. The seat that had been intended for you, and just when you thought you were finally over him the tears came back and it hurt all over again.

[occasionalfics]

Not Such A Long Shot

main masterlist | thor masterlist | taglist | ko-fi | ao3

For: Me. But also all of you, because I feel weird not having posted something in what’s probably weeks but feels like months.

Pairing: Alpha!Thor x Omega!Reader

A/N: You absolutely did read that pairing tag right. I almost never write a/b/o because it’s just not really my thing but I felt like alpha!Thor was vastly underrated (except by @spacelabrathor​ who’s a god damn MASTER at it) and wanted to remedy the issue. 

I’ve been working on this for at least two weeks. Probably more. It’s not edited, probably not my best work, definitely not really finished. It was meant to go on longer than it currently is but I’ve forgotten the direction I was going to go in and decided to just post this and write more later if I remember. 

I don’t have a beta reader and didn’t want to read through 25 pages of this before I posted it. I’m sorry about that. I hope you like it anyway.

Honestly I’m so tired today I couldn’t even be bothered to fix the italics formatting throughout this whole thing in one sitting. Maybe I’ll fix it later, maybe I won’t. Does it make that much of a difference when you read it? (I legit would love responses!)

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT (just one section, but still), NSFW/18+ CONTENT AHEAD. Not a super confident Reader, but she knows what she wants. 

Words: 10,177 (like I said, 25 pages)

You feel like one of the most pathetic Omegas to have ever lived.

Most Omegas find their Alphas and go straight into bonding, but you? You had always made things more complicated for yourself.

And the walking embodiment of such a reminder has absolutely no idea that you exist.

You don’t blame him. The last five or so years have been extremely difficult for him, and for most of that time, you were nothing but a tiny, run of the mill SHIELD Agent. Even now, as just...an Avengers Agent, you still blend in with the crowd.

It’s...kind of the job of a spy to do so.

But for an unbonded Omega? One who, at some point over the last five or so years, imprinted on an untouchable and uninterested Alpha?

It’s torture.

--

Thor comes back to Midgard and tells his friends about Ragnarok. He and Bruce relate all of the relevant details, and they somehow trickle down the chain of command to you. Your ears perk up when you’re notified that Thor’s back, and without thinking, you head for the residential floors.

You’ve memorized where Thor’s apartment is. You’ve never gone in, knowing what kind of boundary that breaks, but you’ve gone to the floor, stood in the hallway, and nearly cried yourself dry on particularly bad nights of your last few heats.

You can’t help it.

Your body decided, long ago, that Thor was the one. The Big One. Your heart and mind haven’t really caught up to your biology and it fucking sucks, but it’s the reason why you’ve abandoned your work station and head upstairs.

Remain calm, you remind yourself. He doesn’t even know who you are.

You think of the countless times you’ve tried to mate with another Alpha before. And each time since you imprinted, every one of those Alphas have told you how terrible you smell. So you’ve gone home alone too many times, unable to even see the man you’ve been physically pining over for years, knowing he has no idea who you are, feeling like the scummiest, most useless Omega in the entire universe.

You don’t deserve him. He works so hard to keep everyone save, pulls so much of the weight of the team when he is around that you wonder how they ever manage to work without him. You just keep quiet, fill out paperwork, and go on the occasional mission when your skills are required and relevant.

But he doesn’t make you feel so bad about your job when you find him in the common area. The Valkyrie is sitting next to him, drinking beers from glass bottles, feet up on the table in front of them while they watch the local news.

When Thor sees you, he smiles. “Hello there,” he calls, raising his beer.

You give a small wave. He nods to one of the seats beside the couch. “Come, join us!”

He doesn’t even know you, but he’s acting like he does.

The Valkyrie looks at you, her expression unreadable. You’d say your jealous of her, but she’s an Alpha, too. You can smell it on her, feel the guarded and dominant energy flowing off of her. She’s not competition, though. That much you can tell right away.

You do as Thor had offered, taking the chair right next to him.

“Waiting for Stark?” he asks.

You shake your head, unable to look at anything else but him now that you’re so close.

You wonder if he can feel what you feel: the sun falls over his glorious face in waves that make your stomach churn; his smile is bright and makes your chest tight and fluttery; his one remaining eye - that you’d just noticed - is a deep, earnest blue that might cause slick to pool between your legs if you were in heat.

At least the Gods had mercy on you there. For now.

“I, uh,” you say. Instinct wins over, despite the logical parts of you screaming not to say what you say next: “I heard you were back.”

If he did feel what you were feeling, his smile wouldn’t be falling like it is. He must not be imprinted like you are. It’s unfortunate, but you know it happens sometimes.

You don’t like what people have said about the Omegas with unrequited imprints. This isn’t faring well.

“Just wanted to say hi,” you say. You remember that he doesn’t know you, despite you having been in the background of his story for the last few years. You try not to hold that against him while you hold a hand out toward him, attempting a softer smile because you don’t want to scare him away. You don’t want to be one of those Omegas. “I’m (Y/N).”

You don’t deserve him. He’s too kind. His smile comes back as he leans toward you and shakes your outstretched hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, (Y/N),” he says.

And if he feels anything more than what one normally feels upon first introduction, he doesn’t show it.

“This is my friend,” Thor says, pointing now at the Valkyrie. “We call her Val.”

She nods. “My friends call me Val,” she corrects. “Everyone else calls me Valkyrie.”

You know it’s meant for you. Clearly it is, since neither of them know you. Gods you plead in your head why did I come up here?

“Don’t mind her,” Thor says, maybe, just possibly picking up on your anxious energy. “Her bark’s much worse than her bite.”

“My bite is plenty horrifying, thank you,” she jokes, and Thor laughs with her.

You want that. To laugh and be at ease around him. To know him. 

But since you’ve known of him, your crush has been exclusively on the sidelines. You imprinted on him from across a room, when he hadn’t even been looking at you. Your schoolgirl feelings for him had just...mounted and climaxed, and then you were suddenly attached to him chemically, without his permission or knowledge.

Sometimes - actually, make that most of the time, you hate being an Omega. This kind of shit only happens to Omegas who don’t settle down and pick a good mate that they’re realistically worthy of before it’s too late.

This is ridiculous. This was always ridiculous. Why did I come here?

You go to stand, but before you can, Thor clears his throat and turns the television off. You can’t tell if you’re relieved that he’s leaving the room or not.

“We were just about to head out for karaoke night,” he says. “Would you like to join?”

For just a moment, you wonder how he has time for karaoke when his entire kingdom lives in your backyard now, but you don’t question it.

Your crush dictates that you simply smile gratefully at the offer and accept.

--

At three more beers in, the Valkyrie ran off with a Beta she’d met ten minutes prior. Thor’s other friends - the Avengers, the team you’d worked under for years and barely ever met personally - are sprawled around the bar, some dancing, some drinking, some talking. Bruce is letting loose with a wildly off-key rendition of “I Think We’re Alone Now.”

But you haven’t left Thor’s side all night. You’ve got a respectable distance between you, and you refuse to drink more than you should. Closing that space seems...wrong. He doesn’t know you, doesn’t know how you feel. Doesn’t know that you physically cannot help but be drawn to him.

You swirl around your second drink, the ice long melted intentionally to dilute the alcohol. You watch Bruce with a smile, trying your hardest to ignore the suffocating heat of the Alpha beside you. He smells like...rain and wind, like the beach and a forest all at once. You want to lean back into him, let him hold you and touch you and smell you, but you know that wouldn’t be right. Or fair.

So you slump forward and focus harder on Bruce’s shoddy footwork.

“Not having fun?” he asks from behind.

You can’t tell if he knows you’re holding back or if he genuinely just thinks you’re a depressed drunk.

“I am,” you say, attempting your best smile and convincing voice. And acting is a huge part of what you do when you go on missions, so you think you’re pretty successful now.

Except that Thor’s smile turns somewhat sad. “C’mon,” he says, and then one of his hands is placed at the small of your back.

Your eyes widen as you ask, “Where?!”

He nods at the dance floor. It seems weird that there’s a dance floor for karaoke night, but you doubt anyone drunk enough truly cares.

“Let’s go dance!” he says, and he sounds so light hearted and genuine that you find you can’t deny him. You can’t even question him anymore.

You slide out of the booth, then wait for him. Thor follows you out, and when he turns back to face you, he takes one of your hands in his.

Something in his face twitches, but you swear you imagined it. In no time at all, he’s back to smiling and pulling you out onto the floor behind him. He finds a place he likes, between two other couples and a handful of single women dancing with their glasses raised. Some of them look back at Thor, but his eyes never leave you.

You don’t see that much, though. All you focus on is his one hand on your hip, the other holding your hand out beside you. Your free hand grips his shoulder as he sways you out of time to the music, neither of you appearing to care.

There’s something electric between you. You know you feel that, but can only hope that he feels it, too. It’s more than imprinting. It’s more than a crush. It’s...connection, you think. He smiles down at you and you smile back and follow his lead through the dance because it’s all that you can think to do. You never want this moment to end.

But then it does, with the song, of course.

Thor lets go of you, except for your hand. You try not to laugh giddily at the thought that, if he didn’t want to be holding onto you, he wouldn’t be. Somehow, you’ve been blessed by the Gods.

He brings you to the bar, orders two more drinks, and then makes sure you’re comfortable on your stool before he sits on his own. You’re not sure you want to keep drinking, but then Thor doesn’t even seem to care about the glasses placed in front of you when they do come. He holds his in his free hand, sure, but his eye is zeroed in on your reaction to him and nothing else.

“I don’t want this to sound weird,” he starts, “but you smell...so familiar.”

You shrug. It’s not that weird, you know. Scents are how everyone distinguishes themselves.

“I’ve been...around. In the background, I guess.”

“What- the whole time?” he asks.

You nod, picking up the drink to take little sips. It’s not too bad that way, thankfully. A simple drink, with plenty of tropical flavoring to make it bearable.

“Well somebody’s gotta keep an eye on day-to-day stuff around the city,” you tease, flashing a smile at him because you really can’t make your face do anything else. Even when you drink again, your cheese are still puffed into a rather gleeful expression, because just being in his presence is enough to light you up.

The feeling leaves you thinking about how pathetic of an Omega you are. But it also...makes you think about how close he is. How he chose to invite you, to dance with you, to drink with you. He could have any Beta or Omega he wants...and he’s looking at you.

He keeps looking at you. The whole night, actually. The only time he’s not really looking is when, four drinks later each, you’re straddling his waist in a corner booth and his hands are roaming the curve of your hips. His one eye is shut, but you can only tell because there’s no flutter of eyelashes on your cheek.

You don’t care, though, because your tongue is tangled with his, and he noises he’s making fill you with warmth and electricity that makes the hairs on the back of your neck and along your arms stand up. The sheer Alpha energy wafting off of him is consuming you beyond comprehension, pushing you closer and closer to a point of no return, but you don’t care.

Five years of pining and it only took introducing yourself to get him in your clutches. You laugh at the thought.

He pulls back, dipping his head to the side because your lips drag to follow his. His eye barely opens, but you’re so close that it doesn’t matter. He can easily see you right where you are.

“What’s so funny, Little One?” he asks, using a name he’s just taken to calling you moments ago.

You bite your bottom lip lazily and shake your head. “Absolutely nothing,” you tell him, breath heavy as it falls across his face.

You’re just about to dive right back in when someone clears their throat. Your body wants you to ignore them, but your mind, as gone as it is, knows better. The authority in the person’s voice screams Alpha, and despite them not being your Alpha, you still heed their warning.

Looking over your shoulder, you find the Valkyrie standing, watching, arms crossed. Possession in her eyes like a bright fire.

You’d thought she wasn’t competition, but maybe you were wrong.

“What happened to your friend?” Thor asks from below you.

“Sent her on her way,” the Valkyrie says. “You should, too.”

Your face drops. Your heart skips a painful beat as you realize...he’s going to listen to her. She is competition, despite being an Alpha herself and despite having had her own source of fun earlier in the night.

Without hesitating any longer, you slide off of Thor’s lap, twisting to sit before pushing yourself out of the booth. He calls your name, and you can’t help but stop, but you don’t turn to face him. You look at the Valkyrie, see the fire still burning in her irises, and scurry away. Out of the bar, onto the street and down a block without thinking twice.

You’re lucky that you’re able to hail a cab without a hitch. You know how lucky you are, but you don’t really feel lucky.

Really, you feel even more pathetic now. Thor had brought you up so high over the course of one night, but a single glower from the Valkyrie and you were reduced to embers, the dying bits of a fire burned long into the night.

You manage to keep it together until you reach your apartment. The second your door is locked, the tears come. You slip out of your shoes and tear your work clothes from your body before shakily managing to get in bed. The covers come up over your head, and only then do you let out a room-shaking sob.

How you could have read the room any differently than to know the Valkyrie would never let you have him, you can’t say. Something about the whole situation didn’t make sense, but the feelings of shame and embarrassment wash over you so strongly that you don’t care to think the night through.

Your little crush would be the end of you. Unrequited Imprinted Omegas, more often than not, became old maids, never mating, suffering through heat after heat until, one day, their bodies aged and decided they no longer needed to bear babes. Then, they were useless to anyone.

Everything hurt as you acknowledged your future.

--

You don’t cry beyond that night. Knowing that your crush is entirely one-sided meant acknowledging that you couldn’t just imagine yourself into mating. You wouldn’t let yourself get lost in the fantasy of being Thor’s Omega anymore.

So, you avoid him. It’s not too hard, since your department is well below the residential floors and no one really comes to visit much. You have work to keep you busy, and plenty of books and television to catch up on at home.

You hate that your biological systems have decided that, if you can’t have Thor, you won’t have anyone. But until you know whether or not this Imprint will fade, you have to accept the possibility that you may end up alone. It wasn’t ideal, but it happened, and you know it does.

A week after karaoke night, you see a doctor. You tell them, reluctantly, about your Imprint. You tell them that you’re certain the feeling is unrequited, that there’s no possible way he formed as quick a connection as you had. You ask to be put on suppressants, so that you won’t have to suffer as much pain during your heats, since you’ve convinced yourself you’ll be the only one getting you through them until you don’t get them anymore.

They give you a higher dose than they normally would for someone who’s never been on suppressants before. But they tell you that they want to help with the emotional impact of an unmatched Imprint. They say the medication will dull the ache, will cloud the thoughts and memories of the person you’re imprinted on. This specific dose and brand of suppressant will make it easier for you to function on a daily basis without falling into depressive spirals.

Within days, you can tell there’s a difference. You’re not anxious about going into work, not constantly thinking about running into Thor again. The image of the Valkyrie’s smoldering eyes doesn’t haunt your dreams as much.

You feel...almost normal. Still a little pathetic, but you’re getting there.

--

On occasion, when the rest of the team is already on mission, you’re recruited for your special abilities.

One of those abilities is flight. Meaning that you have your pilot’s license, so sometimes Tony Stark himself asks if you’ll captain a jet for some of his friends. You almost never turn him down - you can’t remember the last time didn’t eventually regret turning Tony Stark down for anything.

You wish you had this time. You’re stuck on a ship with Bruce Banner, the Valkyrie, and Thor. Their camaraderie distracts you as you attempt to fly the jet, but more than that, Thor’s scent completely engulfs you and doesn’t let you go for a second.

Not even when you’ve landed the jet and let them off to fight whatever Hydra group they’ve found this time.

The longer the smell of him lingers, the more frustrated you become. You try to hold it together, remember that you’re on suppressants and nothing is supposed to happen to you. If you hold your breath and close your eyes, you can actually calm down a little, you think.

But then you take in a deeper breath and you’re filled with him all over again.

“Fuck,” you mutter, shutting your eyes as hard as you can. But that proves to be a bad idea, too, because the second you rest your head against your seat, all you can see is him. You can practically taste his tongue on yours, as if you’d only been kissing him the night before and not nearly a month ago.

You whimper, and it’s the single most lamentable noise you’ve ever heard.

Heat settles in your belly. Slick gathers between your thighs. Blood rushes in your veins so hot and heavy and fast you’re sure you can hear it.

You need release. It doesn’t make sense because you’re not due to be in heat for a week and it shouldn’t feel this intense while you’re on these suppressants, but you don’t think about that right now or, really, even care.

You look over the back of your seat. There’s no noise coming in from the dropped walkway at the opening at the back of the ship. The three of them only left a little while ago, so they won’t be back for some time.

Reaching forward to your control panel, you turn up the volume on your comm, just in case, but also shut off your mic. You can hear them if they call you, but they can’t hear you.

The zipper to your tac pants is too easy to slide down. You roll up your sleeve, reach below the fabric of the pants, and find your folds already drenched. You gather slick on your fingers and reach your clit, rubbing in slow circles at first.

Your eyes shut and all you can see is Thor. All you can smell and feel and taste is Thor.

Your mind wanders. You dream of Thor touching you like this, teasing and pleasing you, beaming when he knows how wet you are for him. You hear imaginary praises that set butterflies free in your stomach, and the taste of your name on his tongue is so real and glorious that you whine as loudly as possible. Your back arches against the metal chair uncomfortably, but you keep going.

Two of your own fingers reach down and enter you, but you almost convince yourself that they’re his. That he wants to see you beneath him, stretching for him, preening and keening for him. You know he’d be bigger than you are, but you are all you have to work with.

You move quickly, hitting your spot before long, pushing against your chair and moaning out into the world as if you’re in your own bed. You clamp your free hand over your mouth, just in case you hit a button or someone comes back without announcing themselves.

The last thing you need - the last thing you could even handle - is being caught in this act.

You clench around your fingers and come messily, but thankfully, entirely alone. It’s the first time, maybe ever, that you’re glad to not have any company.

