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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

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It’s Always The Quiet Ones... | college AU dark!Peter Parker x (slightly)naive!reader

for @nsfwsebbie‘s dream fic challenge, I was assigned to write something for @harryspet which was vv exciting bc I love her stuff ;-; no pressure right? lol (also thank you to @evnscvll for being my proofreader, sounding board, and partner for some very strange texting for the purpose of screenshots!)

Here is the prompt I got: peter is a dork and is weird and quiet, and the readers friends dared her to sleep with him. turns out he was really kinky and is really good at sex. can be dark. And hoo boy, did I run with that. I hope you like it!!

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: smut (it’s consensual but with dubcon undertones, manipulation, and implied coercion/dubcon at the end), stalking, blackmail, voyeurism, and general creepiness. Oh yeah and there’s some degradation and dacryphilia in there for good measure.

You and your friends were in the middle of your daily cafeteria lunch, chatting about the same sorts of small talk you always did.

“Oh god, it’s that weird guy from class!” Jackie blurted out suddenly around a mouthful of fries, pulling you out of the conversation you’d been having. Everyone at the table whipped around and your eyes went wide.

“Come on, don’t look all at once,” you hissed.

“Who is this guy?” Cody asked, looking around with confusion.

“The guy in the blue hoodie over there,” Jackie answered, motioning toward him with her head. It was Peter, setting down his tray of food and opening up his laptop, putting earbuds in. He was pretty much always on his laptop, it seemed like. He took a bite of his pizza before getting back to whatever he was working on.

“He looks normal, or normal-ish,” Mia shrugged.

“No, no, you don’t get it,” you shook your head. “We have him in Computational Physics on Tuesdays and Thursdays--”

“Plus Friday lab,” Jackie interjected.

“--and he’s… kinda…”

“Creepy,” Jackie concluded.

“No,” you denied, “not creepy. He’s just… a bit awkward, I guess.”

“And he stares at you, like, the entire time we’re in class. But won’t even talk to you.”

“Oh, that’s weird,” Mia agreed with a shudder.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it’s kinda… sweet, maybe? I mean, he’s just shy, right?”

“Oh my god you are such a slag!” Jackie teased, shoving you on the shoulder. “You’re into him, aren’t you?”

“No!” you denied with wide eyes.

“You’re just into the attention,” Cody rolled his eyes.

“I mean, it’s kind of flattering, isn’t it?” you admitted. Jackie laughed.

“You should go over there and talk to him,” she decided.

“Nooooooooo, no way,” you shake your head.

“I kinda wanna see this,” Cody smirks.

“Literally just go over there and flirt with him, his head would explode,” Jackie suggested excitedly.

“I don’t even know how to flirt,” you chuckled.

“So you’re considering it!” Mia accused.

“I didn’t say that!” you squeaked.

“Pleeeeeease,” Jackie whined playfully. “It’ll be funny.”

“I don’t usually sleep with people for comedic effect.”

“I’ll chip in $20 if you do it,” she offered immediately. She turned to the rest of the table, “come on guys, we need to pool together and make her do it.”

“I’ve only got a ten,” Cody mumbled, pulling it out slowly before Jackie snatched it away.

“Okay, $30, who can make it $50?”

“Jackie, calm down,” you hissed.

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t sleep with him for $50? He’s cute!”

“I have $35 and 67 cents,” Mia counted, shuffling through her wallet.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, your head falling into your hands.

“Just do it, for me,” Jackie said, suddenly sounding oddly serious. You didn’t understand why it mattered so much, but you decided it couldn’t be that bad if you just did it.

“Fine, fine, just shut up and don’t stare at us,” you instructed, getting up to a ruckus of cheers. You didn’t even take the money.

You walked across the cafeteria, messenger bag slung over your shoulder, and hoped you wouldn’t totally make an idiot of yourself. If you hadn’t already just by talking to a guy over a dare.

He didn’t seem to notice you when you stood by his table, still focusing on his computer.

“Um, hey,” you waved, and Peter looked up at you as he took out his earbuds.

“Hi,” he replied quickly.

“What… what are you working on?” you asked, motioning to the laptop. He didn’t stop looking at you, and he didn’t say anything. “I… we have comp together? You know who I am, right?”

“O-of course I do!” he suddenly perked up. “Yeah, I just…” he trailed off and turned to his laptop. “I was just working on this model.”

“Can I take a look?”

He smiled a little, and moved his backpack out of the seat next to him. “Go ahead!”

You sat down and leaned in to look at his screen.

“It’s-- it’s not finished but, basically I just put the kinetic energy of an object on the x-axis, the potential energy on the y-axis--”

You used the laptop’s touch screen to move the model around, impressed with his work. “And the z-axis is the conservation of energy for work done on an object,” you finished.

“Uh, yeah, exactly,” he nodded.

“It’s beautiful!” you realized, appreciating the variety of colors as each data point was suspended in the graph.

“Do you do any modeling?” he asked you, and for a hot second it felt like a line.

“Um,” you laughed, “no, not much at least. Nothing extracurricular.”

“Oh.”

“I’m more into abstract math, if I’m being honest.”

He smiled. “Oh, you’re one of those.”

You laughed, shoving him on the shoulder playfully, but regretting it as you saw his smile drop a bit. “People are so judgmental about abstract math, as if it isn’t the study of the founding principles of mathematics.”

“So you think adding a pineapple and a banana is the foundation of mathematics?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Okay, there’s so much more to abstract mathematics than weird variables,” you frowned. “Like basic functions on matrices! Don’t act like it isn’t dope as fuck to add, subtract, multiply and divide matrices. If you saw my whiteboard in my dorm you would understand.”

“If I had a whiteboard now I could prove to you that abstract math is overrated,” he countered.

“I’d love to see you try,” you scoffed. You hadn’t really meant it literally.

“I don’t have anything for the rest of the day,” he shrugged. It took you a moment to realize he was suggesting to actually come to your room and talk about math. You weren’t sure if that was even what would happen if you went back to your dorm…

You opened your mouth to say that you were busy, that you couldn’t, that you shouldn’t, so you were a little surprised when you heard yourself say “sure” instead.

And that was how you ended up sitting on your kitchen counter with Peter Parker between your legs, kissing you like you’d never been kissed before.

It sort of happened all at once. He just grabbed you and you were confused but went with it, because life is short and he was cute and his hands felt unexpectedly wonderful as they gripped your back.

You gasped a bit when he started to pull your shirt over your head but he didn’t slow down, quickly removing his own-- oh, hello there six-pack, nice to meet you-- kissing you again as he wrapped his hands around your waist and slid you off the counter, guiding your legs to wrap around his hips. He carried you to the bedroom with unexpected grace; he was so much stronger than he looked. And he looked different than he ever had before as he tossed you down onto your bed and started to kiss his way down your abdomen while his fingers slipped under the waistband of your shorts.

“Oh god, Peter!” you yelped as he kissed along your thighs, pulling down your shorts and underwear and tossing them to the side.

“Say my name again,” he demanded before instantly latching onto your clit, sucking and licking directly onto the bundle of nerves.

And you really had no choice in the matter, his name pouring from your lips over and over, accentuated with a yelp as he shoved two fingers into you, finding and massaging your g-spot before you could even process everything you were feeling.

“Oh my god, fuck, Peter!” you hissed, your head falling back onto the mattress so hard it bounced a little.

You were barreling towards an orgasm faster than you probably ever had before. This was nothing like the few other hook-ups you’d had since starting college-- it wasn’t even like the times you’d been alone with your hand or a vibrator. This was like an assault on the senses, so powerful that you couldn’t even really keep track of the sounds you were making or anything that wasn’t his mouth on you and his fingers in you.

“I’m gonna come, oh my god, I’m gonna come don’t stop please--” you moaned as your words turned into mostly incoherent nonsense. How could you be expected to form a sentence in these conditions?

Thankfully, he didn’t stop. He kept lapping at your clit as if he hadn’t even noticed your pleading, his fingers twisting inside you even as your walls clenched so tightly around them that it became difficult to keep up the pace. Your hips involuntarily bucked against his face, your legs quivered as he refused to give you any reprieve from the sensation, but he kept going.

“Oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck Peter I can’t-- it’s too much-- oh god,” you babbled, but it fell on deaf ears. A small part of your brain was confused why he wouldn’t stop-- you hadn’t told him outright to stop but it was kind of implied, right? Wasn’t it some amount of not okay that he was still going? It made your gut sink in a way that was equal parts disturbing and erotic.

You were trying to pull away but his arms wrapped around your thighs and held you down. God, he was strong. He looked kind of skinny in those hoodies he was usually wearing, but now that he was actually exerting some force he was clearly muscular. You felt helpless and it, oddly enough, turned you on.

“Peter, please, oh my god, slow down I-- I can’t take any more,” you whimpered; your voice came out all high-pitched and squeaky and it would’ve been embarrassing if you had enough brainpower left to care.

He groaned against your skin but said nothing, using his teeth to lightly graze your clit. Your whole body jerked at that, a sob tearing from your lips suddenly. It felt like you were past the point of orgasm now and just lost in some sort of aggressively intense world of pleasure-- it neared pain, really. You had never been pushed to your limits like this; you hadn’t even realized that there were limits which one could be pushed to this way! It was exhilarating and exhausting and overwhelming. You fought tears from forming because it would be so embarrassing to cry right now, and he would probably freak out and think you were hurt or something… maybe you were hurt, you couldn’t even tell at this point. But at this point, it was unstoppable. You were fucking crying from the overstimulation and he hadn’t even put his cock in you yet. Your face was so hot that your own tears felt cool as they poured down your cheeks.

Finally, he stopped when he heard your sobs. But instead of concern or fear or confusion, his expression was simply joy.

“Oh, you look so cute when you cry,” he cooed, sliding back up your body to kiss your tears away as they fell. Then he kissed your mouth, open and sloppy and aggressive, and the taste of yourself on his tongue made your head spin.

Before you could collect your thoughts, he pulled back and made quick work of his jeans and boxers-- fuck, he was big.

“You’re too kind,” he grinned, discarding the clothes and stroking his cock a few times.

You hadn’t realized you had said it out loud, and you felt a little nervous but then he was on you again, kissing you roughly and forcing his tongue into your mouth. You felt him reaching down, gripping his cock and rubbing it through your folds. You were soaked, and swollen, and nearly sore. Every time the tip slid over your clit, you jumped a little.

He pushed into you ever so slightly, moving the head of his cock inside you and nothing more. You whined with confusion and anticipation, but he continued on teasing you.

“Please,” you whimpered into his kiss.

He pulled back and looked down at you, his eyes blown so wide that they looked like they’d gone black. “What was that?” he asked, and you sighed because you knew he could hear you the first time.

“Please, Peter,” you repeated, louder, “I need more.”

“More…?”

You sobbed with frustration, and desire. “Fuck me, please.”

He thrusted forward and you groaned as his cock stretched you open. It was like night and day, how he went from slowly teasing you to slamming into your eager walls. You cried out and gripped at his arms, just trying to steady yourself and maybe stop your skull from whacking the headboard if possible.

“You love it, don’t you? You love my cock,” he growled. His voice was lower, gravelly. He sounded like an entirely different person.

“Yes,” you replied weakly.

“Say it,” he demanded.

No one had ever talked to you like this before and it made your cheeks burn. “I-- I love your cock,” you stammered.

He smiled and you hoped you’d done it right, and that he wasn’t smiling at your obvious nervousness or lack of experience. You didn’t understand how this was normally supposed to go, because you didn’t normally hook up with people so casually-- you had just never really been interested in it. But now that he was fucking you so hard you could barely breathe, you were starting to get the appeal. God, your last boyfriend hadn’t even made you come in five months of dating, meanwhile five minutes with Peter had made you a sobbing mess. Even now you were biting your lip to hold back your tears from the sheer intensity of the sensations you were experiencing.

“Oh, you poor thing,” he pouted condescendingly. “You don’t wanna cry but you can’t help it, huh? You’re my dumb little crybaby aren’t you?”

You tried not to react to that but you knew he felt your walls clench suddenly.

“You like that? You like being my stupid whore?”

“S-stop,” you begged weakly, feeling beyond humiliated.

“But you like it, angel, I can tell. Don’t lie to me.”

He reached down to swirl his thumb over your clit, laughing at the way you tensed up and tried to squirm away.

“Is it too much princess?” he asked, but the nickname read less sweet and more mocking. “Isn’t this what you wanted? You asked me to fuck you. Begged me. Now you act like you can’t take it, like you’re this delicate little flower and not the dirty fucking whore I know you are.”

“I-- I’m not a whore,” you denied even as you struggled to suppress your obvious arousal from the derogatory nature of his words. You felt a little guilty for being into it, and slightly insulted, but fuck if it didn’t make your back arch and your throat dry and your pussy so excessively wet.

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” he scoffed. “But, maybe you’re not playing. You really are dumb, aren’t you?”

You logically knew that it was too late to deny anything he said, but you still clung onto your dignity as best you could. “N-no!”

“Not all the time, just when you’re wet. Isn’t that right? You get so desperate for cock and you don’t wanna be smart, you just wanna be somebody’s brainless fuckdoll.”

That sounded so appealing in some forbidden, filthy way and all of a sudden you were going to come again, any second now.

“Yes!” you nearly screamed, falling into your pleasure.

“Come on my cock, baby,” he encouraged, “come for me.”

You didn’t even sound like yourself with the noises you made, or maybe it was just that you’d never had the chance to make noises like that before. Either way, your orgasm crashed through you and nearly punched the air out of your lungs. Your toes went numb. You didn’t even know that could happen. And most important of all, your walls tensed and fluttered so hard that he began moaning into your ear.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna come inside you.” You couldn’t tell if it was a warning, like he was asking permission, or if he was just informing you of his intentions which you would be powerless to stop even if you told him not to. You didn’t have to find out because you were on the pill, but it made you realize all too suddenly that you should’ve had him put on a condom-- how could you have forgotten?

His moans turned hoarse and with a growl and a tightened grip on your hips, he spilled deep in you, coating your walls as his length flexed and twitched inside you. For a moment you were just stuck like that, his weight holding you down as he caught his breath, and finally he rolled to the side and you could breathe cool air again.

“That was…” he began but trailed off, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

It was quite the shift from how he had been talking before. It was comforting, but you were still a little confused. “Really?”

He laughed softly. “Did you not notice? God, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

You were curious about where he was going with that, but then he suddenly sat up.

“Do you want some water?” he offered.

“Uh, yeah,” you smiled. “The cups are in the cabinet just to the left of the microwave.”

He nodded and gave you a quick peck on the cheek before sliding out of the bed, slipping his boxers on over his still-hard cock which was now coated in your come and his, and dashing out of the room.

You were mostly content to just lay there, although you felt uncharacteristically sore between your legs, and quite… sticky. You glanced over to your whiteboard and realized he never had any intentions of talking with you about abstract math. Was this just a one-time thing, or was he going to come back and ask you out? Were you boyfriend and girlfriend now? Or were you just a clueless romantic who thought that sleeping together meant more than it really did?

You rolled over and saw Peter’s phone resting on the bedside table. He must have set it there when he was stripping quickly while you two had been making out-- or that’s what you were pretty sure the order of events had been, it had all happened so fast…

At that exact moment, the screen lit up with a notification. You were about to roll back and not look at all, until you got a glimpse of the words.

PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14

You furrowed your brow. It looked like an alert for an upcoming class, except that this was your class, the one you had with him, and it wasn’t until tomorrow. No assignments due today, either. And what was with the row/seat thing? Peter didn’t sit in the third row… you did.

You picked up the phone just enough to angle it to see the rest of the notification. It wasn’t a calendar alert; it was a text message. “PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14” was the contact name. You could only get a preview of the message…

okay, it’s done isn’t it? can you please delete those pic….

You were curious, or maybe just concerned. Was the seat number supposed to be the person texting him? How were you supposed to keep track of who sat where to know who it was?

It had to be somebody from your row, but it was just you, Jackie, and a bunch of random dudes that Peter had never seemed to have any interaction with.

You assumed you wouldn’t be able to unlock the phone to even try to snoop, which you didn’t want to do anyways, but when you slid your thumb over the screen, you gasped when it opened straight to the conversation. Who didn’t put a password on their phone?

okay, it’s done isn’t it? can you please delete those pictures now? I did what you asked. I won’t tell anyone. just send me proof that the photos are gone, please.

You felt a little sick. You had no idea what this meant but it scared you. You saw the conversation from before but it didn’t make any sense. You scrolled back up to try to figure out what they were talking about and gasped when you saw a picture Peter had sent to the contact.

It was Jackie. But she wasn’t alone. She was on her knees in the lab room, and you gagged when you realized what she was doing-- or really, who she was doing it to.

She’d told you she had a casual thing with a new guy but refused to say who it was. You realized why now. She was fucking your professor, and you just knew she was doing it to get a better grade. You had been trying to figure out how she was earning higher marks than you but never seemed to be able to discuss the class material. It all made sense now, but it wasn’t a comforting feeling.

You scrolled down a bit to see the conversation after the photo, and your blood went cold as you read it.

You saw several more messages but you couldn’t bring yourself to read any of it. You knew everything you needed to know.

You weren’t sure what inspired you to open his camera roll… of course you wouldn’t find anything comforting there. But you had to see for yourself.

It was just a list of folders, so many you could keep scrolling for ages. Each had a label and a thumbnail image.

The thumbnail of Jackie on her knees jumped out first. PHYS 507, row 3, seat 14. 45 images.

A girl in a lacy bra posing for the camera. PHYS 509, row 1, seat 8. 12 images.

Two girls making out in a crowded room, holding red solo cups. ENGL 104, row 12, seat 5. 6 images.

A nude selfie in front of a mirror. PHIL 108, row 2, seat 2. 14 images.

And then the one that made your heart stop. It was a picture of you in a bikini, taken by a friend on spring break. PHYS 507, row 3, seat 13. 1 image.

The second you jumped up, dropping the phone, he was there with your promised glass of water in hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked innocently. Just a second of silence was enough for him to pick up his phone from the floor and realize what had happened with a grin. “Oh, that,” he sighed, slipping it into his pocket after looking down at it with a sort of loving look, like he was proud of his work. “I suppose it’s my fault for leaving my phone right there, without a password, knowing I would get a text from Jackie any minute.”

“You wanted me to see it,” you grimaced, “you wanted me to see what you did to my friend. What you did to all those girls.”

“I didn’t do anything. They do all the heavy lifting, I just hack them and get pictures of it. Or, in your friend’s case, I hack them, find out they’re fucking the professor, and follow them to their next rendezvous.”

“You’re fucking sick,” you spat, and he just shrugged. “You’d better delete those photos of Jackie.”

“I will, don’t worry,” he soothed. “It’s a shame though, she was pretty prolific. You, on the other hand, you’re a good girl. You even had pretty good security, I respect that. Here’s a tip: your ISP creates the intranet that your wireless webcam uses to connect to your laptop. It’s password protected, but it defaults to your phone number, and most people never change it. Including yourself.”

You shivered. “You watched me with it, didn’t you?”

“Well, I had to since you didn’t have any good photos of yourself. And you do a decent job of erasing your porn history… but not a perfect job. You watch some interesting stuff. And you look so hot with your hand stuffed in your panties, rubbing yourself to whatever nasty shit you’re watching...”

“Shut up,” you demanded, covering your ears, “stop, please. This is so fucked up.”

He laughed a little. “You look better in person though. A webcam could never capture how perfect you look when you come.”

“Please just stop,” you sobbed.

“Stop what? I’m just telling you the truth.”

“I should’ve listened to my friends. You’re a freak.”

“Hmm, you seemed to like it before.”

“Just delete those pictures of Jackie… and let me go…” you seethed.

“I will,” he promised. “But, I need something to make up for the loss of some great spank bank material.”

You felt sick. But what else was new?

“I need to finally get some good pictures of you. Come on, isn’t it sad that your folder is so empty?” he pouted, pulling the phone back out from his pocket. “I could ruin a lot of lives with these folders. Just let me take a few photos and you can spare them all the humiliation. Nothing I haven’t seen you do before.”

You really really wanted to just deck him, but you knew he could probably release those photos with just one push of a button. He was prepared.

“Don’t post them,” you pleaded.

“You’ll be good?”

You clenched your jaw. “I’ll be good,” you answered through your teeth.

“Oh, look at you,” he cooed, “such a sweet girl you are. Helping out your friend even after she threw you into the lion’s den to protect her secret.”

You hadn’t thought about it that way. A pit formed in your stomach.

“Now come over here and get on your knees,” he grinned, turning on the camera.

#peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #dark!peter parker #dom peter parker x sub reader #dark!peter parker x reader #dom!peter parker #dom!peter parker x sub reader #spiderman x reader #night monkey x reader #lmao #peter parker smut #tom holland smut #tom holland x y/n #peter parker x y/n #sabs dream fic challenge

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roshii-pix · 2 years

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Sleep wake event for YNFGs

This is a sleep wake event for Yume Nikki Fangames that involve beds.

Honestly I’m only writing this bc i feel like my computer’s going to delete all my progress towards the game and i cannot be bothered to brute force it again. Hopefully this helps someone else though.

(This was made using the steam version, idk if it makes a difference though)

So, Step one is to have at least three maps:

Real life bedroom

Sleeping bedroom

Dream map

Make sure that there is a switch that is toggled when entering and exiting the dream world. I called mine sleep.

Step Two is to make your animations. There will be three needed:

Walking into the bed

Walking out of bed

Cheek pinch/whatever wake up thing you have.

Step Three is to bind your key. This means that whenever this key is pressed It will do the code that attached to it. To bind your key:

Create a common event and call it Button input

Create a second common event and call it Wake up_ (Although this isn’t necessary, if you put all the code into one event, Your mc will slide around during the animation)_

In the Button input event, find the key input processing button _(should be on page three) _and open it.

In key input processing choose your variable _(It’s best to call it input processing or something similar but you can technically name it whatever) _and unselect every button except the one you want (normally the number key)

It should look like this:

Step Four is to call the event Wake up withing the Button input event and turn the button input event into a Parallel Process

Step Five is to switch to the Wake up event and turn it into an autorun event with a condition switch (This switch has to be unique for this event and can be called anything (mine’s called ----------))

Step Six is to create the wake up event itself - I cant explain it that well so i’m just going to add a screenshot:

If you want your wake up key to be 9 you have to choose 19, else follow the instructions on the key input processing.

The final Step is to play the animations for getting into and out of bed.

Getting into bed:

Create an event on the bed, set the trigger to ‘action button’ and the priority to ‘same as player’

Hide player, show the animation, and transfer player to the sleeping bedroom

In the sleeping bedroom, set an even that is ‘Autorun’ and make it so that a timer is set for 3 seconds and transfers player to the dreamworld when it counts down

It should look like this:

Getting out of bed:

Create an event on the floor next to the Go to bed event, make its trigger ‘Autorun’, its priority ‘below characters’, and its switch ‘sleep’ (or whatever you called the switch that tells the difference between real-life and dreams)

set it so that it makes the mc transparent (if not already done so)

Set it so it shows the get out of bed animation

Show your mc

Turn off the Sleep Switch

Erase event (It doesn't actually erase the event but idk what it does)

This is what it should look like:

You should then have a working going to bed and waking up event!

This was messily written and probably not optimized to the fullest extent but hopefully it is understandable.

#yume nikki #yume nikki fangame #ynfg #gamedev #game design #rpg maker 2003 #rpg maker #rm2k3 #game development #tutorial #ynfg tutorial #rpg maker 2003 tutorial #i have no clue #idk anything #anyways yolo #indie dev #indiegamedev #indie game

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personasintro · 4 years

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games n' sex | ksj drabble

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀; game date sounds perfect, until it slowly turns into something more and you and your boyfriend are ready to take another step in your relationship

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: fluff, smut

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: strong language, protected sex, virgin!jin, virgin!reader, nerd!jin, they're both kinda nerds, fingering, first time sex, jin has a huge dick (can't believe I just wrote that)

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.6k

a/n: commissioned by the amazing @hyacinthgrrls! this was supposed to be 3k but it ended up being longer😳 thank you for your patience!!

𝗺.𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | ☕️

“So, tell me again, why are you wearing those glasses?”

Your boyfriend asks without even looking at you, eyes too focused on the screen that’s in front of him as he clicks the computer mouse repeatedly.

“I look like a nerd with them,” you answer, snorting when you see him from the corner of your eyes giving you a side glance. “And I look smart in them.” you add to clarify, glancing back at the screen of your own laptop.

You’ve been dating together for six months, but doing nothing and playing games is still one of the best dates. You’re able to enjoy yourselves, get frustrated together and then laugh it off. Someone would call the two of you nerds, which you probably are, but not that you or Seokjin care.

“You’re a nerd,” he points out, screaming out of pain when you repeatedly smack his arm. “No, no, no! I lost! Why would you hit me?” he whines frustredly, a satisfied smirk appearing on your lips as you see a big ‘game over’ on his screen.

“You called me nerd.” you tell him, raising a brow as he innocently shrugs his broad shoulders.

“You could’ve just wait until the round is over.” he mumbles, causing you to glare at him but even if he noticed it, he ignores you and starts another round.

That little shit. He’s teasing you, he knows how much it annoys you when he ignores you. The little twitch of his mouth says it all and you groan, clicking your mouse furiously.

“This is such a bullshit, I don’t know how to play this. We should’ve played The Sims or GTA, not whatever this is called.” you roll your eyes when white big letters ‘game over’ appears on your screen as well.

“First of all, The Sims and GTA are lame. And Fortnite isn’t lame, it’s one of the best games on the market right now. How can you be so disrespectful?” he scolds you, causing you to sigh in annoyance.

“You didn’t think of The Sims as lame when you were literally competing with me who will build a better house. It seemed like you enjoyed it more than I did.” you point out, remembering when you were playing the mentioned game just a few weeks ago.

“I wasn’t competing!” he exclaims, his neck getting red which causes you to raise your brow in obvious disbelief.

There are three reasons when his neck gets red. When he’s got too much attention, gets frustrated or when he’s lying. It’s obviously the third option and it’s quite amusing to see he’s still trying to stand up for himself, when the two of you know you’re right. It’s always funny whenever he gets worked up over something so silly.

“You even danced when you claimed that your house looks better!” you exclaim, laughing when he stutters over his words but doesn’t have anything to say back, so he shakes like a scared dog before he lets out a sigh of defeat. “See, I was right.” you still mutter, ignoring the glare he gives you this time.

He turns back, his attention focus on another round which makes you whine and shut your laptop. “This game is no fun.”

“You’re saying that because you don’t know how to play it,” he points out, making your eyes roll even though you know he’s right. “Come here, I’ll show you.” he says, patting his lap as he slowly pulls away with a desk chair to give you a better space.

“Fine, but if I’m not good at it we’re gonna play something else.” you grumble, standing up to sit down onto his lap which is surprisingly even more comfortable than the desk chair you’ve been sitting on for forty minutes.

Of course, it is more comfortable. This is your extremely handsome boyfriend we’re talking about, every chance you get to be closer to him is exciting. Even if it’s him showing you how to play one of his favorite games.

When you finally find the right position on his lap, Jin pulls the chair closer to his desk so the two of you can see the screen clearer. Jin sets a new game, a set of characters filling up the screen as he clicks on a random character.

“Why would you choose her? I want Thor.” you point towards the character that symbolizes one of the Avengers.

“Why him?” he asks, tone laced with curiosity as he clicks on him and chooses him for the game instead.

“He’s hot.” you shrug, causing your boyfriend to snort at your honesty and answer.

“Because he’s hot? You know he’s just a character, right?” he snickers, straightening himself as if he’s the one playing this round.

You know he’ll enjoy giving you tips and explaining this game to you. He loves to do that even when you can play a certain game just fine, without his constant tips and advices.

“I didn’t mean him as a character in this game. I meant Chris Hemsworth, obviously.” you roll your eyes, causing him to snort.

“Since when do you like Chris Hemsworth?” You can’t see him, with you being turned with your back to him, but you can hear the frown on his lips clearly.

“I don’t,” you shrug, “I just love him as Thor. Have you seen him with his hammer showing off those strong arms and when he creates storm with all the lights—“

“Okay, okay. I really don’t wanna hear my girlfriend gushing over some guy who plays a fictional character,” he mutters behind you.

You giggle, ready to tease him about him being jealous and it’s absurd how this topic got into your conversation in the first place, but just as you’re opening your mouth your boyfriend shushes you.

“Now pay attention, the game is starting.” he says, eyes already swallowing the whole screen as he starts giving you instructions.

Ten minutes later of Jin's constant talking, mixed with whining and yelling whenever you lose, you’re the one who whines. You were just getting a hang of it and then your character got killed, and you don’t even know how that happened. Jin’s frustration is the only thing that keeps you entertained, you just love how worked up he gets over a game. After another ten minutes, you’re finally able to play the game without any kills of your character but even then, Jin doesn’t remit himself from his sudden orders and exclamation. When you finally kill a fair amount of enemies, you jump in delight and excitement completely oblivious to Jin’s grunt and hands on your hips.

“Princess, calm down.” he mutters behind you, only causing you to turn around and shift in his lap. Again, he glares at you looking through his thick eyelashes.

“What’s the matter? Did you see that? I’m practically a pro at this game!” you exclaim in excitement, doing a funny dance which causes him to curse underneath his breath.

“Jesus fuck, stop moving.” he pleads, causing you to stop as you frown.

Confusion laces your make-up free features, before you finally feel it. His covered bulge that’s hardening, poking you in the ass. When realization hits your face, you gasp loudly as you stare at your boyfriend with open mouth. He blushes, avoiding your gaze as he tries to play it off with a cough but that only makes you grin at him. You barely get to see him so shy and embarrassed, although there’s nothing embarrassing about this.

“Are you getting hard?” You don’t mean to tease him, not wanting him to feel embarrassed, but you can’t help it but to feel a sudden rush of excitement rushing through you. A different kind of excitement than you winning a round.

