#n yeah that hair clips do fall under ‘can be easily taken on and off and thus a separation between personal and work life’

[ravenatural]

just ‘cause I’m thinking about it, but your place of employment should not get to control aspects of your appearance that bleed into your personal life

dress code for things like clothing and shoes? understandable, you can just change into and out of them for the work environment—ergo, it’s a solely work based change that you can separate from your personal life

controlling what color or style for your hair, what kinds of piercings you have, and visible tattoos? things that are a personal life choice that aren’t so easy to change, that your place of employment is encroaching upon by saying you can’t have it? That’s a no go, and quite frankly I think it sets some alarming precedents for them to be able to have a say in things like that

maybe it’s just me, maybe it’s not even on purpose, but it seems to me like it’s a way to blur the line between personal and work life just enough to be socially acceptable and to be seen as more a source of aggravation than something setting some concerning work / life balance expectations

[unholyobsessions]

Story of Another Us

Pairing: Luke Patterson x fem!Reader

Description: After Julie finds a song Luke wrote about you, he reminisces on his moments with you

A/N: The song Luke wrote is Story of Another Us by 5 Seconds of Summer i highly recommend listening to it

Warnings: Cussing

Word count: 1.7k

Part 2

Julie is a curious person by nature, nobody can deny that. So when Luke gave her his journal and told her to look at all the dog eared songs, she couldn’t stop herself from reading them all. When she got to the last song in the journal she hesitated. It was not dog eared and looked to be the newest written. Most words were crossed out and corrections were written between the margins, she turned the page to find the final version of the song, written coherently. She raised her brows at the wet spots that stained some of the words. She read through it, her own eyes tearing up and threatening to smudge the beautiful lyrics composed by her lead guitarist.

The faint pop Julie has grown to recognize startles her. She meets Luke’s eyes and tries to flip the notebook back to another page but he catches sight of it before she can.

He stays quiet for a second and Julie bites her lip in anticipation.

“What is it that you always say Jules? Boundaries?” The look in his eyes is a mixture of anger, betrayal, and pure sadness, and it breaks Julie’s heart.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. She doesn’t know what else to say and ultimately decides to risk asking the question that is on the forefront of her mind. “Luke, who is the song about?”

He sighs and takes a sit next to her on the bed, there’s no point in lying to her. “My girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Julie asks, both confused and surprised.

“Yeah ex-girlfriend I guess. We uh dated back in the 90s,” a sad smile on his face as he spoke. “She was there the night of the concert but she hated hotdogs so she stayed back with Bobby at the Orpheum. I didn’t want to think about her when we first came back but last week I looked her up and I went to see her. She has a family, married, children everything that we talked about having together.” Tears were falling down his face and Julie wanted nothing more than to be able to hug him.

“I-“ she started but what was she supposed to say? Luke shook his head, not finished talking.

“Her youngest son, his name is-“ he pressed a fist against his mouth, biting back a sob. “She named him Luke.” It’s something that took him by surprise when he heard her call his name. For a second he thought she meant him, but then he saw the cute nine-year-old dashing into the room, smiling brightly at his mother.

“Oh.”

“And I am so happy for her but I just, I guess I finally realized just how much I lost that night.” He finally turned his head and made eye contact with Julie.

“Tell me about her,” she said. Luke’s eyes widened, not expecting that to be her response. He regained his composure and nodded his head, thinking back to the moments you shared together.

. . .

You’re sitting on the couch, waiting for the boys to get back to the studio after playing at the pier for change. You actually had school and therefore could not go and watch them but you have the rest of the day off and decided to spend it with your favorite people.

The loud, excited voice of your boyfriend breaks you from your thoughts. He pushes the door of the garage turned studio open and smiles when he spots you. He rushes to the couch and throws himself on top of you. You grunt and try to push him off, which only causes him to hold you tighter.

“Get off me you doofus. You’re sweaty and gross,” you exclaim. He looks at you in mock hurt and you use his surprise to your advantage and push him off the couch. You sit up and wave at the rest of the guys.