After giving yourself ample time to calm down, you rush off to the restroom to clean yourself up. Now that you’ve taken care of yourself, you don’t need two Alphas and a Beta to board the ship and immediately know what you’ve done in their absence.

--

It rains for three days straight after that mission. It wasn’t a hard or taxing mission in particular - or so Bruce had explained upon returning to the jet - but something about it had affected Thor enough for him to keep a continuous storm hanging over the city.

You don’t dare ask him about it, though. It’s not any of your business how he feels and what he does.

But then, on a late night after work, he shows up at your apartment. He has the decency to knock, and even more to ask for permission to enter your space.

An Omega’s home is a sacred place. A safe space. So many parts of being an Omega in a large city are dangerous, and a home is meant to be somewhere to escape all of that.

So when an Omega lets an Alpha in after that Alpha has submitted to their will? It’s… huge.

You and Thor both know that. The remarkably surprised look on his face when you allow him into your living room tells you that much.

He looks around as he enters, taking in the picture frames of you and work friends, you and childhood friends, and you and your parents. His mouth hangs open, even and especially when you tell him to get comfortable and take a seat wherever.

You immediately think you shouldn’t give him so much power in your space, but you actually don’t regret it. You offer him a drink and try not to take it personally when he declines politely.

He seems pleased when you set your own glass of water on the coffee table in front of the couch. You sit with one leg bent so you can face him, and you smile without even having to think about it.

“So. What’s up?” you ask him.

He sighs and wrings his hands out. “I think I owe you an apology.”

You wish that were true, but you can’t, for the life of you, figure out what it is he should be sorry for. You’ve gone over everything in your head since that karaoke night and you’ve never once found anything to blame Thor for.

It wasn’t like he knew you. Wasn’t like he owed you an explanation or anything.

You shake your head. “No, Thor, it’s okay-”

“But it’s not. I have so much to say and...I don’t think I know where to begin.”

In the silence that follows, you think about how weird this is. Your feelings for Thor are intense - or were - but you still don’t really know one another. One night of drunken making out does not make a solid foundation for any kind of relationship. He shouldn’t feel like he has anything to apologize for.

You’ve been keeping yourself in check with reality this whole time, you realize. And it’s been helping and hurting - more of the former, thankfully. 

But it doesn’t change the fact that he is in your space, working up to some kind of apology for...what, abandoning you? It’s not really like he did that, either, and it was long enough ago that he shouldn’t still feel so sorry.

He’s an Alpha. An extremely good looking Alpha with the appeal of a pirate and the gentle touch of an Angel (which you know from first hand experience now). He could have any Omega or Beta he wants - and you know that’s not the first time you’ve thought so.

More than anything, you kind of want an explanation. But who are you to demand such a thing from him?

He laughs at himself, bringing you back to reality for you. “You’d think in my quest to find you, I would’ve thought of what to say.” He shakes his head and looks down at his lap. “It’s just… Since that night, I haven’t...stopped thinking about you?”

Despite ending the statement as a question, Thor still can’t bring himself to look at you.

You sigh a little sadly and tell him, “It’s been weeks since that night. And we were just on a mission together-”

And he nods, effectively cutting your thoughts off at the root. “I know I’ve disappointed you. I could tell on the jet. I hesitated to come out here, to you, because I know I’ve done wrong by you.”

Something inside you yells out to take his hand and comfort him, but you fight the impulse. It wouldn’t be appropriate, despite your nature telling you otherwise.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been granted the leisure to have thoughts of this nature, (Y/N). That’s no excuse to mistreat any unbonded Omega, but it’s true in any case.” He smooths out the denim of his jeans, but doesn’t say more.

So you grip the back of your couch for a little grounding of courage before asking him, “If you’re so concerned with treating unbonded Omegas right, why did you buy me drinks? Invite me to dance? Let me…” Despite your best efforts, a lump forms in your throat. You try to push past it by clearing your throat, but can’t manage to finish the last question. You go on with, “Why let all of that night happen the way it did if you were already taken?”

At that, he finally turns back to you, his brow arched in a question over his one eye. “What do you mean, taken?”

“Why hide it, Thor? The Valkyrie is clearly better suited to your needs.” You think only of preparedness for battle when you say it. “Who am I to keep you away from her?”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, as if he hasn’t a clue.

Anger bubbles in your stomach, but you try to keep it contained when you say, “She’s the one that came over and separated us. She told you to get rid of me. What other explanation is there for that?”

“(Y/N),” he says softly. So softly that you can’t not look up at him again. “Val and I are not bonded. We’re not together. Neither one of us is taken by each other, or anyone else for that matter.”

“But she-”

“Was looking out for you. I don’t know if you remember much about our...tryst, but I was far too close to...well, to be frank, taking you right there in that booth.”

You are...stunned. This is not what you expected at all. And you have nothing to say - your mind is, inconveniently, blank as you try to process his explanation.

“Val is hard to read. I can see where you might’ve come from to think otherwise. She only wanted me to release you to keep you safe, in a very public setting, with Alphas all over the place.”

“And I ran-”

“I regret not going after you, at least to make sure you made it home safely.”

The sincerity in his voice is echoed in his eye. You now feel a little bad, since you’re still keeping a huge secret from him when he’s given you every explanation you could need. But...how do you tell an Alpha like Thor that you’ve only recently been suppressing your longstanding feelings for him, and that those longstanding feelings are more than just feelings?

You decide you won’t. Or can’t. Not yet. His thinking of you, of seeking you out, is not equal to being Imprinted. Telling him now will not help anything.

Besides, your meds are helping. Even with him so close you could touch now, you still don’t feel the same dread you had before you’d approached him the first time - dread caused by anxiety over a possible rejection.

You can’t set yourself up for that so early on.

“Is...that all you wanted to say?” you ask. If he gets up and leaves now, then you know it’s done and over. You’ll do what you have to in order to move on.

But if he stays…

You wait, and eventually, he shakes his head. 

“It’s not.” He shifts to face you like you’ve been facing him and clears his throat. “I’d regret leaving you now if I didn’t ask if you would like to show me around town one night. My friends are sometimes helpful but mostly have their own haunts, so I’ve mostly only seen a handful of the same bars.”

--

You take him to Times Square, just for the hell of it. You take him to see Wicked and he cries through intermission, drawing the wary eyes of more than a few other Alphas. But he hardly seems to care.

You take him to a 24-hour diner after the show and down coffee and hashbrowns and pancakes galore, and you laugh and talk and enjoy his presence like you had at karaoke night. He’s cordial and kind, not like many other Alphas you know. You’re more surprised that you’re the only Omega you know that’s Imprinted on him than the fact that you are still Imprinted on him.

How are you the only Omega not willing to let this moment pass?

When he brings you back to your apartment, you don’t want him to leave. You try to invite him in, but he shakes his head, though he doesn’t appear to be able to stop smiling at you.

“I won’t repeat my mistakes from the bar,” he says, only moving through the motions of attempting to pull his hand from yours. But there’s no real effort there. No muscle behind his actions.

You know if he really wanted to leave, he’d have no problem pulling you off of him.

“Just come in. We can talk, that’s all. I just don’t want this to end.”

“And neither do I-”

“Then come in,” you say, really, truly trying to get him to budge.

He doesn’t. But he does smile, even laugh at your attempt. “I’m not going to move this too quickly. I told you I don’t believe in mistreating Omegas.”

“You’d be mistreating me more by leaving now.”

He seems to pause at that, and you take the opportunity to tug on his hand in yours. You must take him by surprise, because he’s jostled over your threshold and into your living room. He laughs at that, too. You shut the door and lock it - but the lock is simple and on the inside of the door, so you both know he’d be able to unlatch it if he truly wants to leave.

When he doesn’t do anything other than stand up straight again, you move closer to him.

“We can just...watch a movie. Have some popcorn or something,” you say.

“It’s so late,” he tries. And it is, but there’s a distinct lack of emphasis behind his words.

“All the more reason for you to not be wandering the streets of New York, all alone and unfamiliar with the grid system, as you are.” You smirk up at him, knowing that, since he’s already here, you’re going to win this debate. “Nothing has to happen. And...if it does-”

“Which it won’t,” he says, eyebrows raising nearly up to his hairline.

“We just won’t let it ruin this.”

“But nothing is going to happen. I’m only going to stay if you agree to that.”

He drives a hard bargain, you think. And while half of you wants something to happen so badly, the more logical part that’s been bringing you back to reality over the last five years reminds you that his worry is legitimate. That just because nothing is going to happen tonight, that does not mean something won’t happen eventually.

“Okay, okay,” you say. “I accept your terms.” And then, before you can convince yourself otherwise, you stretch up on your tiptoes to press a small kiss to the soft hairs of his beard, right along his cheek. When you set back on your heels again, you smile and tell him to get comfortable. “My movies are in the rack next to the TV. Pick one and I’ll be right back with a snack.”

--

It nearly breaks your heart when he tells you he won’t spend your next heat with you.

You waste five whole days in bed, rolling back and forth, eating ice cream and cold pizza when you’re not weighed down by an entire wholesale-sized pack of Icy Hot wraps around your abdomen. It’s honestly not your worst heat, so you’re finally glad you’re taking suppressants.

All you really want, though, is Thor with you. Holding you, caring for you in every way an Alpha is meant to during heats. Sometimes you dream about him so viscerally that you search for him when you first wake up, but quickly remember his gentle but firm rejection when you’d asked him to stay.

At the end of the fifth day, you clean everything. Every surface in your apartment shines and sparkles and has no trace of a heat whatsoever before you even dare to call him.

He comes over for breakfast the next morning. You’ve got two more days off from work - a preliminary statute to all Omega contracts under Stark Industries - and since you’re sure your heat is over, you and Thor both agree it’s safe for him to come over.

But you’re quiet. Unusually so. From the moment he shows up, you’re not yourself. He’s so used to holding your hand now, to you cuddling up against him, and he knows something is wrong.

When he asks as you’re preparing eggs, you let out a deep sigh.

“I just… I really wanted your help over the last couple of days. That’s it.” You know there’s no use in lying to him, especially not on top of the secret you’re still keeping.

No, you still haven’t told him about your Imprint. It’s too embarrassing to think about now. Maybe there will be a good time to talk about it, but you don’t think it’s now.

He doesn’t say anything until you finish with the eggs. When you bring them to the table and immediately turn around to continue cooking, he stands up and gently grips your hand. You try to keep going, but he calls your name so softly, you nearly melt back into him. But you stop yourself before you fall too far.

“I have one strict rule for myself and many, many smaller, more specific rules follow it. First and foremost, I protect those who cannot protect themselves.” He tugs on you gently, clearly wanting you to face him, but you stand your ground.

“It wasn’t your protection I needed, Thor.”

“No, you’re right. You needed to be protected from me.”

He must’ve known that would get you to look at him. He seems to be anticipating the incredulous, offended glare you send at him.

“One of those more specific rules I’ve set for myself is that I do not share a bed with an unbonded Omega, for the first time, during their heat. I will not stoop to the level of the majority of Alphas, who only seek out their own pleasure.”

“So you’d rather let me writhe in pain for days instead.”

He sighs, practically growls from deep in his chest, but he doesn’t look or smell or feel angry to you. Frustrated, perhaps, but to be fair, you are too.

“Of course I don’t want that. Of course I wanted to be there for you. But what kind of man - what kind of Alpha would I be if I took advantage of that pain? What happens to this-” he holds your intertwined hands up in front of your face - “if I act selfishly on your discomfort?”

On the one hand, you want to tell him that it isn’t as if you weren’t begging for his company. But...on the other, you kind of get it. And you’ve known Thor long enough now to really hear what he’s saying: that this isn’t just about his comfort, but yours. That he wants to take this courtship at your comfort speed, not his.

You don’t think you were wrong to ask him to help you. But at least now, you’re not really upset with him for turning you down, either.

--

You have a lot of important, heavy conversations in succession. You draw lines and create boundaries, come to compromises and agreements over a series of weeks and long, drawn-out dates.

And after each one of these dates, you feel so much better than you have since he’d come back from Asgard. Or with what was left of Asgard.

Thor doesn’t think you’re a pathetic Omega. He thinks you’re attentive and sweet, affectionate and maybe a little over eager. But he likes that. He’s told you, often, that he likes seeing you light up when something excites you. He reminds you how long it’s been since he’s been able to focus on taking moments like those in, and he appreciates every one of them.

You know pushing off telling him the Big Secret will only complicated things later on. And with how open you’ve become with one another, you don’t really want to continue keeping it from him.

You wait until after a movie ends, then turn to face him, practically curled into his side on your couch. You tell him that you have something to say, something important. He bends the arm across the back of the couch and rests his forehead against his fist, one of his clear signs that he’s listening.

“So...that day, when I just showed up in the common area?”

“Yes?”

You want to get the words out. They struggle to fight against the lump in your throat, because saying this is…weird and you know it. You manage to get out, “Well, I didn’t just show up.”

He laughs at that. “I assumed as much, (Y/N). I never took you as one gifted with teleportation.”

And you know it’s a joke, but it doesn’t sit well in your tumultuous stomach. You try to brush off the sick feeling that threatens to take over, knowing it’ll only get worse the longer you drag this out.

“Before you left after Sokovia, I was hanging around the tower. I think...I think it happened at that party, before Ultron showed up.”

You can’t meet his eye. He must feel the nervous energy flowing from you now, because he pushes hair behind your ear, then lets his hand make a slow trail down your arm until he can hook his fingers between yours.

The warmth of his palm reminds you that this is necessary. That, for this courtship to work the way you want it to, you have to be honest with Thor. Ask for forgiveness for not being open about it before, but don’t keep keeping it from him.

“I...don’t know. I saw you at the bar at some point, talking to Steve and Natasha. I guess you looked over at me or just...in my direction or something, but the second you glanced my way, I felt it.”

His lack of response, lack of question, makes you wonder if he’s following. If he is, and he’s this quiet, you think that can’t be a good thing.

But you have to get it out. The exact words, feelings.

“It was like I’d gone fishing and my hook caught in you but you wouldn’t come when I pulled or let the line go. Like every light in the room shone on you and you alone. And- Gods, this all sounds crazy, I know.” You force yourself to look at him again. His expression is blank, but attentive. “But I did- I Imprinted that night. And I- I hoped it would go away. I’ve read about Imprints that fade over time. And you left Earth for two years, so I waited, day after day, for that...tethered feeling to just go away.”

“It didn’t,” he says.

Slowly, you shake your head and smile sadly at him. “So that night, I thought I might try to do something about it, you know? See if I could, I don’t know, get it to go away if I looked at you or something. Never actually heard or read anything about that working before, but I thought Hey, why the hell not? But, Thor, I just wanted you to know that, through it all, I never once let myself believe it was mutual. I-”

“Why?” he asks.

You’re stunned for a moment. You stare at him, dumbfounded and confused. “Wh-why?” you ask back.

“Why would you convince yourself it wasn’t mutual?”

You blink. And blink. And blink again.

“I-I mean. You’re...Thor. And I-”

“You’re (Y/N),” he says as simply as it is true.

“Well, did you Imprint that night too?” you ask him, eyes widening in curiosity and possibility. You even lean a little further into him, hoping for a specific answer but knowing it’s probably not what you’re going to get. The Gods don’t like you that much...do they?

Thor sighs, but his smile returns. “It’s not...quite the same for Alphas, I believe. If what Stark says about him and Pepper is anything to go off of, of course.”

You don’t really know that much about an Alpha Imprinting, now that you think about it. So you wait for him to explain with bated breath, heart stopping every few seconds to skip an anxious beat.

“From what I know, it’s less of a tethering on our end and more of...being tethered. We feel the pull, but more so as a need to protect. A desire to provide for the Omega who’s chosen us. The whole...system, I think, is meant to pull two people together. Sometimes it’s not perfect, but sometimes,” he drifts, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. He kisses the soft skin there, never breaking eye contact with you. “Sometimes it works out.”

“But what about all that time between when I Imprinted and karaoke night? There’s no way I was on your mind for...years like that.” You didn’t mention that he’d famously courted another Omega before you, and that sometimes, even now, Stark employees asked about her when he was around.

“I told you, it’s been so long since I could even consider this.” His hand squeezes yours gently. “I always felt a calling to return to Midgard. Maybe after that night, you were a part of that call. When you found me and Val that day, it was like...like I’d been given answers to questions I didn’t even know I had to ask. Your presence made sense. And that need to protect you only got stronger after you ran that night.”

“Did you know then?” you ask him. “You’d said you hadn’t stopped thinking about me after that night. Was it because you knew I’d Imprinted?”

He takes a second to think, then shrugs. “Maybe. I think I had an inkling, but more than that, I was just following my instincts. Waiting for that tug to come, to help me find you and see you again.”

The more you think on it, the more you realize that this is just...how Thor functions. He’s not a normal Alpha, so why would anything about your relationship with him be normal? He’s told you many times how lonely he’s been the last few years, how unavailable he’d been to Omegas like you before now. How being back on Earth, back with the Avengers, is really what’s given him the time and energy to focus on things outside of the care and safekeeping of his kingdom.

Because, really, they’re not a Kingdom anymore. It’s a whole complicated mess full of legal and international political jargon that you don’t like bringing into your home, so for now, you put that thought to the back of your mind, knowing you’ll come back to it later.

“So, to be clear,” you finally say to him, relaxing against his side again. “You’re...not mad at me for keeping this from you for so long?”

He chuckles. “Why would I be mad? Honestly, I’m rather flattered.”

You’d turn to face him fully, only you’re far too comfortable where you are now. The validation of your feelings blooms a new affection for Thor deep within you, and you silently thank the Gods for giving him to you.