“Can we just ignore this happened? I’m freaking embarrassed.” he murmurs, leaning his forehead against your back so he hides his flushed face from you.

“Why? You don’t have to be embarrassed, Jinnie.” you tell him, hand reaching behind to stroke his thick black hair.

“I just got hard over you squirming in my lap, I think that’s a valid reason to be embarrassed.” he says, voice muffled by your back as you giggle.

“Why? I find it hot.” you shrug, causing him to snort in disbelief. He doesn’t believe you, you’re just trying to make this better and not to embarrass him.

And to prove your point, you squirm yourself again this time intentionally, making sure you aim at his hardening length that makes him wrap his arms around you.

“Y/N,” he warns you, trying to stop you but you only press even more making him gasp.

Even you can feel yourself getting aroused from the lack of friction, but just the thought and the littlest feeling of his dick rubbing against you drives you crazy.

“Don’t start something we won’t finish.” he tells you, groaning when you roll your hips against him.

Even the music from the game is completely ignored by the both of you. Thank god, you’re not calling and playing with Jungkook or Yoongi. If they heard the two of you, they wouldn’t let you live. They often tease you about your sex life, just because they’re two dorks who likes to embarrass you and Jin. And you’re usually the one who seems to be confident, opening your mouth to tell them something and turn the topic around, so they’re the ones who are left embarrassed. The truth is, you and Jin haven’t had sex yet. There’s no particular reason behind that, you just never talked about it openly and you thought he doesn’t want to have sex yet. You want it to happen naturally, you don’t need roses and everything planned like in those teen snappy movies. Your desires are often taken care of as Jin pleasing you with his mouth or fingers or you giving him a handjob or a blowjob. As much as Yoongi and Jungkook think the two of you probably play games rather than have sex, that’s not completely true. Yes, you do play games. A lot. But that doesn’t mean you and your body isn’t screaming for Jin. You’re patient and there was never a reason to bring that specific topic, not when you satisfied yourselves just fine without him actually sticking his dick into you. Maybe it’s taking longer because you’re both virgins. Even you giving him a handjob and blowjob used completely new to you. Just like him using his mouth and fingers. It took some time to learn each other’s bodies but you love how natural it all felt. Still does.

“We always finish,” you remark, “I want you.”

“Fuck,” he gasps, and you swear you feel his dick twitching inside his sweatpants. “You want my mouth or fingers?” he asks, letting you rub yourself against his lap as he latches his mouth onto the crook of your neck.

“You,” you gasp, throwing your head back at the feeling of his mouth and dick. “I want all of you.”

You realize what you’ve just said. Your juices already stain your underwear and just the thought of his dick inside you makes you squirm with much more neediness. You don’t even know where is this coming from. You were always okay just with him using his fingers or mouth, or both.

But it seems like you’re the only one who realizes your words.

“You’ve me, princess. You’ve got all of me.” he says against your skin, leaving sloppy kisses down your neck as you circle your hips.

“No, Jin. I wanna have sex with you. Now, like right now.” you tell him, his mouth stopping as he freezes underneath you.

You almost fear you crossed a line or something, and you even stop your movements as you just quickly sit down onto his lap while biting your lower lip.

He shakes out of his shock and shoots a set of questions at you.

“What? All of a sudden? Are you sure?”

Giggling, you take his hands into yours as you play with them. All while still turned with your back to him. “Yes, I don’t wanna wait any longer. If that’s okay with you, of course. I love you, and I know you’re the one for me.”

“If I’m okay with it? Princess, you’ll be the one who gets to be stuffed with a dick. Not me.” he says, causing you to snort.

“Jeez, thanks. You made this better.” you tell him ironically, causing him to sigh as he lifts up your hips and turns you to the side, so he can see at least side of your face.

“No, what I mean is... that this is something you’ve to think about. You’ve to be sure because once it happens, once I’ll take it, there’s no going back.” he tells you, gently tucking his fingers under your chin before he turns your head to face him.

His eyes sparkle with generosity and love, just affirming you that he really is the one.

“You’re acting like you’ve had sex before. You’re a virgin too.” you snicker, pointing out quite obvious fact only two of you know.

“Yeah, well, guys don’t care about their virginity that much. It’s not as important to them like to some girls.” he shrugs, explaining himself.

“Them? Are you saying that it’s important to you?” you question him, seeing him giving you a slight smile.

“It’s important to me that it’s with someone I love. That’s why I waited so long and haven’t sticked my dick to the first girl who offered.” he tells you.

“Can you not like, talk about other girls and how much of them wanted you?” you snort, seeing him giving you a cocky smirk.

Having a handsome boyfriend is a crazy ride. Plus, if that boyfriend is prettier than you. For fucks sake, even men in the shopping center are checking him out.

“It’s not my fault I’m so desired,” he jokes, but stops when he sees you glaring at him. “No, but really. It’s not as important to me as it might be to you, but like I said, I want to have sex with someone I love. And you’re that one for me, I’ve known a long time ago that I wanna lost it with you. I just wanna make sure you really want this.”

“Of course, I want this,” you cup his face into your small hands and caress his cheeks with your thumbs. “I don’t need this to be romantic and all that shit. All I want is you and I feel like right now is the right time.”

“Aren’t you saying that just because you’re wet?”

“Oh my god, Seokjin. No, I’m not.” you roll your eyes, voice raising to prove your point.

“You’re not what exactly? Wet or saying this because you’re wet?” he asks, pointing with his fingers to mimic the two different things.

Letting out a loud whine, you hear him laugh as his whole body shakes. “I’m not saying this because I’m wet. Plus, I think I’m no longer wet after this conversation.” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest as you look away from your boyfriend who seems to have that one specific shit eating grin.

“Oh, come on. Don’t get mad at me now,” he fakes a pout, nudging your shoulder with his forehead before he gives it a soft peck. “I just really want to know if you’re hundred percent sure. That’s all that matters to me.”

Looking at him, you’re met with the same soft and loving eyes you fell in love with, and you can’t help but kiss him. He’s surprised by your sudden reaction, but grabs your face for a better angle as he starts moving his lips. Your tongues dance together, feeling one another before he gently bites onto your lip although, he does it too harshly and you gasp.

“Ow, fuck, Jin!” you scold him, holding your lip as you feel a metal flavor in your mouth. “Why would you do that?” you exclaim, looking at your wide-eyed boyfriend.

“I’m sorry!” he apologizes quickly, “I was trying to do that thing they do in a movies, I didn’t think I’d bite that hard.” he reasons, softly tugging your hand away as he eyes your little wound.

There’s just tiny blood, nothing major but he still stares at it with saddened gaze. You can’t holding, bursting in laughter which causes him to look up at you confusingly.

“We’re such a losers.” you tell him, still laughing.

He sighs in relief, shaking his head before a tiny smile plays on his lips. “I’m sorry.” he apologizes again.

Waving him off, you let him know it’s okay and you’re nowhere near finished with him. Turning around, you sit onto his lap rather clumsily, but Jin’s strong arms are there to hold before you’re finally seated and facing him. Nudging his tone with your own, you kiss him again. This time, he controls himself and doesn’t try to bite off your lip. He’s more careful, even though he groans into your mouth with neediness. Rolling your hips into his, you go back to your previous movements that lights up the fire through your veins. It feels good, so good that you feel your panties sticking to your heat and desperate for more touch. Understandably, it’s not enough even though it feels nice. But nice is not enough.

Detaching your lips, Jin flickers his eyes open in a silent question of you pulling away. Licking your lips that taste like him, you look at him through your hooded eyes almost pleadingly.

“I need you, Jin. Take me to your bedroom.”

He nods, understanding the frustration and need behind your words. He feels the same and that’s why he doesn’t hesitate when he tightens his hold on you and stands up. Automatically, you wrap your legs around his frame and silence your squeal by pressing your face into his shoulder. Just as you’re about to compliment his strong arms, and how stronger he’s became ever since he started working out with Jungkook, you’re not able to voice out your thoughts when Jin stumbles onto something and almost sends the both of you onto the floor.

“Jin!” you yell, holding him for dear life as he curses and stumbles some more before he finds a balance.

“Fucking slippers. I told you not to leave them in the middle of the room.” he scolds you, causing you to gasp.

“So, you’re blaming me because you’re clumsy?” you ask him, a frown settling on your face as he tries to open the door to his room.

Luckily, he manages to do that successfully without no injury or danger. He walks you towards his bed, softly pulling you down although he still glares at you. “I’m not clumsy, you’re just too messy.” he blames you, causing you to gasp in disbelief.

“I am messy?” you exclaim, finger digging into your chest as you stare at your boyfriend who starts to chuckle before he hovers over you.

He connects your lips in a soft kiss, silencing you with those plump lips that you can never resist.

“Uhm, you’re. But I love you and your messiness.”

You should be offended he thinks of you as a messy person, which you’re not. Okay, maybe you leave things a certain way and forget to put them back to its place, but it’s nothing too dramatic. You know he’s just teasing you and doesn’t take it too seriously.

He’s kissing you, exploring your mouth like it’s the first time you’re kissing, savoring every moment while his hands travel down your body before you urge him to take off your clothes. You don’t have to voice it, Jin understands you perfectly when you lift your hips up and squirm in your place. He smirks against your kiss, loving how needy you are even though his heart is beating so fast against his rib cage that he fears you can feel it too. He can’t believe today is the day he can make love to you.

He’s taking off your sweatshirt first, catching your earring onto the fabric that causes you to cry out as he’s trying to fix it in a panic. Repeatedly, honest but hectic, words of apology leaves his mouth until he finally manages to take it off without ripping your sweatshirt or causing you any harm. He takes off your glasses that have no real meaning, tossing it onto the mattress beside you but they bounce, falling down the floor.

“Jin, those were expensive!” you scold him, trying to see if they’re in one piece but your boyfriend kindly nudges you to your shoulder.

“No, they weren’t. Aren’t they from Bershka?” he shrugs, kissing down your neck.

You’re trying really hard to think, to talk back at him but it’s almost impossible at the feeling of those damn soft and tender lips.

“Fifteen thousand won is still expensive.” you try to argue, knowing how shitty your argument is. They weren’t that expensive, but they’re pretty and it’d be a shame if they broke because of Jin being careless.

“No, it’s not. If they’re broken, which they aren’t, I’ll buy you a new ones.” he tells you simply, causing you to snort at how easy he throws this argument out of window.

“I bought them last year, they don’t have them anymore.” you grumble back, causing him to groan as he’s working on your sweatpants trying to undo your knot.

“Oh my god, woman. Are you gonna argue me this whole time?” he asks in disbelief, eyes flickering to yours before he lets out a chuckle when he sees your smirk.

“Maybe.” you shrug sassily, however he decides to ignore your teasing and yells in triumph when he finally undo the knot.

Taking off your clothes doesn’t take too long, this time with no harm on your part or your clothes, although he still tosses them onto the floor carelessly. You don’t even comment it anymore, knowing it’s pointless and it’d just evoke another round of bickering. You finally understand what Yoongi meant when he said the two of you are fighting like an old married couple.

Jin has seen you naked couple of times, but you squirm underneath his darkened gaze because knowing what you’re about to do feels much more intimate than ever. He notices your tinted red cheeks and your eyes drifting elsewhere, avoiding him. He catches your attention by reaching for your face, caressing your hot cheek as he smiles.

“You’re so beautiful.” he says softly, your cheeks flaming even more.

It’s nothing new, Jin makes sure to tell you how much beautiful you are almost every day. But it still brings shots of joy and shyness through your body like it’s the first time he has ever said such thing. Most of the time he tells you you’re beautiful in the most inconvenient time. Like that time when you were sick and he surprised you with a warm soup, seeing you with a greesy hair and red nose while snot kept running down your nose.

“Go away, I look ugly.” you told him that time, covering your face with a thick blanket.

But he just laughed you off, shaking his head before he slowly put down the blanket and exposed your sweaty face. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

He told you and even though you didn’t believe him, considering how awful you looked back then, the honesty that was in his eyes is the same one he holds right now.

His words of love and honesty sends relief rushing through your body and you allow yourself relax, not wanting to feel any discomfort that he’s seeing you naked. Jin’s fingers travel down your neck, slowly touching your chest before he moves down your stomach. Every move he makes, his eyes flicker to yours as if he’s checking your reaction, and it warms your heart. Biting onto your lower lip, you take a deep breath when his fingers hover over your heat.

“Open up for me, princess.” he whispers, not budging as he waits for you to react. He gives you space to back out, this is different than all the times you were intimate together, so he’s extra careful with each move he makes.

However you don’t need him to be extra careful, of course you appreciate it, but you’re hundred percent sure of this. That’s why you spread your legs and allow his eyes to see your glistening core. His breath catches in his throat and he almost starts to choke but he plays it cool, gulping furiously with widened eyes. It makes you giggle, finding his reaction natural and amusing. Also, it strokes your ego quite a lot knowing the sight of your heat makes him react this way.

Spreading your folds, he starts rubbing your wet pussy while biting onto his lower lip. Moaning, you spread your legs even more to give him more space especially when he starts kissing your thighs. He drinks you in, looking up at you through his hooded eyes and thick eyelashes, all while peppering your exposed skin with soft kisses and fingers spreading your wetness. He sinks his finger in, cursing when he feels your walls clenching around his single digit. Circling onto your clit with his thumb, he leans down before he latches those plump lips replacing his thumb. Arching your back from the mattress, you gasp when he starts making out with your clit, while still pumping his finger. Your juices leak out of you, embarrassingly almost too much, but you don’t seem to care. Your attention is solely on your boyfriend and how much he pleases you. He takes the opportunity to sink another finger in, penetrating your tight hole even more. It feels so fucking amazing and you plead him for more.

Your attentive boyfriend, whose goal is to make you feel good, listens to you and adds another finger. This time, you feel the stretch even more and you moan loudly when he curls all three fingers inside you. He rubs your velvety walls, picking up the pace until your legs are shaking and he recognizes as a sign of approaching orgasm. Ten more pumps of his long fingers, the knot in your stomach loosen up and you’re letting go, finally cumming around his fingers that rides you through your orgasm.

He takes that time, and the fact your cum is stripping down his fingers and your heat, he adds another finger. You gasp, his name leaving your mouth at the sudden pressure.

“I know, princess. I just need to stretch you out some more.” he says, deciding to pull out when he sees your face scrunched in discomfort.

Flickering your eyes open, you look at your boyfriend who takes his glistening fingers from your cum into a mouth. He cleans them off, making sure he’s looking straight into your eyes as he does it. You gasp, slowly sitting up as you lean towards him and connect your lips. He yelps in surprise into your mouth, not expecting you to kiss him so suddenly but he welcomes it. The fact you’re kissing him despite where his mouth just was, and that you can taste yourself on his tongue, drives him insane as he groans into your mouth. Your hands travel down his chest, caressing him through his shirt when you slowly pull away.

“You’re wearing too much clothes,” you comment quietly, biting your lip when you see his smirk. “We need to change that.”

And you do. He helps you taking off his clothes, your eyes and hands too busy touching his broad shoulders that you’ve always admired. His movements are quick and he doesn’t show how horny he is to finally feel how it feels like being inside someone. No, it’s not like that at all. He takes off all of his clothes slowly, kissing you every now and then as you urge him to keep going. It’s almost like he’s waiting for you to stop him any second. Not because he wants to stop, but because he’s thoughtful enough to make sure you still want this. Warmth spreads all over your heart and when the last piece of clothing is taken off, which happens to be his boxers, you pull him closer and kiss him passionate and hard.

He’s surprised, but kisses you back with the same intensity. You can feel the love through your kiss, it’s magical. You’ve never felt about anyone this way, and it’s not just because he’s your boyfriend. But even when the two of you met, he was such a spectacular person that sparked a light of interest inside you.

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly, as soon as you pull away.

Shrugging, you smile at him. “I just love you so much.” you admit, his features softening even more as he pouts for some reason.

“I love you too, my princess.” he says, kissing you again before you’re laying down and spreading your legs.

Gulping, he looks at your heat before his eyes are back staring into yours. “Are you, really like, really sure about this?”

“You seem more nervous than me. I’m the one who is gonna be stuffed with your dick, after all.” you tease, hearing him groan causing you to shrug.

He’s the one who said it like that. You’re just repeating his own words.

“I’m serious about this, Y/N.” he tells you softly, but his voice still holds some kind of seriousness that makes him even hotter.

He’s so fucking hot, you can’t believe he’s your boyfriend. From his beautiful black hair that almost fall into his eyes that adds major points to his sexiness, to his naked form that shows how broad and muscular he is. He’s no bodybuilder, but you can see his fit stomach and biceps that are definitely proof of his hard work of working out. And his intelligence and the dork side of him, just adds to his sexiness. It’s an interesting combination but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“If you really ask me that one more time, I swear— yes, Jinnie, I’m sure about this.” you sigh, appreciating that he’s so thoughtful and constantly checking up with you.

As much as you appreciate what he’s doing, you’re too horny and you want to feel him. There some kind of nervousness because well, you’ve never experienced what you’re about to do. But you’re rather excited and giddy, wanting to take this next step, both in your life and relationship. It feels right.

“Okay.” Is all he says, adding a special softness into his tone as he pulls away and gives you a perfect sight of his hardened length.

Gulping, you almost forgot how long and thick he is. It definitely sends a wave of arousal and nervousness at the same time to your body. Luckily, Jin doesn’t notice your widened eyes and the way you dryly gulp as he reaches for the nightstand beside your head. If he noticed, he’d surely ask you the same question he’s already asked too many times.

When he shuts the drawer with a loud thud, louder than you both expected causing you to flinch, he sheepishly grins and apologizes but you just shake it off with a quick wave of your hand. Your attention is back onto his hardened cock that slaps against his stomach, while your boyfriend’s hands are too busy opening up the condom wrapper. Slowly sitting up, his eyes flicker to yours but are back to the silver wrapper completely oblivious about your next step. As soon as you wrap your small hand that barely hugs his length, he gasps and jerks forward in surprise.

“Come on, keep going. Open it.” you urge him, slowly squeezing him as he gulps and nods.

However, he seems to grow even more frustrated when he can’t open it even with using his teeth causing you to laugh.

“What the hell? I can’t open this.” he complains, cheeks red and evident frown decorating his face.

Hiding a snort, you take the condom from your frustrated boyfriend’s hands, opening it up with ease. Arching a brow at him, you smile when he shyly coughs and tries to hide the same red tint that his cheeks have. Although, before you can tease him a little bit over the fact he really has condoms in his nightstand, since you really haven’t planned this, you notice something different.

“Extra large?” you ask, studying the wrapper with widened eyes as they turn into a mere smirk. Looking up at your boyfriend, you don’t see the look that you expect him to have.

You expect him to be cocky, confident because despite of his nerd and dorky personality, this man can really find his confidence in the most bizarre situations which makes you love him even more. Guys are usually confident about their dick size.

Aren’t they having some comparison competition of their dicks size?

But not your boyfriend. His cheeks seem to get even more red while he innocently shrugs.

“Ah, it’s... nothing.” he murmurs, causing you to chuckle.

“It’s nothing? You’re gonna rip me in half.” you exclaim, giggling when you see the terror in his deep brown eyes.

“No! I wouldn’t— we don’t have to continue.” he sulks back, trying to hide his aching length with hands over it but he’s doing a poor job at it.

“No, no. That’s not what I meant,” you assure him, cursing yourself for teasing him. It’s not the right time to do that. “I was just joking,”

Kinda. There really is a chance he’s not going to fit.

“Come on, Jin. I’ll be fine, I’m waiting for you.” you tease, waving him with a condom before you hand it to him.

Slowly, he takes it and gulps when you lay back and spread your legs for him. You watch him clumsily putting it on before he’s checking if he’s done it properly. He’s so cute, yet sexy when his muscles flex with each movement.

When he’s pleased with himself, he hovers over you and kisses you slowly. You melt into the kiss, nothing else on your mind than your boyfriend’s lips and him as the person you love the most. Gasping into his mouth, you’re surprised when you feel his hand over your heat before he dips his three fingers in and scissors them while he’s trying to do the best to penetrate your hole again.

“I know, I know,” he murmurs against your lips, but doesn’t pull away entirely. “I gotta do this.” he says, pumping them all over again.

This time, he’s trying to penetrate you even more than the first time and it takes two minutes until you’re falling apart again and having the second orgasm of the day. You’re more than aware that you probably won’t have any orgasm during the actual sex. Your cum leaks down Jin’s fingers as he pulls them out but doesn’t put them in a mouth this time. Through hooded eyes, you watch him smearing your cum all over his length that’s securely wrapped in a condom that glistens from your juices. Your pulsating heat clenches around nothing, finding this extremely hot and exciting.

When he hovers over you again, you know it’s time. His hands on both sides of your head and eyes locked into yours, he licks his plump lips as he opens his mouth. “You ready?”

You nod, stuttering over your words knowing he wants to hear you say it, rather than give him a nonverbal answer. “Yes, ready.”

Jin takes a deep breath, which comes out shaky before he wraps his hand around his length. Giving himself a few pumps, your cum a perfect lubricant to make the act easier, before he’s ready to enter you. However, he doesn’t expect you to jerk and yelp so loudly that he backs away immediately with a terrified look.

“What’s-what’s wrong?” he asks right away, staring at your closed eyes and red cheeks.

“That was my... other hole,” you scold him, “you were about to...”

You don’t need to finish for him to understand what he’s done and what you mean before his own cheeks are back to red color. Along his neck that shows his embarrassment even more.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I thought— I’m such an idiot.” he sulks, almost ready to cry as you chuckle at the situation and reach for him.

“No, just be careful.”

His head snaps up, eyes staring at you. “You wanna keep going?”

He sounds genuinely surprised. Poor guy, he probably thought you don’t want his dick anywhere near you. Not after he almost entered into a wrong hole, the whole situation is ridiculously funny despite of your heart hammering in your neck from the fact it could all go wrong.

“Of course,” you assure him, hiding a smile that he still notices. “Just be careful, make sure you... y’know...”

Oh, fuck. Since when do you get this awkward?

“Ah, yeah, of course.” Jin nods before he hovers over you all again.

This time, his eyes stay attached to his length while he makes sure he enters you well.

The first second of his tip poking your clit makes you shiver, your whole body ready to take him while you can’t believe you’re about to lose your virginity. And the fact it’s with someone you love deeply, it makes it all even more special.

When you feel him against your heat, ready to push in, you hold your breath while you’re trying to keep yourself relaxed.

“Oh fuck,” you curse, already feeling him stretching you even though he’s not even in.

He eyes you carefully, moving when you give him a short nod to let him keep going. With each gasp and inch he pushes in, he really makes sure he can continue as he starts filling you in. Tears prickle in your eyes, the stretch seems almost too unbearable while you feel like you’re being ripped in half. When Jin tells you that he’s not even halfway in, you almost cry out loud but you’re doing your best trying to control your reactions. You know as soon Jin would see you struggle to take him too much, he’ll back out immediately. His hand goes back between your legs, shaky fingers circling your clit as he’s trying to make this more bearable for you. It helps, not too much but it’s definitely better since there’s at least some kind of friction. As soon as he’s all way in, and he doesn’t fail to inform you about that, you finally let out long and shaky breath that you were holding. The feeling is so weird, not comfortable at all, but bearable even though you feel like he’s poking your stomach. You look down, eyes widening when you see an evident bulge of your stomach that’s Jin’s dick. He looks down, cursing at the sight as he goes to kiss you.

“You’re doing so good, princess.” he praises you, letting you adjust to him while he whispers praises all kind to your ear.

This is it. You’re not a virgin anymore.

You don’t feel any triumphant feeling because of it, although there’s so much love inside your heart knowing you’ve taken this huge step with your loving boyfriend.

When your arms and legs are wrapped around his much bigger body than your is, you tap his back telling him to move. He looks skeptical but nods as he starts pulling out. You cringe at the feeling, breathing through it before he slowly enters you again. He repeats this, making the feeling and tension better even though you can’t feel any pleasure yet.

It’s an instinct, his body telling him to go faster and harder on you, but he’s controlling himself so much. All because of you. He doesn’t want to hurt you and even though, he knows you’re not enjoying this as much as he is, he’s trying to do his best to make this memorable for you.

He doesn’t know that it already is pretty memorable for you.

When you start to feel the slightest pinch of pleasure, you let out a soft gasp mixed with a moan that Jin recognizes right away, he lets himself relax more and does what his body tells him to. He starts thrusting into you with more swift and steady thrusts, which after a few seconds turn into faster and needy ones. Face burrowed into the mattress that’s right underneath and beside your neck, he’s grunting and falling apart with each second. Caressing his back, you coax him and tell him how amazing he is, how much you love him.

“I love you s—“

“A-aaaahhh,” he cuts you off with a low and loud moan, his body stopping all of a sudden as his hips jerk before his heavy body crushes you.

He fills up the condom, chest heaving with harsh and fast breaths like he just ran a marathon.

Did he just cum?

You let your boyfriend stay like that until he fully recovers from his orgasm, still recovering yourself over the fact it took him three minutes to cum. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, especially after he just discovered why everyone praises sex so much. He understands now.

Pulling out of you, he lifts himself up as he sits onto his knees and stares at you with flushed cheeks and shy gaze. “I’m sorry.”

You frown in confusion, slowly sitting up as well, ignoring the ache between your legs and emptiness that Jin has left there. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I-I thought I’d last longer, you didn’t even cum.” he murmurs embarrassingly, sliding off the condom with a cringe while he tosses it into bin that’s in the corner of his bedroom.

He avoids your eyes, slowly sitting back into his previous spot as he wishes he could just bury himself.

“It’s okay,” you tell him softly, reaching for his hand thag you caress gently. “I came twice. Please, don’t worry about it.”

“But you didn’t even enjoy it!” he exclaims, suddenly growing frustrated why you’re so fine with this.

He’s so fucking embarrassed and the look in your eyes screams pity.

“How do you know that? I enjoyed that, Jin, trust me. Maybe I didn’t cum or was screaming out of pleasure, but this was the first time we were doing this. The feeling was so foreign but I know it’ll get better next time, and then better and better, until we can’t get enough of it.” you tell him, coming closer to him as you bump your foreheads before you kiss him.

He doesn’t object, letting you kiss him while he kisses you back before you pull back and he sighs.

“Are you sure?” he mumbles softly.

“Of course,” you nod, “Three minutes aren’t that bad. I thought you’d last less to be honest.” you comment causing him to glare at you.

“Y/N!” he exclaims in embarrassment, trying to hide his face but you don’t allow him to, gripping his hands tightly in your smaller ones.

“I’m joking, I’m joking!” you laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe we’re not virgins anymore.”

For some reason, Jin smiles and stares at you. As you’re about to ask him while he’s staring at you, he beats you to it and his soft voice resounds in the room.

“Me too, and I can’t believe we hadn’t planned it as well. It just happened and I can’t believe it did. I love you.” he confesses.

“Aw, come here, I love you too.” you gush, reaching for another kiss which he gladly gives you.

“But I still can’t get over the smell of sex.” he scrunches his nose as he starts sniffling which makes you snort.

“Well get used to it,” you pat his shoulder, standing up.

You don’t care that you can feel his eyes on your naked ass, silently admiring your body you used to be insecure about. Turning around, he tries to masks the fact he really stared at your ass but fails miserably as usual.

“We’re not gonna play Fornite or other games that much anymore.” you smirk, crouching down to pick up your glasses that for Jin’s sake, are untouched with no damage done.

“No games?” he asks with open mouth and doe eyes, causing you to snort.

“Who’s the nerd now?”

“I’m not nerd!” he says, standing up as he helps you to pick up your clothes.

“Whatever you say,” you mumble, teasing him which you do successfully when you see him pouting from the corner of your eyes. “But I could really play another round of fornite after we take a shower.” you suggest, his eyes lightening all of a sudden as he nods.

“Yeah, let’s go!” he calls out in a complete excitement as he rushes to the bathroom that makes you snicker.

“Nerd,” you mumble, not expecting him to hear you.

“I heard you!” he yells, obviously hearing you.

A soft smile plays on your lips as you put your glasses on top of his desk, following your boyfriend to the bathroom.

The whole day is spent with you two playing games, ignoring messages from your friends before you go for a round two.

But it’s not Fornite or any game that Jin can gush about.

Because you happen to be the only thing he loves to gush about, and his determination to make you feel good and understand how making love really feels, is his next task that you happily obey.

#networkbangtan #bts smut #bts fluff #bts au #seokjin smut #jin smut #jin scenario #seokjin scenario #kim seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #bts scenario #kpop fanfic #kpop au #personasintro

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 1. Back Into The Field

Intro: Picking up a few months on from the events of Stark Spangled Man, Katie finds herself on desk bound duty following a disciplinary for ignoring Fury’s orders. But when she’s finally released, and disaster strikes on the first mission she’s run in months, she kinda wishes she’d stayed there.

Warnings: Bad language, mentions of blood, injury, angst and a minor character death.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Katie Stark

A/N: So here we go. A relaunch of SSB thanks to my other blog being flagged. For those of you who are new, welcome! I hope you enjoy. And to all you current Stark Spangled Readers, welcome back, You might spot a few subtle differences as we go through, as things I’m not happy with have been rewritten but don’t worry, nothing will impact the mine lines in the hot mess that is Stark and Rogers.

As always, please leave your comments or send me messages, asks, anything. I love you all!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

March 2013.

Any doctor would cry if they visited SHIELD; the caffeine and alcohol intake of pretty much every worker there would way exceed a dose construed to be healthy. Mind you, if you asked any agent whether they’d give up coffee or alcohol, they’d say alcohol in a heartbeat.

Well, most of them.

Katie couldn’t imagine surviving without an ice cold beer on a hot summer’s day, but she also didn’t function until she had her morning cup of Joe. It was a tough choice to make.