Bobby smiles and shakes his head walking forward to ruffle your hair. Alex and Reggie make it seem like they will throw themselves on top of you too and you scream, raising your arms over your head in defense, making everyone laugh. You stick your tongue out at them and look down at your boyfriend still laying on the floor.

“How was your physics test?” He asks, remembering last night’s mental breakdown about you not understanding anything. He always felt useless in those situations, never having taken physics himself after dropping out, so he couldn’t help you study. He normally just holds you close and hopes you stop crying, because regardless of what Alex says, he would never leave you to cry alone.

“Meh, pretty sure I passed but I never know.” You shrug your shoulders dismissing any thoughts of your grades.

Bobby laughs and points an accusatory finger at you, “You always say that and you always end up being the highest score. Don’t give us that ‘meh’ bullshit.”

You throw a pillow at him but he easily catches it and throws it at Reggie, who gets hit in the head. Reggie complains and both you and Bobby chuckle at his inconvenience.

Luke finally gets up from the floor and sits next to you on the couch, pulling your body to lean against his. You’re used to this proximity, realizing early in your relationship that Luke is a very touchy person and has to have physical contact with someone at all times.

You smile and look up to him, asking how the performance at the pier went. He excitedly goes on about how people complemented them and how he knows that they are on their way to becoming big and you can’t help but agree. If there is one thing you know is that Sunset Curve is on their way to greatness.

. . .

“She believed in me, in all of us. Every second of spare time she had, she spent helping us get gigs. She would even sit on that old coach while we practiced and do her homework.”

Julie smiled at the way his eyes lit up. “She sounds amazing. Though I am surprised she was able to concentrate with you guys playing.”

Luke laughs and shakes his head. “She was not. She would yell at us and blame us if she didn’t do well on a test, but we always convinced her to stay when she tried to leave.”

. . .

You tried to block out the loud playing of instruments as you read Lord of the Flies for your english class. You snap the book shut and let out a frustrated sigh standing up abruptly and making your way out the door.

Luke stops singing and slips his guitar off before rushing over to you.

“Hey where are you going?” Luke asks a little breathless, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his body still full of adrenaline.

“I can’t concentrate,” you reply. “I’m pretty sure I have a test on the first four chapters tomorrow.” You look up to find him pouting adorably at you. You roll your eyes and try to leave again but he grabs your arm.

“We’re almost done. Let us just finish this song and then we were all just going to write. Just don’t leave.” His eyes are pleading with you and you know that you won’t decline. You let him lead you back to the couch and you sit down, reopening your book and trying to finish the chapters assigned.

Five minutes later the guys were all milling on different areas of the studio with a pen and an instrument, working on melodies as Luke works on lyrics on the floor in front of you leaning back against your legs. You run your hand absentmindedly through his hair as the other holds up the book.

The pager clipped to your jeans beeps and you glance down at it, your eyes widening when you see the message. You stand up quickly, dropping your book on Luke’s head in the process. You ignore the calls of pain and protest from your boyfriend as you run out of the shed and into the house. You greet Bobby’s mom and walk to the living room where the landline is at. You dial the number quickly and mumble “pick up” repeatedly under your breath. The club owner picks up and you talk for about fifteen minutes. At the end confirming a gig for Sunset Curve every Saturday this month at one of the hottest clubs in LA.

You scream with joy and run back to the studio yelling for their attention.

“Guess who just booked you guys a gig!” You exclaim, a joyous smile on your lips. The boys all jump up from their places around the room and rush to hug you but you raise your hands stopping them in their tracks. “Sunset Curve will be performing every Saturday this March at The Reserve!”

They all freeze, mouths opening in shock before they tackle you in a hug and jumping around in excitement. Luke pulls you close against him and kisses you desperately, trying to convey every emotion he is feeling at the moment. The guys cheer like they always do whenever Luke kisses you in front of them.

They all give you their thanks and a hug before Luke pulls you back to the couch, picking up his lyric journal and placing your hand back in his hair. The room is still buzzing with excitement but your force yourself to concentrate as you pick your book back up and continued reading.

. . .