Bashfully, you tell him, “Some Alphas think Imprinting is just a myth. A lie Omegas use to tie them down and force them into bonding.” You know that’s not how Thor operates, but he asked. “I didn’t think you’d be one of those Alphas, but I was still nervous and, honestly, kind of embarrassed to admit it. It’s not...easy to admit that I didn’t really get a say in picking you.”

Without letting go of your hand, he wraps you up entirely in his arms. Thor is warm and huge and so fucking comfortable. He smells, frankly, to die for, and he’s...all yours. Somehow. At least for this moment.

“You don’t regret it, do you?” he asks softly, lips in your hair now.

“Of course not. I just, really, didn’t want you to think I was making it up, using Imprinting as a trap or something.”

“I’d never.”

“I know. If I regret anything, it’s not telling you sooner.” You tuck your face into the safe, inviting little nook between his shoulder and jaw.

The two of you are just a tangle of limbs and two steady heartbeats. The only other words spoken between you for some time are a whispered, tiny, “I forgive you,” from Thor, but you can tell from the scent he gives off and the kisses against your hair that he doesn’t really think there was anything to forgive in the first place.

--

Thor is the single most patient Alpha you’ve ever met, let alone been with. He waits for you to come around, to ask for things other Alphas might just demand of their Omegas. But he’s different, and you know it’s because of the whole not having been able to think about romance in a while thing he constantly brings up.

You like this little transition of power. It’s nothing, really, not in the grand scheme of things. But in your home, it’s kind of...everything at the same time.

By Thor letting you make the moves, he’s consistently telling you that you make the rules. You decide when you’re comfortable letting him in, staying the night. He trusts that you’ll respect his status as the Alpha, and in that trust, he gives you something you didn’t even really know you were missing.

Freedom.

It’s almost chilling to know that. But instead of running from something so gigantic, you run toward it.

You woo him by ordering his favorite food one night, ply him with just a little bit of the ale he likes from the corner store (not like it can get him drunk anyway), and sit far too close to eat when there’s a perfectly good chair across the table from him. Neither of you care, though.

Normally, you two sit on the couch and watch movies after dinner.

Not tonight.

You lead him by the hand to your room, ignoring the couch and the television and everything in between because none of it is important. When he asks where you’re taking him, you don’t answer other than to giggle and open the door to your bedroom without a second thought.

You have no doubts. No second guesses. You are absolutely certain you want this.

So you don’t hesitate to pull him into your room. Thor stops short after you’ve shut the door, but he just looks around your space. Wonder and curiosity line his eyes, and his hand loosens around yours as he takes everything in.

If an Omega’s home is sacred, their bedroom is the most protected place in the home. It’s a place only those an Omega trusts fully get to see. So you let Thor take in everything - the dark blue-gray walls, the golden star stickers placed in cascading patterns all around the room, the matching blue and gold bedding, your desk against the far wall with just a stack of papers, your computer, and a lamp on it - and feel proud that he seems to be in awe.

You might never know if you moved closer to his side or if he pulled you against him, but suddenly, you’re practically clinging to his torso. He looks down at you and smiles, baby blues shining like an afternoon storm.

“This all…” he gestures to the room at large, “feels very you.”

“You like it?” you ask, chin against his shoulder as you look up at him.

He shakes his head, but it’s his unwavering smile that keeps you from worrying. “Love it,” he whispers, lowering his face so his lips barely touch yours.

Your mind wraps itself around the true meaning of his words. The energy he’s giving off is electric - excited and relaxed and warm and a little frantic - and you melt into it. You press your lips up to his, and he breathes you in deep.

In what feels like an instant, he hooks his hands under your knees and lifts you until your knees are at his sides. He walks you both to the bed and turns to sit on the edge of your mattress with you in his lap, calves against the sides of his thighs.

You start to pull back and take in the position he has you in because...it’s so...not Alpha behavior. Everyone Alpha you’ve been with before has pinned you down and taken you their way, and you’ve been just fine with that. There’s nothing wrong with following one’s nature, you know, as long as everyone involved consents.

But this...you on top…

You almost move to lay on the mattress yourself, because the idea of being nearly crushed by Thor’s weight is so enticing.

But then his hands slide up and around you. He pulls you closer, until your chests are pressed to one another with no space between them. His fingers dig into your back a bit, just to be as close to you as possible, and your breath gets caught in your throat.

The feeling you get when you’re beneath an Alpha - a feeling of trust and comfort and being protected - fills you. It deepens when you, slowly, reach out and wrap your arms around Thor’s broad shoulders. His scent clogs your brain, and you whine needily because of it.

“You okay?” he asks breathily, eyes heavy-lidded as he watches you carefully.

You nod. “Just...not used to this, I guess.”

“You want me to-”

“No,” you whisper. Your hips stutter to make your point. “No, I like it.”

His smile broadens somehow. “Good,” he responds. “Me too.”

You let yourself think that he’s unlike other Alphas one more time. And then you lose yourself in the best fathomable way.

Your clothes are gone in a flash - before you can even recognize how - and your skin gets hot, almost like you’re in heat when you’re not. You know you’re not because there isn’t an inherent, desperate desire for Thor within you that springs forth painfully. Every sensation of lust and want and admiration is totally normal, coming from a place of trust, knowing you’ve both earned it from one another.

He was right to want to wait for this. There’s no pain at all, actually. No annoying nagging of your internal clock reminding you that you’re of ripe reproducing age.

There’s just you and Thor and heat and fun and freedom. And that combination makes his touch all the more sweet, all the more intense against your back.

Maybe you’re not in heat, but you’re still positively drenched for him. He’s long and wide, but still presses into you without much resistance. Your walls are tight around him, and you feel every inch of his cock stretch you out, delicious seconds of tension fading until you’re seated fully on him.

When you’re able to look him in the eye again, all you see reflected in his one shiny orb is a culmination of all the things you’re feeling, too. Words you can’t say yet, only partially because you’re out of breath. Things you’re saving for another day, because right now, all that matters is Thor’s hands on your hips, raising you up off his lap and back down again.

You like being in control of the position, you realize, but you also like when he takes the lead and pounds into you, rendering most of your body useless and totally at his mercy. He’s rough without being aggressive, just tight fingers and loud moaning and tense teeth against your own. He’s, truly, not like any other Alpha you know or have ever known.

Pressure builds within you, increases when one of his hands slides down your body until his fingers find your clit. He rubs small circles into your wet, sensitive skin, and you pull your mouth from his because kissing is nearly impossible when your chest feels this tight. Breathing isn’t coming easily, but you���re not complaining because you’re positive that you’re ascending to another plane of existence.

A gate breaks open. Pleasure - hot, enormous waves of it - washes over you, engulfing you like Thor’s arms do. Everything is him and this lovely, dirty, star-shattering feeling inside of you. You cry out his name. His teeth find your shoulder and dig in - not too far from where he might leave a mark one day, you briefly think - and the pain adds to the lofty, intense sensations rolling through you.

Your walls squeezing him bring Thor over - his knot swells, despite not being in a rut. He fills you with his cum, which you know won’t do anything until you’re off the blockers. For now, for once, you’re kind of grateful for them.

He goes into Total Alpha mode when you both calm down. Thor turns you both, lays you on your comforter, and kisses you tenderly to distract you before he pulls out. The distraction only works so much, but you only whine because you already miss the feeling of him inside you. You relax beneath the satisfactory gleam in his eye, one that seems to promise that he’s not going anywhere, that that feeling will return soon enough.

You whine again when he backs off the bed, but he only chuckles at the sound, shaking his head as he heads to your bathroom. You listen as he rummages around, turns the sink on and off, and finally returns with one wet washcloth and one dry one.

“Is this you calling it a night?” you ask, a little weakly because your body’s more exhausted than you’d like to admit.

He gently presses the wet washcloth to the spots along your thighs were your release has mixed with his and spread. “We have work in the morning,” is his response.

You don’t really like it, but he’s right. If you’d had the next...day or two off, you’d keep going, never leave the bed if that was what Thor wanted. It’s absolutely what you want.

But it’s already kind of late, and indulging on a work night doesn’t entirely seem smart.

“But, just for the record,” you try again, unconsciously spreading your legs further for him, “we could go again if we wanted to, right?” You bite your bottom lip, but that doesn’t hide the downright smirk you’re giving him.

His matches yours. “Of course.”

You let him clean you up in relative silence, satisfied with that answer. You almost...wish you were in heat - the both of you could call out of work and stay here, go as many times as your body required. But you know his rule - his only rule - and you don’t regret sticking to it.

When he gets in bed beside you, you realize that you won’t be needing the comforter below you. His skin his scalding, and he insists on holding you as close as he can get you. You’re still sticky from earlier sweat, and you know more is to come if he’s going to be so close all night, but you somehow don’t seem to mind.

A little while later, before your eyes start to feel too heavy, you sigh and finally tell Thor, “I’m on suppressants, you know.”

He nods. “I do.” When you give him a questioning, confused look, he shrugs. “I found them on the counter one night. I wanted to ask about them, but…”

You face him and scratch the tip of his chin with a single pointer finger. “But?”

“You have every right to choose to be on them or not, (Y/N). And I couldn’t fathom a way of bringing up the subject with you that didn’t innately make me sound controlling.”

“So you’re okay with me taking them then?”

“I…” He takes a second, but seems to fight a war with himself. You can’t stop your heart from sinking in the stretch of his silence. “I’m an Alpha. I try not to think of medications like that in this way, but it does almost feel as though you take them to keep me at arm’s length.”

Maybe at first you think. But not for the reasons you’re considering. 

“No,” you whisper instead. “No, I started taking them when I thought Val was your mate. When I thought I was just some dumb Omega with a biological crush on you but had no chance of ever getting- well, where I am now, I guess.”

“And now?”

You can’t help but frown because your answer is...not as meaningful as you’d wish it was. “Now I just-” You sigh. “They’re just a habit now. And I have to say, they were kind of a godsend during my last heat.”

You know you didn’t say that to make Thor feel worse, but his own frown deepens anyway. You shake your head.

“I just mean that fighting the pain alone was nearly impossible before. But last time, it was bearable. Doesn’t mean it has to be that way every time, though.”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

You give him a small, hopeful smile. “I can be persuaded to stop taking them. They were just a way to protect myself when I thought you were already taken.”

Something stirs in him so quickly, you nearly miss it. But it’s not fleeting, and you can tell by the slow buildup of something against your leg. His smile returns, stretching out across his glorious face at the same pace.

“Funny how those things work themselves out, isn’t it?” he asks.

[anagentinwriting]

Subscribe - Part 15

Summary: (Modern AU) Peter was your college sweetheart until a certain event led to your break up. Seven years later another event brings you two back together, but this time a little girl is in the picture. Will listening to your podcasts be the reason you two get back together or be another reason to keep you apart?

Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader

Word Count: 2705

Warnings: Angst, little fluff, swearing, heartbreak...

Subscribe Masterlist / Main Masterlist

You felt someone press their lips to your forehead, but you kept your eyes closed to savor the moment. Did he still love you like you did him? You heard footsteps walk across your bedroom, and the door slowly creaked open. It felt like forever before you finally heard the door click shut. You leaned up, holding the sheet to your chest, unable to keep the smile off your face. It was nothing new to see Peter slip out early because he always did when you were dating in college. This meant he had to work early, or he went to get coffee and doughnuts. Either way, you weren't surprised. You yawned, rubbing your eyes as you peeked at the clock. You had a half hour before your alarm went off and there was no way you were going to fall back asleep. 

You crashed your head back down onto your pillows, shaking your head and grinning up at the ceiling. Peter's confession left you speechless, and after everything, he still felt something for you as you did for him. What was going to happen now?

After dropping off Meredith at school, you headed to the coffee shop near Potts of Honey. You only did this on certain days, but it felt like you and Wanda deserved a little treat. Or it could've been that you needed a little extra caffeine after your extracurricular activities last night. Walking into your building, you smiled at Drax, the head of security, and handed him a caramel frappuccino with extra whip. You never figured him for an extra whip kind of guy, but you never could read his strange demeanor. 

You stopped by Wanda’s office to drop off her coffee before the morning meeting, leaving a sticky note saying, Free coffee ;). Wanda would know who it was from so you didn’t bother signing it. 

During the morning meeting, you continued to come up with ideas left and right. There were many items discussed, including the upcoming plans for the NY facility, new toy ideas, and popular topics to talk about on the podcast. The smirk on Pepper's face and the devilish smile appearing on Wanda’s face right next to you didn’t go unnoticed. 

“To conclude this meeting, I want to share that a few individuals may be getting promoted in the coming weeks.” She stared right at you. “Some of you may also be eligible to work in the NY facility if you so desire because I understand many of you have families here. Those without any ties may have a tough choice ahead of them. Thank you all for coming this morning. I know it was long and boring, but I loved everyone’s enthusiasm.” 

“She means you cheery,” Wanda whispered, looking at you behind her. You scoffed, rolling your eyes at her.

On the way back to your office, you and Wanda realized you both had a ton of research to do before the podcast tomorrow. Typing away on your computer, you made a few notes about baby wipes and peeked over at Wanda to find her watching you. “What?”

“You had sex, didn’t you?”

“WHAT! No, I didn’t!” You replied, narrowing your eyes at her.

“Who was it with? Cause the amount of ideas you supplied at this morning's meeting doesn’t happen unless you got a little bow chicka wow wow,” She winked, continuing to press you. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, then the hickey below your ear is telling me a different story.” You reached up below your ear, then quickly dug out a small mirror from your desk to find a hickey. Thank god you wore your hair down today. “You see YN, I have this 6th sense, where I can detect when people have had sex,” she admitted, forcing you to roll your eyes and shake your head. “It’s true, why do you think Pepper has been in such a good mood lately? Sex. Then there is Ron from the maintenance department, who always wears a red shirt after he had sex. Or Drax our security guard downstairs well that one doesn’t count since he always tells me when he has sex. He thinks it’s a beautiful thing.”

“OH MY GOD, STOP! I don’t need to hear about other people’s sex lives.”

“Suit yourself. Who was it with?”

“You don’t know him.”

“So, you did have sex.” You gave her a straight face nod. “It was Peter, wasn’t it?”

“What! Why would you think that?”

“You have a history, and you're not the type of girl to have a one night stand with a guy you don’t know.”

You scoffed. “It doesn’t matter. I'm not going to let it happen again.”

“Hmmk, I’ll try and believe that. So you kissed him first?”

“WHAT? How could you know that? Can you read minds or something?”

“You will never know,” she joked, adding a wink. “Was it good?”

“Fine, I’ll tell you, but then we have to get to work.” She shut her laptop and leaned in closer to you so she wouldn’t miss anything. “He showed up at my door.”

“And he was wearing a trench coat, and you jump him right there.”

“No, oh my god, no.” You shook your head, narrowing your eyes at her. “Why would you...nevermind. I don't want to know what you and Vis do on the weekends.”

“Fair enough,” she smirked.

You told her what happened, starting with his confession which ended up with you two getting busy between the sheets. She smiled and seemed generally happy for you. Wanda wanted you to start dating him again, but you still weren't sure if you were ready. Having shared feelings for one another was one thing, but being the first to act on them was always the hardest part. 

You never understood how Wanda could figure out such personal things, but you still adored her for it. After lunch, everything flew by, and before you realized it, you were leaving work early for the first time in weeks. It only happened a few times out of the year, but when it did, you took full advantage of it. You glanced at your phone in the elevator seeing a text from the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

Peter: Hey ;)

Peter: Finished up at the studio early. We are at my apartment.

YN: On my way. Done early, too. See you soon :)

He didn’t reply back, but you assumed he was playing with Mer or helping her with her homework. That little girl could keep anyone busy.

Parking your car in the parking ramp, you walked into Peter’s apartment building saying a quick hello to Stan, the doorman. You still couldn’t get over how fancy this place was. It had all the amenities of a hotel, but it was in your own home. There was a pool, a gym with personal trainers, and a spa, complete with a massage therapist and a manicurist. Peter even had his own washer-dryer unit in his apartment. When you have all these things, you know you’re doing something right. You got into the elevator and clicked on the floor to his apartment. As it rose higher and higher, your stomach fluttered with nerves making your fingers tingle.

You stepped out of the elevator and made your way to his apartment door. Your heart was beating faster, and your palms started to feel damp. Why were you so nervous? You’ve slept with him tons of times. Heck, you even had a child with him. You let out a deep breath before knocking on the door. The door opened, and the smile that appeared on your face so easy this morning quickly disappeared in an instance.

“Hi, you must be YN. I’m Bereet, Peter’s girlfriend,” she waved with an intoxicating smile.

Your nerves and excitement were gone replaced with a sharp pain to your chest. This time you couldn’t leave a message and run away. This time your daughter was in there. This was like deja vu, but this time you were the other woman.

“Why don’t you come on in.” 

He has a girlfriend. Peter, who you slept with last night, has a girlfriend. You could feel the blood drain from your face as you stepped into his apartment. His confession. Your confession. Your bed. Last night should've never happened. You ran your hand through your hair, staring hard at the floor. If you knew he was in a relationship, you never would have gone that far. An unpleasant feeling of guilt sat in the pit of your stomach weighing you down. 

“They should be out at any second,” she grinned, closing the door behind you. 

“How long have you and Peter been together?” You questioned, deciding to make small talk. Maybe, they haven’t been dating long and aren’t in the serious stages yet. But if they are serious, why didn't Peter ever mention it or at least ask if it was okay to introduce her to Mer?

“About four months now. Wow! I can’t believe it has already been that long,” she chuckled, shaking her head. 