Not today though, she needed coffee. And lots of it. After ‘going rogue’ to chase the Mandarin with her brother, month’s later Fury was still pissed and as such was basically giving her the most boring thing he could think of- working through piles of mission reports to analyse and cross reference with others to pick up on common threads .To be honest, she didn’t mind it too much. After the excitement of the festive period she had welcomed a relatively quiet return to work, and didn’t particularly give a shit what Fury thought about her either.

She circling a part of the hard copy of the report she was working on with highlighter pen, before glancing back at her computer screen to cut and paste it into the Scrapbook App she used to trace trends with, letting out a groan. Who was she kidding? Desk duty sucked ass.

*****

Steve’s morning wasn’t going much better.

Whilst he wasn’t desk bound, after a particularly gruelling Ops Training session during which one of the newest kids suffered a broken nose after colliding painfully with a stray shock baton, he was almost wishing he was. Following a quick debrief, he checked his schedule on his phone and found he was free now for the rest of the day so he showered and headed up to find Katie. He found her in her office, paper in her hand as she stared at her computer screen, eyes narrowed. Steve watched her for a moment, taking in the way her nose crinkled as she read something, her bottom lip being dragged under her top teeth as she continued her work, completely unaware he was there. With a groan she dropped the notes she’d been holding to the desk and ran her hand through her dark hair.

Steve felt he was interrupting something, even though he knew he wasn’t, but he also didn’t want to appear like he’d been watching her either, which he totally had. So he gave a little cough and, as she turned round, her pretty face cracking into a smile which he returned.

“Hey! How was training?”

“Don’t ask.” He let out a snort.

“That bad huh?”

“In a fashion.” He nodded, leaning on the door frame. “You had lunch?”

“Nope.”

“Wanna come get some?”

She nodded instantly “God yes. Can we get FroYo after?”

“Yeah but don’t let me pile it with all that crap this time!” he shot her his best playfully disapproving look as he remembered his first trip the Frozen Yoghurt stall. He had loaded his with all sorts of different things and the result had been beyond foul.

Katie gave a laugh and picked up her jacket, shrugging it on. Standing up straight, he moved to allow her to step through the door and followed her to the elevator.

“Stick to chocolate chip, mint and cookie dough.” She said, stepping into it. “Trust me.”

They strode across the foyer and into the early spring sun. Katie pulled her jacket tighter around herself as they crossed the street, shivering a little in the cool breeze.

“How are you just wearing a shirt?” she looked at Steve as he fell into step besides her, making sure he was on the side nearest the road. He noticed that she’d long since given up chiding him on this old fashioned habit after he had revealed it was something he used to do for his mom too, and Bucky’s younger sister. In fact, today, he swore he saw something that looked like a soft smile flicker on her lips when he positioned himself on her left, but as quick as he noticed it, it was gone.

“It’s not too bad.” He grinned. “I’ve been through worse.” He opened the door to the Deli for her and followed her in as they took their place in the queue. After a moment or two he became aware that she was looking at him.

“What?” he asked, turning to her exasperatedly. Katie couldn’t help but grin, she enjoyed winding the usually mild mannered man up

“I’m trying to imagine how you would look with a beard. And with shorter hair.” she mused, causing the Captain to roll his eyes.

“Not gonna happen.”

“What the hair cut or the beard?”

“Neither.”

“Spoil sport.”

“Captain America doesn’t have a beard.” he shook his head.

“No but, Steve Rogers could…”

She was impossible, but Steve couldn’t help but want to laugh. This playfulness was the thing that he enjoyed the most, how she could just treat him like any other punk she knew.

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re exhausting?” he rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his face as she stepped forward in the queue.

“Yeah, you.” she spun round to face him, grinning “Several times. But you still come back for more.”

“Well I have the distinct impression if I didn’t you’d hunt me down anyway”

They ordered and ate their lunch, Steve filling her in on the ops drill and after Fro-Yo they made arrangements to slob out that evening at his with a film. They walked back to the Triskellion where Katie headed back to her office to continue sifting through the Mount Everest of reports she had to do. As with anything, once she got the bit between her teeth, she completely zoned out. It was only when she heard a gabble of voices all bidding each other goodbye that she looked up from her work. It was dark outside, and past six.

“Shit.” she groaned as the realisation washed over her. She was supposed to be at Steve’s for half past. She clicked to save her work whilst calling him at the same time, phone sandwiched between her cheek and shoulder.

“So…I’m running late.” She apologised the instant he answered. He chuckled.

“I thought that you said the one good thing about being confined to desk duties was that you set the hours.”

“Yeah, well I got caught up in something, but I’m leaving now. Do you want me to grab pizza on the way?”

“Sounds good, not Chicago Style though. I’m hankering for a proper piece of pie.”

“God you’re such a New Yorker.” She rolled her eyes.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” His voice took on a mock hurt tone and she could imagine him pouting on the other end of the phone.

“Hmmm, I’m undecided. Right, I’m leaving now. See you soon.”

“Drive safe.”

“What are you my dad?” she snorted at his stern instruction.

“Old enough to be.” he shot back.

“Touche.” she sniggered, cutting the call

*******

“Boring New York style for Mr S Rogers…” she spoke into the intercom at the main door to Steve’s apartment complex and he buzzed her in. By the time she’d climbed the stairs to his floor he was waiting, leaning on the door frame.

“Bout time.” He muttered, taking the boxes off her “Was about to send a search party.”

“Mario’s was packed.” Katie said, kicking off her sneakers and heading straight through to his kitchen to grab a beer out of his fridge without waiting for him to offer, knowing he wouldn’t. He didn’t need to.

Steve headed into the living room, depositing the thee boxes on the coffee table before he sank onto the couch and reached straight in for one of the pepperoni slices. A few moments later Katie flopped down next to him, handing him a beer.

“What we ticking off the list tonight?” she asked.

“A Few Good Men.” he said, nodding at the TV where he had queued the movie up ready.

“Wait, did you manage to navigate that Android box all by yourself?” She looked at him and he sighed.

“I’m not completely useless ya know.”

“Jury’s out.” she teased, curling her legs up onto the sofa next to her.

They watched the movie. Steve got most of the references within it. He chuckled in the right places, and laughed out loud when Katie was unable to stop herself uttering the immortal line You can’t handle the truth. When the credits began to roll, Katie unfolded herself from where she had been sat and they launched into Steve’s favourite part of Movie Nights- the post film analysis.

“Who was the guy who played the colonel, Jessup?” he looked at her.

“Jack Nicholson. Amazing actor. He’s in a few on your list.”

“He was good. And I know he was supposed to be the good guy so to speak but Kaffee annoyed me a little. He was so arrogant.”

“He reminds me of Tony” Katie sniggered.

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything” Steve gave a little smirk and Katie shrugged.

“I get what you mean though. He is an ass, and it pisses me off a little the romance angle they take with him and Galloway. I mean, she’s portrayed as this strong woman, in the male dominated military woman and they still have to go there.”

“It does seem to be a tried and tested format.” Steve nodded, leaning back against the cushions on his couch “Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy wins girl over…even the movies I saw back in before I took a sub-zero nap were the same.”

“I suppose it appeals to the hopeless romantic in all of us.” Katie shrugged.

They continued to chat for a bit longer until Katie glanced at her watch, and seeing the time, decided to call it a night. Steve walked her down to her car, he always did without fail, another thing she had given up chiding him for and when he came back upstairs and got in the shower, he found himself straying back to the first time he had seen her, the minute she had stepped into the light in the boxing gym and he’d found himself looking into the greenest eyes he had ever seen in his life.

The more he stood there in the stream of hot water, thinking about her, the more he started to feel something…well…different. And he couldn’t put his finger on it. Was it that he found her attractive? Well of course he did. To be honest, he reckoned you’d have to be blind not to. And if he was totally honest, since he’d seen her the first time in that little boxing gym in New York he had noticed how pretty she was. She had the figure of the stars of his time. Hour glass waist, brunette hair, shapely ass and legs and quite large breasts considering she was so slim. But what did it for him were her eyes. Deep, sparkling emeralds that he could lose himself in quite happily. And that smile, that fucking smile that could make him stop in his tracks when she flashed it.

But it was more than just that, she was…well…just Katie.

It was strange, really, she reminded him so much of Peggy in some ways, but in others she was so different. Both were vivacious, smart, strong willed and beautiful. But where Peggy had been harsh, after a military upbringing, Katie had a softer edge to her. She was still ferocious at times, but she was a people person, and somehow knew exactly how to explain and understand what he was trying to say even when he struggled to himself. She made him feel at ease. With that in mind it wasn’t surprising they had grown so close. He could trust her and knew that she would do anything for him because she was a good person. And she made it so easy to be around, he didn’t feel a shred of awkwardness around her.

He hadn’t thought he’d ever find himself a friend he could be as honest and open with again, one he would happily lay his life on the line for, not just out of a sense of duty but out of a sense of love and friendship.

Who you trying to kid, Rogers?

He knew his feelings went deeper than that. All those times he’d felt irritation at other men looking at her or touching her, all those times he’d looked at her and just wanted to smile because she was just her… the fear he had felt when he had known she was off chasing the Mandarin and he wasn’t able to help…none of that was anything to do with mere friendship.

He leaned his forehead against the tiles of the shower cubicle and groaned. He was crushing on his best friend.

He was so fucked. *******

Katie’s desk arrest didn’t last much longer. Two weeks later she was catapulted back into the field, on what was supposed to be a simple op, simple by SHIELD standards, anyway. They had a request from the Cuban government – all very hush, hush, of course –to take down a drug lord who ran a cartel SHIELD had tangled with last year.

Katie, in her role as Mission Analyst, read the files and all the intel, pulled together a briefing and delivered it, answering questions that came her way from the team and then handed over to Steve when it was his turn to take the floor. He started issuing out his orders, and informed everyone that the three newest recruits would be joining them as it would be a fairly straight forward op to ease them into.

And it had been, for the most part, until one of those new recruits, Jack Adams, had frozen mid fire fight and as a consequence he’d taken three bullets to the chest. Which shouldn’t have been an issue given the armour they all wore. But when the man failed to get up, Katie knew there was something very, very wrong.

“Adams is down!” she loudly spoke into her radio as she took aim at the hostile responsible. As soon as she was sure the round she had let off had hit her target, she broke cover to get to Adams, as she was closest to him. She skidded to the floor, pressing her hand to his chest and her other reached to his face, turning it to look at her.

“I got you, Adams, look at me.” she urged gently, her hand warm, wet and slick with the young man’s blood. Steve dropped besides her and she turned to face him.

“Armour piercing rounds.” She shook her head. “Steve, I can’t stop the bleeding.” Her tone left the Captain in no doubt as to how worried she was and he looked around frantically for help.

“Medic, NOW! We need emergency evac…”

“Stay with us, Jack.” Katie reached into her belt and retrieved a tab of morphine as he young man’s hand gripped her other whilst she administered the pain relief.

“Son, you’re gonna be fine.” Steve spoke and Adams’ horrified eyes turned to Steve. The soldier swallowed, fighting to keep his face calm. He’d seen that expression so many times on the battle field, the one that told him the man who lay injured knew he was injured beyond repair, that there was nothing to be done for him. But this was now seventy years into the future, medical science had worked so many wonders since then, they had to be able to do something, right?

“RUMLOW WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT MEDIC?” Katie screamed, her tone frantic.

“Still got hostiles on us!” Rumlow replied over the coms. “Evans has taken four down but they’re approaching from the right! We need to cover the medics in and now you’re down there…”

Steve instantly looked round before he looked back at Katie “We’ll have to take him ourselves”

She bit her lip, looking at the young man, then up to Steve again. Everything in their training told them not to move casualties, but Steve knew if they stayed here he was going to bleed out. Katie seemed to come to the same conclusion and she nodded.

“Alright. Brock, we’re coming to you. Have the medics prep the bay on the jet.. Evans, we need top cover.”

“Roger, Cap…”

“Jack, we’re gonna move you now.” Katie looked at him, her voice calm and level as besides her, Steve moved to take the injured man into a lift over his shoulder. Once he had him positioned, he gave a small jerk of his head and Katie picked up his shield in one hand, and her pistol in the other as they broke cover, sprinting across the front of the industrial yard towards the jet. In the corner of his eye, Steve spotted two hostiles moving but before he could shout a warning, Katie had fired off two shots, the thumps and lack of returning fire meaning each bullet had hit its target. Soon they were joined by Rumlow and Rollins who flanked them up the ramp where Katie dropped Steve’s shield to the floor with a clang and offered her hand back to Adams as Steve placed him gently on the stretcher.

“It’s gonna be ok.” Katie soothed him as the medics bustled around, her eyes glancing up every so often to watch what they were doing.

“Can you tell my mom I love her and, and my dad.” Adams was mumbling now and Katie shook her head.

“You can tell them yourself.” She told him fiercely. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”

“We’re locked down outside, local authorities are handling it now.” Rumlow informed Steve who had stepped back from where Katie was knelt by the injured man. “How is he?”

Steve turned to Rumlow, shaking his head sadly. “Not good. He lost a lot of blood.”

At that point Katie suddenly drew back slightly, looking at the hand held in hers, before she glanced at the medic who was sadly shaking his head. Katie’s shoulders slumped as her eyes closed, face screwing up into a pained expression and Steve pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger as he realised that the young man had lost his final fight.

“Shit.” Rumlow muttered.

“Radio base” Steve turned to Rumlow his voice soft “Let’s get him home.”

*******

Writing mission reports wasn’t Katie’s favourite thing to do, but this one was awful. So she’d treated it like ripping off a band aid, and after a horrific night’s sleep, she’d been at the Triskelion early to get it done. As a result it was little after ten am, she was done for the day and was about to head home until she heard a familiar voice.

“Eat me…eat me…” The voice was accompanied by a bag from her favourite bakery, which was hovering in the space between the door to the office and the frame, before Clint Barton’s head poked round the side, a grin plastered on his face.

“Hey!” She beamed at her friend as he dropped a cup holder containing two coffees and the bag onto her desk before taking a seat, scooting the wheeled chair over the floor towards her.

“Heard you had a rough time of it yesterday so I brought donuts and almond croissants. And coffee.”

“Hawkeye, you are a godsend.” Katie smiled, taking a large drink and leaning back, closing her eyes.

“That the first time you’ve lost a man on a mission?” Clint asked.

“Other than Coulson.” she shrugged. “Shit, Adams was twenty-three Clint. He had his whole life ahead of him.”

Clint watched as she rubbed at her temple before reaching into the bag and pulling out an almond croissant. She couldn’t remember when she had last eaten, it must have at least been before the mission.

“How’s Cap taken it?”

“On the outside he seems okay, but I know he blames himself. Keeps saying he shouldn’t have taken him.” Katie shrugged “He’s gone with Fury to see Adams’ parents. Rather him than me.”

“This job is hard.” Clint said after a moment or two pause. “We fight to keep everyone safe, but y’know, sometimes not everyone makes it. Thing is, if we can’t find a way to deal with that, then maybe next time no one gets saved at all.”

“You mean like Collateral damage?” she snorted, shaking her head.

“No, I mean that everyone one of us that are out in the field know the risks Nova, hell last year 7 of us took on a horde of Aliens in New York. For hours we fought them, and did any of us give a second thought to our own safety? No, because that’s what we do.”

His words made sense. She knew they did, but that didn’t stop the feeling in her stomach that if she had done her research more, maybe she could have spotted something that would have told them about the armour piercing rounds.

*******

Adams’ parents already knew he was dead. Fury had the local authorities call ahead, common practice now, but still, Steve found himself sat on their couch, talking, informing them all about their son’s last moments. They hadn’t shouted, hadn’t screamed or blamed him. Instead, they’d thanked him for what he had done and for bringing him back so they could hold a proper burial.

By the time he got back to base, he was exhausted.

“Here.” Fury handed him a glass of scotch from the bottle he had pulled out of his desk. Steve took it, dropping onto one of the sofas at the side of the large office, Fury settling into the other. Steve knew the drink couldn’t get him drunk, but he liked the momentary buzz he got that lasted all of sixty seconds post sip, and the comforting burn it gave when he swallowed.

The pair of them sat in silence for a few moments before Fury sat forward, his eye fixed on Steve.

“Ever done that before, a death message?” he asked.

“Can’t say I have. Wasn’t really my job back in the day.” Steve shrugged, undoing his tie and popping the top button of his dress shirt.

“Worst part of the job. Doesn’t matter how many times you do it, never gets any easier.” Fury ran his hand over his face, and it struck Steve how tired his boss actually looked.

“Yeah, it isn’t exactly up there with my favourite thing to do.” Steve rolled his tie up and shoved it into the pocket of his old Army uniform pants.

“How’s Nova?” Fury asked.

“She’s upset.” Steve sighed “But she’s strong, she’ll be okay. I’m gonna head over and see how she is later.”

“You two spend a lot of time together outside of work.” Fury commented, innocently enough but there was something in his tone, something that was almost good natured accusation.

“Not a problem is it, Sir?” Steve asked, keeping his face straight.

“No, not at all.” Fury said “Why do you think I partnered you up in the first place? She’s a people person…”

“She’s a good friend.” Steve nodded “We get on.”

“Glad to hear it.” Fury nodded. There was another moment’s pause before he spoke again. “There’s going to be a debrief with the Secretary of Defense tomorrow.”

Steve sighed “If they’re looking to blame someone, the buck stops with me. I should never have taken the kid.”

“Bullshit.” Fury said simply “I’ve read the reports. From what they say, he just froze.”

“He wasn’t experienced enough.”

“Taking risks is part of this job. It’s a dangerous gig.” Fury held his gaze. “It was a straight forward in and out job Captain. What happened was an accident. A tragic one, but an accident none the less. From the reports, neither you nor Stark could have done any more to save his life.”

Steve shrugged, the words were kind but didn’t help him feel any better.

Three glasses of scotch later, Steve shook the director’s hand and left the office, pulling out his phone. He didn’t want to appear like he was checking up on Katie, so he pinged her a text, dressing it up like it was him who needed to see her, which wasn’t a complete lie. He did. He was craving the normality she gave him.

Can I come over? I could do with seeing a friendly face

He read it a few times, before deciding it was casual enough before he sent it. The reply was almost instantaneous.

My door is always open for you. And I made Mac and Cheese. Plenty left.

He couldn’t help but smile. One of the best things about this new life was the food, and her Mac and Cheese was frankly his favourite thing to eat on the planet.

He changed into a pair of sweats and a hoody, hastily making his way to Katie’s penthouse and the smile she gave him when he walked into her place instantly made him feel at ease.

“Hey.” she crossed the space towards him and gave him a hug which he happily melted into, a hug they both needed.

“How did it go?” she asked, pulling away.

“As well as can be expected.” He sighed as he followed her into the kitchen, dropping into the stool on the other side of the breakfast bar. “His mom broke down but they didn’t shout or yell.”

Katie flipped the lid off a beer and handed it to him. He took it, with a nod of thanks and pulled a large swig before he rest his hands on the counter, staring at the bottle.

He was brooding and blaming himself, Katie could tell, so she gently lay her hand on his, reaching over the counter.

“It wasn’t your fault Steve.” she spoke softly and he looked at her.

God, she did that all the time, knew what he was thinking. It gave him the unnerving impression that sometimes she could read his mind.

“I should have spotted that shooter.” he shook his head.

“I’m the fucking mission analyst.” she sighed. “I knew from last time those guys were packing, if I’d done more research, maybe I would have found out about the armour piercing rounds.”

“You can’t seriously blame yourself?” Steve’s frowned.

“Why not?” she shrugged sadly. She’d been over it a million times in her head that day and had come to the same conclusion every time. She should have spotted something, dug further. “I didn’t do my job.”

“Yes, you did.” he implored, his eyes locking onto hers “Your report clearly set out the layout, the learning from previous missions…Adams was just too inexperienced, I should never have taken him.”

There was a pause as the microwave pinged and Katie turned to look at it.

“You know, Clint made a good point before.” she reached in for the plate and the smell of the food made his stomach grumble again as she continued “This job, it’s hard. We fight to keep people safe but not everyone makes it back all the time…and if we can’t learn to live with that then maybe next time no one gets saved.”

“It feels like trading lives.” He took a deep breath as she placed the plate down in front of him “It’s just wrong.”

“I know.” She said, handing him some cutlery and sat down next to him.

“You eaten?” he asked, looking at her, suddenly aware she didn’t have a plate. She nodded.

“Couldn’t have waited until now, I’d have starved to death.” she said, shrugging.

“Hardly.” he replied, mouth full, instantly realising he had said the wrong thing as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Is that a fat joke?” she asked, making him roll his eyes as he swallowed. That hadn’t been it at all, he was referring to the fact that she never actually stopped eating, despite her tiny frame she gave him a run for his money.

“No, that’s not what I meant. You’re tiny.” he said, almost choking on his food through his protests.

“So now you’re making short jokes?” She shot back. Steve looked at her, dismayed she thought he was being mean to her but then he spotted the look in her eyes and rolled his own.

“Punk.”

“Jerk” she shot back.

It was the perfect way to escape the trauma and stress of the last few days. Once they had finished eating the two of them flopped down on her large L shape sofa, Steve’s legs extended along one side of the L shape, her legs tucked underneath her as she leaned against his shoulder. He couldn’t help but notice the smell of her shampoo…apple, he thought, along with her perfume. Her proximity was making his head buzz but he wasn’t about to move her, the contact was comforting. And it clearly was for her too as about an hour or so into the film- the first in the Lord of The Rings trilogy- he felt her head growing heavy. He glanced down and saw that her eyes were closed and, as he watched, her head slipped slightly. He shifted so that he could catch her gently, and grabbed a cushion from behind him, placing it against his leg. He manoeuvred her head so that she was lay down, gently brushing her hair off her face. She stirred slightly, snuggling down further into the cushion as he absentmindedly rubbed between her shoulder blades as her breathing grew gentle and even.

Steve stayed like that, engrossed in the film right to the end, surprisingly. He had enjoyed it. Katie hadn’t woken up, and he looked down debating whether or not to wake her or simply carry her through to her bedroom. In the end he decided to do neither, instead he reached for the remote as he sifted through to find something else to watch. He didn’t want to leave just yet, he was too comfy and too at ease. Picking one of his favourites, Casablanca, he settled down, getting himself comfy as he immersed himself in the familiar world of Rick’s Café Americain. At one point he felt his eyes growing heavy and he lay his head back, deciding to rest them for just a little while…

**** Katie was jolted awake, quite violently, and as she jerked into an upright position she saw exactly why. Steve was thrashing in his sleep, his face contorted in horror, small murmurs and whimpers slipping from his plump lips. She placed both her hands on his shoulder and shook him. Softly at first, then a bit stronger, trying to rouse him.

“Steve…” she gave him a harsher shake and his eyes flew open, wide in panic and she reached up to cup his face in her hands. “Hey, it’s okay. It was just a dream.”

Her soft voice filled Steve’s senses and, as he realised where he was and whose eyes were looking at him, he took a shaky breath and lay his head back.

Damned it, he’d fallen asleep and had a nightmare. On her sofa.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice croaky, “I err…”

“Don’t apologise, it’s fine.” Katie shook her head gently “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

Whilst she was gone he leaned forward, swinging his legs off the couch so his feet touched the floor, wiping his clammy head with his hands, the memory still flashing through his dream.

Cold air was blasting his hair back…there was a hole in the side of the train…then a flash of light and Bucky flew straight through the hole. “BUCKY…” he yelled, grabbing onto the side of the train, the bar in one hand as he stretched to reach his friend with the other.

“Steve…” The voice was louder, but not loud enough. No, he had to get to Bucky…

But he was gone, Steve was grasping at nothing but air.

Just a dream, Katie had said. It was anything but…

She appeared back in the room with a glass of water and he thanked her as she passed it to him. He took a large gulp, swallowing and was relieved when his breathing began returning to normal.

“You ok?” she asked, kindly as her hand gently knotted into his, her concern evident.

“Yeah, just a nightmare.” he nodded softly “I’ve not had one for a while.”

“Understandable with what’s happened. Wanna tell me what it was about?”

“It was Bucky.” he swallowed thickly “I was replaying the moment he fell. The moment he plummeted to his death from that Hydra train and I didn’t save him.”

Katie stayed silent for a moment before her hand curled round Steve’s shoulder and she pulled him to her, causing him to lay his head on her shoulder. “You know it wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have done more” The guilt ate Steve up every day, that he had survived. Why had he deserved that any more than Bucky?

“How?” she said again. “How could you have done anymore?”

"I should have gone after him.” he said quietly.

“What would’ve changed if you had?” Katie asked. “There’s no way he could have survived that fall.”

“He wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.“ He replied, "I should have gone after him, brought him home, done something.”

Katie remained quiet, her hand gently running through his hair which was nice, far too nice. He took a deep breath and sat up moving away from her touch.

"What time is it?”

“Nearly six in the morning” Katie glanced at her watch.

“You’re kidding?” Steve snorted.

“Nope. You want some coffee?” she stood up, stretching her arms above her head.

“Yeah if that’s ok.” he replied, following her to the kitchen. From her body language he could tell she was rolling her eyes, even if she wasn’t facing him.

“I don’t know if your Ma ever told you, but it’s rude to run out on a girl after you spend the night with her.”

“And as you know, I’m useless with women.” he sat down at the barstool on the breakfast bar. He watched her, but he didn’t say anything as she bustled about, throwing some bread in the toaster and then went to the fridge for the butter, marmalade and jam, sliding them onto the island. At that point Steve held his hands up.

“You don’t have to-” he started to say, but she silenced him with a glare, similar to the ones Peggy used to give him, the look that could stop him in his tracks it was that stern.

“Shut up.” she poured them both a cup of the coffee before adding milk and a spoon of sugar to each, passing one to him. The bread popped up from the toaster, and she put it on a plate before sliding it over to him and adding more bread to the machine.

His stomach rumbled and he gave in, smearing butter over his toast. He eyed the jam curiously. He’d had marmalade before but…

He looked at Katie and she nodded. “It’s good.”

So he added some, and after a bite he concluded she was right, and nodded in agreement. Once the next round of toast was done she sat next to him.

“So, when did I fall asleep.” she asked, swallowing her food.

“About an hour into the film.”

She shook her head “What an ass…”

“It wasn’t a problem.” He replied honestly as he took a bite of his breakfast. “To be honest I enjoyed it.”

“What, me drooling on your leg?”

He swallowed, his eyes wide “I meant the film.”

“I know.” she smirked.

***** Chapter 2

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #relaunch #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #katie stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character

143 notes · View notes

greenninjagal-blog · 3 years

Text

Trouble

Hi yeah its me, and look I’m already back with a new fic for the new year :D cherish this moment I don’t think i will have have this turn around so quick again. For the TSS Fanworks Secret Santa Exchange because I was a pinch hitter :DD @nerdywriterhaven I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Patton has a thing about boardgames and Virgil has a thing about Logan. Together they figure it out.

Word Count: 7900

Quick Taglist: @alias290 @chelsvans @coyboi300 @dante-reblogs @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @mrbubbajones @musical-nerd18 @nonasficcollection @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @themultishipperchild @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws @welovelogansanders

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

Patton shows up at Virgil’s dorm room just slightly after six pm on a Tuesday with two thermoses of soup that are still warm to the touch, a halloween tupperware of chocolate chip cookies that had been passed between him and Virgil so many times that Patton really doesn’t remember whose it was originally, his laptop, phone, the chargers for both, and the board game Trouble.

Virgil, predictably, shuts the door in his face the second he sees the game box hidden under all the other things in his arms. Patton also thinks that Virgil tells him to go away, but it’s muddled by the door.

Instead he shuffles all the supplies to his left arm and knee, and knocks again on his door just below the leftover tape from the nametag that his RA keeps putting up and Virgil keeps ripping down because he doesn’t want anyone knowing where he sleeps. His knuckles hum with the rap, datatata dat dat! And he smiles even when there’s the sound of something being thrown at the door from that side.

Patton chooses not to hear it because he’s a good friend and an even more stubborn houseguest.

The door a little bit down the hall opens up with the usual fanfare of someone who is running late to a night class-- which of course is the charm of Roman Prince. He looks nice, as usual, and Patton even thinks that if he hadn’t been wearing two different colored shoes, no one would even know that he had probably just woken up from a nap. The music of his room blares out into the hall with a rap song Patton thinks is Hip With the Kids these days, but Patton himself can’t make out any of the actual words.

All the much better because he’s pretty sure it’s Remus’s music and Remus likes his songs like he likes just about everything else: dirty, scandalous, and offensive. Not that Patton is good friends with either of the Prince siblings, but he’s heard the rumors floating around about both. Roman smiles at him, with glittering white teeth and dimples and soft warm brown eyes that could have been made of melted chocolate.

“Oh! What a spectre!” Roman says, seeming to forget that he’s on the way to a class at the sight of Patton standing at Virgil’s door. “Tell me, angel, what brings a glorious sight such as you to our dorm buildings on this amazing day?”

Virgil’s door swings back open before Patton can answer and Virgil hisses from the darkness, the way he’s usually prone to do whenever Roman or Remus or their blatant disregard for the rules about music volume at two AM is brought up.

He looks not much better from the glimpse Patton got before the door was closed in his face earlier: he’s still pale to the point of looking sickly and dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, with his eye shadow smeared and his hair not brushed at all. There’s a red imprint on the side of his face that Patton thinks matches a crease in his blankets or pillows from where he probably tried to suffocate himself on and off all day between anxiously texting Patton all about “the absolute worst day of my entire life and no I’m not even exaggerating this time Pat”.

“Hi Virgil!” Patton says, as Virgil reaches forward and to take a thermos and the tupperware from his arms and glare unbidenedly at Roman. “I brought dinner!”

“I hate you,” Virgil says, and does not mean because he loves Patton’s Broccoli Cheddar Cheer Up Soup and he’s been in need of cheering up since Patton had seen his messages at noon on his way to his second class of the day.