Shit. You forced a tight-lipped smiled and heard Mer’s giggles getting closer. Peter came flying into the room with Mer on his back, giving her a piggyback ride. He stopped dead in his tracks looking between you and Bereet. “Hey, YN. You’re here early.” You nodded at him realizing he must’ve never got your text. You weren’t sure if you were grateful for it or upset by it. 

“Mommy,” Meredith smiled, sliding down Peter’s back and sprinting over to you. 

“Did you have fun?” Your fake smile from earlier spread into a real one. 

“Yes! And dad helped me with homework.”

“How do you think he did?”

“I’ll find out tomorrow,” she said, making you and Peter chuckle. 

“Are you ready to go then?” 

“Yes, let me grab my stuff first.” You watched her take off down the hall as your eyes drifted back over to Peter. He was staring at you as if he was trying to read your mind. His eyes were filled with worry making a crease form between his brows. 

“She is so cute, Peter,” Bereet commented, sliding up next to him. “I can see so much of you in her. It’s crazy.” She rested her head on his shoulder, intertwining her hand with his. You gulped, looking away wishing Meredith would speed it up. You didn't want to be here anymore. All you wanted to do was leave.

“Mer has more of her mother in her than me,” Peter stated with a slight smirk in your direction. You gave him a half-shrug, eyeing the hallway Mer disappeared down.

“Okay, I am ready to go.” She walked back into the room, slipping her backpack onto her little shoulders. “Dad I left my book about the galaxy so if you wanted to look at you can. There are a ton of cool facts in it.”

“Thanks, Twig.” Peter nodded, pulling out of Bereets grasp. “I’ll walk you two out.”

In the elevator ride down, you avoided any eye contact with Peter. You weren’t sure what you were feeling right now, but it was somewhere between frustrated, heartbroken, and pissed off. Mer and Peter made lite conversation about school and cracked a few jokes. You smiled down at Mer a few times giving Peter the side-eye. You wanted to tell him off right there, but you didn’t want the little ears to hear it. How could he do this to you? You knew the truth behind the past mistake, but why did you feel like nothing got resolved?

Mer held onto Peter's hand as they walked to your parked car. Peter grabbed her backpack and helped her into her car seat. “Take care of your mom for me, Twig.”

“I will, Daddy.” She pulled him in and kissed him on the cheek.  

“See you tomorrow,” he smirked, kissing her forehead. He closed the door and waved goodbye to her through the window. He came around the back to the open trunk, setting Mer's backpack inside before turning to you. “YN, I’m...” 

“I don’t want to hear another apology out of your mouth,” you interrupted, putting your hand up to stop him. Your emotions were all over the place, and it was hard to pinpoint exactly what you were feeling.  You had the urge to slap him, but you also wanted to cry over a tub of ice cream.  He nodded, pressing his lips into a firm line. “Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone?"

"I...."

"You know what--" you cut him off, pinching the bridge of your nose "--last night was just a heat of the moment thing, and it shouldn't have happened. It shouldn't have gone that far." 

“It wasn’t a heat of the moment thing for either of us, and you know it,” Peter confessed, trying to step towards you, but you backed out of his reach. 

“It doesn’t matter.” You shake your head, biting your lip. “Bereet told me you've been together for four months, Peter. That’s a big deal, and you introducing Mer to her must mean you really care about Bereet.” Your voice cracked, making you pause before continuing. “I mean, you could have talked to me before you introduced Mer to Bereet, but I guess we never had that conversation about introducing significant others to her.”

“Wait, you think...” Peter started as his face scrunched up, but you interrupted him. 

“The few guys I dated after you. I didn’t even introduce Mer to them. They knew I had a daughter, but I wanted to make sure it could turn into something before she got attached to them.” You gulped, noticing Peter’s jaw clench. “Look, Bereet adores you, and I can tell she is important to you, too. I don’t want to be ‘the other woman’ that ruined your relationship and your chance at happiness.” You slammed the trunk lid down, staring into the rear window to see Mer listening to her iPod. “Even if it’s not with me,” you whispered to yourself.

“You haven’t ruined anything.”

“You’re right because nothing happened between us,” You croaked, turning around to face him.

“For once in your life will you stop talking and listen to me,” Peter shouted louder than he intended, making your eyes widen. He glanced in the rear window but looked relieved once he noticed Mer was on her iPod. 

“No. I’m done listening,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Today, I woke up feeling happier than I have been in a long time, and you were the reason for it. I have always had a soft spot for you, Peter, and no matter how much time has passed between us, it will always be there.” Peter stepped closer to you as his eyes filled with concern, but you took a step back. You didn't want to be the other women. You didn’t want to end a relationship because of a stupid mistake. You would be the bigger person and walk away from him like you did before. It would hurt, but it always does. 

“Why do you think I was so open to having you involved in Mer’s life? It wasn’t just because you’re her dad. And fuck, just like I imagined, you're a great father to her--" You bit your lip, feeling the corner of your eyes well up with tears. You looked away from him, feeling a tear slide down your cheek. "--But you can be a real a-hole of a person sometimes," you sniffled, wiping away the stray tear with your forearm. “I thought about asking you if you wanted to give this another go between us, but then um--” you shake your head, clearing your throat “--I need to get Mer home. I’ll see you around, Quill.” You took a step away from him and turned your back on him without giving him a second look and got into your car. 

He watched your rear lights disappear around the corner of the parking structure and shook his head. It was like deja vu; reliving his worst memory all over again. “FUCK,” he screamed, kicking a nonexistent pebble on the ground.

______

AN: Ohh and just when I got your hopes up in the last part...I'm the worst. Some of you probably hate me right now, but that's okay...we'll get past this! Were any of you surprised to see Bereet at his apartment? I thought it would be one hell of a shocking moment in the story! And what about the reader and her emotions...kind of all over the place, but she was able to tell Peter how she really felt about him. Deep breaths though...it will get better...maybe! As always, thanks for reading! And thank you all for the likes, reblogs, and comments; I appreciate every one!

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Unexpected Arrival - 6

Pairing: Bucky x Reader, possible Steve x Reader

Summary: As if working with the Avengers wasn’t exciting enough…. an unexpected visitor is about to change your life forever.

"There you guys are" Nat stated as me and Bucky walked into the common room together "where you been?"

"Buck was just helping me with something...."

"You’re not gonna end up pregnant again are you?" She smirked.

"Oh my god" i shook my head feeling my cheeks burn "really Nat?"

"What? Im just curious"

"Leave them alone" Steve scolded her as he rocked Evie gently in his arms.

"Fine! Y/N fancy coming shopping with me?" Nat asked looking hopeful.

"Id love to but im not really feeling up to it just yet"

"Okay, how about online shopping? I know you still need to get some things"

"I can do that" i nodded smiling at her.

"Lets go to my room, daddy and uncle Steve can watch miss Evie here"

"Um... ok" i turned to look at Bucky and Steve who both nodded and smiled.

"We'll be fine sweetheart" Bucky said "we know where to find you if we need you"

"Okay, if she gets hungry give her the bottle?"

"Sure, I've got this don't worry".

"Bottle? I thought you were breast feeding?" Nat looked at me "you decide to switch to formula?"

"Don't ask.... lets just go" i blushed and quickly walked out the room before i died of embarrassment.

"It was so humiliating Nat!! He was milking me like a damn cow! But i was in so much pain....." i was saying to her after she made me tell her everything, my face buried in my hands as i thought about what had happened, Nat was laughing so hard i reached over and shoved her.

"Hey!"

"Its not funny!! I really dont stand a chance with him now do i!?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean if he wasn't interested before this....then i stand no chance now he’s had to do that!" I threw myself back on her bed dramatically "i thought the birth was the hardest part of having Evie.... but my god was i wrong! Sure it was the most painful part" i laughed "but all this stuff that comes after..... the hormones... the leaky boobs.... and having to deal with all this with Bucky.... knowing he wont ever feel the way i feel...."

"Okay listen to me, you might not see it but that man out there is crazy about you!"

"Are you mad?" I laughed shaking my head at my best friend.

"Maybe, its not impossible" she shrugged making me chuckle "but I'm telling you, Bucky loves you. I see the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is looking, even before you guys had a kid together"

"If he loved me like you say he does, why did he act like nothing happened in Alaska??"

"Now that i don't know" she shrugged while opening up the online shopping pages on the big screen "you'd have to ask him".

(Buckys POV)

"You okay Buck?" Steve asked making me turn to look at him "you've been unusually quiet"

"Yeah... yeah im fine. Just thinking"

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Its just... never mind" i shook my head feeling like a dumb ass.

"Talk to me, whats on your mind?"

"I thought i could do this, you know? I thought i could be a dad to Evie and just carry on being friends with Y/N.... but its so hard not to feel more"

"Are you saying you have feelings for Y/N?"

"Ive always had feelings for her Steve, how do you think we got here! I have loved that girl from the second i met her" i finally admitted with a huge smile, it felt good to finally get it off my chest.

"This is big Buck! But i dont get it....why did you act like nothing happened after you guys slept together? You ignored her.... dated other women...."

"Wait how do you know.... has she spoken to you about what happened?" My smile dropped as i sat forward looking at Steve.

"No! No of course not!" Steve said quickly clearly lying! He was the worst liar ever!

"What did she say?"

"Nothing...."

"Steve i swear to god if you don't tell me...."

"I cant say okay, i promised her i wouldn't say anything"

"As my best and oldest friend, you better tell me what you know Steve"

Steve exhaled slowly shaking his head as he looked down at my sleeping daughter in his arms.

"Look all im going to say is if you love her, you need to tell her. Because she doesn't believe that you could possibly love her.... that she's not good enough"

"What??" I sat shaking my head "why would she ever think that??"

"You tell me Buck"

Then it suddenly made sense, i understood what Steve meant.

"Shit" i muttered pushing my hair back from my face "its because of how i acted after....."

"Why'd you do it?"

"Because i thought she deserved better, someone better than me. She's so good.... in every way and im..... well we all know how fucked up i am"

"Bucky you are not fucked up! We know that.... she knows that"

"How could she ever love me Steve?"

"I dont know pal but she does"

"What??"

"You never heard this from me you hear me??!" Steve said looking around to make sure no one else was around and i nodded quickly "Y/N loves you.... she's in love with you you idiot! She has been for a while"

"She never said anything....."

"Neither did you! She was hoping that after Alaska things would change"

"But then i ignored her and pushed her away...how could i have been so stupid!!!"

"She's convinced herself that you regretted it, that you could never love her and so she's trying to be your friend..."

"What do i do Steve?"

"Thats your call Buck"

I huffed falling back against the sofa, was Steve telling me the truth?? Was is possible that Y/N loved me??

"Can i ask you something?" I asked turning my head to face Steve, he nodded and waited for me to ask my question "do you have feelings for her?"

"W..what??" Steve stuttered as his cheeks flushed red.

"Its a simple question Steve"

"Its not a simple answer Buck...."

That night i was in bed laying on my side watching Evie sleeping in her basket next to me. The bedroom door opened and closed gently and i already knew it was Bucky, i felt the bed dip as he laid down and then his arm wrapped around my waist as he pulled himself closer.

"Hey doll" he mumbled quietly before pressing a kiss to my neck.

"Hey"

"How was your evening with Nat?"

"It was nice, i ordered some nipple pads so no more embarrassing leaks!" I said chuckling, Bucky was laughing quietly behind me "and i figured out that damn pump.... the weirdest feeling ever!"

"Oh yeah? Even weirder than what we had to do earlier?" He laughed and tightened his hold on me.

"Definitely! your way was more enjoyable" i teased but also felt my cheeks burn at the confession, thank god it was dark so he couldn't see!

"Well I'm always happy to help".

We laid in a comfortable silence both watching our daughter sleep, Bucky was stroking my stomach where his hand rested, i wasnt even sure he knew he was doing it.

"Hey Buck?"

"Yeah doll?"

"I need to ask you something...."

"Okay"

"I dont want you to get mad though, im just curious...."

"Spit it out sweetheart, you can ask me anything"

I took a deep breath gathering my nerves, i had to get this over with!!

"Why did you act like nothing happened that night in Alaska?"

His hand stilled on my stomach for a few seconds and i felt him hold his breath.

"You know what, forget i asked..." i said starting to get up but he pulled me back down to the bed holding me close again.

"Dont go" he said quietly "you just caught me off guard.... you really wanna know why?"

"Yes...."

"I acted like nothing happened because when i woke up i realised you deserved better than me doll. After everything I've done in the past.... i don't deserve someone like you. Id only be a burden on you"

"What....?" I asked not believing what i was hearing, i turned around so i was facing him "how can you say that?"

"Its true" he said giving me a sad smile.

"You’re an idiot James Barnes" i shook my head "you’re not a burden, you are the best man i know" i admitted cupping his face in my hands.

"Well thats not true.... you know Steve"

"You’re still the best man i know" i smiled at him meaning every word.

"But the things ive done...."

"That wasnt you, that was Hydra! If you had been in control of your mind you would never had done any of those things"

"But i still did it" he said sadly.

"It. Wasnt. You" i said again looking him in the eyes "you are a good man Bucky, i know you find that hard to hear but its true. And i will tell you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to" i smiled at him before leaning forward and gently kissing him.

"Doll...." he said pulling away from the kiss, shit! had i really just kissed him??

"Im sorry! I shouldn't have...."

"I love you!" he confessed instantly shutting me up.

"What did you just say....?"

"I said i love you.... im IN Love with you. Ive loved you since the second i met you" he admitted, i could tell by the look in his eyes that admitting this terrified him.

"I love you too" i told him truthfully, if he was being honest it was only fair that i did the same.

"You do?"

"Yes" i whispered before his mouth came crashing down on mine. His hands felt like they were everywhere and it was the best feeling in the world right now. It quickly became heated, i could feel his hardness rubbing against me.

"Buck....as much as i want you inside me right now i cant.... not yet" i pulled away gasping for air.

"I know baby, this is enough for now" he said as he trailed kisses down my neck and continued rubbing up against me.

"You’re gonna be the death of me Barnes!"

Taglist: @booktease21 @founding-fuck-bois @whynot3027 @xpunishedx @siren-queen03

@we-are-all-wild-things

[buckthegrump]

The Only One - 3

Word Count: 1414

Warnings: angst, swear words,

A/N: oh my god why did I decide to be a moody bitch?

pervious parts on my masterlist

“I think we should cancel the trip and let him be happy,” you said and you heard Peggy sigh.

“Y/n do you remember when you came back from college? And we met? You mom was still sick? Do you remember how much you said that you wished your mother wasn’t sick so you could go back to the man you loved? Do you remember how long it took you to get over him? Because I do. I remember every self-sabotaged date, every time you thought you see him someplace, and I remember your mother’s funeral when you almost called him. You should’ve called him that day. He would have come running to you.”

“I remember but I also know that I had to give him a chance to move on for his happiness. Because what if this isn’t a case of the ‘right person wrong time’? What if Luca is the right person for me?”

“Oh that’s complete and utter bullshit Y/n and you know it. He has never shown any grief that you were going on a trip. Not to mention this trip that is to get the love of your life to run away with you. The trip you said was for business and you didn’t know how long it would take.” Peggy was basically yelling right now. “You basically bought a one-way ticket to the other side of the country.”

“That’s because I don’t truly love him.” You blurt and instantly cover your mouth.

“Ah ha!” She pointed at you. “I fucking knew it. And besides, I know what true love looks like and what Dot and Bucky have is not it. Now what you and Bucky have, that’s true love you two idiots are willing to give up your happiness to let the other be happy. I have a news flash for ya, neither one of you is truly happy. So get off your ass and go be with the man you love.”

“I have to break it off with Luca before we leave don’t I?” You asked.

“Luca is a very nice person and what you are doing to him isn’t fair,” Peggy said and you knew she was right.

So you left Peggy’s place and you went to Luca’s work. You got to his office and he looked very happy to see you until he saw the look on your face.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” He kissed your forehead.

“This isn’t going to work.” You looked at him hoping for some sort of emotion but you don’t see anything.

“You want to break off the engagement?” He sounded a little angry.

“I’m so sorry.” You place the ring in his hand.

“Get out.” His voice is low and almost scares. You immediately do as he says and walk back home. You call Tony and ask for his help moving things out of the apartment. He agreed and says he’ll bring a team of people.

“Thank you so much, Tony.” You said as the people help you move the last of your stuff out.

“Of course, but now you can tell me what changed your mind? I thank god because he was so bland but why did you call it off?” Tony looked at you and sees the look you have on your face. “Is it that Bucky guy?”

“I mean we didn’t truly love each other but yeah also kind of because of Bucky,” you said and he shakes his head.

“I have to meet this guy. When do you and Peggy leave?”

“Tonight.”

“Do you want me to store this at my place until you have your life all figured out?”

“Yes please.”

“The things I do for you,” He said and wrapped his arm around you.

“Thank you so much, Tony, I’ll call you after we get there.”

“Ok stay safe kiddo.” He hugged you and you make your way back to Peggy’s place.

It’s been exactly a year since you’ve been in the town you went to college. And things couldn’t be more different. You were no longer engaged and you were here to break up a wedding. Your mother would be so proud, ok maybe not but that wasn’t going to change your mind. Natasha picked you up from the airport.

“Oh my god, I’m so excited to see you guys. I have so much to tell you that’s happened between the last time we spoke.” You three tried to have weekly Skype dates or phone class but that didn’t always work out, you haven’t had a really long conversation in a few weeks but it wasn’t bothersome since you and Peggy would be in town for the wedding.

“Lay it on us,” Peggy said and Natasha drove you to her house.

“So first of all Dot very last minute was like will you be my maid of honor, and do you think Peggy and the other one will be bridesmaids too? Obviously, she’s asking because she has no friends,” Nat started.

“What about Maria?” You asked.

“Maria said no.”

“Well, we also say no.” You said.

“No, we say yes,” Peggy contradicted.

“Why the fuck would we say yes?” You turned to her.

“We can sabotage the wedding from the inside,” Peggy smiled.

“Why was I referred to as ‘the other one? She knows my name.”

“Ok, I think she’s threatened by you. Because at first, she said that Bucky couldn’t invite you, but then after Bucky said that you were for sure coming she did a complete 180 and asked me to ask you to be a bridesmaid. And at first, I was like why the fuck?” There was no stopping her now. “But then I was like oh keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I hate her but that is pretty smart of her. Except when Bucky has to choose between you and her he’ll choose you every time.”

“I’m not so sure, I think he might still be mad at me for never coming back.” You are finally able to get a word in.

“That was 7 years ago,” Peggy said and you turned to her.

“If the person you thought you would spend the rest of your life with said to you I will try my hardest to come back to you and then after they didn’t call and two they basically fell off the face of the earth then 6 years later came back engaged, would you be completely fine?”

“But you’re not engaged anymore,” Peggy pointed out.

“But he is,” you said.

“Wait did you and Luke or whatever get married and not invite me?” Nat looked panicked.

“Luca. Not exactly. I broke off the engagement.”

“For Bucky?” She asked.

“I mean he was a part of it but no not just because of him we didn’t truly love each other and in time he’ll see that,” you said.

“When did you break it off?” Nat asked.

“This morning.” She stopped the car and looked at you.

“This morning?” She stared for a second. “Are you ok?”

“I guess. All my stuff is living at Tony’s but yeah I’m good.”

“Ok.” She continued driving until she got to her house. You and Peggy grabbed your things from the trunk and carry them inside and find Steve and Sam there. They almost knocked you over when they gave you a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Sam said letting go.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” You said into Steve’s chest because he hasn’t let go, you don’t mind though because Steve hugs are the best hugs.

“Please help us get Bucky away from this toxic women,” Steve semi whispers to you.

“I’ll do my best.” He finally let go. “But he’s probably still mad that I left for so long.” You tell them the same thing you told Nat.

“After 7 years?” Sam cocked an eyebrow. You throw your head back.

“That’s what I said!” Peggy yelled.

“Jesus Christ,” you whispered then turned to Natasha. “What are we doing today?”

“Well since you both agreed to be bridesmaids we have to go get fitted and Dot will be there because she’s afraid we might try and ruin her wedding.”

“Why did you agree to be bridesmaids?” Steve asked.

“To ruin the wedding,” Peggy answered with a shit-eating grin.

“Are we bad people?” Sam asked.

“No, we are doing this in service to a friend.” Nat patted his back.

“No, we are terrible people,” you said.

[phantomwarrior12]

Finally Home (End)

Summary: Sometimes the journey home is the hardest part, but it’s a journey well worth it.

Word Count: 3,444

Warnings: Canon-style swearing, angst, fluff, the works

A/N: Hey folks!

This is it, the final chapter of Saudade. It’s been a journey, for lack of a better word. I began this series a little under a year ago and I don’t think I’ve had this much fun exploring a character’s psyche as I did with Felix. :)

Thank you to all of y’all who stuck around and took an interest in this story, despite my...unreliable posting schedule. Y’all are fabulous and I love you!

Enjoy this final chapter! :)

~ Phantom

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

"You're nightmares are getting worse."

Isaac allows the heels of his hands to fall away from his eyes, stars and spots fading with ever blink.

"What?"

"You spent the night tossing and turning...and screaming." Sam doesn't look up from his sniper rifle, running a cloth over the scope for what seems like the hundredth time.

"They're not that bad," Isaac waves him off, pushing himself upwards from the bed and shuffling across the floor to wash his face.

"Really?" Skeptical inquiry.

"Yes. Now let it go," Isaac snaps, splashing cool water over sweat-slicked skin.

"Felix--"

"Let. It. Go." Isaac retorts, turning a meaningful glower on his partner.

Sam arches an eyebrow but turns back to the weapon in his hand, "Mason reached out."

The towel drops away from his face as he wheels about to face Sam, "What'd he say?"

"He was checking in, wanted to see if we had reconciled."

"And what'd you tell him?" Isaac arches an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest.

Sam levels grey on the lean mercenary, gauging the expression etched into his partner's features, "That it's a work in progress."

Isaac tilts his head, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth, "How very Locus of you."

"What does that even mean?"

Isaac offers a shrug and turns back to the dated mirror, "You've always been a cautious guy, Ortez. You don't rush into things or jump to conclusions. You like to take things slow."

"Experience has dictated--"

"--you rely a little too much on past experiences, Sam. People change and you gotta adapt."

Sam rolls his eyes and returns to reassembling his weapon, "sometimes caution is the best adaptation."

Isaac waves him off as he shuffles back over to his cot, collapsing onto the sheets with a sigh, "Cautious is no way to live, Sam."

"No, but it's a good way to stay alive." Sam returns, deliberately avoiding Isaac's eyes.

"Fair enough," Isaac concedes, rolling onto his side to watch his partner give the rifle one final inspection.

"Ortez?"

He receives a grunt of acknowledgement.

"You ever think about leaving?"

Sam pauses, hesitant as he lays the weapon back on the table and turns to face Isaac, "Sometimes. Why?"

"Well, we've been here for a little over a year and half, and while the Reds and Blues and their petty bickering are amusing, shouldn't we be doing something more? I mean, don't get me wrong, the guys are great and all, but, it doesn't feel right, you know?"

Sam nods slowly, "I know what you mean. Does this mean you want to leave?"

"Maybe. I don't know." Isaac scrubs at his face, rubbing at weary bags beneath his eyes. "I want to see Mason again, see the girls. I'm tired of this life, and while these guys have given us somewhere to live, it doesn't feel like home, Sam."

Sam hesitates, something so characteristic of his brother, Isaac almost laughs at the irony of it all so soon after their initial conversation starter.

"I miss them, too," the stoic mercenary admits at last, meeting Isaac's eyes across the room, "the last time we saw them, they were--"

"--just kids. Mel'll practically be an adult. And Miki? She's nearly out of high school." There's a shadow of a smile that Sam hasn't seen in years, "It'd be nice to see them again."

"Then we're going home."

Isaac sits up abruptly, a reaction, he believes Sam wasn't anticipating given the way his frame stiffens, "Just like that?"

"It's what you want, isn't it?"

Isaac starts to answer, but now, it's his turn to hesitate. For so long, they've done what Isaac wanted, and he doesn't like where it's gotten them. So, he swings his feet onto the floor and levels a solemn gaze on the larger mercenary, "Is it what you want, Sam?"

There's a heavy silence in the room, one that Isaac dearly wishes Sam would break. He's tired of making the decisions, it's why they ended up in this mess the first time around. He won't make the same mistake twice. This time--this time Sam's taking the wheel.

"Yes."

"Then let's go home."

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

Every nerve screams, every tendons pleads. It's a rush of sensations, it's nothing but shredding cartilage and shattering bones.

It's all he can remember, all he can feel, and yet, he's still free falling.

"Sam!"

He grapples for something, anything to slow his descent, but it's too late. The rocks are close and there's no saving him now.

He's gone.

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

Isaac awakes in a panic to Sam shaking his sweat-coated frame with something closely resembling terror in his eyes.

"Isaac!"

It takes a moment, but when he regains his bearings, slowly realizing how tightly he's gripped Sam's forearms, he recoils.

"What happened?" He croaks, eyes drifting to his trembling hands, throat dry from the screams.

"You had a nightmare." Sam loosens his vice grip on Isaac's shoulders, steadying his shaking form.

"God, it was so real." He murmurs, flexing his hands to try and regain some semblance of control.

"You're all right," Sam tries to assure him, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, struggling to calm his own racing pulse.

Both sets of eyes snap to the door when Carolina and Washington stumble in, mirroring looks of concern and terror.

"Are you guys okay?" Carolina steps into the room, emerald darting in search of potential threats.

"We're fine, Isaac--"

"--had a nightmare. Sorry I woke you, guys." Isaac mumbles out an apology, eyes dropping back to the blankets tangled around his legs.

The siblings exchange a look, before Wash takes a cautious step closer, "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Felix--"

"--Wash." Isaac cuts him short, lifting pained brown from the blankets to settle on the the younger Freelancer, "I'm okay. You guys can go back to bed. Sorry I woke you."

His voice is gentle, drained of the fire they've grown so accustomed to hearing. He shifts, straightening his blankets before sliding back down under the covers, rolling on his side away from his partner and the Freelancers.

Sam gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze and stands, ushering the others out, closing the door behind him.

They're talking. It's hushed and garbled through the door, but it's just clear enough for the lean mercenary to make out the end of their conversation.

"You sure he's gonna be okay?"

Wash. Always so considerate, always so worried about everyone else more so than himself.

"It won't be easy, but he'll get through this."

"We'll help where we can." Carolina's voice drifts beneath the door, and for a moment, she almost sounds like Vanessa. He rolls onto his back, zeroing in on her voice, eyes glued on the ceiling.

For a moment, he's back on Chorus, standing beside her and going over reports. For a moment, he isn't lying, for a moment, he isn't planning to betray her, for a fleeting moment, all is right.

"Dammit," Isaac mumbles, struggling, with everything he has, to brush the memory aside. He rubs at his eyes, tears pricking, soul screaming, guilt gnawing.

He slams the side of his fist against the metal wall beside him, as if pounding the wall will silence the memories. It almost works, but the collision startles the group outside the door.

Sam steps inside, Freelancers stealing a glimpse over his shoulder at the tense mess on the cot.

"Isaac?" Sam approaches, kneeling beside his brother, "Isaac, what's wrong?"

It's almost a whisper and Isaac can't find the strength or the words to answer him. Carolina gently nudges Sam back, allowing her to take a seat at Isaac's side.

"It's all right." She lays a hand on his forearm, her voice low and calming.

"It's not." He pushes her hand aside, pushing himself to sit up, roughly wiping away the tear stains on his cheeks.

"What's going on, man?" Washington ventures closer, kneeling beside Sam, quietly searching Isaac's defeated eyes for a single spark of life.

"Don't worry about it."

He jolts slightly when Carolina's hand rests on his shoulder, dragging his eyes up to meet emerald. There's a gentle smile etched into her features, something he never imagined he'd receive from the usually intimidating Freelancer.

"It's okay to be vulnerable, Felix. Nightmares are nothing to be ashamed of, it's just an unfortunate part of being soldiers."

"It's not the nightmares, those I can handle."

Sam lets out a disbelieving snort, earning him a jab from Wash's elbow. The mercenary levels an annoyed look on the youngest Church, one that Washington promptly ignores in favor of asking the inevitable question. 

"Then what is it?"

 "It's stupid." he grumbles in response, winding his fingers into the blanket and clenching his fist.

"Gates," a chiding tone from Sam, "we talked about this."

"I know, I know. I need to open to the others more."

"This would be a good start."

Isaac's shoulders sag, "Fine." He lifts his gaze, hazel settling on Carolina's curious expression.

"Before you guys showed up on Chorus, Sam and I had already been there for a couple years. In that time, we got to know some of those people pretty well--at least I did." He swallows the lump in his throat, every ounce of his being screaming for him to stop there, but he pushes through. He needs to get past this, he needs some semblance of closure.

So, he squares his shoulders, gathering what remains of his dignity and looks to Carolina, "You sound a lot like Kimball. Same attitude, same tone, and, I guess--I guess I got some flashbacks. Not everything I said to Kimball was a lie, and it's the things I didn't say that bite me in the ass now."

"Oh my God." Wash stares, "you were in love with her."

"I wasn't in love with her! It was a mutual respect." Isaac protests, turning a scowl towards the blonde Freelancer.

"No, I think Wash is right in this case." There's a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of Carolina's lips.

"I'm not with in love with her!" The lean mercenary bites back bitterly.

"They're right, Felix." Sam contributes coolly, folding his arms across his chest.

"Oh, don't you start too!"

"Have you talked to her?" Carolina interjects.

"No. I doubt she even knows I'm alive."

"Oh, she knows." Wash rubs the back of his neck, avoiding Isaac's gaze.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Caboose might've let it slip a couple weeks ago."

"I'm actually quite surprised that he made it this long." Carolina snorts, shaking her head.

"Then why the hell am I still alive? I would've thought their entire military would be knocking at our door."

"Kimball is still trying to sort out the whole freedom thing with the UNSC. They don't really want to let go of Chorus now that they know they had it at one point." Wash supplies, "so, she quite literally has been too busy to kill you."

"Thanks, Wash. That's very reassuring," Isaac retorts with a deadpan expression.

"I think what Wash is trying to say is that she, like you, has been too busy to cope with the full spectrum of emotion your survival no doubt brought back. You should talk to her."

"I'd be dead before I made the lobby."

"Not if we came with you." Wash jumps in, "Locus already got a full presidential pardon from Kimball for saving my life."

"It's not gonna be that simple, Wash."

"Isaac," Sam captures his attention, "it's something that needs to happen. We'll be there beside you, no matter what."

The lean mercenary glances between the Freelancers and his partner, shoulders sagging, "Alright. I guess we're making a stop at Chorus."

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

"I don't like this idea." Isaac stares down the door and his feet are rooted in place.

"We made it all the way here, you can do this." Carolina lays a hand on his shoulder.

"Does she know I'm coming?"

"No. We thought it best to...surprise her?" Washington offers with a shrug.

"Right, because surprising the leader of a planet who no doubt has a gun nearby is a great plan."

"She's not going to kill you." Sam retorts evenly.

"Easy for you to say, you have the presidential pardon."

Carolina rolls her eyes and opens the door, stepping inside with Sam and Wash close behind.

"Kimball?"

"Agent Carolina, this is a surprise." The president of Chorus stands, offering a warm smile to the three visitors.

"Oh, the surprises don't stop here," Wash scratches the back of his head.

"What does that--?"

She never gets to finish. Sam steps aside and Isaac slowly shuffles inside the room, hands shoved in his pockets, frame tense and eyes bleeding warmth.

"Felix--you--I thought--"

"Hey, Vanessa." He tries a slight smile, eyes drifting across her face.

"You're alive. When Caboose said--I didn't think he was serious."

"Surprise."

The disbelief ebbs away, and Isaac wants nothing more than to shy away from the glare that grips her features.

"Why are you here?"

Isaac remains silent, looking anywhere other than the woman behind the desk. It isn't until Carolina elbows him and nudges him forward that he can find his courage.

"I came to see you."

"Why?" It's sharp, detached.

"Because," a quiet fuck slips out under his breath and he unburies his hands, striding closer with more confidence than he has, "because I've spent too long running from my past. What I did here, what I did to you, was wrong. No amount of apologizing will change that fact. But what I do hope to change is where I go from here."

Kimball eases herself to her feet, meeting the lean mercenary's gaze evenly, "Why?"

"Because you're important to me."

Kimball's expression softens, lips parted in something resembling shock.

"Not a day goes by that I don't think about you and wish that I could go back and change all of it." He leans on the desk, "I wanted to tell you, god, so many times what you meant to me. Every lie, every choice I made was hell because I didn't want to betray you."

"Then why did you?" her voice softens, violet darting across hazel, searching for an answer just out of reach.

"Because fighting in your war was a job. I wasn't supposed to get attached, I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you, but I did. And when it came down to you or the job, I chose the latter because I wasn't ready to sort through all the emotions. By the time I realized it, it was too late."

His voice falters for a moment, "I realize that what I've done is unforgivable, but I'm asking nonetheless because I need to know." His hand slides to rest on top of hers, hazel locking on violet with a desperation Kimball's never seen before.

"I'm sorry, Vanessa. Will you forgive me?"

She hesitates, indecision gripping her frame and Isaac's almost certain she's going to tell him to go to hell. He's surprised when she leans forward, lips brushing against his in a moment he'll cling to for the rest of his life.

It's brief, a whisper of skin and Isaac's not even sure it happened, but when she pulls back, hand sliding out from underneath his and she stands with her hands clasped behind her back, he tenses.

"You're forgiven, Felix. I don't know what you've gone through, what hell you've walked to come to terms with what you are, but it's enough. I can't promise you a home here on Chorus, it's not even safe for Locus. There's too much residual hatred for you two, but I can promise you that your reconciliation with your humanity will be noted and that might, one day, grant you a place here."

She's distant, but he can read the signs. It's a goodbye, a promise and a hope all at once.

"Thank you."

She offers a solemn nod, "Goodbye, Felix."

The corner of his mouth tugs upward, "See you around, Kimball."

He doesn't speak until they're nearly to the landing pad, lost in his own thoughts.

"So, you showed some emotion. Didn't know you could do that," Wash teases, nudging his shoulder with his elbow.

Isaac gives him a light shove, "Ha ha, very funny."

"Cut the man some slack, Wash, he just got rejected." Carolina interjects with a smile.

"I did not! It was more like closure. I'm fine."

"Right, which is why your face is redder than Sarge's armor."

Isaac glowers and drops in behind them, falling in step with Sam. He glances at his partner, "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Now who needs to open up more?"

Sam snorts, "Just thinking about what comes next."

"We go home."

"That simple, huh?"

"Its the logical next step."

"I hope you two aren't planning on leaving without saying goodbye." Carolina glances over her shoulder.

"We wouldn't dream of it."

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

"Goodbye, Mr. Felix! Goodbye, Mr. Locus! We will miss you!" Caboose shouts, waving wildly as they board their ship.

Isaac can't help the smile that spreads across his lips and he turns to give Caboose a wave goodbye.

He turns away when the landing ramp closes and climbs into the cockpit beside Sam, "You ready?"

"Always."

Their ship lifts off, roaring into space towards home.

"Should we tell Wu we're coming?" Isaac smirks, already knowing the answer.