Roman gasps like he’s offended on behalf of Patton who is not offended as much as endeared to his best friend of several years. “Virgil! How could you act so callus towards a beautiful muse such as this?”

“Get lost, Princey,” Virgil tells him firmly, grumpily, Virgil-ly. “He came here specifically to make a pun about my pain.”

“I do it with love,” Patton adds. “And I brought cookies to make up for it.”

Roman looks like he doesn’t know what to do with that information and Virgil doesn’t give him time to find out because he kinda hates Roman-- although Patton always tells him that “hate” is a strong word and Virgil always says he means it anyway. Patton supposes that if he, too, had hallmates that played music louder than life up to the early hours of the mornings during Finals Week, and then cranked it higher when he knocked on the door to ask them to stop, he might also strongly dislike them.

Virgil ushers Patton into the dark room and then kicks the door closed while Patton is waving goodbye at Roman.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light level: Virgil was certainly making use of those thick blackout curtains! It made the whole room look like it was three AM, rather than six PM! There are blobs of stuff all around the room, piles of clothes and blankets that Virgil prefers to have on the floor rather than put somewhere where he’s not going to trip over it in the middle of the night, but Patton supposes that’s just how Virgil’s always been.

“If someone breaks in, they’re gonna trip over this shit and I will be out of here long before they can get back up,” Virgil had said the first time Patton had suggested maybe, possibly cleaning something until they found the floor.

The desk where Virgil did his school work is empty and the textbooks and computer that normally covered it are all on the ground like a massacre from what Patton can make out. Virgil shuffles through the room and ends up turning on the purple lava lamp that Patton got him three years ago so that they could at least see each other and the faux-floor, and even then he doesn’t look happy at needing that much. The elevated bed had the blankets ripped up from it and turned into a nest with Virgil’s phone light peeking out from the depths like some underwater cave with a sea monster in it waiting for an unsuspecting diver.

“Remind me, how you got into this building?” Virgil says, tiredly as he pries open the cookie container. “It requires a key and last time I checked, you don’t have one of those, Pat.”

“As if a key would stop me from checking on you!” Patton replies. He plops himself on a pile of clothes and clears away another spot for Virgil to collapse next to him, so that Virgil can’t exactly escape. “Now, what is this about Logan again? You were being kinda vague and world-ending-y again. ”

Virgil lets out a moan around the cookie he shoved in his mouth and drops to the floor next to Patton, to munch angrily or just upsetly without actually offering an answer, because he’s Virgil and he’s allergic to talking about things that upset him. Patton sets down his other thermos, his laptop, and his own phone to make room for the game between them.

“Must we?” Virgil asks as Patton sets up the board with a practiced hand. Even in the near darkness of the room he knows exactly what he’s doing, and could probably figure it out with no light at all.

“Of course!” Patton says. “You sounded like you were in Trouble.”

“ Sorry to disappoint.”

“It’s rather Risk -y of you to be self deprecating while within hugging distance.”

Virgil doesn’t say anything for a moment, just swallows the bite of his cookie and stares at the colored pieces in front of him. The board game is well worn and well loved-- one of the first ones Patton had ever gotten and one of the first ones he ever convinced Virgil to play with him. Although “convinced” is a strong word for how Patton had just been staring at the board numbly with red rimmed eyes when his father had asked Virgil to come over and try to coax him into eating something, anything, please .

They’d lost three pieces of the red team and one of the yellow and two of the green, but that’s okay because Patton generally played blue and Virgil had custom ordered four purple pieces for just the two of them a few years ago.

Carefully, placatingly, Virgil reaches a hand forward and pops the dice bubble for his number. He gets a four.

Patton gets a five.

“How many times have we played this one, Pat?” Virgil asks, in a voice much softer than before. In the faded purple light and the shadows, it’s hard to see the number on the die, and harder to see exactly what Virgil is thinking about with his eyes hidden like that. His nails are bitten down to the quick, ruining the black nail polish he spent an hour applying last weekend over their shared Biology notes.

Patton shrugs as he reaches forward to take his turn and pops the bubble. Honestly he didn’t think he could calculate the answer if Virgil pressed: this was their go-to game, this was his go-to pun, this is what they did even when the world was falling apart at the seams. It was easier to focus on moving playing pieces a couple pegs than it was to focus on the sound of a heart monitor or raspy breathing or bony pale fingers that shook when they tried to hold anything.

It was easier to find a way to win when the instructions were so clear, and the rules were so fair, and the consequences of losing were just having to put the game back in the box.

Virgil doesn’t say anything more and Patton doesn’t force him to, although he desperately wants to. He wants to reach out and catch Virgil’s hands in his own, he wants to give him a squeeze, he wants to wipe away the tear tracks in his makeup and he wants to tell Virgil that whatever it is, Patton will be there for him.

He wants Virgil to look at a game for once and have fun.

But the only sound in the room is the popper when they roll the die back and forth.

Patton gets the six first. He moves his second leftmost piece to the start and hits it again for a three.

Virgil stares his blue piece on the board for a long moment, without blinking. His hands lie limply in his lap and the tub of cookies sits at his knee. The purple light makes his eyes glisten sweetly, wetly, sadly, with a resignation that Patton knows and wishes he doesn’t. The lump in his throat swells up.

“Virgil?”

Virgil blinks. And then blinks again.

“Why should I even bother at this point?” he asks. He runs a hand up to his hair and tugs at the locks.

“Virgil, this is the opening of the game,” Patton says. “You can’t give up alrea--”

“But it’s not like I’m going to win,” Virgil says and Patton sucks in a breath sharply.

Oh. It was one of those days.

Patton thinks that he should have been expecting this; it had been a decent amount of time since Virgil last had refused to finish a game, and Patton had almost thought that maybe they had kicked those thoughts for good! That through sheer willpower and perseverance and proof to the contrary, they might have managed to rework how Virgil approached a challenge. That at one point Virgil might laugh and smile even when he wasn’t in the lead--

And yet, Patton’s sitting with one piece three spaces ahead of Virgil and Virgil is ready to call it quits. The game had just started. Patton had only been sitting in the room for a total of five minutes. Virgil hadn’t talked for more than a couple sentences.

It’s one of those days, except that Patton doesn’t think that it’s ever been this bad before, because usually they at least made it to the one piece around the board in Trouble , through to one check in Chess , through to one hotel being built in Monopoly , or one train ticket completed in Ticket to Ride .

“This is a sign, isn’t it?” Virgil continues. “I’m just being stupid even considering it. Of course I am. I always am. Nevermind, I don’t want to do this today Pat. Thanks for the soup and the cookies and I’m sorry that I made you walk all the way--”

Patton reaches out and snags Virgil’s arm before he can get all the way off the ground. The board nudges to the side dislodging several pieces into the surrounding void, but Patton thinks that he can replace a hundred playing pieces.

He cannot replace his best friend.

Virgil’s skin is cold, even though the room was comfortably warm, and he’s soft to the touch-- which is never what Patton expects when he gets those lightning quick hugs, when Virgil rests his head on his shoulder during movie nights, when they go shopping and there are crowds that make Virgil want to run for the hills and only Patton’s hand in his keeps him grounded there. Virgil is soft despite the jagged persona he puts on to drive away other people, and he hasn’t gotten any sort of touch in a while because he shuts up the moment that Patton’s own warmth floods over him.

The room holds the silence for an eternity: Virgil frozen halfway up from the ground, and Patton latching on to him like he can pluck all the reasons Virgil is upset out of his mind through osmosis. The lava lamp makes him look unreal, makes the silence ring louder, makes the lump in Patton’s throat grow larger.

“Virgil,” Patton says, “please.”

Please tell me what I can do. Please allow me to help. Please let me in.

“It’s stupid,” Virgil says.

Patton wants to laugh, because nothing that ever hurts Virgil has ever been stupid. “I don’t think so, kiddo.”

Virgil bites his lip and inhales with all of his chest.

“You didn’t go to any classes today. You’ve been crying. You’re still wearing yesterday’s clothes.” Patton says. “Something happened. And it can’t possibly be stupid because nothing that affects you like this is can be anything less than something huge.”

Patton feels Virgil’s hand curl into a fist like he can hide his shaking when Patton is right there .

“Do you remember Logan Ackroyd,” Virgil says. “The senior a year older than us who I had Sociology with last year?”

The same Logan who took extra notes for when Virgil missed class and emailed them to him. The same Logan who offered Virgil a granola bar when he overheard that Virgil had missed lunch. The same Logan who helped Virgil break into the auditorium after school hours to search for his missing earbuds.

The same Logan who has eyes more knowledgeable than the entire galaxy, who wears a tie to class, who smells like coffee beans and pen ink and looks like he’d give really good, safe hugs.

The same Logan who Patton has never once met, but feels like he knows intimately thanks to Virgil’s starstruck rambles.

Logan must be something great and amazing. Patton has known that for a year now, from watching the months slip away and suddenly the ghost of Logan joins them on every outing, summoned by the blush over Virgil’s ears and the soft smile on his lips and the way that Virgil steadfastly won’t meet Patton’s eyes like it will prevent Patton from noticing the way that the senior is always on Virgil’s mind. Logan is kind. Logan is smart. Logan has a new book every day. Logan has a voice like the ocean waves.

Logan, Patton thinks, should have been more careful if he caused Virgil this much distress. Because there are things that Patton would do for Virgil that not even a cold blooded killer would consider doing.

“Yeah,” Patton says, with a smile soft and dumb and innocent. “You guys have Analytical Science together this year, right?”

Virgil lets go of his lip, and breathes out a breath that sounds like more relief than Patton is supposed to hear. “Yeah. Yeah. He, uh… yeah.” Virgil shifts back down, shifts so that he’s on his knees and Patton is right next to him, and they’re still touching and that warmth is stronger than the shadows made by the blobs in the lava lamp.

“Janus… Janus asked him out yesterday,” Virgil says, using his other hand to pluck at a thread in his jeans.

Oh. Patton doesn’t think cookies and soup were enough.

And golly, Patton doesn’t think Logan is as smart as Virgil is always saying he is either, because if he said yes in front of Virgil, he must have been the stupidest person on the planet.

Virgil is quiet, dismissible, a shadow in his own skin even on his best days. But he is not un-noticeable.

He carries an aura around himself that storms and thunders and promises danger to those that get too close. His laughter is a threat first and a comfort second. His smile is a knife blade that even Patton sometimes wonders if he might find in his back one day. Virgil was someone that you noticed and you stayed the fudge away from.

Unless you were Patton, who hadn’t been afraid of Death from the moment he watched his mother cough up blood over the cards to CandyLand, watched his mother turn into a real-life game of Operation, watched her breathing get ragged and her fingers struggle to hold playing cards between them.

Logan hadn’t been scared away by Virgil’s thunder, and somehow he had weathered the storm that Virgil put up to protect himself and lived securely in the eye of the hurricane. And somehow he hadn’t noticed, hadn’t cared, had taken advantage of Virgil’s softening heart just to shatter it.

“He didn’t…” Virgil says. “Janus… he didn’t really mean it. I don’t think. It might have been a joke because they’re friends but Logan told everyone that he would only consider dating someone who could… could…”

“Could what?”

Virgil’s eyes flick down to the Trouble game board, to the pieces lost in chaos of the floor, to the box they hadn’t needed except for transport. Patton feels his heart thud in his chest before he crawls up his throat and he tastes it in his mouth along with the remains of the raw cookie dough he licked off the spoon while cleaning up.

Virgil’s words come back to him in whispers. But it’s not like I’m going to win. This is a sign, isn’t it? I’m just being stupid even considering it.

“Someone who could….” Patton says, “beat him in a boardgame?”

Virgil yanks the thread on his jeans sharply and nods without meeting Patton’s eyes. “I told you it was stupid.”

“Virgil,” Patton says. “This is great! We’ve been playing games together for years! You can beat--”

“That’s the thing!” Virgil says with his shoulders curling up to his ears and burying him in layers of excess fabric. “Pat, I can’t even beat you in a board game and I know all your strategies!”

“I don’t think that Trouble actually has any strategies. It’s really luck of the roll--”

Virgil peeks out of his hood enough to give Patton a miserable glare. “When was the last time I won against you, Pat? Be honest.”

Patton purses his lips. “I don’t think that’s fair, kiddo. I’ve been playing games since I was able to understand the rules--”

“You don’t even remember, do you.”

“It was Dominos and you won by twenty points.”

“Nice try, but you purposely miscounted and you actually won by two.” Virgil reaches out for another cookie and offers it to Patton without making any move to pull his other hand from Patton’s hold.

“You would have a lot more wins if you didn’t insist on not finishing games sometimes!” Patton says. “You never know the ending of a game until you play it out!”

“I could tell you that Logan was going to beat Janus in Chess the moment the opening moves were made,” Virgil counters. “He won in twelve moves and then the next game in six.”

Patton opens his mouth, but Virgil shoves the cookie in before he can actually say anything.

“And God Rest Remy’s soul because Logan obliterated him in Trivia Pursuit.” Virgil continues, “He turned Roman to mincemeat over Scrabble, and not only beat Remus in Poker, but won one hundred dollars off him too. I also watched him win in Othello against some kid he tutored in Calc, a game of Mancala with an art kid who was doing it for clout, and Stratego which he won before I finished reading the fuuuuuudging rules and made his opponent cry over it.”

Patton swallows down a bite of cookie that he didn’t not chew well enough because he feels it tear up his esophagus as it goes. Virgil politely ignores him dying for a second and offers him his own thermos of soup to help it down, before remembering that he’s supposed to be brooding and staring at Patton for too long makes him soft.

“Not to make a pun here, but no dice; I legitimately cannot beat Logan,” Virgil says. “He’s just… so good. At everything. What is the point in humiliating myself with this? Even if I find a game so obscure that he’s never heard of it and doesn’t have a strategy built for it, just going up to him and putting the board between us is like-- that’s telling him that I’ve had this massive stupid crush on him for ages and what if he doesn’t even like me? What if I win and then he has to date me because he said so but he actually hates me? What if--”

Patton coughs so hard he thinks he might have dislodged his own lung, which is fine!! Because at least it got Virgil to snap back to him and table his panicky spiral for later.

“Weren’t you,” Patton croaks, “Weren’t you already going to confess to him? You bought the chocolate kisses and you sent me pictures of them in your bag right before class last week.”

Patton can’t see Virgil’s ears because of his hood but he knows that they’re glowing red from the way that Virgil can’t meet his eyes again.

“I just….I did but then he….” Virgil nudges a pile of questionably clean band t-shirts with his socked foot. “He said he wasn’t interested because class was starting and I still don’t know if he meant an actual kiss or a Hershey kiss because he had to leave class early to pick up his kid brother from his middle school because he was sick with a fever and then I was too mortified to bring it back up-- See Pat, I can’t even come up with a creative way to tell Logan that I wanna listen to him ramble about jellyfish immortality and play with his hair or tell him that I wanna know what the flavor of his chapstick is-- which, by the way, I did say to him and he told me was cake batter and that I could find it at the corner drugstore because he thought I was looking for recommendations-- There is no way to subtly tell him that I want to date him.”

“Then maybe… don’t be subtle?” Patton suggests, and then points at the game between them. “Boardgame?”

Virgil scowls at the game like it had personally offended him. “But I can’t beat him. And if I lose and by some miracle he still wants to be seen with me, then he’d be breaking the very rules he set up and everyone else who lost is going to be pissed at both of us and I can’t do that to Logan.”

Patton bites back the then don’t lose that he wants to say. It seems so obvious to him. He doesn’t really see why Virgil doesn’t think he can win one single game. There isn’t even a rule that says Virgil can’t come back and play again-- which isn’t that the point of games? That you can play them for a little while, pack them up, and then come back to them later? That you sit down with friends-maybe-more and you play and have fun ?

Not for the first time, and not for the last time, Patton wonders why Virgil ever played games with him at all. He knows the first time was pity because he found Patton sitting on the floor of his bedroom with Trouble on the ground in front of him and staring at it numbly because he had cried all the tears out of himself already at the hospital, at the funeral, at the everything that had come after that he couldn’t remember. The first time it had been to get Patton to react because he had been so lost, but every time after that Virgil had made the conscious decision to pick up the pieces.

Even if sometimes he had put them back down halfway through and Patton hadn’t figured out how to convince him that the point isn’t to win as much as it is to have fun.

Virgil twists his wrist loosely in Patton’s grip so that he’s holding Patton back, his cold fingers somehow feeling comforting rather than startling. Patton has always loved that about him, although he’s never sure how that works. The coolness of his touch is familiar, but the vulnerability of Virgil reaching out is something newer, something special, something fragile and Virgil holds onto him like he’s expecting Patton to let go at any moment and Patton steadfastly refuses to let him drift off. Patton squeezes his wrist gently, lightly, softly.

I’m here. I’m not leaving. We’re in this together.

“I think that Logan can make decisions for himself,” Patton says with words so featherlight they barely move the air. “Remember the dominos? Any player can choose to lose, whether it be miscounting or it be refusing to finish the game in the end. But if you never even offer to play with him… Logan can’t make that choice, Virgil.”

Virgil holds his gaze for a moment, two, three, and there’s something in his eyes that shies away from the glow of the light, something slippery and weak and scared. Something that Patton is afraid to put a name to, lest it disappear from him forever.

Something that causes Virgil to squeeze his wrist back.

Together. Us. We’ve got this.

“So what game do you want to play with Logan?” Patton asks. “We can go look at my collection if you want? I loaned out Backgammon to a girl in my Shakespearean class, but other than that I have the usuals with me.”

Virgil takes a deep breath. “Can we…” He says. “Do it tomorrow? I don’t want…” He squeezes Patton’s wrist again and Patton can fill in the rest of the blanks with his own interpretations. He is, after all, fluent in Virgilese, as much as Virgil is fluent in Pattonish.

“Yeah, yeah,” Patton says and shifts through the piles of clothes that act as cushions so he’s right next to Virgil, pressing their shoulders together, leaning his head on Virgil’s collarbone, and reaching around him for another cookie. Virgil moves the tub between them and then pulls the Trouble game board in front of that.

He hesitates for another moment-- they’re missing two of Patton’s blue pieces to the floor, and one of Virgil’s purples to a pile of sweatshirts-- but the fact that Virgil drops forward and presses the bubble to roll the die makes Patton’s chest warm.

He gets a six, and then a four and that thing in his eyes seems to grow just a bit stronger.

That is, of course, when the rap music from next door starts up loud enough to shake the entire room and Patton wonders if Logan would still be up for playing a game with Virgil when he’s incarcerated for second degree murder.

Patton, at least, gets a hug out of it, when he tackles Virgil to the ground before he can get to the door, and he manages to coax Virgil back to their area, back to the floor, back to the game, and then later into the blanket-fort-and-movie-night that they watch with one earbud each and their foreheads pressed together late into the night.

***

Patton’s mother developed lung cancer when he was seven. He remembers it in vague flashes: the blood, the shakiness, her fall to the floor because they had never had any sign of it happening until it was too late to do much about it. He was told it was because his maternal grandparents both smoked a lot when she was growing up and she spent the weekends helping them around the house still.

The doctors said she had a year. She got eighteen months.

He barely remembers her face from his own memories anymore, all of them blurred and twisted by the passage of time that he almost got swept away in entirely. Her picture still hangs around the house, though, and he guesses he’s lucky in that regard. He liked how he could see her every time he passed by the stairs, even after his dad remarried and he had grown up and the telemarketers stopped calling the house to tell her that there was an interesting charge on the credit card she didn’t have anymore.

He still wakes up sometimes with his heart beating in his ears and his eyes blinded with tears and his lungs refusing to cooperate because of nightmares about forgetting her entirely, of seeing her stand up to call out to his dad, of seeing her cough out blood and then fall to the floor right in front of him as his dad is running down the stairs. He still wakes up and feels his heart aching where she might have once been if everything had gone just a little bit different. He still wakes up and wishes that he could go back to sleep because at least in his dreams she’s still there waiting with a deck of cards and a smile that says, “Alright, Buster, don’t think I’m going to go easy on you this time!”

Usually those types of days he labels as “Bad Ones”, and he finds it harder to crawl from under his blankets to do pretty much anything.

Virgil knows immediately when he sees Patton staring at his black laptop screen that it’s a Bad One.

Patton loves that he knows not to ask, hates that Virgil can read him so easily, wants to cry because it’s been so long and shouldn’t the edges of that pain have gone away by now? He wants to pull Virgil’s purple comforter back over them and drift back off into the blissful warmth while pretending that the idea of a game right now didn’t make his hands shake.

She hadn’t left Patton specifically a lot of things, but the things that she had left him had been boardgames. Things that she had collected over the years and kept on a shelf in the study for them to play after work and school: Candyland, Trouble, Snakes and Ladders. She had a whole shelf for him when he got to an age where he could understand more complex concepts: Ticket to Ride, Pandemic, Mysterium, Star Realms, Settlers of Catan.

After she was gone… Patton had stared at that shelf and wondered if she had ever thought that maybe she wouldn’t get a chance to play some of them with him.

He wonders how many of them he could have beat her at, how many of them she might let him win in, how many of them they would love to play together and how many of them they would both play through once and then wrinkle their noses at because it wasn’t what they thought it was going to be.

He wonders and maybe it’s a bit too much because he’s stomach is rolling nauseously and he thinks that if he has to look at a game he’ll actually throw up this time.

Virgil doesn’t say anything, even as he gets up and Patton remains buried under too many blankets and the alarm on his phone goes off again for his morning class. The darkness is safe and warm and Patton thinks he understands why Virgil likes it so much as he closes his eyes and tries not to think of a woman who is long gone and in the ground.

“Breakfast?” Virgil whispers at some point.

“Cookies,” Patton mumbles back.

Virgil had carted a hand through his curls and then the door to the room had opened closed and locked behind him. Patton thinks that was nice of him-- to lock the door like he was protecting anyone from coming in and stealing his valuables even though Patton was there. Or maybe since Patton was there? Patton presses his head into a pillow that smells vaguely like chocolate cherries and black licorice and other things that screamed Virgil, and thinks that Virgil might consider Patton a valuable that needs to be protected and kept safe.

Sometime later Patton wakes up with Virgil lying beside him, headphones on and typing on his computer with one hand while dragging fingers through Patton’s curls with the other. It’s impressive of him by itself, but not nearly as impressive as the fact that Virgil’s hood is down and the blackout curtains are parted enough to bring in a decent amount of light.

Virgil blinks at him and removes one earmuff. “I read that flowers need sunlight to grow,” he says in lieu of explaining the rays of light cascading into the room over the two of them.

Patton wants to laugh, and thinks he might if it were any other day and not this one. He settles for a somewhat bent smile and Virgil reaches to somewhere he can’t see and brings back a muffin from the Campus Cafe.

“Chocolate Chip,” he says. “Which is like a cookie, but better because it’s a muffin and I said so.”

Patton can’t really tell if the tears that prick in his eyes are from the lingering sadness or the softness of just a simple gesture from his best friend. Maybe it’s both. Maybe it’s neither.

It’s a muffin, not something he should be crying over, and he repeats it even as he takes a bite from the top and Virgil pretends like he doesn’t see Patton scrubbing his cheeks as he chews. It’s a muffin, but Virgil got it just for him and Virgil came right back here and sat with him so he wouldn’t wake up alone and sad and and and--

And if Patton liked anyone romantically like that(™) he thinks he would have fallen straight into love with Virgil.

“Did you miss class?” Patton whispers.

Virgil shrugs. “Nothing important. I sent an email to my teachers saying that I wasn’t feeling too good and didn’t want to risk accidentally spreading anything to anyone, which already helps because I didn’t go to class yesterday and I’ve already turned in all my work for the week for most of my classes. Besides, you were here and I didn’t want to just leave you all alone-- what if Roman started playing his Disney compilations at 160 decibels again?”

“You like Disney, though.”

“I also like my hearing and my best friend,” Virgil says like it’s nothing, like it’s obvious, like it shouldn’t be making Patton tear up again because Virgil is just so nice.

“I’m sorry,” Patton whispers.

Virgil moves his computer and jostles around on the bed until they’re lying side-by-side even though the bed was definitely not made for two persons. He presses his head to Patton’s, and he’s cool and soft and safe.

Together. We got this.

“Your mom?” He asks.

Patton nods, with a lump in his throat that makes all the words he wants to say crumble to ashes on his tongue. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, Pat,” Virgil says.

“But… Logan…”

“He’s not going anywhere,” Virgil says. “And, full offense, but no boy is going to be more important to me than you regardless of how fuuuuuuunkily hot he is. Funkily, yeah, sure, that’s a word that I definitely was going to say right there.”

Patton feels the laugh build up in his chest, against all the odds in the world, and it tastes like chocolate when it rolls out of his mouth.

Virgil bumps his shoulder, and grins. “Look, I’m trying here. Cursing is in my nature!”

“Thank you,” Patton says. For everything.

“No prob, Bob,” Virgil says. I would do it all all over again and never change a thing.

“I’m not Bob! I’m Pat!”

Virgil’s laugh is like the sun breaking through the clouds after a rainstorm, like a rainbow cascading through the sky, like being caught after a fall. Patton gets the energy to smile back when he hears it and that alone nearly makes him want to cry again.

Patton twists the blanket under him between his fingers and takes a deep breath. “Did you…” He says before pausing to swallow back the taste of his own stomach acids he’s not sure is entirely imaginary. “Did you pick a game? For Logan?”

Virgil’s nose twitches, which means the answer is a sound no. “It’s not that important right now. You’re not feeling up to--”

“ Vir -gil,” Patton says and Virgil’s nose twitches again.

They share a look for another minute, two, three, before Virgil exhales and looks away.

“Fine, fine,” he says. “I didn’t pick out a game yet. I actually saw him in the Cafe earlier with Janus and he waved, though, which was awesome until I waved back and forgot to look where I was going and walked straight into a glass door. At this point it’s going to be a miracle if Logan doesn’t laugh in my face when I ask him to play anything with me.”

“He won’t laugh at you,” Patton says and Virgil slides his arms up and crosses them so he can bury his chin in them like he doesn’t believe Patton at all. “From what you’ve told me, Logan is really nice isn’t he? And the other day didn’t you say that he went on a rant about Pluto being a planet? I think that’s just as silly as you walking into a door.”

Virgil hums to show he’s listening, even if he isn’t taking the words to heart as much as letting them filter through his ears. Patton licks the last of the chocolate muffin from his fingertips and blinks away the urge to hide away from the rest of the world when he spies the box for Trouble on the ground next to Virgil’s desk trash can.

Virgil follows his gaze to the box and he purses his lips, although Patton isn’t sure if its from the fact that he’s remembering that neither of them won last night, or if he’s thinking about odds of beating Logan again or if he, too, is thinking about ghostly fingers trying so hard to move playing pieces that they can no longer touch.

Patton rolls over and stares at Virgil’s ceiling instead, counting his breaths until he feels like the static between his ears isn’t going to overwhelm him.

“What game do you want to play?” Patton asks.

“I won’t win.”

“I didn’t ask what game you wanted to win,” Patton points out. “What game do you want to play against Logan?”

Virgil is quiet, but he sighs so heavily that Patton can see his bangs flutter out of the corner of his eyes.

“This is going to sound stupid,” Virgil says, and again Patton remembers that nothing Virgil ever says has ever once been stupid. “But I don’t want to play against him at all.”

Patton frowns, rolling his head to the side to take in Virgil’s gaze that is already looking at him. His dark eyes are there and the something in them that Patton doesn’t want to put a name to is there again, shining just like the rays of light between Virgil’s blinds.

“I mean I want to play a game with Logan, just not against Logan. It’s stupid, okay? I was just thinking about the cooperative games back at your house that we used to play with your dad and step mom-- you know like the Unlock , Escape-room-in-a-box games? Or maybe Flashpoint? Or Forbidden Island? I was just thinking how shit I am at making my own decisions in Pandemic and Logan is really good at strategy so I bet that working together we’d be able to beat any game.”

Patton breathes deeply, sharply, and tries to ignore the piercing pain in his chest at the mention of the games. Virgil winces like he wants to take the words right back out of the air and hide them somewhere where neither of them have to face them at all.

“I don’t…” Virgil says, “I don’t want to play against him and lose. I’d rather play with him and win. Again: it’s stupid.”

Patton closes his eyes, and sees the shelf his mom left him full of boardgames she picked out long before he was past chewing on building blocks, of him at eleven years old finally getting the courage to drag a kitchen chair to the case and pick out a game while Virgil stood by to make sure he didn’t fall and to remind him that it was okay if he didn’t didn’t feel strong enough to try, of the two of them sitting at the kitchen table with the game directions between them that don’t really make any sense because it there’s no directions on how to attack each other when his dad comes home early and freezes at the sight

He might not remember his mother’s face outside of photographs he doesn’t remember being taken, but he remembers clearly the softness of his father’s expression when he dropped into the seat next to them and asked if they knew how to play this one yet.

“It’s a cooperative game,” his dad said, with a voice shaking and eyes wet. “That means we all work together to get to the goal at the end. Each player is going to have a different superpower-ability-thing that they can do that will make it easier for us to win as a team.”

So no, Patton doesn’t think that it’s stupid at all. It’s hard to do things by themselves, it’s scary, it’s difficult, it’s frustrating. That’s why when Virgil is texting him that the world is ending because of a boy, Patton will always show up at his dorm with soup and cookies and a game for them to play together instead of telling him that he’s being dramatic and silly. That’s why when Patton is missing a woman who hasn’t been in his life for twelve years now, Virgil will always stay with him to remind him that he’s going to get through it, instead of telling him to suck it up.

It’s much easier to win when they’re on the same side.

And Virgil has only ever had fun when playing games that he wins, hasn’t he?

“Why don’t you?” Patton asks suddenly.

Virgil must have nodded off because he jerks suddenly when Patton speaks up, “huh?”

“Why don’t you play a cooperative game?” Patton asks. “What did Logan say specifically about the whole dating thing?”

Virgil rubs an eye and squints at him tiredly. “I told you, he said he would only date someone who beats him at a game. I don’t--”

“Did he say beats him, or beats the game with him?”

“Neither?” Virgil says. “He literally said to Janus very loudly, “I will only consider someone a viable romantic partner if they can win in a game with me.””

“In a game with me,” Patton repeats. “ In a game with me. Not in a game against me!”

It takes Virgil a long, breathless moment to comprehend it, but it’s clear the moment it hits him. Virgil jerks so hard that he tumbles off the bed entirely and to the ground in a fumbling of long limbs, blankets, dubiously cleaned clothes, and his computer-headphones combo. Patton yelps and leans over to check on him but Virgil doesn’t even look like he noticed.

“Holy Shit,” He says, “holy shit, Pat.”

“Language.”

“ HOLY SHIT!” Virgil yells, and then he laughs and covers his mouth like he’s trying to bottle up the sound. “Patton! Patton! He didn’t say against!”

Virgil’s eyes sparkle, the light through the window makes his dark hair shine and just looking at him Patton thinks he’s never once seen him so happy before, so delighted, so excited.

So full of hope.

The next thing he knows is that he’s sitting up and Virgil is wrapped around him in a hug so tight, so soft, so cool and wonderful that those pesky tears come right back to his eyes. Virgil hugs like he’s unafraid of anything for just this endless moment, like he’s never been unsure of physical touch before, like he’s done it a million times before and Patton shouldn’t feel his breath catch in his lungs lest he shatter this dream with an exhale.

He’s standing at the eye of the storm that is Virgil, and he’s never felt so safe before in his life.

“Thank you,” Virgil whispers, “I, uh, I’m sorry for the sudden hug--”

And then, of course, Remus’s music comes back with a vengeance that rattles the ceiling tiles overhead and makes Virgil hiss and break the hug. Patton thinks that he could forgive it, if it weren’t for the unmistakable sound Disney’s Mulan soundtrack also ringing in the air, like it was trying to be heard over the rap music. Dust sprinkles from the tiles overhead.

“I’m going to kill them both,” Virgil vows, but Patton is quicker. He lunges forward before he even knows what he’s doing and coils around Virgil as tightly as he can, and just hugs him, his best friend, the guy who’s always been there for him, and who deserved all the happiness that he could get.

“Pat?” Virgil says.

“If Logan doesn’t treat you right I’m going to make sure no one finds his body,” Patton says.

And Virgil’s laughter makes it sound like he doesn’t quite believe Patton, but that’s okay. Virgil is still looking for reasons to play a game if not to win, and Patton is still trying to find a game that makes him smile, and together they’re going to figure out how to get Virgil to win with Logan.

But for now the hug is good, and the company is nice, and they have the game Trouble packed away ready for the next time they want to play.

#sanders sides #board gaming #platonic moxiety #Analogical #Logan is the hottest side confirmed #Because everyone wants to date him #(Except Pat)#Me the author: what the fuck is hurt comfort #tw: cancer #I just like board games okay #maybe a little too much #I kNew YoU WeRe TrOuBlE WhEn YoU wAlKeD IN #virgil is a disaster gay #Patton really awesome #Hugs? Hugs.

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wocfics · 4 years

Text

Broken Record 3

Part 3

Arranged Marriage Series

Masterlist

MYG x Poc Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, THE SMUT IS NOW HERE. (Tongue technology activated)

Word Count: 6k

You had been walking on eggshells the past couple of months around Yoongi. Since you had been in such high spirits lately, you got a little too excited to bring Yoongi an Americano to his home studio and without thinking, it slipped from your hands and landed all over his equipment, causing his very expensive recording table to short circuit and die out. He was lucky he saved everything onto his laptop but shouted at you when it happened. You’d never heard someone’s voice so loud before, let alone his. You both knew it was an accident but when he yelled ‘GET THE FUCK OUT!’ at the top of his lungs, you froze up and quickly ran out of the studio with tears in your eyes.

Your mood was up and down since then. Trying to do things to cheer him up like make his favorite foods or replace the sheet masks you used up the month before that were his but he didn’t mind you taking them.

Now sitting in the living room on your couch with your laptop on your lap, you looked up different recording tables, chewing on your bottom lip until you came across one identical to the one he had and looked at the price. Holy shit! It was definitely worth replacement since you were the one who screwed it all up so you purchased it without thinking twice and typed in all of your information and even got a protection plan on it as well.

There weren’t many words exchanged between the two of you, only one of you saying if you were heading out or what you wanted to eat. He didn’t even hug you anymore and you were starting to get a little depressed from the lack of skin ship that you were getting used to. You kept to your side of the bed and often wondered if he even liked you anymore. You were bigger than he was, maybe you could start on that diet you saw some girls doing a couple of weeks ago. Or maybe head to the nearest plastic surgeon to get a few pounds lifted off of you.

Sitting behind the counter of your music shop, dressed in ripped jeans and a black button up blouse, you looked down at your phone when it buzzed, notifying you that you received a new email. Glancing around the store, it was empty for now, you looked over the email and saw that the recording table was delivered and mentally cursed at yourself. You wanted it to be a surprise for Yoongi and today was his day off. Hopefully he wasn’t home by the time you got there so you could set it up for him. You quickly sent him a text, seeing if he was home. He read it and the three little bubbles that showed he was typing came into view before he simply sent a thumbs down emoji.

After helping a few people in the store and ringing up their items, you closed the register and the store before heading home and kicking your shoes off by the door after seeing the boxes outside of it. You pulled everything in and down to the studio, taking off your blouse and putting it on the back of the computer chair, leaving you in a tank top. You pulled up your hair and began opening the boxes and reading the instructions on how to put everything together. This was gonna take a while.

The front door opened and Yoongi walked in, seeing your shoes on the side, he kicked off his slides and looked around for you but didn’t seem to find you until he heard something moving around and thud down in the studio. Sighing heavily to himself, he took a deep breath before heading down, wondering what it is that you had broken now. He was looking for a replacement for his table but the last one was sold out days ago and he didn’t know when the same one would be available. He knows you didn’t ruin it all on purpose so he took the day to spend time with Hobi, talking over the situation and wondering what to do. He had to apologize for sure, not wanting to make you upset given your vulnerable state. It was wrong to ignore you all this time and he could see that you were trying to make it up to him.

When he opened the studio door and saw you plugging in something, the boxes across the room, he blinked a few times before clearing his throat. You turned around, standing up quickly and fixing your hair.

“Um, hi...uh, I-I wanted to clean everything up first before you got back but I found you a new recording table. It’s the exact same one and I set it up by myself, I even got a warranty on it and everything. I also got a smaller table to go on the side just in case I do ever bring you another coffee so it won’t spill all over your com-” You were cut off by his lips pressing into yours. It was nice for him to finally kiss you. You had tried to kiss him before but he kept saying he wasn’t ready and you weren’t one to pressure anyone. They felt right against your pouty ones, molding together, one hand on your waist and the other one on the back of your neck. Your hands were gripping the front of his shirt, your lips chasing after his when he pulled away and looked down at you.

You stared up at him, waiting for him to say anything. “I’ve been looking for two days for this table, trying to figure out why it was unavailable. Thank you..Y/N. You didn’t have to buy this for me.” He moved his hands to cup your face, rubbing his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks before pressing another kiss into your lips. He was going to end up kissing you silly at this point. “I’m sorry for ruining the last one.” You finally spoke, your body felt like pudding under his touch. His black hair was pulled away from his eyes and he couldn’t help the gummy smile that appeared on his face. “I should be apologizing to you. I was an asshole for yelling at you the way I did. I never meant to hurt your feelings, especially with everything going on with you.” He wrapped his arms around you, kissing your head in the process.

“Are you hungry?” You asked after helping with clearing out the boxes and taking them to the front door. Yoongi handed you your shirt and you took it, draping it over your shoulder. He nodded. “We can wait. I need a shower first.” He pulled his shirt over his head while walking into the bedroom and tossing it into the dirty laundry bin. You made your way into the kitchen, prepping some steaks and setting them in a bowl to marinate in the fridge.

You’re well aware that you haven’t had sex in a very long time and you haven’t with Yoongi yet. Neither of you made a move on each other just yet and you wondered why he wasn’t trying to. Part of you figured it was because of how you looked and another part of you wondered if maybe he was seeing someone else, even before the two of you got married. You didn’t want to speak on it but at least he kissed you right? It was a start anyways. Did he find you attractive? He never complimented any of your outfits or your hair for that matter. Maybe he was just busy and tired.

You sat on the edge of your shared bed, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom so that you could jump in before starting on dinner. Once the shower turned off, you watched him walk out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and water dripping from his hair. You could tell he was gaining some muscle weight but you said nothing. Often, you’d catch yourself staring too long like you were right now, blinking and looking away. “I’ll be right out to get started on dinner.” You passed by him and into the bathroom. You hopped into the shower, sighing heavily as the hot water hit your skin. Yoongi chuckled to himself in the bedroom before changing into his pajamas.

It was a long time coming for Yoongi to just even kiss you. You had been “married” for six months although you couldn’t blame him, jumping right into someone’s life without knowing anything about them was sudden on both ends. Every part of you wanted this to work with him, you were still figuring each other out after all.

Not wanting to spend too much time in the shower, you washed and did your skincare routine before heading into the bedroom. You could hear music from the kitchen and figured Yoongi plugged up his phone to the home speaker, playing some slow jams while you finished getting ready, opting for the blue silk pajama shorts and matching tank top.

Once your hair was clipped up, you headed into the kitchen to take everything from the fridge, glancing over at Yoongi who was now sitting at the island, pouring wine into two glasses.

“What’s for dinner?” He asked, grabbing one of the glasses and taking a sip from it, smacking his lips together and glancing up at you. You missed his eyes scanning over your body while you grabbed various pots and pans.

“Steak, mashed potatoes with gravy, asparagus and I made a cheesecake yesterday with a mango drizzle.” You spoke while heating up the pan and looking over at him. “What? Is there something on my face?” You lightly touched your face and dropped your hands when you saw him laughing and shaking his hand while walking over to you with the other glass of wine in his hand for you. You grabbed it, thanking him and took a sip before raising your eyebrows.

“It’s nothing you just...it’s nothing. I like the pajamas.”

He moved next to you, deciding to help with cooking. This night was going to be interesting.

Two bottles of wine later, you sat at the table with him, talking about the many customers you got on a daily basis while he told you about filming the Run BTS episodes.

“There’s always this really cute couple that comes in and since I have a little cafe they get black coffee with two scoops of sugar and always request jazz. They dance and always leave a big tip and it’s the cutest thing ever.”

Your entire face was hot from the wine getting to you but you weren’t drunk by any means. Yoongi’s cheeks were red but by now he was just eating at the last bits of his slice of cheesecake while you spoke.

“Maybe we’ll be like that someday. When our kids are moved out and we stay in the city and Min Holly will be old with us too.”

Your eyes were low while you stared at him. He really wanted children with you? Maybe you were doing something right after all. “Our kids will be cute. I hope they look like you.” You confessed, finishing the rest of the wine in your glass and standing up from your seat, stretching and yawning. “They’ll look like both of us. You’re beautiful Y/N, don’t forget that.” He put the dishes in the sink, grabbing your hand afterwards and turning to pull you into your bedroom after turning out the lights.

“Yoongi...I’m sorry for breaking your recording table, I know with everything going on with me that I have these manic episodes and I get so overly excited that sometimes I don’t realize that the good that I think I’m doing might be something bad-”

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it and I shouldn’t have yelled. It was an accident and it’s fixed now. Everything’s saved on my computer anyways so it’s okay.”

You both brushed your teeth and you left Yoongi to do his skincare routine.

Taking down your hair, you walked over to your dresser and put your clip away, listening to Yoongi pull the blanket back on the bed and sit down on the edge of it. Although he had worked earlier in the day, finishing up some touches on his new album, he was exhausted. Everything was finalized and he wanted to release it tonight and have a Vlive with you tomorrow.

Putting on your black satin bonnet, you turned out the light and crawled into bed next to him, facing the ceiling. He let out a loud sigh and glanced over at you. “My album release is tomorrow. If you’re not bust later, I’d like to do a Vlive with you later on and have a few drinks.” He grabbed your hand under the blanket and intertwined his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumbs against the top of your hand. You nodded, chewing on your bottom lip and looking at him. “I’d love that. I’m excited to hear it. I’ve only heard little beats but I know it’s gonna be great.”

You both turned towards each other and he pulled you closer to him, putting your leg over his hip before leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the lips. You couldn’t help but lean in, capturing his lips again and resting your hand on the back of his neck. His tongue snaked between your lips, causing you to moan into his mouth as his wet appendage tangled with yours. His one hand resting against your leg, moved up and around to grip your ass, kneading the soft flesh. Pulling you on top of him, you panicked for a second, ready to move off of him but he held you there, pulling away front our lips to look at you. “I don’t break that easily. It’s okay.” His hands holding onto your hips and moving your now wet clothed core against the tent in his pants. Leaning back down to kiss him, you moved your lips down to his neck, careful not to leave any lingering marks since he was going live tomorrow.

Lifting his shirt over his head, you kissed his chest, licking one of his nipples which made him tense up a little before looking down at you as you stared at him through your lashes. Sliding down further, his hands slipping away from your body, you took off your bonnet and kissed down his stomach until you got to his shorts, nipping at his hips before looking up at him. “Let me take care of you.” You whispered. He groaned in response and lifted his hips to remove his shorts, his cock standing at full attention now that you were eye to eye with it.

His member was perfect in every way, not too long and not too wide and the small bead of precum dripping from the tip made your mouth water for it to be inside of your mouth. Gripping it in your hand, you swiped your thumb over the tip, spreading the precum over the rest of his cock before licking one stripe from the base to the tip, earning a deep groan from him before you wrapped your lips around him and closed your eyes.

His hand immediately went to your hair and kept it out of your face as he looked down at you. Deep brown eyes staring right back into his eyes as you looked up at him before closing your eyes once more and began to suck on his tip, setting an even pace as you slowly took more and more of him into your mouth.

Taking all of him into your mouth until your forehead was now touching his lower stomach, you heard him sigh heavily and grip your hair a little tighter. His tip hitting the back of your throat as you began moving your head up and down.

“Fuck, Y/N..” He growled, his head falling back into the pillow as his hands began to move your head up and down on his dick faster, his hips thrusting slightly into your mouth, making you moan. The vibrations from your throat shooting into his cock and making him moan from the feeling. You hand moved down to cup his balls, massaging them in your hand as he used both of his hands to thrust up into your mouth quickly, saliva dripping down from your mouth and the lewd sounds coming from him abusing your throat as well as the quiet gagging coming from you had you pressing your thighs together together.

“That’s it baby, just like that...fuck, you like that?”

He stared down at you, loving his view of tears spilling over your cheeks as you continued your ministrations, pushing your head down and swallowing all of his length before coming back up and swirling your tongue over the tip, him gasping in the process.

“I like when you fuck my throat..” You licked your lips before going back to swallowing his cock again, letting him fuck into your throat as he tossed his head back. It was sloppy the way your saliva was dripping down your chin and onto the bed as his thrusting became faster and sloppier, his breath catching in his throat. “I’m gonna cum, fuck, your mouth feels so good.” He grunted. Cupping his balls again, you squeezed and massaged them again, his breath catching in his throat before he grunted loudly as his release came, coating the back of your throat in his seed, your lips suctioning onto him and swallowing every bit of him as he stilled and moaned over and over until it became to much and he lifted your head off of him.

Sitting up, you licked your lips and shifted slightly since there was now a wetness between your legs from how turned on you got from him. Kissing up his stomach, you kissed him before looking down at him. “Better?” You asked and he smiled that beautiful gummy smile at you before turning over on top of you and kissing you again.

He kissed your neck, lifting up your shirt and paused when his alarm went off on his phone for him to release his album. He sighed heavily and pecked your lips before moving off of you and grabbing his phone, typing a few things and pressing a few buttons before smiling at his screen.

It was good that he was distracted, you got up from the bed which caused him to turn to you. “Where are you going?” He asked. You pointed to the bathroom and disappeared behind the door, cleaning yourself up before returning to the room where he laid on the bed, his phone on the nightstand and his eyes closed.

Laying back down, you turned your back towards him in which he turned on his side and pulled you closer, kissing your shoulder and sighing. You wanted it to be about him, but something inside you wanted to continue things more in the bedroom with him, this was the first time you were even this intimate with each other but you were happy that he was able to let you make him feel good. You were used to giving pleasure anyways but at least you could do it for someone you were now married to.

💮

Coming home late was exhausting, especially when Yoongi knew he had to be up early the following day but for some reason, he still had some energy left. Practice finished early so he figured he'd ask Jin to help him out with something afterwards. It was hard for him to be the romantic type, with not having that many relationships after becoming an idol. He figured Jin was the most charismatic and had a good eye for jewelry.

You were laying across the bed in pajama pants and a bralette, scrolling through your phone while Holly laid at the foot of the bed asleep from the walk you two went on after you came home from getting your hair braided in town. Yoongi walked into the kitchen, getting a cup of water and heating up his food that you left for him.

While his food was heating up, he walked into the bedroom and cleared his throat, you looking over your shoulder at him before sitting up and smiling. “How was practice?” You grabbed the giant shirt from the bed and quickly slipped it on before standing up, causing Holly to jump off the bed and walk past Yoongi into the living room, probably wanting more sleep.

“It was good. Come in the kitchen, I wanna show you something...I like the braids.” He grabbed your hand, pulling you along with him into the kitchen. He took his food from the microwave and sat it at the island. You took a seat, your eyes moving to look up at him as he came to stand between your legs and kiss you, cupping your cheeks. You can taste the bitterness of coffee that he had throughout the day and he tasted the mint flavored toothpaste. He pulled away, and sat down to start eating his dinner.

“How was Holly? Did you open the store today?” He asked, biting into the giant piece of broccoli.

“He was fine, we went for a walk. Yes and no, I opened it for a few hours before closing to go to my hair appointment since it was a bit of a drive.” You moved the box braid that was falling in your face to the side and watched him while he nodded and devoured his food. You passed him his water and he hummed before digging into his pocket and turning to face you.

“Give me your left hand.” He placed the box on the counter and you gasped, staring at it and then staring at him before quickly giving him your freshly manicured hand. He opened the box which revealed a black diamond ring with white diamond throughout the band, illuminating the darkness of the ring. “I wanna make sure this fits.” He took it out and slid it onto your ring finger.

How smooth of him. You loved the way it was sparkling in the kitchen light, smiling at it before looking at him and leaning over to kiss him. “I love it. It’s beautiful.” You mumbled against his lips before pulling away and looking down at the rock on your finger again. “Just like you, Y/N. I want you to know that. When you’re upset or even happy, I want you to know that you’re beautiful. I’m not very good at this whole romantic thing but I want to try with you and to let you know that I’m here.” He drank more of his water before kissing the back of your hand.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, fluttering at his confession to always be there for you. That’s all you’ve ever wanted from anyone. It may not have worked out the way you pictured it but you were thankful for him, especially over the past couple of months you spent with him.

“Go in the room, I’m gonna clean up and shower and I’ll meet you.” Standing from his seat, he grabbed his plate and cup and went to the sink to clean them. You walked back into the room, rubbing over the ring while sitting on the edge of the bed. This was real and he really loved you. He might not have said it yet but you could feel it.

He was it for you. You had your issues and he had his, but he put his aside to help you with yours and for that, you couldn’t have been more thankful. Dealing with your Bipolar Disorder alone was the toughest obstacle in life you ever had to face and now, someone was willing to help you through it and let you know that they were there for you. You want to get help, especially if the first five years of you two being married worked out. You wanted to give him children one day but you wanted to be stable first. You owed it to yourself and now to Yoongi, who has been calm with you even if he does get frustrated with your moods sometimes.

He walked into the bathroom while you made up the bed and looked over yourself in the full length mirror. Turning your body from side to side. You were making progress with your weight, you definitely made sure you weren’t gaining another pound more. You had a great shape, but the extra weight made you a little insecure sometimes. You had a few tattoos here and there all over your body which Yoongi did point out that he liked.

You didn’t realize how long you were staring in the mirror until Yoongi walked back into the room with a pair of boxers on, staring at you from his side of the bed. “Y/N, what are you doing?” He plugged up his phone to charge while waiting for you to answer.

Turning from the mirror, you shook your head and climbed into bed next to him. “I was just…” You chewed on your lower lip for a second, causing him to tsk and lean over to place a soft kiss against your lips. “You look fine. I told you to stop that.” He was referring to you staring too hard at yourself in the mirror. He caught you doing it a few times and after a while he had to speak up about it.

“I can’t help it. I’m trying.” You huffed and turned to turn off the light. Climbing under the blankets after tying your braids up and laying down. Yoongi joins you and presses his face into the back of your neck, pressing small kisses to your skin. You closed your eyes at the feeling, his lips moving to the side of your neck. His hands moved up and down your waist, sliding down to grip your thigh.

“Look at me.” He whispered.

You turned around slowly, your eyes meeting his. He brushed his thumb over your bottom lip and connected your lips together. Slowly rolling on top of you to settle his lower body between your legs, he parted your lips with his tongue, a groan leaving both of you. The kiss went from sweet to hunger, your body heating up and our hips bucking when he moved his hips into yours. Your hands resting on his shoulders, your fingernails raking through his wheat colored hair.

His lips moved along your jaw, neck and chest, moving down until he sucked one nipple into his mouth, his thumb and index pulling and pinching the other. Your breathing picked up, groaning as he circled your nipple with his tongue before doing the same with the other until he was moving his lips across your stomach. He pulled off both your pajama bottoms and panties, tossing them on the floor along with the blanket. Your eyes shot open when he kissed between your thighs, the panic setting in before you closed your legs, his head moving up before you crushed him with your thighs.

He glared at you, taking hold of your knees and forcing your legs apart. “Keep them open, baby…” He kisses the inside of your thigh again and it shoots right to your throbbing pussy.

“You don’t have to-holy fuck.” You moaned as he licked up from your entrance to your clit, chuckling at your reaction.

“Realx, this is my specialty. Let me take you on a trip, jagiya.” His tongue circled your clit while you glanced down at him. Your hands now hold onto the sheets since the blanket was thrown off the bed. You thank the heavens your door was closed, knowing Holly would just run in and ruin everything by climbing onto the bed.

Yoongi wrapped his arms around your thighs, making sure they stayed open as he buried his face in you, prodding his tongue inside of you and going back to suckling on your bundle of nerves.

You tossed your head back, your back arching as sweet moans fell from your lips, hands moving to grip his hair, not too tight but enough for him to moan, the vibrations going straight to your core and aiding in getting you closer to your peak.

“So sweet, my sweet jagiya...dripping for me...you taste so good baby.” He fucked you with his tongue, his thumb moving to rub circles over your clit. Your eyes rolled back, hips rolling into his mouth.

“I’m gonna cum...please please please…”

Your grip on his hair became a little tighter which made him work harder. He rubbed two fingers against your pussy lips, coating them in your essence before sliding them inside of you and wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud, flicking his tongue against while his fingers curved inside of you, pumping fast while he kept his cat-like eyes on you, groaning every time your walls clenched around his fingers.

Your legs trembled, begging him to keep going until you snapped and went still as your orgasm washed over you, causing you to lose sight for a few seconds as he removed his fingers and continued to lick up the mess you made, his tongue still moving inside of you and over your sensitive and swollen clit. His one hand keeping your legs open.

Kissing back up your body he waited for you to come down from your high before kissing you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. He quickly pulled down his boxers, pulling away from you to turn you around.

“On your knees baby…” He rubbed his hands over your hips as you got onto your knees, resting on your elbows. He dick, hard and ready, sliding through your folds to make it easier for him to slide into you.

Lining himself up at your entrance, he slowly pulled you back on his length, licking his lips as your hole swallowed every single inch of him.

“Please fuck me…” You begged, already pushing your hips back and bringing them forward. He growled, gripping your hips harder and set a moderate pace, thrusting his hips into you, pushing your legs further apart. He spread your ass cheeks apart, breathing heavily as he watched where you were connected.

“You gonna cum again, huh? Gonna make a big mess for me?” He snapped his hips harder into you. Your eyes squeezed shut, your walls tightening around him as he pushed deeper into you. You buried your face into the mattress, moaning and whining as you got thrust forward and pulled back.

He picked up speed, pistoning his hips into you, causing you both to let out incoherent noises, his nails digging into your soft flesh.

“Fuck...I’m gonna cum...you’re so fucking tight.” He groaned.

Your legs trembled once more, the tight feeling in your stomach coming back as you lifted your head up and grunted into your arms that were folded in front of you. Feeling your orgasm hit you for the second time, you felt your legs collapsing on you, trying to find the strength to hold on as Yoongi’s hips stuttered until he released, coating your walls. He pulled out, kissing the middle of your back and watching as his seed slid down your thighs. He pressed a kiss to your ass cheek before getting off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom.

You laid down on your stomach, gasping when you felt him press a warm cloth to your sensitive area to wipe you up, he cleaned your inner thighs as well before taking the cloth back into the bathroom and coming back to join you on the bed. He picked up the blanket and put it around you both, pulling you onto his chest.

“We’ll change the sheets tomorrow.” He breathed, kissing your forehead and tilting your chin up to kiss you.

You sighed against his lips, caressing the side of his face. It felt perfect with him. You know you weren’t perfect and you didn’t try to be, but with Yoongi, it felt perfect.

💮

“Look at that thing, it’s beautiful!” Jungkook’s wife gasped, holding your hand up and stared at the onyx diamond sitting on it. “It’s so pretty and classy.” She looked at you with a big smile. “I really like it. I can’t believe we all got rings that are the same color as their mics.” You looked down at her purple ring, smiling.

She put a finger up to your lips and nodded towards Namjoon’s wife who was holding her baby. “Namjoon didn’t get her one yet...maybe we should ask the boys to help him?” She asked and you nodded.

“I can smell the tension between them. Everyone can. Hobi and his wife said they heard them arguing a few times since they live next to each other. How can they argue when they have that sweet little baby?” She said. You just listened and nodded, watching Joon’s wife play with her daughter, smiling and talking to her.

You wanted that one day. “Are you guys thinking about having one?” She asked. You looked at her and smiled. “Not right now, maybe later on down the road.” You applied more lip gloss your lips.

“Same here. Kookie and I are still pretty young so we’re gonna wait too. With comebacks and concerts, plus he just wants to enjoy his video games for now.” She chuckled until she felt Jungkook scoop her up from behind and carry her over to the shoot.

Yoongi took your lip gloss from you and put it in his pocket. “Anymore and your lips are gonna look like they’re melting off. What were you two talking about?” He asked, grabbing your hand and pulling you over to the photo set. “Babies. About how we’re gonna wait to have one, she said so too. Oh, Yoongi?” You lowered your voice.

He raised his eyebrows at you. You looked around before moving closer to him. “You should talk to Namjoon. Moon (Joon’s wife’s nickname) is the only one without a ring and Star (Hobi’s wife) said her and Hoseok can hear them arguing. Maybe you can help him out?” You asked.

He nodded and kissed the back of your hand. “I’ll talk to him soon. I talked to him a few days ago but maybe me and Hobi’s advice hasn’t kicked in yet.”

After the shoot, everyone decided to have dinner together before parting ways. You returned home, Holly back at Yoongi’s brother’s house for the week. You yawned and turned around to Yoongi, placing your arms around his neck. He buries his face into your neck and sighs heavily. “I’m sleepy. Can we sleep?” He asked. You kissed the side of his head and giggled. “I’m sleepy too. Come on, let’s get some sleep.” It’s your turn to kiss the back of his hand before walking into the room with him.

After you both shower and change into pajamas, you cuddle up to him and run your fingers through his hair. “I start my therapy soon. I found a really nice lady in the city.” You spoke softly, him turning his head to look down at you on his chest. “You want me to go with you?” He asked, rubbing your back under your tank top.

“Only if you want to, I don’t wanna keep you from work but I’ll be okay.”

“I’m coming with you.” He spoke up. You smiled and looked up at him.

“Okay...thank you.” You punished up to kiss him and tugged on his lower lip. He sighed and turned over on top of you.

He nipped at your bottom lip and kissed you again. “Look at what you started. Now it’s gonna be a long night for the both of us.”

You smirked up at him and bit your lip.

“It’s a good thing you have no work tomorrow.”

“But the V Live..”

#arranged marriage #BTS suga #bts imagines #bts smut #min yoongi #bts yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagine #bts poc #bts x reader #bts x poc reader #bts x poc #bts x black reader #ambw #bts ambw #kpop poc #pockpop #btspoc #pocxbts

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calumance · 4 years

Text

Practice Makes Perfect - C.H.

Warnings: fluff, sexual tension

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You can get pregnant three weeks after having a baby, but for you an Calum, it took six months.

A/N: Hi! This was a request that you can find here. This is very loosely edited only because I wanted to get it up because I’ve been working on this for multiple days and I’m just really excited for you all to read it. Sorry it took me a long time to post! Hope you like it! 🥰🥰 Feedback and requests are always welcome!! (Want to be added to my tag list? Let me know!)

Masterlist

Today was the last postpartum checkup after having Bailey. Normally, the checkups stop after twelve weeks, but with how horrible this third pregnancy had been, your doctor made it a point to check up on you for six months. As you sat on the table in the doctor’s office, you couldn’t help but feel nervous, even though there was really no reason to be nervous. In an attempt to calm yourself, you looked at your hands and thought about Calum taking care of all three kids by himself.

He had done it before, but always made a point to tell you how glad he was to see you when you got back home. The last time you left him alone was when you had decided to have a girls night with Alex. When she has suggested going out, you hesitated, not sure you wanted to leave Calum to do everything himself. “No, you deserve to have a night out, you and Alex should have a great time, I’ll be fine.” He said with a shrug, “I mean, Aiden plays video games in his room most of the time. Logan is usually pretty quiet too, I’ve got this.” He smiled a confident smile and you nodded, agreeing to the girls night out.