"Let's surprise him."

It's not long until they touch down on the landing pad. Every nerve stands on end as Isaac slips his pack over his head and he and Sam descend into the bustling crowd of the spaceport. It's not long until they reach the front porch and Isaac rings the doorbell.

They wait and there's scampering beyond the door before the bolt is released and the door swings open.

"Sam? Isaac?" Mason sets his pistol aside and pulls the door open further. A smile cracks across his lips and he tugs them both into an embrace.

"Hey, Wu. Miss us?" Isaac laughs, returning the embrace.

Sam looks uncomfortable, after all these years, he still isn't capable of handling hugs. So, he awkwardly pats Mason's shoulder and tries to smile.

Mason steps back, "Come inside. Megan! Girls!"

Megan Wu emerges from the living room, freezing in the doorway when her eyes land on the two mercenaries.

"Hey, Meg."

Mason's daughters come tearing down the staircase, Melody skidding just short of her mother and Mikayla nearly collides with her older sister.

"Girls, you remember your Uncles Isaac and Sam?"

They remain where they are and for a moment, Isaac's smile falters. They've no doubt heard about everything that's happened, their fall from grace and the fight with Mason. He almost turns to Mason and offers to leave until Melody steps past her mother, eyes darting between the two men before she gives Sam a hug.

He freezes and his eyes dart to Mason who smirks at the awkward mercenary's position. Slowly, he accepts her embrace while Mikayla darts over to Isaac and practically tackles him to the ground.

Isaac doesn't hesitate, winding his arms around his surrogate niece, "You guys got so big."

"That tends to happen when you're gone for a couple years, Uncle Isaac." Melody returns, stepping back and allowing Mikayla to give Sam a hug.

"You got your dad's wit, I'm so proud." Isaac snorts, giving her a quick embrace.

"They got their mother's smarts, too." Mason steps closer to Megan, who hasn't been able to find the words to speak.

The girls smile almost proudly and squeeze the mercenaries a little tighter.

Sam flinches and looks to Isaac for help. He doesn't know how to handle children and though he tries, he doesn't know how to handle affection either. So, when Mikayla's vice grip loosens, Sam steps back and tries to gather himself.

Melody steps off to the side and all eyes fall to Megan. She hasn't spoken and her grip on Mason's hand has tightened, almost as if she can protect him with the sheer force of her hand around his.

Isaac's the first to speak, "Meg, we owe you, all of you, an apology. The decisions Sam and I made, the fight with Mason, it was wrong--we were wrong. We're sorry."

She nods slowly, releasing her grasp on her husband's hand and venturing closer. Her daughters step back and her gaze flickers between Sam and Isaac.

They wait in silence until a warm smile spreads across her lips, tugging them into a warm embrace.

"Welcome home, boys."

"It's good to be home."

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

Tagging: 

RVB Forevers: @mamma-dragon ​ @loveliestoflunchboxes ​ @heaven-hell-imagines ​

RVB Mercs: @antsyserpentine ​

[buckyscrystalqueen]

A Recipe for Happiness: Part 4

Pairings: Mark Sheppard x witch!Reader (Harry Potter Crossover)

Warnings: Fluff. Swearing, unexpected pregnancy, angst.

Word Count: 5,119

Aesthetic by the lovely, amazing, beautiful @sorenmarie87

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

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

You didn’t know what to expect for your first official ‘date night’ with Mark, but it didn’t involve a blind fold. You held his hand tight as he lead you down the street with his arm around your waist, making sure you didn’t fall over in your new heels, and making sure you and Jupiter didn’t get hurt in any way. 

“Mark…” You said hesitantly, not liking the loss of one of your senses where anything could happen.

“Almost there, sweetheart.” He promised as he turned you around the corner and gently pulled you to a stop. “Alright, I need you to hold on to me so you don’t tip over.” You nodded blindly as he moved your hands to his shoulder and arm.

“I don’t like this.” You said as you gripped the fabric of his suit jacket tightly.

“Almost done, love. I swear it.” He reassured you as he pulled open the door to where he was taking you before moving you back to his side. “Small step.” He said as he used his body to almost hold your entire weight as you tried to find the raised floor. His hold on you tightened when only half your foot made it, and he chuckled as you found your footing. “Probably didn’t think this one through.”

“You think?” You asked with a laugh as he pulled you to a stop. You felt him reach up to the tie he had chosen for a blind fold and pull the knot free.

“So this is it.” He breathed as he removed the blindfold. You blinked a few times to adjust to the dull light and gasped.

“Mark.” You breathed as you looked at the dozens of candles that decorated the front of the restaurant he worked at.

“Do you see why I was a little late tonight?” He inquired as he handed you a Kleenex before the tears even started to fall. You tried to look over at him sarcastically but with tears in your eyes, you couldn’t. “Come on, sit down.”

“How did you pull this off?” You asked as you sat down in the chair he had pulled out for you.

“Called in a few favors.” He admitted as he took a seat next to you. “Had to agree to working a double on New Years day so Damian would agree to close the restaurant early for me tonight.”

“He’s the owner of this place, right?” You clarified as a waiter came over with a bottle of chilled sparkling grape juice since you couldn’t drink.

“He is.” He said as he glanced at the waiter with a nod of appreciation.

“So how many people did you have to pay off to be here for this?” You said with a smile as you took a sip of your drink. You hummed at the interesting taste and looked at the contents of the glass since it wasn’t something you had had before. “That’s interesting.”

“You’ll have a lot of things you haven’t tried before.” He said softly as the first dish was brought out. He waited for the waiter to set down a plate of crostini’s for you to split. “I kept it simple and stuck with Italian since you love my Italian and all.”

“Mark Sheppard, you know the way to this girl’s heart.” He smiled as he picked up one of the small, round pieces of garlic bread with fresh mozzarella, a slice of tomato, and a pinch of basil. 

“It’s quite simple, love.” He chuckled as he fed you the first piece, smiling at the groan of approval you gave him. 

“God, I hate you sometimes.” You sighed as you leaned back in your chair, savoring the flavors of the appetizer as the chef checked to make sure his creation was don properly by his chefs.

“No, you don’t.” He chuckled as he chewed. “You love that I cook for you and introduce you to a whole world of new things to try.”

“This is true.” You agreed as you grabbed another piece and took a bite, loving it even more than the first one. “What made you want to be a chef in the first place?”

“Well.” He said as he chewed quickly and swallowed his bite. “If you haven’t noticed yet, I love food. When I was a boy, my late mother and I used to make dinner together every night after school. She’d dance around the kitchen singing songs as she created. We’d pick a cook book the first of every month and pick the hardest recipes from it to try to conquer them. Sometimes it was a success while others… well, let’s just say we always had left over food frozen just in case. Cooking is just… well it’s my form of magic. Creating and blending flavors to find the perfect balance gives me such a rush. And I love bringing joy to other people with my cooking. It kept my mother close to my heart after she passed.” He shook his head and shrugged as he set the empty plate on the far side of the table. “I just love it.”

“Baby…” You breathed as you put your hand over your heart. His scruff covered cheeks flushed as he looked away with a smile.

“Hush, love.” He chuckled as the waiter brought over the next dish, Mark’s signature lasagna.

“Bloody hell.” You breathed as you leaned forward to smell the dish that he put in the oven just before he left the restaurant. Jupiter kicked your stomach hard as you sat back with a giant smile. You looked over at him as he smiled at you from behind his glass of sparkling juice. “I’d tell you to be the father of my children for this, but you’ve already claimed that title.” Mark nearly choked on his juice with his laugh as you innocently picked up your fork and dove into your meal.

“Fuck I love you.” He said as he reached out to squeeze your free hand, and you were grateful you had swallowed your first bite so you wouldn’t choke as well. Your head whipped over at him as he nodded his head. “I’ve fallen in love with you, (Y/N).”

“Me too.” You breathed with a shake of your head. “I love you, too. But I can’t help but wonder if that’s because of Jupiter…”

“It’s not.” He said as he let go of your hand to get his wallet from his jacket pocket. “I wouldn’t have held onto this if I didn’t have genuine feelings for you.” Tears welled in your eyes as he unfolded and handed you the short note you had left him the first day you had met him.

Mark,

Thank you, so much, for the amazing day we’ve shared. I’ve not laughed that hard in such a long time. I wish that we could have more time, but life never works out in my favour. If you should ever run into me again, please know that I’d love to spend the day together again. You’re exactly the man I’d want to get to know more. 

I wish life could be more fair.

(Y/N).

Words escaped you completely as you pushed back from the table and moved over to sit on his lap. Your tears fell freely as he wrapped his arms around your waist and held his heart in his hands.

“I love you.” You whispered into his shoulder, forgetting about the dinner he had carefully planned out to surprise you. He nodded his head and kissed your forehead as he brushed his hands across your back.

“I love you, too.”

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

“I think we should take out this wall.” You said, absentmindedly as you looked at the wall dividing your and Mark’s living rooms while you took a break from writing Hogwarts acceptance letters and supplies requirement lists. “We essentially live together anyways.”

“Love, we can’t just tear down a wall.” Mark said as he tried making a Thai khanom chan recipe for the hundredth time, unsuccessfully because he wanted it to be ‘just right’ before he added it to February’s menu for his restaurant. “We’d have to contact your landlord and mine…” You looked over at him, almost sarcastically, before picking up your wand and waving it at the wall. He looked up when the room was flooded with light from your apartment and sighed. “Love, put it back.”

“I think it looks better this way.” You said with a shrug as you leaned back in the couch and started rearranging furniture to fit both rooms better. “More home like. Oo! We could even combine the two bathrooms and make one nice big one…”

“And what will you do when one of our landlords comes to call?” You shrugged as you pulled Josey’s perch toward you, and placed it between the two front doors, causing her to screech at you in anger since she had been asleep.

“That’s what magic is for.” You reminded him as you turned his couch a bit so that it flowed with the rest of the room while still being able to see Mark’s TV and his kitchen. “And now, you have the extra oven you always complain about not having.” He huffed and shook his head as he carefully added the last layer to his dessert to steam. 

“You’re supposed to be working, love.” He reminded you to keep your pregnancy brain on track.

“What about a big bathtub?” You asked as you twisted your wand toward your quill to cheat a bit. “One of those bubble ones you told me about.”

“A jacuzzi bathtub?” He asked as he set the timer for the next layer with a sigh. “I think I could get on board with that.” You nodded as you laid down on the couch and rubbed your hand over your bump.

“We could turn my master room into a play room, too. Keep all those toys in one confined area.” You looked up at Mark as he came over and leaned over the back of the couch.

“You’re going to ruin me with all this magic.” He teased as he bent down to give you a chaste kiss. “But you’re supposed to be writing not cheating.” You groaned as he helped you and your  bump sit up.

“You are the biggest pain in the ass.” You complained as you grabbed your quill and picked up writing where it left off. 

“You love me.” He called out as he got a plate ready.

“Not at this precise moment I don’t.” You called out in a sing song voice as you finished the letter you were writing and moved on to the supplies list. 

——

You had completely forgotten that it was Valentines day, so when Mark came home from work after his breakfast, lunch, and early dinner shift to find you lounging in the jacuzzi bathtub, reading the Peter Pan book he wanted you to read instead of cooking dinner like you had told him you were going to, he just laughed.

“What’s going on, my love?” He asked as he came into your expanded bathroom, and sat down on the edge of the tub. You showed him the book as he reached over and started rubbing your feet.

“I’m growing a human.” You groaned happily as you set the book aside, and leaned your head back on the side of the tub. “I’m just sore all over.”

“Well that is absolutely no fun.” He said as he toed off his shoes, and used one hand to pull off his socks. “So I won’t take offense to the fact that I need to heat up leftovers for Valentines day dinner.” He smiled when your face dropped.

“No! That’s not today!” You whined as you covered your face in embarrassment.

“It’s alright, love.” He said with a nod as he pulled off his shirt and tossed it across the bathroom. “I get to spend the night with you. I call that a win in my book.”

“Baby, I’m sorry.” You said as you started to cry. Mark chuckled as he stood up and took off the rest of his clothes to join you in the bath.

“Sit up, darling.” He said as he reached down to pull you forward. You sniffled, and nodded as he carefully got into the tub behind you and pulled you back between his legs. With a deep, content sigh, he wrapped you in his arms and rested both hand on his daughter. “There we go.” He sighed as you found a comfortable place for your head on his tattooed, chest hair covered chest.

“I’m a bad girlfriend.” You said as you laced your fingers with his on either side of your stomach.

“Well if you’re a bad girlfriend, then I’m a bad boyfriend.” He countered as he gently rubbed his fingers across your skin, starting from your belly button and slowly spreading out so he could work every inch of muscle you had.

“No your not.” You said with a small shake of your head. You let go of his hands and moved them to his calves as he rubbed his thumbs into your sides. You couldn’t stop the little moans that caught in your throat as you turned a bit so he could get to your back. He groaned as he shifted behind you and his cock twitched against your back when you brushed against it. Every noise you made drove him crazy as he watched your face twist into looks of sheer pleasure. 

“Fuck, the things you do to me, woman.” He groaned as he dug his fingers into your back some more. You nodded your head as you squeezed his calves and dragged your nails across his skin.

“Baby…” You whined as your coil started to twist, causing him to moan, and nod.

“I’ve got you, love.” He said as he slid his right hand across your hip as his left hand came up to cup your breast. You whined and arched into his hands as he circled his fingers around your clit. Your whole body throbbed as you arched your back and wrapped your hand around his cock. “Don’t, love. Don’t, I won’t…” He tried as he shook his head. 

“Cum with me.” You breathed as you tilted your head up enough to look at him. “Please, cum…” He nodded his head and rubbed your clit faster as his breaths came out in pants.

“That’s it.” He gasped as your jaw dropped in a silent scream, and your orgasm rolled through your body. “Good girl.” His head dropped to yours with a slight thud, and his whole body tensed behind you as he came with a deep growl that reverberated in his chest. You stroked him through his high as he held you to his chest, slowly bringing you back down to earth himself. After a few moments, he carefully moved your hand off of him so he could lean around you and pull the stopper.

“Let’s move this Valentines day party to the bedroom, love.” You nodded your head in agreement as he moved your forward so he could get out first to grab towels.

“I at least got you a present so I get points for that.” You said as you took his offered hands, and let him pull you carefully to your feet. 

“Well that’s a point for each of us.” He said with a chuckle as he helped you out of the tub. “But we’ll worry about both of those points after I take the woman I love to bed.”

——

“What do you think she’s gunna be like?” Mark asked as he lay sideways on the bed, with his head propped up on his hand, and his arm over your bent legs. You looked down your body at him as he drew meaningless patterns on your belly and smiled.

“Besides perfect?” You asked as you laid your head down on the pillow and bent just enough where you could see him. “I think… that she’s gunna look like you. Your hair, your eyes…” You smirked as you reached out and thumbed his bottom lipped, teasingly. “My lips.” He pouted his bottom lip and playfully blew a raspberry on your thigh, making sure to hold your thighs tight to the side of his chest so you wouldn’t wiggle away. 

“Your butt.” He said as he moved his hand up to squeeze your naked ass. “God, please let her have your gorgeous butt.”

“Let’s rethink that.” You said as you brushed your hand up his calf. “If she has my ass, then she’ll be catching the boy’s eyes. Which means more work for daddy.”

“Yea…” He said as he walked his fingers across your stomach. “Let her have my butt.” His fingers stopped when your stomach growled and you pouted.

“I’m hungry.”

“I made you cupcakes for dessert.” He said as he went to sit up, but you reached out to grab his hand.

“Witch.” You said as you rolled your head to look for your wand. You reached out, and grabbed it with a smile. “Locomotor cupcakes.”

“Damn, I love you right now.” He laughed as he sat up, and turned toward the door. He moaned as a trail of cupcakes made their way through the open door toward you.

“Aww, they’re pretty.” You said as you grabbed a chocolate cupcake with pink frosting, and a chocolate covered strawberry and sprinkles on top from the air, and guided the rest to the bedside table beside you.

“Let me see.” He said as he took the cupcake from your hand. “These have to be eaten a certain way.”

“Oh, well far be it from me to say no to that.” You said as you sat up beside him. He pulled the strawberry from the top and twisted it in the frosting with a smile.

“So we have fresh strawberries from the vine smothered in dark Godiva chocolate because you said it was your favorite.” You smiled and nodded as he held the strawberry up to your lips so you could take a bite. You moaned at the burst of flavors in your mouth and he leaned forward to kiss a bit of frosting off the corner of your lip. He hummed and gave you a chaste kiss before continuing his explanation of his dessert. 

“The icing is a hand whipped strawberry ganache on top of chocolate cupcake with a stracciatella truffle center.” You smiled and looked over at him as he held the cupcake up for you.

“Say that again.” You cooed as you dipped your finger in the icing and licked it off. He smirked as he watched your finger.

“Stracciatella.” He repeated with the slightest roll of his tongue, making him a thousand times more attractive than he already was.

“Damn, you’re so fucking sexy.” You cooed as you bit into the cupcake, moaning even more at the taste.

“Alright, I need you to stop making those noises.” He said before popping the rest of the cupcake into his mouth. “You’re gunna kill me.”

“I can’t help it.” You said as you grabbed another cupcake and ate half of it and the strawberry in one bite. “Your child is hungry and you make good food.” 

“Well…” He tried as he looked down at your bump as the same moment Jupiter moved enough that you could actually see her. You hissed a bit when she kicked your spine and Mark instantly scooted down the bed. “Hey in there.” He cooed as he rested his hand on your stomach, getting a bit of icing on your skin. He bent down to lick it off quickly, and got punched in the face by his daughter.

“Oi!” He called out as he gently poked back at her. “That’s not very nice, young lady.”

“Keep doing it, little girl.” You giggled as you smeared a bit of icing across your stomach.

“Is that what you want to do, my little love? Punch daddy for taking care of mommy sexually, and making her skip dinner?” He asked before licking the frosting away, making the pressure with his tongue so that Jupiter would punch him. When she didn’t, he sat back, and stole some of the frosting from your cupcake before you could eat the rest of it.

“What do you think she’s gunna look like?” You asked as he smeared the pink ganache across your bump to lick it off again, finally getting the punch back he was looking for.

“She’s gunna look like you.” He said as he looked up at you with a smile. He took some icing from the next cupcake he grabbed and rested his arm across your bump. “She’ll have your gorgeous (Y/E/C) eyes… and your cute nose…” You smiled as he started to draw the outline of her face in icing.

“She’s gunna be pink, too?” You asked as you offered him the strawberry off your cupcake. He nodded as he took a bite of the strawberry, stole more icing, and went back to drawing. 

“Pink, and perfect.” He agreed with a smile as you folded his pillow in half and put it on your thigh so he could rest his head. He kept drawing, receiving kicks after punches from his daughter, with a giant smile on his face. “So sweet, and innocent. Loving, and amazing. Just like her mother. And she’ll be our little girl.” You sighed and tilted your head to watch the love of your life talk to his daughter as if she was the only person in the world.

“Cupcake, my love.” He said as he looked up at you for more icing. You smirked, and grabbed him a new cupcake so he could continue working. 

“I can’t wait to see you with her.” You whispered as you set the cupcake between your breasts so he could reach it if he needed more icing. He nodded his head at you and continued to talk to Jupiter about his work day, just to talk to her.

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

“So I think I have realized something.” You said to Mark as you walked up to where he was waiting for you outside a dingy old pub near the entrance of the Ministry of Magic. He looked up at you from the ‘Enchantment in Baking’ book he was reading, that you had bewitched to look like a regular cookbook for him, with his eyebrow raised as you showed him the four thick rolls of parchment you needed to fill out to register him and Jupiter with the Administrative Registration Department once she was born (in a matter of weeks). “You and your daughter are a lot of freaking work.”

“You know you’ll have it all filled out by tonight anyways. I think I can make this.” You rolled your eyes, and glanced at the recipe for cauldron cakes as he took the parchments for you. “I may need your help with one or two things, obviously.”

“Oh, I’ll absolutely help with this.” You said as you took the cookbook from him with a smile. “It’s chocolate. I can’t say no to chocolate. That would be poor parenting on my part.”

“Child abuse.” He agreed as you turned the corner away from the Ministry to head back to the main roads. “Well we can’t have that, can we?” You shook your head and closed the book to put in your bag but when you rounded the corner, you accidentally bumped in to a wizard that you recognized from your year at Hogwarts as he headed toward the ministry.

“Watch it.” The man growled as he looked between you, Mark, and your very large bump. “Muggle lover.”

“Excuse me?” Mark snapped as you put your hand on his arm. “What did you call her?” You mumbled ‘don’t’ under your breath with a shake of your head as you tried to push the father of your child and the man you were dating away from the confrontation.

“She heard me.” The wizard sneered as you got Mark turned around in the right direction. “Disgusting.”

“Just leave it.” You said as you laced your arm with his and kept walking. “Wizards like that are rare and far between but it happens.” You barely glanced over your shoulder and instantly reacted when you saw a glimpse of the man’s wand. You shoved Mark, who was in the middle of talking about how ridiculous the wizard was, behind you and blocked the spell the man threw at the last possible second. Your eyes went wide as you blocked a second and a third, before you simply reacted.

“How dare you!” You screeched as you sent spell after spell at him, praying that one of them would make it past his defensive spells. “Attack a pregnant woman in public. You’ve forgotten who- I- am! Finestra!” The window of the thankfully vacant building beside your opponent shattered, and distracted him just long enough for you to knock him out with your next spell. You took a step back and panted to catch your breath as a woman came running toward you.

“You must be out of your mind!” She shrieked as she looked between the three of you. “Not only are you casting spells directly in front of the Ministry…”

“He attacked me.” You said as you finally looked away from the stunned man at the Minister of Magic herself, Hermione Granger. “Shit… Minister…”

“In front of a muggle, no less.” She said as she gestured to Mark.

“He’s exempt!” You said as you instantly back stepped toward him so she couldn’t preform a confundus charm without hitting you, too. “He’s exempt. He’s the father of my daughter. Minister, please. I just picked up the paperwork today and that man tried to attack us…”

“Come with me.” She said as she waved her hand to repair the window you had broken. “Both of you.” You nodded as you reached back, and grabbed Mark’s hand like your life depended on it. You bowed your head in shame as she charmed a homeless muggle that had witnessed the entire incident so he’d forget and lead you, Mark, and the temporarily unconscious wizard back toward the ministry.

“It’ll be OK.” You told Mark as he gripped your hand tight. “You’re exempt from the security statute. It’s just a formality.”

“They won’t make me forget you and Jupiter, will they?” He asked. You shook your head as Hermione lead you to the phone booth entrance for the ministry.

“This is what I get for thinking it was a good idea to walk to work this morning.” She mumbled to herself as she waited for you and Mark to enter first. “Wait for me in the Atrium.”

“Yes Minister.” You agreed as you pushed the door closed behind you. You sighed to yourself and ran your fingers through your hair before resting your hand on your bump to try to get Jupiter to calm down.

“I’m guessing I’m not going to work today.” Mark said before he jumped a bit when the phone booth started to move. You shook your head as you turned toward him.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart.” He nodded and quickly bent down to kiss you.

“Don’t let me forget either of you.” He pleaded as he searched your eyes. “No matter what.”

“I won’t.” You promised as the lift came to a stop. You took the parchments you had picked up earlier and tucked them under your right arm so you could lace your left with his to keep him as close to you as possible. “I promise.” You looked out into the atrium in fear at Harry Potter, the Head Auror, and three other aurors you didn’t know by name. You took a deep breath and nodded at them as you stepped out of the lift and willingly but hesitantly passed Harry your wand.

“Come with me, Professor.” He said solemnly as he turned to follow Hermione and the wizard (in a full body bind) she had an auror escorting through the air toward the elevators that lead to the investigation department. You could feel Mark shaking slightly as you stepped into the elevator while Hermione told the four aurors what she had seen. You had warned him about this exact moment; what could happen if you were caught using magic in front of him or any other muggle or if the ministry found out that he knew about the wizarding world. You had to admit, you weren’t scared about what would happen to you. Temporary imprisonment wasn’t anyones cup of tea, but at least you’d remember. 

You’d remember the fun you had had with Mark on a rainy day in March where the two of you laid in bed, watching the rain beat on the window pain while you made loud, angry animals dance in the fires in the Hogwarts common rooms to scare the students just because you could. You would remember laughing to the point that you nearly wet the bed when Aunt Min sent you a Howler, screaming at you to knock it off. You would remember the smile he had on his face as he laid his head on your stomach every night before bed, talking, and singing to the life the two of you created before he tucked all three of you into bed. Mark would never remember.

“Professor?” Harry said as the elevator came to a stop. “This way.” You looked up at the auror and couldn’t bring yourself to move as you readjusted your grip on Mark’s hand and hid your bump behind your hand. Tears welled in your eyes, and you shook your head the slightest bit.

“Please.” You whispered as you looked at him. “Please…” Harry smiled at you weakly and nodded his head as two of the other aurors escorted the wizard that attacked you out and followed Hermione.

“Professor, it’s simply a formality. We have some questions, an exorbitant amount of paperwork that needs to be signed off on, and a simple spell to check paternity. Believe me, I’ve known your aunt for decades. I know she raised you, and I know that you wouldn’t break the rules without merit. So please, come with me. We’ll sort this all out and you’ll be on your way.” You nodded your head but couldn’t bring yourself to move out of fear.

“I don’t…” You started before clearing your throat. “I don’t feel so good.” Mark’s head whipped over at you, and he scrambled to hold you up as your water broke, and you passed out simultaneously in the ministry’s elevator.

Part 5

[rebakadraws]

The Fox and the Hounds (pt 1?!)

My @inusecretsanta for @avannak !! Honestly I had never known about you before, so, nice to meet you fellow Inuyasha (and furthermore, Koga) fan!

The first prompt you had listed was ya bois Inuyasha, Koga, and Shippo interacting together, and that had really excited me, because I’ve actually thought about and really like the idea of these three’s dynamic! To anyone who knows me it might come as a surprise that I didn’t just draw something for your gift, but, well, your prompt that caught my eye inspired an idea for an entire story plot, so, I couldn’t help trying my hand at a fic this time! Unfortunately for me though, I was a bit.. too inspired, so this turned out rather long and like the title says, this is only part 1! Because I’m posting this first half to be in time for the SS, without a deadline anymore I can’t guarantee when the second part will be finished... But I’ve still got the ideas for the scenes of the second half so I am determined to finish it for you! ...Someday XD. Anyway, yeah! I hope you had a very merry Christmas and I hope your 2018 has been awesome so far! Enjoy!~

Rated: K+ for a couple mild-swears in there (GASP I’m breaking out of my shell I guess cOUGH thanks Kat lol) Word Count: 4965 |D Disclaimer: This story is told through the eyes of Shippo, and so the negative descriptions towards Inuyasha and Koga are based on his opinion, not my own. I love... basically all the characters in this great anime! The only character I would ever talk about negatively is Naraku pfff.

It had decidedly been Shippo’s most favorite toy, a truly unique gift from Kagome’s own time, even. The priceless pull-string-operated propeller toy from the future now found its final resting place on the grass, wronged and rendered completely useless, its string having been ripped from the toy’s base. The injustice had occured in a mere matter of seconds, but Shippo had seen the crime committed with his own two eyes. He turned said eyes up accusingly at the culprit standing before him.

Inuyasha blinked, and brought his fist of detached string up to his vision, his mind finally catching up with what had just transpired. “Ah jeez, I pulled too hard on it, huh? Sorry, runt.”

Forcing back tears for the broken trinket, Shippo pouted indignantly at the hanyou, finding that he did not fully believe his clearly facaded innocence. “Inuyasha! Don’t you act surprised! You did this on purpose!!”

Now Inuyasha raised an eyebrow, before squatting down to the young fox-youkai’s level. “An’ why in the hell would I have done this on purpose?” he responded, his face narrowing into an unconvinced look.

“Because,” the boy huffed, “You’re always bullying me! I bet that you got so annoyed at me shooting the toy up near your face, that you decided to take matters into your own hands, and put an end to it!”

Tk! The nerve a’ this kid, coming up with a conspiracy to accuse me—! Didn’t he hear me so graciously apologize?!, Inuyasha thought. It was true that he had been ticked off by Shippo’s antics with the toy earlier, but jeez, what did the kid take him for? A ruthless savage?

(That was exactly what little Shippo took him for, and was currently cursing him as, in the seclusion of his own young mind.)

From Inuyasha’s less-emotionally-charged perspective, what had legitimately taken place was as such:

Only minutes ago, the hanyou had come to fetch Shippo as their traveling group was preparing to trek the unbeaten path again; he had found the fox tyke still incessantly playing with his new toy from Kagome. The boy had looked so focused on the device, however, that Inuyasha had inquired, “Hey Shippo, whatcha up to over here?”

“Ah, Inuyasha! I’m trying to make the spinner go as high into the air as possible! My record is up to that tree branch right there,” Shippo had answered in pure boyish excitement, with a finger pointed upward to a specific tree limb.

“Keh, as high as possible, huh? Give it here, runt.”

From what Inuyasha had seen, Shippo’s teal eyes had lit up in supposed understanding — the elder hanyou’s superior strength could rip on the string so hard, that the spinner would go soaring! — so the boy then eagerly handed the toy to him. Inuyasha’s mouth had lifted into a confident smirk, and he indeed yanked on the string with all his might… forgetting to consider that pulling the string so ruthlessly hard would surely snap it clean off of the toy.

It had been a complete accident, and this twerp knows it! “Keh, some conspiracy ya got there! Didntchya hear me say ‘sorry’ for it, ya pea-brain—”

Both youkais paused their bickering when their sensitive ears picked up familiar footsteps approaching. They turned to see Kagome emerging from the brush, holding an overgrown-branch out of her way as she gingerly navigated through the forest foliage, over to the two boys. “What’s going on over here, Inuyasha, Shippo?” They recognized her tone as her ‘mother-hen’ voice, patiently yet firmly prodding for information. “I heard arguing.”

In a flash, Shippo scampered across the leaf-litter and up into the comfort of Kagome’s arms. He finally allowed the wetness to pool up at the corners of his eyes in order to clearly demonstrate his distress, and cried out his explanation, “Kagome! Inuyasha broke my new toy that you gave to me!!”

Her thin eyebrows furrowed in seriousness as she looked up at the accused. “Inuyasha, is that true?”

Shippo cut back in before Inuyasha could defend himself. “Yeah, it’s true! He even did it on purpose!!”

Kagome turned her gaze back down to the distressed fox-boy in her arms. “Now Shippo, I’m sure that Inuyasha didn’t mean it on purpose. But Inuyasha,” again she switched the focus of her gaze, “did you break it?”

As her chocolate-brown eyes, patient, calm, and yet in the depths of them chastising, were pinned down onto him, Inuyasha found himself hesitating to answer. God, how stupid would he look to her if she learned how carelessly he had accidentally broken a kid’s toy? He could already envision the weird look she would give him! So — as it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks — the hanyou instinctively resorted to the one strategy nailed the hardest into his head: self-preservation. He covertly concealed his fistful of evidence behind his back before releasing the pull-string to drop to the ground. “Keh, of course not! I ain’t that thoughtless! Shippo here broke his own damn toy.”

Shippo’s bleary eyes widened and a small gasp of disbelief escaped his lips. That Inuyasha—! That— that big, stinking jerk, lying like that! How could he do this to me; after breaking my favorite toy, too?! His eyes flickered panickedly to Kagome’s own, staring back down at him. “He—! He’s lying!! He broke my toy, I saw it with my own eyes!”

“Shippo…”

“Y’know what I saw, runt?” Inuyasha said, as he crossed his arms and turned away huffily, “I saw an overly-excited twerp pullin’ on his toy’s string too hard, until it gave out an’ snapped!”

“I wasn’t the one who snapped the string, you’ve got to believe me, Kagome!” Shippo’s eyes pleaded with the girl cradling him; his shimmering tears threatened to pool over and freely flow down his young cheeks.

“Oh, ya didn’t, didya? Didn’t I hear ya say t’ me, ‘I’m trying ta make the spinner go as high in the air as possible’?”

He was being wronged, framed! How could Kagome, ever-wise and perfectly-just, possibly believe such lies from the guilty face of that, dirty scoundrel?! In that moment Shippo put every ounce of his belief into her natural, motherly ability to sniff out lies... And yet her gaze hardened on him. “Shippo… I know you’re upset about your toy, but you really shouldn’t be taking it out on Inuyasha.”

“W-what..?” he squeaked out weakly, not believing what he was hearing.

Kagome tilted her chin upward, closing her eyes as she held up a finger, looking as though she was reciting some line of ancient wisdom, as she said, “Acting like an adult means taking responsibility for your own mistakes.” Inuyasha sniffed arrogantly and turned his face away from Kagome. “Keh, yeah.”

“I’m very disappointed in you, Shippo. I suppose that next time I return home, I’ll have to refrain from buying you another toy, if you’re proven to not be responsible enough for them.”

Shippo’s small head whipped back and forth between the faces of his judge and jury absolute disbelief. But as the reality of Kagome’s statement sunk in, he paused. His protruding bottom lip began to quiver as he bit down on it, until… Shippo finally lost his composure with an explosion of distress, letting out a sharp wail and allowing the tears to fly from his eyeducts. He hopped out of Kagome’s arms and fled from the suffocating scene of utter betrayal, choking out, “It’s not fair, it’s not fair!!”

The two grown teenagers left behind watched after the fleeing boy; Kagome shaking her head with a sigh, and Inuyasha holding his nose in the air pointedly (although, admittedly a twinge of guilt ran through him).