When you got home, it was late, but not so late that you thought Calum would be asleep. Alex followed you into the house and it was eerily quiet, even though every light in the house was on. Alex made a face and shrugged as you looked at her and she shut your front door. The sound of your heels clacking against the hardwood floor echoed through the house. Once you got to Aiden’s door, you cracked it a bit to peek inside. Aiden was asleep, tucked cozily into his bed. Across the hallway, you cracked Logan’s door a bit to find him asleep as well. Again, you and Alex exchanged a look and made your way down the hallway to your bedroom. Confusion washed over you as you found the bedroom empty.

Quickly, you made your way back down the hallway, searching the rest of the house for Calum and Bailey. When you stepped into the living room, you stopped, stopping Alex too. Calum was asleep on the couch, his back pressed to the couch cushions, and one hand draped over his stomach, the other resting on the sleeper that Bailey was sleeping in. Alex put her hand on your shoulder and bid you a goodnight before tiptoeing out of the living room and through the front door.

Once Alex was gone, you reached down and took off you shoes, setting them to the side. Even though you had taken your shoes off, you still tiptoed over to Calum. You rested your hand on his chest as you sat on the edge of the couch next to him. Before waking him up, you checked on Bailey who looked happy as ever to be sleeping in her favorite sleeper. To wake up Calum, you leaned down and started to peck soft kisses to his cheek, jaw, and lips. He groaned before finally opening his eyes and looking at you. After he realized that he had fallen asleep, he sat up and ran his hand through his hair. “Hey, baby, how was your girls night?” His voice was hoarse and it made your knees weak.

He looked down at his sleeping daughter and you continued to watch him, “It was good, how was your night here?” You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair, his eyes closing, his head leaning into your touch.

Calum cleared his throat before responding. “It was good, the boys were quiet most of the night. I’m so glad you’re home, though. We’re too good of a team for me to do this by myself.” He said with a chuckle as he leaned towards you and wrapped himself around you, sleep starting to take over him again.

A knock at the door shook you from your thoughts. The doctor walked in just a few seconds after you looked up at the door. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Hood, how are you doing today?” She greeted you with a warm smile, nothing but a pen in her hands. You nodded as a reply to her as she moved through the room to sit on the rolling stool. “Good, and how’s everyone at home? They’re all doing good as well?” You nodded again and smiled, “Good, now the not so fun part.” She said as she rolled over to you and pulled the stirrups out, instructing you to put your feet up.

After she quickly checked how the healing was going, she allowed you to put your feet down and cover yourself. She tossed her gloves into the trash and washed her hands before turning to you. “Looks like everything is healed up down there, have you and your husband tried having sexual intercourse since the baby was born?”

Conversations like this were weird, because even though she was a doctor and had the right to know, it was still very private and completely weird to tell her. You swallowed and nervously twisted the rings on your fingers around, “Um, nothing that involved down here,” you vaguely motioned to your nether regions and swallowed again, “Since I wasn’t sure if it was healed.” You cringed not wanting to explain anything else to her.

She nodded in understanding and you let out a breath once you knew she wasn’t going to ask you to explain anything else. “Well, everything is healed up down there so feel free to start having intercourse again. You’re looking great as well, you have been exercising and eating right as we discussed?” You nodded and she continued to talk you through everything that came along with these checkups, but it was nothing short of a relief when she said her last goodbye and that there was no need to schedule another appointment.

As you drove home, all you could think about was the fact that the doctor gave you the okay to have sex again. The past six months have been absolute torture for not only you, but for Calum as well, not being able to fully enjoy each other in the way you wish you could. It was like your body was deprived of his touch and the way it felt was he was pushed up against you, and his body became one with yours. As you pulled into the driveway, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and hastily made your way into the house.

When you found Calum, he was in his studio, his headphones were on his head, but one side of the headphones were pushed off so he could hear the baby monitor sitting off to the side of his computer. As soon as he looked up at you, a smile spread across his face and he immediately took his headphones off. Before he could say anything to you, you spoke first. “Where are the boys and Bailey?” Your heart was racing, and the heat in your core was quickly making its way up your body and into your face.

Calum pointed at the baby monitor, “Bailey’s napping. I think Aiden and Logan are in their rooms doing whatever it is that they do to keep themselves occupied.” Calum’s eyebrows furrowed as you closed the door to his studio and locked it.

Quickly, you leaned down and pressed your lips against his, holding either side of his face in your hands. After finding the will to pull your lips off of his, you uttered, “Doctor said it’s all healed up.” Calum’s eyes widened as he took the hint and wrapped his arms around you and connected his lips to your as he carried you to the sofa at the back of the studio.

***

A week had gone by since your last doctor’s appointment, and there was rarely a moment where you and Calum didn’t have your hands on each other. If the kids were otherwise occupied, then so were you. Today was no different, you both woke up long before the time of Bailey’s morning feeding. His hands were in your hair, your legs were tangled with his, his mouth traveled over every space of skin he could come into contact with. You leaned your head away from him to give him more access to the space by your collar bone and neck. As he gently nibbled on your skin, you wanted to let out a moan, letting him know how good that felt. Instead of a moan, you were overcome with an absolute tidal wave of nausea.

Feeling the stomach acid starting to burn your throat, you started to hastily wiggle your way out of Calum’s hold. He was asking you what was wrong, what was going on, if you were alright, but all you cared about was making it to the toilet on time. Once you released everything that had been sitting in your stomach, you flushed the toilet and went to the sink to brush your teeth. Calum came into the bathroom, his eyebrows furrowed. He placed his hand on your back as he inspected your face and your body to make sure you were okay. “Are you okay? Did you eat something bad last night?” He asked as he ran his fingers through your hair in an attempt to soothe you.

As you vigorously brushed your teeth, you shook your head. You felt fine, your stomach wasn’t upset, he ate the same thing your ate, so if it was the food, he’d be sick too. The thoughts continued to run through your head as you spit into the sink. Just as you wiped the excess toothpaste off your lips, it hit you. This is exactly how you felt when you found out you were pregnant with all three of your children. As you looked up at Calum, it was almost as if he was reading your thoughts, “Oh no,” is all you could get out before both you and Calum started searching through the house to see if there was an extra pregnancy test lying around the house. There had to be one somewhere, considering you found out you were pregnant with Bailey only fifteen months ago.

You opened drawer after drawer, Calum dug through cabinets and multiple different make up bags that held other contents besides make up. “I found one!” He exclaimed as he pulled the wrapped stick from a makeup back full of tampons. He chuckled and you gave him a quizzical look as you grabbed the test from him. “It’s just funny because it’s in a bag full of the thing you use when you know you’re not pregnant.” You rolled your eyes and cracked a smile as you ripped it open and headed towards the toilet.

The stick was sitting on the edge of the sink, you were nervously biting your nails and scrolling through your phone. “Calum, it says you can get pregnant three weeks after having a baby.” You continued to scroll through your google search while shaking your head, “Why weren’t we being careful?” You finally looked up at him, not necessarily upset, more just flabbergasted that you hadn’t thought of this possibility.

Calum shrugged, “Because we were horny, my love.” He smiled, trying to crack a joke to lighten up the situation. The timer on Calum’s phone went off and both of you jumped up to look at the stick lying on the edge of the sink. Clear as day, the stick had two solid lines, telling both you and Calum that you were in fact pregnant again. Calum snorted as he let out another bold laugh, “Fourth times a charm, right?” You cracked a smile and shook your head, letting your head fall into your hands.

Immediately after the test came back positive you scheduled another doctor’s appointment. This time Calum decided to go with you, mostly because he needed to hear for himself just how easy it is to get pregnant again after having a baby. He was sitting off to the side, his left ankle crossed over his right knee, his phone in his hand, his eyes locked on the screen. You were sat on the paper covered doctor’s bench with your trembling hands in your lap. It was about ten minutes ago that they had come in to draw a bit of blood and do a blood test to confirm if you were pregnant or not. As you sat there waiting, you couldn’t help but think it had been closer to an hour that you were sitting there, not ten minutes.

There was a knock on the door and both you and Calum froze. After a millisecond, Calum sat up and shoved his phone into his pocket and ran his hand through his hair. The doctor came in and your heart was pounding so fast that you could swear the doctor could see if beating on the outside. She looked at the papers in her hands and chuckled, “Yep, you’re pregnant again.” She looked over the papers and eyed both you and Calum, not another word coming from her.

You looked over at Calum with a half-smile on your face, not because you weren’t happy, you had always wanted a lot of kids, but because the thought of having a baby to raise while being pregnant is terrifying. Calum started asking questions that had been running through his head since you had taken the test. You sat in silence and ran the thoughts through your own head. Thoughts about how you were going to tell Aiden and Logan, thoughts about how you were going to arrange the rooms, thoughts about how you might have to buy a bigger house as the babies get older. The doctor asked you if you were alright to shake you from your thoughts. You blinked a few times and smiled, “I’m great.”

During the car ride home, Calum had started to bounce ideas off of you about how to tell the boys. He wanted to be creative, but you just wanted to be straight forward. Aiden has gone through enough creative pregnancy news that he might actually throw up when finding out he’s going to get another sibling. Although Calum was hesitant, he agreed to just sit down and tell them. You sat on the coffee table in front of them while they looked between you and Calum. Calum was handling this better than you because he was calm and collected, while your legs bounced uncontrollably. You exchanged a look with Calum and Calum took the hint. He cleared his throat and looked at the two boys, “Mama and I ae having another baby.” He kept it simple, he kept it short, sweet, and to the point. It was what you wanted, but your heart still sank into your stomach.

Aiden had very little reaction, a nod of his head and a small smile pulling at the right corner of his mouth. Logan’s eyebrows were furrowed and he was switching between looking at you and Calum. “She’s already here,” Logan said, lifting an arm to point towards the hallway that lead to all the bedrooms.

Everything was quiet for a minute, Aiden even looked at you like he was trying to figure out how to explain it to him. Calum looked down and cleared his throat again before looking into Logan’s eyes. “Yes, Bailey is here, but Mama and I are going to have another baby. You’re going to have a third sibling.” Calum raised his eyebrows as Logan looked over at Aiden while kicking his feet.

It took a second for Logan to look away from Aiden, but until he did, you nervously chewed on the side of your finger. Logan’s hazel eyes locked with yours again and he shrugged, “That’s cool, can I go back to my room now?” He looked back at Calum and smiled, his legs still swinging back and forth.

Calum looked at you and you exchanged the same look with him. You both nodded and Logan pushed himself off the couch and ran back down the hallway towards his room. Aiden stopped and gave you both a hug before following Logan, but exited the hallway into his own room. Once it was quiet in the house, you turned to Calum, “That is the opposite of how I expected that to go.” You said with a laugh while running your hand over your forehead.

With a chuckle, Calum gently placed his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him. He kissed the side of your head before your dropped your head onto his shoulder, “Yeah, but I guess that’s what happens when you raise some pretty awesome kids. Maybe that’s why we get to do it a fourth time. You know, because practice makes perfect.” He chuckled at the same time you did. Maybe having a fourth baby was a bit intimidating, but at least you get to raise four kids with the best, most amazing man on the face of the Earth.

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

Tag list: @mantlereid @notinthesameguey @viiirg0 @wheniminouterspace @thinkofmehlgh @another-lonely-heart @limer-encia @itsmytimetoodream @babyoria @treatallwithkindness @karajaynetoday

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enigmalynne · 3 years

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Quarantine Kitchen - an SPN FanFic featuring Crowley

Title – Quarantine Kitchen Pairings – Crowley, Sam, Dean Word Count – 2,467 Warnings - None Square filled – Crowley Prompt: A villain’s plans are thwarted by a virus rampaging the globe. Now that they must remain inside and their plans have been ruined, they’re forced to pick up a hobby.

Crowley stormed into his chambers, the fury rolling off him.

“Somebody find Pestilence. Search every hospital and clinic on this God-forsaken planet and find that bloody horseman. Only he has the power to create a disease that would shut everything down and force everyone to remain in their homes,” he bellowed. Demons around him cowered. Crowley looks around at the many demons who weren’t moving. “What are you waiting for? Go!”

“Sire, it… according to the news reports, it wasn’t Pestilence that did it,” one of the demons stuttered out. Crowley turned his narrowed eyes to the cowering demon who stepped forward to speak.

“What the bloody hell are you on about?” he asked. “Who else could have possibly done this if it wasn’t Pestilence?”

“Well,” the demon said, feeling a little braver. “The news reports are saying it came from China.”

“China!?”

“Yes, sir… It’s related to China and a bat, or a monkey or something,” the demon explained, looking around to the others for support. Another demon nodded.

“Yeah, and it’s all over the world. Not just here,” the other demon said. Crowley turned and faced them, pointing at the demon.

“You’re telling me that some wanker in China played with a bat or a monkey, and he caused this disease? And it’s all over the world? Is everyone shut down??” Crowley raged. The demons took a step back, fearing for their lives, as they nodded.

“Pretty much, yeah,” one of them said. Crowley’s eyes narrowed.

“Show me.”

A few hours later, Crowley sat at his ornate desk in dejection. Not only did he learn about how bad this coronavirus was, he realized just how checked out with national news he had become during his battles with the Winchester brothers.

“Their hoarding toilet paper and bleach,” he said, reading articles on his computer. The demon sitting next to him nodded.

“They are telling people they can only leave their homes to get food if they can’t get it delivered. Thousands of people have already died from this,” the demon said. Crowley scowled as he continued scanning the news page.

“Why didn’t we think of something like this?” he muttered under his breath. The demon beside him began to respond, causing Crowley to throw a hand up. “It was a rhetorical question! How long are we supposed to be secluded in our homes?”

“We... I don’t know?” the demon responded timidly. Crowley turned narrowed eyes toward him. “There hasn’t been a time defined yet. Just that we are to quarantine until further notice to keep ourselves safe from catching the virus ourselves.”

“Bollocks.”

One month turned into two, then four, then six. Crowley was starting to go stir crazy with being restricted to only his chambers. He’d already been through his Netflix queue, a streaming service his subjects set up for him. He’s read everything in his library. The internet was boring for a man like him, video games left him disinterested, and killing his demons was leaving him less and less satisfied.

“Why not pick up a hobby?” one of his most loyal subjects, Nya, asked him.

“A hobby,” Crowley deadpanned. Nya nodded.

“Sure. There are all kinds of things we could try our hands at,” she suggested with a shrug. Crowley turned to her with a raised brow.

“What do you suggest?” he questioned her.

“Well, there’s painting or writing. If you want to do something more challenging, you could try your hand at sewing your own clothing,” Nya said with a smirk. Crowley glared at her with fire in his eyes. “Didn’t think so. What about baking bread?”

“Baking bread?”

“Yeah,” Nya said. “It’s a big thing right now topside. Bread and other baked goods are pretty scarce because of all the hoarding, so more and more people are trying their hand at making it themselves.”

“Bread,” Crowley said again. Nya nodded.

“We’re running out of people for you to kill, Sire. Let’s try it.”

“Fine. Let’s go.”

It was a challenge for Nya and Crowley at first. Gathering the ingredients to bake their first loaf of bread was a challenge since shelves at the stores were empty. Thankfully, Nya was able to track down things like flour and yeast. After they had all their ingredients, the two went into the top-of-the-line kitchen Crowley had installed and got to work.

Following the instructions Nya printed off the internet, Crowley went through the steps of making a loaf of banana bread. As it baked in the oven, Nya put together a Sourdough starter.

“The hell is that?” Crowley asked her.

“It’s the starter for sourdough,” she replied. Crowley lifted a brow.

“Sourdough needs a starter? It isn’t a car, my dear,” he replied. Nya smirked at him as she stirred the flour and warm water with a fork.

“It’s so cute you think you know anything about baking,” Nya said. “I’ll take care of the starter, and in 7 days we’ll be ready to make our sourdough.”

“No, you don’t get to dismiss me, bint,” Crowley snarked. “You’re the one who got me into this baking mess. You explain this.” Nya laughed, the sound light and easy as it echoed in the kitchen. The sound startled the King of Hell, though he didn’t show it.

“Alright, alright. Don’t get your panties in a twist,” she replied. She then went on to explain why they needed a starter and the science behind the baking. Crowley listened curiously, his attitude shifting slightly.

“Where did you learn to bake?” he asked suddenly, interrupting her explanations. Nya’s smile shifted to something more nostalgic.

“Before. A long time ago, before crossroad deals and hell,” she said, turning and putting the jar of sourdough starter in a cabinet next to the refrigerator. “It was something I did when my family was still very young and very new. It makes the time go by very quickly.”

Just then, a timer rang out, and Nya turned to the oven. Crowley watched as Nya picked up the oven mitts, opened the oven door, and removed the pan of banana bread. The smell that came from the browned bread was intoxicating, and Crowley’s mouth instantly started watering.

Nya took the loaf out of the pan and sliced two thick pieces of bread, setting each on a plate. She placed a fork on one before handing it to Crowley, a brow quirked. He took it eagerly.

“Bon appetite,” Nya said, digging into her piece. The light moan that came from Crowley as he chewed his first bite brought warmth to Nya’s chest.

“Okay,” Crowley said. “Maybe there is something to this baking thing.”

While the two waited for the sourdough starter to prepare, Nya showed Crowley how to bake some of her other favorite things: muffins, brownies, easy loaves of bread, cookies, and various types of scones (which was a big hit for the British demon). It was the day before the starter would be ready when Crowley came in with a request.

“Can you show me how to make a pie?” he questioned. Nya looked at him in surprise as she tied on her apron.

“A pie?” she asked. Crowley nodded a little self-consciously.

“Yeah,” he said. “Do you know how to make one?” Nya nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, I know how to make one. I’m just curious why you want to make one. We have plenty of sweets already,” she said, waving a hand at the mountains of pastry boxes that littered the kitchen counters. Crowley bristled and lifted his chin, but Nya spoke before he could speak.

“What kind of pie do you want to try?” she asked.

“Apple,” he said instantly. Nya nodded. She pulled out a notepad and started writing down a list of items they needed, then handed it to Crowley.

“Get me those items, and we can make an apple pie,” she said with a smirk. Crowley nodded and shouted for one of his lesser demons, sending him on a shopping trip.

An hour and a half later, the two were eating slices of homemade apple pie while a second was baking in the oven. The kitchen soon filled with the scent of apples, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Crowley had his eyes closed as he chewed a bite of the pie. Nya turned and saw him, freezing in her actions.

“Hey!” she snapped. Crowley startled, eyes opening wide in fear.

“I told you to wait for the whipped cream!” she snarked. Nya started stirring the whip inside the metal bowl she had in her hand again while glaring at Crowley. His expression turned sheepish as he finished chewing and swallowed the bite of the pie.

“I’m sorry, love,” Crowley purred. “It just smelled so good, and I made it makes it taste so much better.”

Nya smirked at him in understanding, setting the bowl down between them. She scooped a dollop of the whipped cream, dropping it on top of his piece of the pie. She smirked before doing the same to her piece.

“Now try it,” she said, picking up her fork. Crowley scooped up a bit of the white cream then stabbed a large section of the apple pie. The cool cream against the warm apples and flaky crust melted in his mouth, and a slight moan escaped him.

“I get why Squirrel loves his pies so much if all of them taste like this,” Crowley groaned out, digging into another bite. Nya’s smile turned to understand.

“I thought that’s why we did this pie,” she said softly. Crowley shot the woman a look, and she gave him a shrug.

“You have a sweet spot for them; I get it. Your secret’s safe with me,” she said, just as the timer started to go off. She stuffed another bite of her slice of pie into her mouth before turning to stop the timer and grab the oven mitts. She pulled the pie out, admiring the lattice pattern she walked Crowley through making.

“Besides,” she started, showing Crowley the pie. “Look what we get out of it.” Crowley looked over the pie as Nya slid the third one into the oven and set the timer. Crowley smiled, feeling proud of himself in a completely different way.

“Okay! Today’s the day, Crowley!” Nya said. “Ready to make some sourdough?”

“Just tell me what the steps are,” he said, tying his apron around his waist. The two moved fluidly in the kitchen together, Nya giving him instructions and Crowley doing everything smoothly.

“Now squish the mixture together with your hands,” Nya said. Crowley gave her a disgusted look causing her to laugh. “Just get your hands dirty, big man.”

“Let it sit for 30 minutes for autolyze, and then we let it rise. While that’s happening, we can make something else if you want,” Nya said as Crowley washed his hands. He dried his hands with a dish towel, tossing it over his shoulder when he finished.

“Let’s make another batch of the dough. Then, we can make some more scones, and perhaps some clotted cream,” he suggested. Nya nodded as the two got to work. Four hours later, there were orange and cranberry scones cooling on some racks in the corner with icing drizzled on them, the cream was in the fridge, and they were moving back to the bread. Crowley and Nya had their dough separated for two loafs each.

“You can set it in any different way you like. You can make it a round loaf or an oval one or set it for any design you like,” Nya said. Crowley made one of his loaves into a round one inside a Dutch oven, scoured through the center; the other put in a loaf pan. Nya chose to make individual loaves with hers.

Roughly an hour later, the first loaf was out of the oven and ready for tasting. Crowley sliced the first loaf, steam rising from the bread filling the kitchen with a delicious scent. He handed a slice to Nya, and they both took bites of the bread. Crowley’s eyes lit up at the taste of the bread.

“This is amazing,” he said. Nya nodded.

“And you made it yourself,” she said with a smile.

The two spent the rest of the day cooking their sourdough. By the end of the day, they had loaves, buns, and rolls that were all made from the sourdough starter Nya had made. She showed Crowley how to feed the starter so it would continue to grow, and he could make more bread later.

“We need to get rid of some of this stuff; we’re getting a little full in here,” Nya said, taking a bite of a scone as she looked around the kitchen. Crowley looked around himself, a smile forming on his face.

“Who sent this?” Sam asked. Dean showed him the card.

“Crowley,” he replied, looking over the giant basket of baked goods. There were muffins and scones, bread and rolls, brownies and cookies. “Said he was going crazy during the quarantine and found a hobby. Needed to clear out some space.”

“And he… made all of this?” Sam asked, looking over the pastries. Dean shrugged.

“I guess? Wait, is that a pie?!” he responded, snatching the apple pie from the basket. Sure enough, there in the mix was an apple pie. Dean wasted no time ripping off the plastic wrap. He brought the pie to his face and inhaled deeply, groaning out his pleasure.

“You’re not gonna eat that, are you?” Sam questioned. Dean looked at him incredulously.

“Damn right, I am, Sammy. It’s pie,” Dean said, turning to get a fork. Sam raised a brow at his back.

“From CROWLEY!” he shouted.

“He’s not going to kill us by sending us a care package, have a little faith. Read the card,” Dean shouted from the kitchen. Sam sighed, picking up the card and reading.

Moose and Squirrel –

I’ve discovered a new hobby thanks to this bloody mess China has given us. The more I learn, the more I make, and it seems I’ve made too much. Perhaps this can be a temporary truce until we can leave our homes again.

Cheers – Crowley

“I don’t know who taught him to bake, but his pie is amazing,” Dean said with a mouth full. He plopped down in a chair, kicking his feet up on the table next to the basket. Sam shook his head, tossing the card on the table with a sigh. The scones did look good, he thought. He grabbed one that looked like it had orange zest in it and took a tentative bite.

“Wow,” he muttered, looking at his brother. Dean nodded.

“I know,” Dean said.

“So, what do you want to learn next?” Nya asked. Crowley just smiled.

#spnmixedbingo #spn crack #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural #spn crowley #crowley #Dean #dean winchester #sam winchester #Sam #sam and dean #Baking #Quarantine #quarantine kitchen #Alton Brown Inspired This One #I wanna Bake Sourdough Now #review #I need a beta

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system76 · 3 years

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UYPP: Cameron Nagle's Starting Small Podcast

The System76 Unleash Your Potential Program selected six winners this year to receive a System76 computer to help them pursue their next project. This week we spoke with UYPP winner Cameron Nagle about the Starting Small Podcast, in which he hosts, records, and edits interviews with CEOs from all walks of life.

Tell us about the Starting Small Podcast.

I started Starting Small pre-COVID. When we launched in 2020, my plan was to tell stories of entrepreneurs and their upbringing, education, and the story of their overall brand. I had my first guest Chuck Surack out of Indiana, the CEO of Sweetwater Sound, a music retailer. That set my guests at a pretty high caliber from the start, because Sweetwater Sound is the largest music retailer in the world.

Once COVID struck, I had to figure out a way to interview remotely, and that’s what allowed me to really branch off and connect with these amazing entrepreneurs from across the globe like Reebok, North Face, Cards Against Humanity, and more. And ever since then, the podcast has been going great. My audience—and myself at the same time as a business student—has been able to learn so much from these entrepreneurs. My own personal network has grown exponentially, and I’m connecting with people I normally wouldn’t have been able to connect with without this podcast.

There’s a lot of people here who would be interested in hearing that Cards Against Humanity interview.

Max Tempkin was an amazing guest, a very early guest of mine. He has a really cool story.

Are you looking to move to in-person interviews?

My initial thought was to interview locally because I didn’t really know much about Zoom when I first started the podcast. Originally I was going to keep my interviews to a two-hour radius from my home, but my plan now after having some success interviewing remotely is to continue doing it remotely, as long as I’m still connecting to these executives and they’re open to it. There are some circumstances where I might drive or fly to a guest if the opportunity arises, but remotely it’s been going great and it’s super efficient for both myself and the guest.

What’s your process like for recording and editing the podcast?

For recording, I use my System76 Oryx Pro laptop. I have the guest log in to Zoom on their end and I log in on my end, and I record both sides of the audio. Once that’s recorded, we post-edit the episode and make sure the guest is okay with what they stated and the sound and everything, and then we bring it into our podcast host, which distributes everything to all the platforms. We use Podbean to distribute all of our episodes. We upload the audio and then all the copy that we want the descriptions to say, and then from there we can track all analytics and progress, and how many listens and downloads we’re getting.

What software do you use?

We record in Zoom. For editing we are currently using Pro Tools. Because I’m new to the Oryx Pro I’m still trying to figure out the editing software. After the interview I’ll take the audio and go into Pro Tools, edit, and go back in for distribution.

Is there someone who works on the podcast with you?

We have two other team members on our team. Gabby manages our social media accounts, and Kylie does PR. It’s been an amazing ride so far, and a ton of fun.

Why did you choose the Oryx Pro for this project, and how do you like it so far?

One of my friends actually owned an Oryx Pro, so I’ve used it in the past. What I recall is my own personal laptop that I had was so laggy and not up to speed when I had multiple documents open and different files open.

When I received the Oryx Pro, I was able to do multiple tasks at once, such as having multiple documents open to read for our show notes, having one of our host platforms open, having Zoom open, etc. That allows me to have much more bandwidth on this one laptop than any other laptop that I’ve ever used in the past.

How was the setup process for you?

The setup process was fairly easy. When I powered it on, the instruction walkthrough was pretty self-explanatory. I went into the settings to add a couple custom shortcuts, but other than that the setup of the laptop is very much how it would be if you were to just turn on an Oryx Pro. For someone who just buys their laptop, it’s pretty much ready for them out of the box.

How much experience do you have with Linux?

I don’t have too much experience myself recently before I received the Oryx Pro, but my family did have a mixed desktop growing up. I recall using my brother’s computer, I would play some games on their Linux system back in the day. I am fairly familiar with the software and how Linux runs, but it has been a while. I switched to Apple a few years ago and then switched back.

What’s next for the Starting Small Podcast?

We are working on transforming our podcast from audio-only to incorporating video, in order to hopefully draw in a larger audience that prefers video content. So that is definitely the next step for us. Following from there, we would be very interested in joining a network such as an NPR or other podcast network that acquires shows and be part of that network.

Where can people go to follow the podcast online?

On Instagram we’re @StartingSmallPod, and the same thing for Facebook. For listening to the episodes you can go to almost any streaming platform that hosts podcasts, such as Spotify, Apple podcasts, Pandora, and more.

And where can folks listen to your interview with System76’s own Carl Richell?

Right here!

youtube

Carl's certainly happy with his new Starting Small Podcast notebook!

Stay tuned for further updates from Cameron Nagle's Starting Small Podcast and cool projects from our other UYPP winners!

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stylesluxx · 4 years

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cold? chilling? freezing? (V) – s.rogers

[warnings: fight scene and an ounce of tension]

summary: in which y/n is a assassin turned lover | part four | part six

word count: 2,090

masterlist

You and Steve were on a jet, crossing the Indian Ocean going over the plan.

You were still rocking the white and red suit that, of course, went through a few modifications in the last couple of years. Steve wore a dark blue uniform with white and brown details. You remember the first time you saw it.

He had just gotten back to the apartment and was excited to show you. You laughed as he quickly walked into his room and changed. You set your book face down as he walked into your line of sight.

"I like this suit on you, Cap," You smiled at him. "The dark color really fits you."

"Thank you," He nodded happily. "I figured it was time for a change."

"You know, I'm getting a little tired of being Fury's janitor," Steve said, looking down at you.

"Talk to the man in charge, not me," You shrugged. "I'm just the messenger."

Agent Rumlow continued about the mission and you listened intently until Steve started to give out orders.

"Alright, I'm gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Y/N/N, you kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, you sweep aft, find the hostages, get them to the life-pods, get them out. Let's move," He instructed and you nodded.

You and Steve walked toward the back of the ship as everyone else began to gear up.

"Secure seven."

"Seven secure. So, did you make any plans with your new friend?" You inquired.

"Well, all the guys from my Barbershop Quartet are dead so, we can't hang out with them," He responded sarcastically, making you laugh.

"You really are a funny guy," You hummed and nodded your head as you slipped your fingerless gloves on.

You stuck your hands out toward Steve, like a zombie, so he could tighten the velcro.