It’s not fair it’s not fair it’s not fair—!!, Shippo’s mind ran out in protest. How could Kagome believe Inuyasha over himself? It was simply because he was a grown-up, while Shippo was a kid, wasn’t it? But that didn’t really count for anything — Shippo knew that, at least! Out of the two of them, he was definitely more mature and trustworthy than that Inuyasha; that rude, ungrateful, two-timer, who didn’t even understand his own feelings! That Inuyasha who had so little control over his temper, that he took it out on sweet, innocent little boys such as himself?! How could Kagome trust a guy like that?! Shippo’s raging mind kept circling back to the same conclusion: It wasn’t fair!

~~~

A calm, crisp night had come and gone, but it had done nothing to quell little Shippo’s fury. His frustration had kept him from a peaceful sleep, rendering the fox-youkai even more irritable, even as he now perched on Sango’s shoulder while their comrades continued their journeying. As the elder teenagers commented on the scenery and joked to pass the time, Shippo was too lost in his aggravated whirlwind of thoughts to pay any attention to them.

Ever since that fateful day when he had first encountered Inuyasha and Kagome in their travels, Inuyasha had harassed and insulted him. He had been the cause of a great many of Shippo’s frustrations, teary outbursts, bumps to the head, and loss of snacks… But this — breaking his new favorite toy, and then not even having the decency to own up to it, consequently getting Shippo in trouble — this had been the last straw! Everything before this had only been meager actions of pettiness meant to mess with him, but now, now that Inuyasha had purposefully, traitorously, gotten him into trouble with Kagome? That was it! There was only one possible response to this, and it rang out clearly: revenge. Sweet, sweet revenge. Obviously Shippo had no other option but to teach Inuyasha a lesson — one that would put an end to his reign of tyranny for good.

But how?

Inuyasha was bigger than him, stronger than him, faster than him, and had keener senses than him — it had always made Shippo an easy target for his brutality, and any time Shippo had made attempts to get back at him in the past, Inuyasha always got the last laugh regardless. He didn’t think he could rely on his fox magic for this mission of grand justice, because his signature tricks and illusions would be a dead giveaway of their conjuror to Inuyasha. No, this time he required some other way to get his revenge — some round-a-bout, discreet way that wouldn’t point a trail back to himself, for a furious Inuyasha to—

His scheming was abruptly interrupted by a sharp, familiar scent having been thrust into his nose by a gust of wind. Shippo inwardly groaned as the rest of the group took notice of the sudden wind and turned around to face its source. As if his mood wasn’t already soured enough, now he had to watch this arrogant, run-through-the-motions display?

“Hey there, Kagome,” said the source of the wind and pungent scent, their ally, Koga.

Shippo didn’t even need to see it in front of him to know that Koga was already up in Kagome’s personal space, snatching up her gentle hands in his rougher ones.

“H-hello, Koga..,” Kagome greeted him back, with just a hint of awkwardness. “What brings you here?”

The wolf-youkai chuckled, the rumbling sound absolutely dripping with cockiness, before he answered, “I need a reason to come see my woman?”

Shippo wrinkled up his nose in distaste. Koga had spared his life once, so, the boy couldn’t find it in himself to hate the guy; but that did not stop him from labeling the wolf-youkai as an arrogant moron. How could he not see that Kagome’s friendliness towards him was nothing special — only her characteristic kindness that she freely offered to everyone? Even that jerk Inuyasha could recognize.. at least some of her feelings! Speaking of which…

Like clockwork, after only a couple of sentences input from Koga, a clawed-hand ripped his hands away from Kagome’s before shoving the youkai away from her. “Hell yeah ya need a reason, there’s no woman of yours here!!”

As the same scene they had witnessed countless times replayed once more, the uninvolved members of the party stood back and searched for a place to sit, where they would wait for the routine cycle to run its course. While Sango found a comfortable place to sit against a log, Shippo hopped off of his seat on her shoulder to make his way over to Kagome. He still held some bitter feelings towards his caretaker for not trusting him on the toy incident, but, they weren’t enough to withhold his instincts to protect who he considered kin from the gruff, pushy Koga. So, while Kagome’s hands were free from that brute’s grasp, Shippo took the opportunity to jump up into her hold, occupying said hands to perhaps rescue them from being stolen up again.

Shippo looked on as Koga’s entire face narrowed in displeasure at Inuyasha’s interruption, a complete opposite of the expression he wore only seconds before. “Tk, you just keep telling yourself that, mutt,” he responded. “But, y’know what, fine — the truth is…” Before anyone could react Koga had zipped past Inuyasha and was standing at Kagome’s side again. In the girl’s arms, Shippo squinted critically up at her assaulter, but it went wholly unnoticed.

Koga continued, “I came across a youkai who was looking for jewel shards, and the bastard had mentioned a pretty girl who held some shards so, naturally I assumed it was speaking of Kagome. I was worried,” he placed gentle hands on her shoulders as he said to her, “You alright? You’re not hurt?”

Again Inuyasha interrupted, “She’s fine, flea-bag; so why dontcha get your filthy mitts offa her and get lost already!”

Shippo silently agreed — as much as he loathed to be agreeing with Inuyasha right now — and he glared even harder up at Koga, frustrated that his subtle plan of keeping his hands off of Kagome had been in vain. Koga shot the indignant hanyou a glare, while Kagome also looked back at him and addressed him, “Inuyasha… Koga’s only asking how I’m doing, there’s no harm in answering him real quick…”

“No harm in—! Hmph, well, what about letting him grab ya like that?! You let him touch ya so much you two might as well be—“

“Inuyasha…”

Here it comes, Shippo thought, the ‘sit’ Inuyasha always earns whenever Koga comes around… But, as Kagome’s warning tone had been enough for Inuyasha to shut his trap before he reached the point of no return, the command surprisingly didn’t come. Kagome softened her gaze as she looked back up at Koga. “Anyways, yes Koga, I’m alright… It’s nothing that I can’t handle,” she answered with an upbeat smile.

Her words did not seem to satisfy him, however. “Nothing that you can't handle..? Kagome…”

“Okay well, maybe I’ve gotten a few scrapes here and there, and lately I’ve been wishing we could take longer breaks,” here she pointed another look back at Inuyasha, “But I’m fine, really.”

Alarm bells went off in Shippo’s head as Koga stepped even closer to Kagome, his form towering over hers creating somewhat of a more intimate moment between them. Indignantly the protective fox-boy in her arms immediately hopped to his feet, and attempted to push the wolf-youkai’s torso away from his caretaker, but to no avail.

“Kagome,” Koga began, “I know that you want to stay with your little pack, but if you ever wish to be taken better care of, I—“

He was cut off, and nearly cut open, by a giant swing of Inuyasha’s Tetsusaiga. The dust kicked up by the massive sword’s impact with the ground gradually began to settle, as the wolf-youkai landed back on his own feet about a yard away, developing an expression of pure rage. His shoulders tensed forward, his clawed hands balled into tight fists, and his whole face narrowed, save for his nostrils flaring. “How dare you interrupt me when I’m having a moment with my woman, you mutt-faced mongrel..,” he half-growled out.

“Keh-! ‘A moment’? Sounded more like a load of bull-crap to me, you mangy wolf!”

Fight, fight, fight! Shippo’s mind chanted impishly. Inuyasha should teach that creep to leave Kagome alone! ..But, at the same time... I wouldn’t mind seeing Koga make Inuyasha suffer a bit... He’s a strong youkai, and can do what I can’t.

However, to everyone’s surprise, Inuyasha turned away from Koga, ignoring the hostile youkai for a moment, to address Kagome’s previous comment. “You’ve been wanting to rest longer? Why didn't’cha speak up about it before?!”

Shippo tilted his head upwards to observe her reaction; she blinked, her eyes widening. “Um, because... I thought you wouldn’t want to hear it..?”

“Dammit Kagome, I’ve noticed ya acting more sluggish lately… Don’t think that I’ll take any complainin’ from ya, but jeez, if it’s necessary... You’ve gotta take care of yourself!”

Somehow her eyelids and eyebrows simultaneously raised even further in astonishment, as a hint of a blush crept into her cheeks. “Inuyasha…”

Sudden movement caught Shippo’s attention to witness Inuyasha, seemingly in embarrassment, whip his face away from Kagome’s view. “W-Well, ya ain’t of any use to me dead — Not any of ya!” he awkwardly recovered.

A new voice chimed in, “Well, my neck has been bothering me quite a bit lately…”

“Shut up, Miroku!!”

Meanwhile, Shippo and Koga appeared to be the only ones who were untouched by Inuyasha’s rough admittance of care for his companions. Telling us to take care of ourselves… Pretending to care about our health… The number of blows to the head he’s given me himself are countless — I bet he’s knocked off a few years of my life, even!

The group was reminded of a certain enraged wolf-youkai’s presence when he began to let out a low growl, his eyebrow twitching at being ignored. “Hey,” he interrupted the interruption, “Well as much as I’d love to rip you apart, you half-breed scum, I don’t have time to wait for you to decide whether you’re brave enough to come at me or not.” Koga cockily played it off, as always, as if he was the one championing a victory over the day.

Inuyasha rolled his head back with pure exasperated irritation, before he turned back to face the wolf-youkai, his fingers re-clenching the handle of his Tetsusaiga. “Then get outta here already, nothing’s stopping ya.”

Koga’s nostrils flared as he sharply took in an infuriated breath, tensing up his entire body for a moment — before releasing the breath and relaxing, straightening up his back. His blue eyes flickered to Kagome and a look of remorse flashed across his features, most likely as he calculated that he could not get to her with Inuyasha standing protectively right in the way. He leaned outwards to view her whole face past Inuyasha’s form, and waved a hand as he said to her, “I don’t want to stir up trouble in front of you, Kagome, so I’ll be going now.” He winked at her. “See ya.”

With a roll of his eyes, Shippo thought, Doesn’t want to stir up trouble in front of Kagome? The moron stirs up trouble just by coming around to see her! He stuck out his tongue in distaste, as he looked up at Kagome’s face to judge her own reaction. She smiled, and the fox-boy recognized it as a purely polite one, as she waved back, “Take care, Koga.”

Fully expecting Koga to immediately turn tail and stir up a whirlwind with his departure, Shippo shielded his face, before realizing that the wolf-youkai wasn’t finished yet. With a displeased growl he turned his sour gaze back to Inuyasha, and added, “You’ll regret coming between me and my woman you low-life… I can only hope you get what’s coming to you.”

With a start, Shippo’s ear twitched as he understood the truly icy tone of Koga’s voice: revenge, a craving for it. As the elder youkai sped away into the distance, it was then that Shippo had the epiphany — he and Koga were in the same boat. Though Koga and Inuyasha were so alike in their rude, brutish ways, Koga was equally as frustrated with the hanyou as Shippo was, and equally as unable to do something about it without facing repercussions. However, there was one advantage Koga possessed that Shippo did not, and that was being a youkai of Inuyasha’s  stature, a youkai evenly matched against Inuyasha. He could perform some of the more elaborate pranks that Shippo had conceptualized in his impish-mentality; perhaps… Koga could be the indirect route that he required for truly-successful revenge on Inuyasha.

~~~

As the hours lazily dragged on, the conspirator anxiously anticipated the dark veil of nighttime to begin on his scheme of revenge. While his comrades would fall prey to their weariness and dream away, he would leave behind a false clone of himself to further avoid suspicion as he would, in actuality, be sneaking off to track down the wolf-youkai leader — the sole candidate for the position of a worthy partner-in-crime.

Staying awake through the night had proven much more testing than Shippo had initially thought, but having taken a nap earlier in the afternoon hours, he had managed to pull through. All had gone to plan; Inuyasha had no detection of his suspicious activeness in the night, and the cunning fox-youkai was now floating high over the forest terrain in his not-so-inconspicuous ballon-form, as he strained his nose to track a scent.

Being an animalistic youkai, he did possess a heightened sense of smell, but even so it was untrained and not even fully developed; it was nowhere near the level of tracking capability that youkais like Inuyasha and Koga utilized. He had barely managed to pick up the latter-youkai’s scent on the cool night air, but now the boy was finding difficulty in following the faint trail. However, unlike those canine-youkais who relied so heavily on their keen noses alone, Shippo thought to apply his perceptiveness to other methods of tracking, in order to compensate for his mediocre sense of smell. His teal eyes scanned through the darkness for trees shaken up by Koga’s whirlwind; his sharpened ears were at attention for—

Wolf howls, carrying clearly through the silent nighttime air, as if on cue. Shippo drifted in the vague direction of the echoing noise, and after a moment began to doubt his trajectory; until thankfully another howl was let loose, allowing him to pinpoint the exact location of its source. The obnoxious-looking balloon descended right above the spot, and with an unnatural pop!, transformed back into a young boy who landed on a branch of the forest’s canopy. He hopped down the layers of branches similarly to a squirrel, heading for a better view point to watch for the wolves’ alpha. He could only reveal himself if Koga was around, otherwise, his wolves probably wouldn’t hesitate to eat the young fox!

A secure branch both a couple of feet away and a couple of feet above the wolves’ heads seemed satisfactory, so there Shippo perched and began to peer out over the wolfpack. Wolves, wolves, and, more wolves... Huh. No wolf-youkais to be seen, only ordinary wolves… Could this just be a regular wolfpack that I tracked...?! In exasperation he let out a sigh of defeat, and flopped back against the tree trunk that his branch was attached to. A couple of the nearest wolves’ ears flicked towards his direction, but Shippo decided that he was at a safe enough height to have no reason to worry if they noticed his presence anymore.

Or, so he thought.

Before his brain could even process the occurrence, something had snatched him up by the tail and dragged him off the security of his branch. The boy’s eyes shot wide open with terror as he dangled precariously over the menacing hoard of wolves, thinking to himself, This is it, this is it—! This had all been a terrible idea — why did I think to go off on my own?!

“Well, well, what‘ve we got here?” a roguish voice spoke, and it was then that Shippo realized that his tail was firmly grasped in a large hand, not a snout of glistening fangs. He craned his head upwards to see the face of his assailant: Koga himself.

His intimidatingly-sharp eyes were gleaming in the moonlight and his fanged-smile was twisted up into a sardonic grin; with a shudder, Shippo recognized it as the trademark expression of a bloodthirsty killer. He had never seen the wolf-youkai make such an expression; even back when he and Kagome had first met Koga on not-so-friendly terms, when he had thrown the boy to his wolves, he had only sported a look of indifference. Now, Shippo was seeing that Koga wore it well, as if he wore it often… I thought Koga had been changed by Kagome, I thought he was our ally and wouldn’t harm me — is all the ‘ally’ shtick just for appearances, to look good in front of Kagome?! Curse him! Curse him, he’s even worse than Inuyasha! He never truly changed — I put my trust in him and now I only see him for what he truly is: evil! Evil, evil, evi—!

Shippo was so shaken by his enraged thoughts that he didn’t notice the wolf’s features shift from menacing to questioning. “Wait… Aren’t ya that little fox tyke that Kagome’s taken in?”

Said fox tyke’s scornful eyebrows shot up as he recognized a possible hook to escape from this peril. “Yeah! Yeah, I am! So you better not eat me, or else Kagome will never—!“

Koga’s fierce gaze softened, more to one of... friendliness? Yes, a sense of carefree friendliness and amusement twinkled in his sharp blue eyes, as his eyebrows relaxed to their typical cocky posture. He held up his free hand as a signal for his wolves to back down, before gently setting Shippo back upright on a nearby rock and squatting down to look him in the eye. “Well, if my woman’s taken ya in, then I’ve taken ya in,” Koga said decisively.

Okay, maybe Shippo had let the blood get to his head, and all that he had previously thought only moments ago about Koga being pure evil, was actually null and void.

“What brings you out here all alone, and at night, kid? From what I can smell, Kagome’s quite a ways away.”

Shippo breathed out a sigh of relief that he was correct in his original assumptions of Koga. “I was looking for you,” he started.

Koga raised an eyebrow. “Eh? Why, what can I do for ya?”

The fox-boy planted his hands on his knees and leaned forward conspiritively, with a sneer. “3 words: Revenge on Inuyasha.”

Now both of the wolf-youkai’s eyebrows raised... before furrowing in suspicion. “What? You’re all friends, arentcha? Is this... some kind of trick?”

“A trick? No, no no!” Shippo exclaimed and frantically waved his hands for emphasis. “All of us are friends — all of us, except for me and Inuyasha. You see, that uptight brute is always bullying me; he steals my food, insults my courage, and beats me up!! Does that sound like a friend to you?”

He actually gave it a moment of thought. “...No, I suppose it doesn’t.”

(Somewhere behind him, Ginta and Hakkaku’s faces simultaneously darken, drilling holes into the back of Koga’s head as they think, Those are exactly the things he does to us!!)

“So, ya wanna get back at Inutrasha, and you want my help for it? What do you want me to do, kid, beat him up for ya? Believe me, I’d’ve done that on my own a long time ago; but unfortunately I don’t think Kagome would appreciate that very much…”

“I already assumed you’d think as such,” the young fox replied, as he folded his arms within his loose sleeves sagely. “I can’t just use my tricks and beat him up either, he always knows it’s me and will just hurt me all over again! That’s why,” he concluded, “we should work together.”

“Work together?” Koga echoed.

“Yes. With my vast knowledge of trickery and Inuyasha himself, combined with your grown-up size and strength, together we can teach him a real lesson, and without getting in trouble for it!”

“Hmm,” Koga squinted seriously at the scheming fox-youkai. “That does sound tempting… But, what if I decide that my time is better spent hunting down Naraku, the despicable bastard that he is?”

“You yourself said it earlier: you hope Inuyasha gets what’s coming to him — This is what’s coming to him! But he won’t ever get it, not without your help!”

Although not phrased in the most eloquently compelling way, little Shippo’s meaning rang true in Koga’s ears. Pondering over the matter, he recalled that the whiff of Naraku’s scent that he and his wolves had been chasing had gone stale this morning... Perhaps his loyal companions could use a day-or-so’s respite. “Alright, you got yourself a deal, kid.”

Shippo’s harsh conniving grin softened into a genuine, beaming smile up at the wolf-youkai leader, as he henceforth decided that he preferred this gruff canine over the one he traveled with anyday. His so-called-friend Inuyasha never took his brilliant, cunning ideas seriously! Koga flashed the young fox a friendly smirk in return, before he stood back up to his full height and extended an elbow out to him, wordlessly offering a perch for the smaller youkai. Shippo graciously accepted the affable action with an effortless leap up onto the wolf’s shoulder.

Koga and his wolfpack began navigating through the trees once more as he continued, “So, what’s our first move?”

TO BE CONTINUED...

Further disclaimer: I am aware that Inuyasha ignoring Koga for a moment and not immediately going after his throat might be a bit out of character, but, I needed Inuyasha to have some sort of ‘win’ to get Koga frustrated enough to say what he did about ‘getting whats coming to him’.

And also, I saw that another of your prompts avannak was Inuyasha and Shippo having brotherly/fatherly bonding, so, don’t worry, it doesn’t end here with such negativity from Shippo towards Inuyasha! Brothers fight sometimes, and kids tend to over-exaggerate things, right? ;D hahaha