"Maybe you can ask out that girl... the uh... the uh girl from statistics– what's her name?"

"Kristen," He answered and tapped your hands to signify he was finished.

You let your hands fall to your sides and watched him out his stupid helmet on. (You were never a fan of it.)

"Yeah her; if you asked her out, she'd probably say yes," You continued, putting a hand on your hip.

"That's why I don't ask," He said and clipped the strap of the helmet.

"Too shy or too scared?"

"Too... not interested," He shrugged.

You sighed and looked over at him as he started walking away. "Captain, this Batroc guy... he's dangerous," You warned him.

You didn't want to make it seem like you were worried about him, which you were, but you knew Steve could handle himself. You knew he could handle himself but sometimes things just go wrong.

"I'll be careful, Y/N. See you in a bit," He gave one last smile before jumping off the aircraft.

"And no parachute," You mumbled to yourself.

Soon after he jumped, you slipped on a parachute and jumped after him. You landed and took the parachute off, catching up to Steve.

"What about the nurse across the hall from us. She seems sweet and she's probably much better at tending to your wounds than I am," You suggested, making him stop in the middle of his stride and turn to you.

"I like when you tend to my wounds," He corrected you and continued to walk away. "Secure the engine room."

You nodded and tried to shake off his words as you walked to the engine room.

He liked it when you tended to his wounds? That was something you'd never forget him saying. If it wasn't obvious, Steve and you became much more acquainted with each other over the last couple of years. He might've been your first real friend that wasn't a family member. He had this homey feeling to him and while you say Steve drags you everywhere, if you wanted to truly be elsewhere, that's where you'd be. You liked being around Steve and you wanted to open up to him, you truly did, but you just couldn't find the strength to.

Telling him anything about you would mean that you'd have to be vulnerable and be able to put your pride aside. Steve was good at that, (at least with you); you knew everything about him. But you don't think you were ready to do that yet.

So, you didn't let Steve's little comment give you butterflies. You didn't want to think deeper into the comment because you knew you weren't ready for that type of vulnerability just yet.

You were walking to the engine room and you easily took out a couple of guards that happened to be in your way.

"Y/N, what's your status?" You heard Steve in your ear.

"I just took out about five idiots, you're welcome by the way–"

You saw another man and kicked the back of his kneecaps making him fall to the floor. You grabbed the back of his hand and slammed it against the ground, knocking him unconscious.

"Make that six, Captain. Oh, wait."

Two more came out and you quickly took them out with a few kicks and hitting their heads on metal poles.

"Seven and eight. Engine room secure," You confirmed and walked away from the bodies sprawled on the floor.

You walked over to a computer and took a USB from out of your pocket. You connected it to the computer and began extracting data.

"Y/N, Batroc's on the move. Circle back to Rumlow and protect the hostages," You heard Steve but ignored him, continuing the extra mission Fury gave you. "Y/N!" He panted.

He was silent for a while but you heard grunting and groans outside of the room you were in.

"Uh, this is awkward," You mumbled as Steve burst through the door and punched Batroc in the face.

You turned back to the computer and continued to look through all the files that would be of use to S.H.I.E.L.D.

"What're you doing?" Steve asked.

He got up from the floor and walked over to you, panting tiredly.

"Um maybe you need to do some breathing exercises, Cap," You teased and ignored his question.

"Rumlow needed your help. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oooh, are we swearing now?" You questioned and raised your eyebrows in shock. "I'm just backing up this hard drive if you must know."

"Our mission was to rescue hostages," He countered.

"No, that was your mission. And it looks like you've done a beautiful job."

You went to walk by him but he grabbing your arm roughly and pulled him back.

"You just jeopardized this whole operation."

"I think that's a bit dramatic. Et je ne savais pas que tu parlais français." (And I didn't know you spoke French.)

You heard him earlier talking to Batroc and it genuinely surprised you. Steve could do a lot of things and he could do them all well, but this was a surprise.

Before we could respond Batroc jumped up and ran out of the room, but now before throwing a bomb your way.

Steve hit it out the way with his shield and grabbed you by the waist. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his neck tightly before he jumped up on the tables. You took your gun out and quickly shot at the window so Steve could easily jump through it.

You groaned as you landed on the ground and looked over at Steve guiltily.

“You okay? You hurt?" He asked and looked over at you, assessing your body.

You shook your head and looked over at him to make sure he was okay.

"I'm okay," He told you as if he knew what you were doing but you just nodded. "Et juste un peu," He answered your question from earlier. (And just a little bit.)

He stood up from his spot on the floor before reaching a hand out to help you up.

—

You were back at The Triskelion in D.C. and you followed behind Steve into Fury's office.

"You just can't stop yourself from lying, can you?" He immediately hounded the man sitting behind his desk.

"Captain–" You tried to stop him but you were interrupted.

"I didn't lie. Agent Y/L/N had a different mission than yours," Fury countered.

You sighed and walked over and placed the USB on his desk, giving him a look to let him know Steve wasn't letting this go easily.

"Which you didn't feel obliged to share."

"I'm not obliged to tell you anything."

"We all need to be on the same page. Those hostages could've died, Nick. Y/N could've died."

"But I didn't," You said gently and stopped yourself from reaching over to touch his hand.

"I sent the greatest soldier in history to make sure that didn't happen," Fury argued.

"Cap, I'll see you back at the apartment," You told him before walked out the office and back to the main entrance where a car waited to take you to your residence.

—

You took a shower and switched out of your uniform and into a pair of leggings and an Iron Man t-shirt. You got Steve and yourself the same shirt because you knew he and Tony weren't the best of friends and you'd get a good laugh out of it. You would usually switch into it when Steve was annoying you but this was your last clean shirt.Steve had given you a call and told him to meet you at the museum. He liked going there to get some peace of mind and you enjoyed his company so why not go. Him going to the museum was like going for a walk in the park.

You made your way to the museum and you saw him waiting at the entrance for you.

"Captain," You smiled.

"Y/N/N," He greeted with a big smile. "This shirt again? Really? What did I do this time?"

"Nothing," You laughed. "It's my last clean shirt."

You walked by the airplanes which you looked at miraculously as if you haven't seen them 10 times by now.

"You know, you know everything about me and I know nothing about you," Steve spoke up.

You had been walking around for maybe 30 minutes now. Steve knew you didn't like to just walk around and look. You liked to look at the captions on the plaques and you wanted Steve to give you any more background information he could think of. You've probably heard it all by now but you liked it and you knew it made Steve happy. If it made Steve happy, it made you happy, but you were genuinely interested in what he had to say.

"You know enough about me," You sighed and looked up to him, crossing your hands over your chest. "Instead of getting close to me, you should be getting close to that agent down the hall."

"Agent?"

"The nurse girl. The only other blonde on the floor," You tried to explain.

"She's not an agent," He said, looking at you perplexed.

"So naïve, Mister America," You tutted jokingly. "I'm fairly new to S.H.I.E.L.D., so they don't trust me to look after you. Not that that's why I'm here, I mean you literally won't let me leave," You nudged him and giggled. "But she's in that apartment to specifically look after you."

"She told you that?"

"No, but I'm not an idiot. It's not weird to you that she's out there whenever you're out there?"

"Maybe it's just a coincidence," He shrugged.

"If you said 'oh maybe she has a crush on me,' I would've maybe entertained that thought but no. It's not a coincidence," You shook your head.

He looked over at you, eyeing you, as if not believing you.

You sighed and kept walking. You looked at a video of Steve and his friend that he calls "Bucky" laughing. You looked at it longingly; this was the hardest part of the museum for both you and Steve.

You knew Steve missed his friend and that upset you but it also reminded you of your past life. The way Steve described it, he and Bucky were practically brothers.

You felt Steve's eyes from on your back and you let your body relax.

"I had two sisters. One and Sixteen. Céline and Emilie," You said while looking at the video of Steve and his friend laugh again. You turned around to face him, his face soft and vulnerable. "I'll see you at the apartment."

[AN: ummm I wrote two more parts today but like I’m feeling a little unenthusiastic and I want to be done already lol. ALSO, I wanted to add how the reader says “apartment” instead of “home” because she just doesn’t feel that connection to that space and yeah. I just wanted to make that clear]

[tags: @thisartemisnevermisses @thatoneperson5000 @capstopavenger]

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starkeristheendgame · 4 years

Note

slutty omega peter bought a strawberry-flavored condoms and wants to try them out on his Alpha, tony.

I hope this bring your idea to life! I kinda twisted it a little so I hope that’s okay! Ages aren’t specific so you can imagine anything you’re comfortable with. I really enjoyed this and thank you so much for the prompt!

As a side note, never buy alcohol or banana flavoured lube/condoms. Trust me. They’re nothing but disappointment. JuicyLube does a wonderful Bubblegum and a pretty nice Strawberry/Watermelon!

TW: Daddy kink | Breathplay if you squint | ABO dynamics | Dick choking (?)

Frankly, this whole ’you’re a fragile, pretty little thing and I don’t want to break you’ method of approach Tony seemed to have adopted in regards to him since they’d begun to date was really grating on Peter.

Okay. So he was a little inexperienced. In terms of real time experience. He had enough sex toys that even Tony Stark had raised an eyebrow, and his porn folder was the largest file size on his entire computer. His over-average masturbation habit was the entire reason they’d begun to date in the first place.

And yet, the moment it became ‘official’, it was like Tony became his damned father, not his Alpha and partner. He fussed over how much he ate, when he went to sleep, if he was okay every five minutes. And worst of all? They’d barely done more than kissing and grinding, some clothed groping.

So, sue him. Peter was going to play dirty. It had been a month and if he didn’t get Tony’s dick in him some way or another, he might actually just implode. And then Tony would have to clean up and explain it to May, and.

And that brought him to now, exactly two days after he had furiously and triumphantly clicked the purchase button far too harshly. The box was small and unassuming, with nothing internal to say what lay within. Peter tore into it a little savagely, eager to put his plan into motion. The packets were small and slim, a pretty shade of pink. The foil crinkled a little as he moved it around, staring.

Strawberry flavoured condoms. Well, this one was. He’d bought a few different flavours, but he liked strawberries over any other fruit.They were sweet, sometimes with a little sour undercurrent, and he found as an artificial flavour they were better than the others. He gave a wicked smile and hid his stash, waiting eagerly for Tony’s return.

He didn’t have to wait long, at six on the dot the elevator doors opened, revealing the long slope of Tony’s back as he stood, staring out at the world through the veil of the Tower. He was wearing one of his sharpest suits, a sleek, black Tom Ford that was burnished with dark, dark red flowers. It was Peter’s favourite. It matched Tony’s scent. Musky and woodsy but with a sweet, faintly flora undertone.

“Welcome home, Daddy” Peter called from where he lounged on the couch, thighs splayed to be sure his sweet scent had filled the room. Tony turned almost immediately, nostrils flaring as his dark gaze swept over his Omega. Peter knew it had been a hard-working day by the tightness in Tony’s shoulders, the delicate ridges between his brows, but Tony smiled when he saw him, warm and welcoming as he strode towards the couch.

“Hello, sweetpea. Sorry if I’m late - Work was a nightmare” Tony greeted, sinking down onto his knees in front of Peter like a worshipper to a God, nuzzling into his thigh as Peter sat up, buried long fingers in his soft, dark hair with a pleased hum. “You smell excited” the older man noted, hands rubbing at the sides of Peter’s thighs as he tipped his head to look up at him.

“Close you eyes” Peter instructed, grinning as Tony blinked at him warily, but obliged, long lashes dipping down. Peter squirmed to reach his pocket, careful not to make too much noise with the wrapper, though he spoke to cover the crinkle. “Open your mouth” he added next, watching as Tony frowned, but followed the order, lips parting just enough for Peter to slide the package between his teeth.

Tony made a questioning and semi-affronted sound, waiting for a beat before slowly opening his eyes. Peter giggled as he went a little cross-eyed trying to see the package, leaning forwards eagerly to watch his reaction. Tony shifted and reached up to grasp the packet, eyeing it with a perplexed pull of his brows.

“A condom?” He asked, brows lifting as he looked up at Peter questioningly. The boy huffed and rolled his eyes, plucking the packet from Tony’s fingers and tearing into it. He wasn’t overly careful, because the condom wasn’t about the safety; it was about the taste, and he drove two fingers into it, enough that he could push those latex-clad fingertips promptly into Tony’s mouth.

The Alpha gave a surprised mmph but then paused, tongue sliding along the covered pads of Peter’s fingers. “Mm’erry?” He mumbled around his mouthful, looking up at Peter in an amused but still confused manner. Peter gave a delighted nod, withdrawing his fingers and carelessly tossing the soiled condom and packet onto the coffee table. He had another.

“If you don’t wear this and let me lick you like an envelope, I’m going to stage a protest” Peter announced, squirming his way into standing upright. Tony cast him a bemused look, rising when Peter tugged at his shirt collar and moving easily when Peter pushed him down onto the couch. Tony sprawled elegantly before collecting himself, and reached up to scruff the Omega, dragging him down and onto his knees in the space between his spread thighs.

“A protest, hm? And what exactly would you do, Pup? Ban me from sex?” There was an Alpha bite to his mocking, and a gentle teasing that let Peter know the bite wasn’t serious. He leaned against the hand that held him, baring his neck even as he pat himself down for the second condom, forcing a pout to settle in place of the submissive, meek expression.

Tony said nothing, but watched with a baited look as Peter set aside the new packet and reached for Tony’s cock, palming it lovingly through his pressed slacks. It hardened under his touch until he was working at it with purpose, gripping the shape through the soft fabric, thumb pressing where he knew the tip lay, his pleading gaze fixed on Tony as he reached for the buttons.

“Please, Alpha. You won’t let me ride your knot. You won’t let me taste your cum. Won’t bury yourself inside me. Wanna - Have’ta get it somehow” Peter begged shamelessly, cheeks reddening when Tony’s hand tightened, thumb digging into the hinge of his jaw, Peter’s needy whine making his cock thicken under his fingers.

“Oh, but Pup. You don’t even want to taste my cum. You just want something to hold your little treat in place” Tony chastised, his free hand reaching down as he leaned forwards, to grasp cruelly at Peter’s cock. The Omega whimpered, sucking in a deep breath of Tony’s scent, flared with arousal. He could feel slick making his asscheeks sticky, and he didn’t wait to reply, fingers fumbling with Tony’s zipper. The Alpha was wearing dark, silk boxers that strained over his impressive length, and Peter would’ve dived forwards to taste it, except Tony’s grip held him steady, forcing him to simply part the material instead, drawing his cock out into the air.

It was a gorgeous thing. Long and hard, thick like a drinks bottle. The tip was cut and dark pink, shiny with pre-cum. The soft swell of his knot-hold at the bottom just visible through the parted silk and cotton. If Peter had his way, he would push up, climb onto Tony’s lap and sink onto it until it was choking his throat. As it was, he forced himself to let go of the hard, warm skin, reaching shakily for the condom.

Tony’s intense gaze tracked him, right to Peter peeling the condom from the wrapper, careful not to touch it too much. He didn’t know if the flavour was in the lube coating or the latex itself. A soft, low Alpha growl had him freezing, gaze flicking carefully up to Tony, who was smirking at him. “Mouth” the Alpha commanded, letting go of his scruff and lounging carelessly back onto the couch, hips jutting slightly and cock curving into his stomach.

Peter faltered. It was all well and good practising on bananas, but…

Tony allowed him to use his hands to start off, just to get the condom properly situated over the tip of his cock. The Alpha hissed a breath, eyes going half-lidded as Peter shuffled between his knees, licking his lips eagerly. “You smell so good, sweetheart. So slick. Always so hard, keeping my hands to myself”.

Peter wanted to snap then why the fuck are you?! But Tony’s hand buried deep in his hair, threading through the soft curls and pulling him down until his hot breath fell over his cock, making the thick length twitch and drool.

“Go on then, Pup. Daddy’s had such a hard day, be a good little Omega and make me feel better, then. Take a fat load and my knot down your throat” Tony hummed, free hand loosening his tie. And, yeah. Peter knew that Tony wouldn’t actually be able to knot his throat, but the idea and the words had fresh slick flooding his boxers, a breathless, high keen escaping as he dove down eagerly.

At first, it was awkward. He couldn’t suck, because that would suck the condom right off and down his throat. And he couldn’t use his hands, so he had to try and roll the slippery latex down the stretch of Tony’s cock with his tongue and teeth. The ache of his jaw as he worked at Tony’s cock was delicious, and the sweet, almost sickly strawberry was thick on his tongue and made him drool.

Both, then. Lube and latex. Tony hissed as he worked his tongue over the roll of latex, making a noise of frustration when it wouldn’t go down any further. The lube was too slick and he couldn’t focus on breathing and working it down. “M’pha” he whined helplessly, letting his mouth close over the hot, pulsing length, swallowing what remained of the coating.

Tony took pity on him, running a soothing hand through his hair even as he swallowed a moan, eyes rolling back slightly. “Okay, sweetpea. You can use your hands” he permitted, voice a low rumble as his hips jolted into the wet, tight heat of Peter’s mouth. Peter managed to pull the condom down properly and sat back briefly to breathe and suckle his fingers clean.

It wasn’t like real strawberries, it wasn’t juicy and sweet-sweet, but it was still good, still had his eyes rolling as he shuffled on his knees, thighs aching. It was good, though, basking in the scent of his Alpha, breathing in his arousal. The sensation of his long cock stretching his mouth wide, cutting off his breathing. He couldn’t wait to taste the real thing.

“Good, sweetpea?” His Alpha checked in, stroking through his hair fondly. Peter nodded, looking up dotingly at his Alpha before he dove back into his task, laving his tongue over the smooth latex and slurping the strawberry, sweet flavoured drool. Tony was doing his best to maintain control above him, slow, rumbling growls emitting here and there, but the slow-burn of heir sex life had clearly taken the toll on them both.

Tony’s thighs trembled with the effort of not fucking into Peter’s mouth, and his low moans accompanied Peter’s high, throaty keens. The Omega was drenched, grey sweats stained dark with his slick, the scent sweeter and over-powering that of the strawberry as he suckled hard, like he was trying to lick the taste right out of the latex.

“God, baby. So tight. My little slut”.

And.

And Peter was cumming with a yowl, swallowing harshly around Tony’s cock as his hips jolted forwards, tapering off into a whimper as fresh slick soaked his thighs and cum made the front of his boxers as sticky and wet as the back. Tony gave a sound of surprise, hands fisting tightly in his hair as his hips jerked into the sudden suction.

“Christ, sweetpea. Like that, hm? Being my little slut? Fuck. Should’ve done this sooner. You could be bouncing on my knot right now. Spread open wide over it; being stuffed full of my cum” Tony panted, scent thick with desire as he thrust up shallowly into Peter’s mouth. Peter whined, already desperate to cum again, despite still twitching from his first.

He scrabbled at the condom, only barely managing to pull it away and to impale his throat on Tony’s cock in time, ears filled with the yelped, surprised moan from above as thick, hot cum flooded his mouth. The strawberry taste was still there from the condom and it was a curious mix of salty-sweet, overwhelming and too much. He spluttered, choking on the never-ending liquid and watching some of it spurt from his mouth, dribbling back down Tony’s cock as he fought to swallow as much as he could.

“Such a good Omega, baby. So good for me. Taking all my cum” Tony rasped above him, hands petting at his jaw to encourage him to pull away and catch his breath. Peter was a mess of drool and cum, wiping uselessly at his chin. He felt gross and sticky, but sated and happy, blinking dazedly up at his Alpha with a sticky, white smile.

“So…Can you knot me now?”

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Text

He Could Scream: Kauri

CW: Electric shock treatment, lab whump dehumanization, pet whump, referenced past dubcon/noncon, referenced drugging, abusive relationship (from abused person’s POV)

Immediately follows The Surgery

Tagging: @maybeawhumpblog, @pepperonyscience, @haro-whumps, @burtlederp, @18-toe-beans, @finder-of-rings, @whump-chains, @giggly-evil-puppy, @whimpers-and-whumpers @whump-it, @lumpofwhump, @pumpkinthefangirl

“Okay, little man,” Tyler says, a bright, pleased smile on his face. He isn’t wearing his long white coat, today, just a simple button-up shirt with a starched collar and nice dress pants. There’s a little ID card hanging on a metal clip off his shirt pocket, a tiny little rectangular photo of Tyler smiling bright and cheerful against a plain blue background.

The smile is always the same.

Kauri spent four days in the recovery room - he could track days in there, the nurse named Bobbie checked on him five times every day every few hours, and Kauri had grasped onto that much control and information and held tight - and then it was back to the same place, white walls and 162 white tiles. Irregular feedings,

Except in moments like this one, when they bring him out to test the product.

“Hey.” Fingers snap just under his nose and Kauri jumps, blinking rapidly, pulled from his thoughts. “Hey, bud, you need to pay attention.”

Kauri stares at him with red-rimmed eyes, feeling emptied out, like a cup full of water that they had poured and poured - and still they searched for one more drop. After a second, he slowly nods. “I’m, I’m paying attention, sir,” He says softly, sitting on the examination table feeling the little paper crackle underneath him as he shifts around.

“Hey, I’m not a handler, man. You can just call me Tyler.”

“Um…”

Tyler smiles at him expectantly, and Kauri still fights the urge to smile back automatically. Tyler is always smiling - sometimes bright and cheerful and proud like now, sometimes nervous and like he’s hiding fear, sometimes a smile that is blank and empty when the Director comes to see how the tests are going.

When the Director comes, she puts on those blue gloves and touches the red, irritated healing skin around the new things they’ve put into him. Sometimes she pushes hard into the stitches and nearly breaks them, and he sees Del wincing just behind her, but no one says a word to the Director.

When he cries out, she presses harder. If Kauri takes all her pressing and prodding without a flinch, she pulls back and praises him.

He is starting to hate the words good boy.

“Try it for me,” Tyler encourages him, soothingly. He puts a hand on either side of Kauri’s face and shakes his head a little, back and forth. “Come on, kiddo.”

“... Okay,” Kauri says, finally, wanting to cringe back and away but he can’t. “Um. Tyler.”

“Good, great. I know this part’s not much fun, ‘898, I get it, but you’ve done so well up until now.” Tyler ruffles his hair and Kauri’s eyes flutter closed involuntarily - it feels good, he can’t help it. He doesn’t want the touch to feel good, but it does.

Because of them. It’s because of people like Tyler - because people like Tyler used other people like me, a long time ago, to find out how to make us different people than we used to be. They took all those things they learned and put them into me, to make me like this.

Tyler’s wide bright smile, flashing teeth, his long hair pulled back in its usual bun against the nape of his neck, the way he’s rubbing his hands together - it’s all a blur of things Kauri can’t quite focus on. His shoulders keep jumping, jerking him forwards without his consent. Fingers twitch and when they try to have him hold a pen it just drops, again and again and again.

When he was trained the first time, they trained him to be scared of holding pens - his hands shook when he tried, he couldn’t get a good grip.

It’s worse now.

Kauri wonders if the shaking will ever fully stop.

“We’re going to take things nice and slow today. This is all going on record for the Director, so you really need to work hard for me. Got it?” Tyler tilts his chin up and Kauri blinks at him, nodding slowly, his eyes skimming to the camera fixed in the corner near the ceiling, the big black circle that hangs down from the ceiling tiles. Staring, staring, staring.

They will tape his screaming. People like Tyler will study it. And then they’ll do it to someone else, too - some other Box Boy - over and over and over again-

Stop thinking. Get through this and go home. Once they’re done with tests, Owen will take you home, you’ll go home.

Thinking of Owen brings new pain, different pain - a twist inside him because going home isn’t any better, is it? If he goes home, Owen will have the little button they push to hurt him. Owen, who put his hands on his neck and pushed him onto his stomach on the floor next to the couch… he’ll have a new way to hurt him when he’s angry, and he had promised to never, ever hurt him like this.

Kauri swallows back the noise he wants to make, low and broken.

“Okay.” Tyler turns back to look up at the camera, holding up one hand to count down from five. Kauri watches, feeling dull and far away from himself.

Five… four… three… two… one…

“Disciplinary implant with electrical output,” Tyler says to the camera, his voice dropping from its usual good cheer to serious, and Kauri stares at the neatly twisted bun of hair on the back of his neck. “This is subject eight to receive the implants and the first to show success afterward. Subject is number Six-Four-Five-Eight-Nine-Eight, known by owner as Kauri, spelled K-A-U-R-I.” Tyler glances back at him. “Remind me to tell your owner sometime that ‘kauri’ is actually a whole word with a pronunciation, and what he calls you ain’t it.”

Kauri doesn’t say anything - just drops his eyes down to the ground - and after a beat, Tyler shrugs and turns back to the camera.

“Guess the owner’s never spent time ‘Down Undah’,” Tyler says with a cheerful, absolutely awful accent that Kauri doesn’t recognize and can’t place. Then he pauses. “Wait. Is New Zealand still Down Under? Shit. Aren’t those two places close to each other? I feel like… Australia’s probably pretty close… oh shit, I have no fucking clue what distance is like over there. Huh. I probably should have paid more attention in, like, geography or whatever. I’m guessing watching that show with the hot mermaids doesn’t count as studying New Zealand…” His voice trails off. Then snaps back up at the camera. “Well, shit, that’s a bad take. Okay. One more time.” Tyler sighs, holds up five fingers to the camera, starts counting again.

Kauri wonders exactly how Tyler became a scientist - or if he’s really something else entirely, and they put a white coat on him and called him a scientist to hide what he really is, what he really does, in his work on Kauri and the others like him.

Five… four… three… two… one…

“Disciplinary implant with electrical output,” Tyler repeats, in the same serious, professional voice, and Kauri doesn’t move - doesn’t even swing his legs - he just stares down at the floor and waits for his little speech to finish, for the pain to start again.

“We’ve been working with this subject during post-op and currently to set the parameters of the implant as per the owner’s instructions,” Tyler says, moving back to stand right next to where Kauri sits on the examination table even as he pitches his voice for the camera in the ceiling, giving it the occasional glance with his head slightly tilted. Angled, Kauri thinks - he wants to look good on the camera.

“Main parameter is successfully set. Example #1 is prepared. 645898, please give your attention to the board on the wall.”

Kauri tenses, blue eyes flaring just a little.

He hates this test.

“Come on, little man,” Tyler says softly, encouragingly, and puts a hand on Kauri’s back, rubbing soothing circles that make his skin crawl and wish for more all at once. “You can do this for us, okay? Just be really good for me. I really need this promotion.”

I really need you to have not torn my skin open and made me watch you do it, but here we are.

The wall is crumbling inside Kauri’s mind, and he doesn’t even try to put the pieces back in any longer. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if he remembers things, if he gets angry inside, if Owen notices. He’s controlled, now. Owen will make sure he can’t read, or send a message, ever… ever again.

They don’t even care enough to erase it all any longer, because they don’t have to. He can be angry all he wants - he’ll still be helpless.

Tyler’s hand slides up to the back of his neck, lays heavy there and clammy. His thumb presses into the side of Kauri’s neck and Kauri shudders and raises his eyes.

“Good boy, ‘898,” Tyler murmurs, and Kauri bites down on his lower lip until it hurts.

There’s a large white dry-erase board with black letters written on it hung on the wall opposite from the exam table Kauri is sitting on. When they’d brought him in here, Tyler and Delevigne had talked about how the computer had chosen randomized words based on Kauri’s life before.

What was my life before? Why does a computer get to know and I don’t?

Kauri’s eyes land on the whiteboard, try briefly to focus on METAPHOR in Tyler’s thick scrawl. As soon as the black marks coalesced into a word, the fire lit his nerves again.

Kauri jerked forwards, crying out helplessly - it never mattered how many times they practiced, he always cried out - and Tyler’s hand tightened on the back of his neck, pulling him back.

Kauri went rigid, tears in his eyes. “Pl-please,” He breathes, in the stammer, the shock-speech the handlers call it and laugh at him. “Please, m-make it, make it st-stop, Tyler, please-”

“Look away from the word, buddy,” Tyler says, unperturbed, watching Kauri’s face. “That’s all you have to do, is drop your eyes.”

Kauri tries but he can’t, every muscle is locked against the electricity. His whimpers become choked-off sobs as tears flood his eyes, until finally the words blur enough to be unrecognizable.

The pain stops, and Kauri can finally lower his eyes. He tries to breathe through the aftershocks, curling his hands into fists to keep them from twitching and shaking too much. Tyler’s hand never leaves his neck, presses against it like a weight.

“Subject is exposed to shock as soon as focus on words is registered,” Tyler says to the camera, and the smile is hinting at the corners of his mouth again. “Subject shows marked reluctance to engage with text even when given a direct order, as the subject is aware of the consequences if he does so. We’ll do one more, 645898.”

Kauri jerks in a breath and nods quickly, feeling his curls starting to stick to the cold sweat that’s broken out across his body, the way his thin white trainee T-shirt sticks to the sweat on his back. The recirculated air washes across his arms, his bare legs and feet, and he starts to shiver. He can hardly tell the difference between the shivers from cold and the muscle shakes from the electric shock.

The little circles - the shock implants - feel hot, like when he would sit on Owen’s balcony in the sunlight too long and the warmth of the sun turned to an uncomfortable, prickling burn. When he looks down, he can just see them, glowing slightly at the bottom of his vision. Can see the stitches, the skin around them red and irritated, that travel in a perfect line from his right shoulder to the center of his chest.

Tyler steps away from him and walks across the room. Kauri keeps his head down and watches from under his dark eyelashes as the word Tyler had written is erased with the little black eraser. Tyler checks a card he pulls from his pocket and writes something new. Kauri drops his eyes so he won’t look at the word a single second longer than he has to - aware, with a twist of disgusted fear inside of him, that that’s the response he’s supposed to have.

The headaches come and go, as memories break free or sink back under the fog in his head, but they don’t care about the memories anymore.

They don’t care what he knows.

Because they know that Kauri is controlled.

“Shit, she’s gonna be so happy,” Tyler murmurs as he goes back to Kauri’s side. “She wanted us to make sure her poor sad sack kid can do this without a memory wipe, and we’re gonna give her a fucking work of art, little man. Okay. Look up.”

They put the implants under his skin.

They record the pain he feels.

They record when he screams.

They will use it to hurt someone after him.

And Tyler will be rewarded for it.

Kauri swallows hard. Tyler slides an arm around his shoulder, leans in close, and takes him by the chin. His sweaty fingers tilt Kauri’s chin up and up and up.

“I said look up, bud,” Tyler says, more forcefully this time.

Kauri’s eyes land on HERO’S JOURNEY but don’t take in that the individual letters even form words before the burn lights him up again and he starts to shake.

His eyes locked with the pain like every other part of him, and when he sees the words all Kauri can do is wail, half-choked as his muscles are forced into rigidity, a pressure that seems like it might snap bones. He can’t stop looking, he can’t stop, and it won’t stop hurting until he stops looking.

Finally Tyler grabs him by the hair and pushes down, forces his gaze back down to the floor to break his eye contact with the letters. Kauri sobs, tears sliding down his cheeks as he shakes and shakes in Tyler’s arms. His hands won’t close, the fingers keep moving, twitching, jerking little nonsense movements he can’t control.

“Success,” Tyler says loudly, happily, for the camera. Then he pets through Kauri’s hair, holding him close. Kauri leans against him automatically, eyes blank and unfocused, sobbing hoarsely through a throat that aches from screaming. “End recording. There we go, buddy, there we go. All done for now. All done, little man, all done… there we go, just let it out, there you go… God, I am so grateful for you. You're so lucky, man, we're going to be written into those fucking brochures now, you and me… you’ve done so well and the Director is gonna give me one fuck of a bonus for this, you’ve been so, so good for me, little man, so good…”

Tyler’s fingers card through black curls, scratch just a little into his scalp, run down his neck and then back up again, and Kauri shudders against something new - not the simple I-want-this he has to every touch, but the old disgust he used to feel, used to be able to access. He doesn’t want Tyler to touch him, he doesn’t want to be his very good boy and help him design something terrible to do to someone else, he doesn’t want he doesn’t want he doesn’t want.

He keeps crying, but the tears begin to change. He can feel the sick lurch in his stomach, the way his mouth wanted to pull his lips back into a snarl. He can feel the fight he’d had, a long time ago, before it was all gone. The version of him that had said you can’t take my name from me - but they did… they took his name and they took the fight, too.

They didn’t care if he remembered, any longer. Owen didn’t care what he felt - that he might feel hurt Owen broke his promise, that he might be angry about it. Owen didn’t care.

All Owen cared about was that Kauri could be controlled.

Punished. Disciplined, for thinking for himself. For having a thought Owen wasn’t in charge of. For doing one single thing just for himself.

Why didn’t you just tie me to the bed?

Kauri sniffled, and Tyler misunderstood the reason, tightening his arms around him, shushing him in a low soft sincere voice. He thought Kauri was sad - and he was - but the tears weren’t from sadness.

The tears were from anger.

“Take your time,” Tyler whispers into his ear, petting him gently. “Take your time, ‘898. Just breathe, little guy, you’re doing great. We’re going to bring in the computer next, okay?”

Kauri shivers, clenching his eyes shut, feeling a ghost of electricity just thinking about looking at the keyboard again. And they’ll make him - make him look, make him try to type, try to read, and they’ll hurt him every time he does.

Because he can’t be allowed to read or write, or think for himself, or think at all. Because he has to be locked up, closed up in Owen’s condo, kept like the cat the neighbors owned next door. Because he has to be empty, and pretty.

Because Owen is jealous of every thought Kauri has that isn’t about him.

“I know it sucks, little dude, I totally get it,” Tyler says, and Kauri wants to spit no you don’t, you don’t understand anything about me, but all he does is miserably nod, allow himself to be held, try to ignore the way his body wants to react even now, even to this, the way it was trained to. “I know. But look - once the Director is happy with the recordings, we’ll get you back home, and your owner will be so happy to see you, right? Because you’ll be totally perfect for him, exactly how he wants you now.”

Why don’t I get to choose how I want me to be? What did I do to deserve having that choice taken away? Why won’t you let me be a person anymore?

Why can’t Owen just love me back?

Kauri cries in the arms of a scientist who will not stop hurting him and he’s so hurt, and scared, and sad, and mostly he’s so angry he could scream.

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almostafantasia · 4 years

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give in to my temptation

CLEXA WEEK 2020 | DAY ONE - FORBIDDEN LOVE

When Clarke's friends catch her thirsting over the captain of their rival college's soccer team, they categorically ban her from acting on her lust. It's not her fault that she's already met and hit it off with Lexa Woods. Besides, what Octavia and Raven don't know can't hurt them...

Read on AO3

“Shit, have you seen my bra?”

Roused from sleep by a voice in her room, Clarke opens her eyes and lifts her head from her pillow, watching as the half-naked girl searches Clarke’s bedroom for the missing undergarment.

“You’re leaving already?” Clarke asks.

It’s not even fully light outside yet. Through the cracks in her blinds, Clarke can see the first glimpse of daybreak just starting to wake up the world. One glance at the screen of the phone laid face up on the nightstand is enough to confirm that this is an ungodly hour to be awake on any day, but especially after a night of very little sleep.

“I have to get to the gym,” says the girl - Lexa, a name that Clarke only remembers now because she kept getting it wrong for the first half hour after they met each other in an off-campus bar last night, much to her mortification when she found out the truth. “Aha!”

Lexa holds up a bra between her thumb and forefinger, a triumphant expression on her face, before she puts it back on.

“You have to?” asks Clarke, rolling onto her back and rubbing at her bleary eyes with the heels of her hands.

“Coach’ll be pissed if the captain doesn’t show up.”

Lexa pulls her sweater over her head, covering up the truly magnificent set of abs that Clarke had the pleasure of appreciating up close last night, then sits on the end of Clarke’s bed so that she can lace up her shoes.

“You’re the captain?”

“Of the soccer team,” nods Lexa.

“And you’re sure I can’t tempt you with an alternative workout?” asks Clarke, sitting up in bed and deliberately letting the sheets pool around her waist so that her breasts are exposed.

Predictably, Lexa’s eyes drop, widening slightly as she stares for a few seconds. Clarke remembers exactly how much Lexa enjoyed her tits last night, and her cheeks flush hot as she recalls the feeling of Lexa’s accomplished tongue painting circles around her nipples as Clarke’s back arched off the bed in search of more contact.

Lexa’s green eyes flicker back up to Clarke’s face, pupils blown wider than before, but with a playful little smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Nice try,” she shoots back at Clarke, “but it doesn’t work like that.”

Lexa gets to her feet and makes her way to Clarke’s bedroom door, stopping with her hand on handle.

“Thanks for a good night. I had a lot of fun.”

And then, before Clarke can formulate an answer or even contemplate asking for Lexa’s number so that they can meet up again, Lexa is gone without another word.

…

There are only two major colleges in Clarke’s city. Clarke knows enough of the women’s soccer team at Arkadia University for it to be a simple process of elimination that Lexa must be the captain of the other college’s team.

It’s pretty hard to concentrate on anything even vaguely productive with her mind still full of the memories from last night. Clarke is supposed to be revising for a test next week but she gets distracted too easily, and it takes only a simple google search of the Polis University women’s soccer team for Clarke to be staring at their glossy red and black website, complete with a professionally shot photograph of the full team in two neat rows in front of the goalposts. Lexa sits in the centre of the front row, hair pushed back into a slick ponytail and wearing the captain’s armband around her left bicep. She’s even hotter than Clarke remembers, almost aloof in the way she stares at the camera with her head held up and a formidable look in her eyes.

“Hey, Clarke!”

Clarke nearly falls off her chair in surprise as Octavia and Raven drop into the empty seats on either side of Clarke at her table in the Arkadia University library.

“Wait, why have you got a picture of the Polis soccer team on your computer.”

“Because I’m bored of studying and there’s some nice eye candy in their team,” answers Clarke. “The captain is very nice to look at.”

Clarke pauses, wondering whether to elaborate and explain the encounter she had with the Polis team captain last night and into the early hours of this morning, but her hesitation gives Raven and Octavia the time needed to shut her down before she can even speak.

“Absolutely not,” says Raven.

“If you even entertain the idea, you’re dead to me, Griffin,” adds Octavia.

Clarke recoils at the abruptness of their reaction and minimises the window on her computer before it sparks any further outrage.

“Wow, I was just looking,” says Clarke, defensively. “I’m not going to propose marriage to the girl.”

“You’d better not!” says Raven, giving Clarke a stern look. “You know the Lexa Woods is the sole reason we lost out on the state championship last year?”

“I thought it was because…”

“No,” interrupts Raven, holding up a hand to stop Clarke mid-sentence. “It was Woods.”

“The rest of the Polis team aren’t anything without her,” agrees Octavia.

Clarke thinks back to last night, when she had no idea that she was bedding the star player of a rival team, and wonders if things would have differed if she had known Lexa’s real identity. Clarke highly doubts that there is much that could have stopped her from going for what she wanted after she met Lexa in the bar last night, and she only feels a tiny niggle of guilt now at the realisation that she might have accidentally betrayed two of her closest friends for a single night of no-strings-attached fun.

“She’s that good, huh?” asks Clarke, and as her memory reminds her of something else that Lexa is skilled at, she feels a familiar throb between her legs.

“I see that look on your face, Clarke!” says Raven, pointing an accusatory finger at Clarke. “Don’t even think about it. She’s the enemy. One hundred percent off-limits.”

Clarke wonders how Raven and Octavia would react if they knew that Clarke has already slept with the enemy.

In her defence, Lexa is not specifically Clarke’s enemy. Clarke’s loyalties lie with the Arkadia team because of her best friends, not because she has a particularly strong allegiance to her own college.

Which is why it is way too easy to lie and say, “I’ve forgotten about her already.”

…

Clarke waits six whole days, out of respect for her friends, before making contact with Lexa.

She finds her on social media easily - there’s only one Lexa Woods in their city, and Clarke recognises the distinctive red and black kit of the Polis University soccer kit that she wears in her profile picture.

When she decides to reach out to Lexa with a private message, it’s only with the intention of being friendly. And it’s just basic respect that causes Clarke to suggest that they meet again, that causes her to invite Lexa out for a drink and then back to hers, just politeness that motivates Clarke to kiss Lexa, to pull at her clothes and to touch her until she is arching her back and crying out in pleasure.

It is only out of politeness that Clarke lets Lexa return the favour.

Twice.

Clarke doesn’t think about her friends and the strict instructions they gave her until much later, when she is curled up against Lexa’s naked body beneath her covers. And it is very difficult to feel any kind of remorse when she is still basking in the haze of post-orgasmic bliss.

“So, my friends categorically forbade me from sleeping with you,” says Clarke, as Lexa’s fingers absently trace a path up and down Clarke’s bare spine. “Apparently you’re the enemy.”

Clarke feels rather than hears the little snort of laughter than Lexa gives in response.

“Is it me personally that your friends don’t like or is it the fact I go to Polis?”

“Both,” answers Clarke, lifting her head so that she can look into Lexa’s eyes, before she adds, “My friends are Octavia and Raven.”

Lexa’s green eyes stare at Clarke blankly for a few seconds, as if she has no idea who Clarke is talking about.

“Octavia Blake and Raven Reyes?” explains Clarke.

Lexa’s eyes widen in surprise as she asks, “You’re friends with Blake and Reyes?”

“Since high school,” says Clarke, with a little nod.

“You know that Blake is dating our quarterback? Isn’t it a bit hypocritical of her to warn you against sleeping with the enemy?”

“Different sports,” shrugs Clarke, though she does feel a small amount of comfort in recalling the way that Raven had been furious with Octavia for about a week after finding out about her new boyfriend, before forgiving her almost immediately upon actually meeting Lincoln. Clarke momentarily allows herself to wonder if Raven’s reaction would be the same upon learning about Lexa - initial betrayal that is put aside when Raven actually takes the time to get to know Lexa - before she remembers that Lexa is just a hookup, not somebody she has any intention of introducing to her friends.

“The big game against Arkadia is next week,” says Lexa. “Will you be watching?”

“Uh huh,” Clarke hums into Lexa’s neck.

Lexa’s hand stills on the small of Clarke’s back, just a few inches away from resting on the swell of Clarke’s ass.

“And which side will you be rooting for?”

“Arkadia, of course,” says Clarke, lifting her upper body up at the same time as she swings a leg across Lexa’s hips to straddle her. She grinds her hips down suggestively as both of Lexa’s hands come to rest on her upper thighs, then leans down far enough to be able to murmur against Lexa’s lips, “But if you were to score a goal or two, I might be persuaded to offer some kind of consolation prize…”

…

Clarke dresses head-to-toe in light blue for the game between Arkadia and Polis. She owes her friends that much.

And so what if she misses Octavia’s goal at the beginning of the second half because she’s too busy ogling Lexa’s thighs and thinking about them being wrapped around her own body?

(She cheers a little bit louder and waves her blue and white Arkadia University flag a little harder, just to compensate.)

When Lexa scores the goal that brings Polis level ten minutes later, Clarke cheers just as hard on the inside, but manages to externally project only disappointment at the fact her team has just lost their lead.

It’s when Lexa scores a second goal, just a few minutes before the end of the match, that Clarke is really torn between the two sides. Her only knowledge of soccer comes from picking up bits and pieces from Octavia and Raven over the years, but even she can tell that Lexa is a brilliant player. She looks so unassuming one second, and the next Lexa will be sprinting along the wing so fast that the Arkadia team don’t even notice her moving until it’s too late to do anything about it.

Octavia and Raven look broken as their side goes behind. Clarke really feels bad for them and finds herself furiously glaring at Lexa for doing this to her two best friends.

And then Lexa glances up and makes eye contact with Clarke, and it’s not even like she does anything even remotely sexual, but the tiny nod of acknowledgement she gives Clarke is enough for all Clarke’s irritation to melt away as her chest fills with mixed affection and lust for Lexa.

The game ends a few minutes later with Polis University’s two goals leading Arkadia’s one. Clarke watches from the stands, torn as Lexa celebrates with her teammates on the same pitch that Octavia collapses onto, exhausted and broken as she lets out a frustrated cry of defeat that carries through the air.

Clarke loiters outside the locker rooms once the game has finished, playing on her phone as she half-hopes that Lexa will send her a message asking to meet, but it is Octavia and Raven who appear first, freshly showered and wearing scowls that can probably be seen from space.

“You both played brilliantly,” says Clarke, slipping her phone back into her pocket and wrapping an arm around each of them as she bundles them into a group hug.

“Not well enough,” grumbles Octavia. “We should have won that game. We were all over them in the first half.”

“Fucking Woods,” adds Raven, shaking her head in disappointment. “Anyway, Harper is having the team around to hers tonight. We’re all going to drink ourselves into a coma. You coming?”

Behind Octavia and Raven, Lexa walks through the door from the Polis changing room, hair hanging in damp curls around her face and her black sports bag slung over one shoulder. Clarke makes eye contact with her, then immediately looks away before her friends notice what she’s looking at.

“I think I’ll pass,” answers Clarke, trying to keep her voice as level as possible, even as she sees Lexa drop down onto one knee and fiddle with her shoelace, as if she’s trying to hang around until Clarke is alone.

“Really?” asks Octavia, the surprise at Clarke turning down an opportunity to party evident in her voice.

“I’ve got other stuff to do,” says Clarke.

“Like what?” asks Raven.

“Revision.”

“On a Saturday night?”

Clarke hesitates, her eyes flicking between Octavia and Raven, who stare at her with matching expressions of disbelief, before she says, “Yeah. I remembered during the game that one of my professors is expecting me to read two chapters before Tuesday and I haven’t even opened the book yet.”

Octavia and Raven exchange a glance, and then Octavia says, “Bullshit.”

Clarke can’t help but let her eyes wander to the real reason why she doesn’t want to accept the invitation. Lexa is now preoccupied with rummaging around in her sports bag for something - whether she is actually looking for something or is just trying to make herself look busy so that it doesn’t seem suspicious that she’s hanging around outside the locker rooms, Clarke’s doesn’t actually know - but she glances up, as if sensing Clarke’s eyes on her, and shoots Clarke a smile.

Clarke smiles back, before she has the chance to remember that she is talking to the two people who have forbidden her from even lusting after their rival captain, and realises her mistake only too late. She watches, almost in slow motion, as Octavia and Raven follow Clarke’s gaze to see who she is smiling at, and the panic starts to rise in her chest.

“Maybe I could join you at the party a bit later?” Clarke blurts out, a desperate attempt to distract Octavia and Raven from what’s really going on here.

It doesn’t fool them.

“How long have you been sleeping with Lexa Woods?” asks Octavia, folding her arms across her chest as her attention turns back to Clarke.

“What?” exclaims Clarke, letting out a snort and shaking her head. “I’m not… what are you talking about? You think I’m…?”

“Clarke,” interrupts Raven. “We’re not stupid.”

Clarke feels her cheeks start to burn with embarrassment at being called out so spectacularly on her actions, though she valiantly maintains the frown of confusion on her face as if she has done nothing wrong at all.

“How long?” asks Octavia. “Was it before or after we told you not to?”

Clarke is momentarily prepared to fight, to lay out her argument and attempt to justify her actions because she is a grown woman goddamnit and can decide for herself who she does and doesn’t want to sleep with. But then she realises that Octavia and Raven don’t actually seem that mad, and wonders if perhaps they’ve known all along, if they had already worked out prior to Clarke’s slip up tonight that her interest in Lexa Woods was more than just a one-time ogle of a soccer team’s website.

Letting out a defeated sigh, Clarke says, “Well, in my defence, it started before…”

“I fucking knew it!” cries out Octavia, slapping her thigh with the palm of her hand. She holds out her other hand to Raven, and then says, “Pay up, Reyes.”

As Raven grumbles incoherently under her breath and reaches into her bag for her wallet to pull out a few crisp notes and pass them across to Octavia, Clarke’s mouth hangs open in surprise.

“Hold up, you guys knew?”

“We had strong suspicions,” Octavia corrects Clarke, pocketing the winnings from her bet with Raven. “After we told you not to, Raven pointed out that you were probably more likely to go after Woods. I joked that you’d probably already slept with her.”

“I didn’t know who she was, I promise,” says Clarke. Her eyes flicker across to where Lexa leans against the wall of the changing rooms, now combing out her wet hair with her fingers, and her throat goes dry at the memories from the two nights they’ve spent together. “And I mean, have you seen how hot she is?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever noticed,” answers Octavia, shaking her head.

“Nope,” agrees Raven. “Every time I see her, the only thing I can think about are all the ways I could break her legs to stop her from playing soccer again.”

For a moment, Clarke isn’t one hundred percent sure if Raven is joking or not, until Raven speaks again.

“No, but seriously, Clarke,” adds Raven. “I hate her as a soccer player because she’s just too damn good. But if she makes you happy, then I’m cool with it, okay?”

“Same here,” adds Octavia.

“It’s just sex,” shrugs Clarke. And then, because she needs to get it off her chest and there is no such thing as oversharing with Octavia and Raven, she adds, “Really really good sex. God, it’s not just soccer she’s good at…”

“Okay, Clarke,” says Raven, as she winces at Clarke’s words. “We’ll leave you with your girl.”

“But you are coming to the party later,” says Octavia, with just a hint of a threat in her voice. “Just … do whatever it is you need to do with Woods, then get your ass over to Harper’s. I can forgive you for sleeping with the enemy, but not if you bail on us later, okay?”

As Octavia and Raven traipse away, muttering under their breath what Clarke is sure is another thinly veiled complaint about Polis beating Arkadia, Lexa stops pretending to be busy and wanders over to Clarke.

“I’m sorry your friends lost,” says Lexa. “They were a good match for us tonight.”

“You were better,” says Clarke, with a little shrug. “And they’re big girls, they’ll get over it. Actually, they might not - have you thought about hiring somebody to taste your food before you eat it just in case one of them slips you something laced with poison?”

Lexa laughs, and reaches out to take one of Clarke’s hands with her own.

“I overheard a little … I mean, I take it they know about us?” she asks Clarke.

“Apparently so,” nods Clarke. “And they’re surprisingly okay about it.”

“Cool,” says Lexa. “So, um … what are you doing tonight?”

Using their linked hands as leverage, Clarke pulls Lexa close to her and rests her other hand on Lexa’s waist.

“Well, I’ve been told I have to go to their little commiseration party,” says Clarke, pouting to convey that she would much rather be doing other things tonight. “And to be honest, somebody needs to make sure that they don’t all drink until they need to get their stomachs pumped.”

Lexa brushes some of Clarke’s hair out of her face, leaving her hand cupping the back of Clarke’s head.

“That’s a shame,” she murmurs. “How about tomorrow? Would you let me take you out on a proper date?”

Clarke’s heart does an actual honest-to-god somersault in her chest.

“You want to?” she asks in disbelief.

“I mean, only if you do.”

Clarke answers, not with words, but by pulling Lexa’s body flush against her own and pressing her lips to Lexa’s. Lexa seems taken aback at first, but then the hand cupping Clarke’s head buries itself in her hair while the other drops Clarke’s hand and instead winds its way around Clarke’s back, holding her close.

“Is that a yes?” Lexa murmurs against Clarke’s lips, barely breaking the kiss for long enough to speak, before her mouth is back on Clarke’s.

“Yes,” Clarke answers, her mind already starting to wonder just how late she’ll be able to turn up to Harper’s party without pissing her friends off. “Of course it’s a yes.”

#clexa week 2020 #is that the tag?#or is it #clexaweek2020 #clexa #clarke griffin #commander lexa #clexa fanfic #oh boy i'm nervous about this #it's my first attempt at clexa in a year

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heyyy-hey-babyyy · 4 years

Text

I’m Fine. Just a Little Tired.

Summary: Catching wind of a hunt, Sam, Dean, and Y/N, head toward a small town where residents are attacking each other. What they find could be dangerous for them all.

Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader

WARNINGS: Canon-typical violence

1746 words.

Supernatural/horror fusion

The Crazies (2010)/Supernatural fusion

Spoilers for The Crazies (2010) below

Sam had gotten wind of a case before you all had even fully showered and slept after taking out a nest of vamps. The rundown motel that you had stopped at for a few hours reeked of mold and shame and you were sitting on the bed closest to the bathroom reading a novel when Sam barged into the room, laptop in hand.

“Dude!” Dean yelled, pulling his pants all the way up, having just emerged from the bathroom moments earlier. Sam completely ignored him, flopping down next to you prompting you to set aside your novel and give him your attention, Dean grumbling not so quietly in the corner.

“So get this,” Sam began, typing furiously against the keys of his laptop, the click clack almost drowning out Dean’s next complaints.

“Dude.” He said again, this time running a hand down his face and shaking a few water droplets from his shower wet hair. “We are exhausted. I have to get at least four hours before I dive back in. You can’t have already found a hunt in the six minutes we’ve been here.”

Sam ignored him again, scrolling through the report he hacked his way to. “You were the one who said we should take on as many cases as possible.” Sam didn’t look up from his computer, but you saw the eye roll Dean threw toward his brother and you stifled a giggle.

“Besides, this is right up our alley. It’s a small town in Pierce county. Some guy walked onto a baseball field with a shotgun and was gunned down by the sheriff after refusing to lower the gun.”

“So?” Dean responded, throwing a few flannels into his duffel as his brother spoke, clearly giving in to another hunt.

“So,” Sam continued finally looking up at Dean and closing his laptop. “Toxicology report came back negative, and another guy in the same town burned his house down with his wife and seven-year-old son trapped inside. Sounds like our kind of thing.”

“Oh my God…” You responded placing a hand over your mouth, unable to imagine what kind of monster would do such a thing. Sam rubbed a hand down your back comfortingly as he continued to fill Dean in on where they were headed and what their plan was once they got there. Dean let out a few more complaints before grabbing his and your duffel and stomping out to the car. As the hotel door slammed behind his brother, Sam smiled at you gently, and you picked up your novel and followed quietly behind him out the door.

You all loaded up the car quickly and hit the road, Dean’s mood leveling out as soon as he got behind the wheel. Sam continued to type away on his phone researching as much as possible, and you placed your ear pods in succumbing to your calming music playlist and settling into the worn leather, watching corn fields whip past the back window. You realized you had fallen asleep when you pulled into the sleepy town in the middle of the night, the slowing of the vehicle waking you up. The town was eerily dark and quiet, the only sound the rumble of the Impala’s engine and you sat up turning off your music to look through the windshield at the main street of town. The town looked like it emerged straight from a Western, but there were a few modern buildings, a coffee shop right next to the sheriffs’ station. The only thing that seemed out of place were the lack of streetlights. And people.

“This doesn’t feel right.” Sam started glancing from left to right down the deserted street. Dean grunted lowly in response maneuvering the Impala around a car parked in the middle of the road, doors thrown open, seemingly abandoned. Dean turned the car off of main street and you stepped into a completely different scene.

Through the windshield were hundreds of people, running and screaming, their faces tilted toward the sky as they were rounded up by men in camouflage military outfits with gas masks strapped tightly to their faces. The men continued to gather all of the stray people who were begging for answers and stuff them into vehicles up ahead.

“What the hell?” Dean huffed out in shock, putting the car in park, headlights shining on the scene in front of them. A woman turned toward us abruptly and screamed for help before she was tackled by a soldier and taken back to the group. Before any of us could react, we were being pulled roughly from the Impala, multiple men restraining Sam and Dean while another pulled you by the arm from the backseat.

“Dean!” You screamed out in shock as the man wrapped your arms tightly behind your back and shoved you forward toward the other people being ushered into what looked to be a school bus. You flailed around as much as you could, kicking your legs back behind you hoping to find the man’s shins or if you were lucky his groin. Three other men had Sam face-down in the ground and Dean was putting up a good fight against five others who were slowly circling him like he was a wild animal. He broke free from the circle of camo-clad men and ran to you, pulling you roughly from the man’s arms, who stumbled forward onto the pavement.

“Y/N,” Dean started, gripping you by the shoulders, green eyes wild and scared. “Run!”

You took off running forward into the darkness, knowing you couldn’t go back toward the soldiers. You weaved in and out of people hoping to find cover in an abandoned building, when you were pushed from behind and dove spread eagle onto the pavement, a knee coming down onto the middle of your back, successfully halting you.

“Get your hands off her!” You heard Dean shout from behind you, a few of the soldiers getting control of his arms and placing him face-down in the dirt as well. From your position you could see Sam, who had relaxed a bit under the men’s hold.

“Dean just relax. Let’s get on the bus and figure out what is happening.” Sam’s hazel eyes met yours and you nodded as best you could, and he offered you a reassuring smile in response. The soldier with his knee to your back lifted you up by the hands and ushered you toward the bus once again. Once aboard you took a seat toward the middle, Sam and Dean following, Dean hurrying to your side to sit next to you, and Sam sitting in the seat in front of you both.

“Are you okay, Sweetheart?” Dean asked gruffly, taking your face in his hand and gently moving it left and right trying to find a beam of light to see. You had some marks from the pavement on your cheek, but what hurt the most were your hands and you offered them up to Dean lightly, who swiped at the gravel stuck in the cuts and scrapes. You hissed, glancing up at Sam who watched attentively, keeping one eye on you two while glancing at the slew of passengers coming aboard.

“What do you think is going on?” You whispered so only the brothers could hear you, as the bus began to move, swaying the bodies who hadn’t found a seat yet back and forth. Sam shook his head in response and stared out the window. You mirrored him as Dean continued to pick the gravel from your palms.

It wasn’t long before your bus pulled up alongside at least 20 others parked behind a large building just outside of town, a sign on the wall reading “Welcome to Ogden Marsh H.S. home of the Tigers!” You looked out the window at all of the people being packed behind chain-link fences, the harsh light illuminating their tired and terrified faces. You leaned further into Dean as you watched, a voice on an intercom instructing everyone to exit the bus and keep moving. Dean gripped your shoulders keeping you in-between him and Sam, Sam holding your hand tightly as you walked single file up the walkway and stepped off into the cold night air. You were all pushed rapidly into a white emergency tent where men in full hazmat suits were waving glowing wands at everyone.

“Hey!” Dean yelled at the closest soldier as we were continually pushed forward. “What’s going on?” Sam’s hand continued to grip yours and Dean walked protectively close to you as the men ignored his shouts and we continued on. Suddenly, a loud beeping erupted from the tent and men scattered toward the sound, shouting about a temperature spike. A mother and child were standing in the corner when the little girl was ripped from the mother’s arms and passed off to a soldier while the girl cried out for her mom, kicking and screaming. The mother was being held back by a few soldiers while she reached out desperately for her child.

“Stop!” You yelled ripping your hand from Sam’s and running toward the little girl, trying to pry the man’s hands off of her, as the girl cried for you to help her. “What are you people doing?!” You shouted in the man’s face. Another soldier held you back from throwing any punches when the beeping began again, and you realized a man with one of the wands was holding it toward you.

“Y/N!” Dean yelled, grabbing your hand as you were flanked by soldiers who picked you up roughly off the ground and dragged you toward another tent.

“Dean…. Sam!” You yelled, throwing your head back like a child having a tantrum, desperately grabbing onto Dean’s hand to keep the men from taking you from them. Sam shoved a few of the soldiers roughly to the ground as Dean continued to hang on, keeping them away from him, when one threw a lucky punch and Sam crumbled to the ground.

“Sam!” You cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks, as a few of the men grabbed roughly onto Dean forcing him to let go of your hand.

“Get off me!” He screamed, fighting toward you.

“Dean!” You continued to shout desperately as the men brought you closer and closer to the unmarked tent. The last thing you saw, before the tent flap closed behind you, was Dean’s green eyes wild and his hand reaching out toward you desperately.

Read part II here!

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