Luke looks down at his hands, “She was the love of my life, quite literally, and I guess that now in my death I have to learn to live without her.”

Julie let her hand hover over his and if she concentrated hard enough she swears she could feel the heat radiating off his skin. “It’s a beautiful song Luke and she sounds like she loved you very much. Just remember that getting over her doesn’t mean forgetting her.”

Luke smiles at his friend, thankful to have met her and have her be a part of his (after)life. He looks down at his journal, eyes skimming over the song. “Do you think,” he pauses. “Do you think it’s good enough to perform?”

Julie stares him like he’s insane. “Anything you write is good enough to perform, especially this song.” Luke turns away, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Thanks Jules.”

[trashforhockeyguys]

Vienna Waits For You -3- William Nylander

A/N: So I think this counts as the start of their friendship? Or at least them no longer hating each other. As always, all previous parts are linked in my masterlist! Enjoy!

The apartment was quiet, save for the sound of the old game she was trying to watch. Frustrated, Avalyn took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes, hoping the screen would stop being blurry if she just took a second away from it. She could very easily be out with some other members of the cast, drinking and having a great night. Or she could be like Jackson, who seemed to be spending a lot of time with various members of the team. 

It was good for him though, he didn’t have many guys around him that understood the game that he devoted many years to. She often wondered if Jackson regretted giving up hockey so he could act instead. She remembered his last game, the way he looked so defeated when the buzzer sounded, despite the fact that they’d won. 

The knock on her door was enough to pull her away from her little hockey bubble. Maybe Jackson decided to stop by after all. She didn’t bother trying to make herself look any better, after all, Jackson witnessed her looking far worse than this.

William shifted his weight, hoping she wouldn’t slam the door in his face. Especially not after he literally ran to go find ice cream. He figured Jackson’s tip couldn’t hurt. He’d been a dick to her, so he wouldn’t blame her if she refused to talk to him. He probably wouldn’t talk to him either. 

He expected to see her all done up, like she always seemed to be, but instead the girl that opened the door was a far cry from that. Her hair was a little curly, but not like she’d curled it, more like that's just how her hair dried. She had sweats on, an old worn college sweatshirt that wasn’t her’s, but maybe one of her parent’s? What really surprised him was the fact that she didn’t have a single bit of makeup on, and she was wearing glasses. He hadn’t seen so much as a single picture of her without makeup on, or with glasses. 

“Oh- I uh,” She seemed to stumble back a few steps, “I thought you were Jackson. How do you- how do you know where I live?”

“Jackson,” William shrugged, “He’s downstairs at Auston’s place.”

“What?” Avalyn questioned, not being able to process much of anything. 

William smiled almost shyly, “Auston lives two floors below you. Jackson suggested that I come up and try not to be a dick.”

“Are you capable of that?” She regretted even asking the second the words left her mouth. 

“I brought chocolate ice cream, if that makes a difference?”

Avalyn sighed and stepped away from the door, pushing it all the way open for him, “I’ll get bowls.”

William wasn’t sure what he expected from her apartment, but he didn’t expect it to be fairly empty. It didn’t feel like a home, more like a cold apartment, half furnished so someone could at least live in it. Even Auston’s place felt more like a home, granted that’s mainly because his mom and sisters came to decorate when he first got it. 

“Sorry, I-” Avalyn shook her head, “I’m still trying to get settled or whatever.”

William nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets, watching as she started dipping the somewhat melted ice cream, “I get it.”

He eyed the bookshelf, which seemed to be the one piece of furniture that she really put some thought into. There didn’t seem to be any space for any more books, some even seemed to be doubled up. He smiled slightly, there was something human about her after all. He thought back to Jackson saying that she hadn’t been able to be herself in a very long time. Maybe this was a rare glimpse at who she might be.

“So uh- Jackson told you to come up here?” She asked, not really understanding what was happening. 

“Something like that,” William replied, “Are you watching one of our old games?” 

Avalyn felt her face turn a little red as she handed him one of the bowls, “Well, it’s hard to go to an actual game, no one really knows that I’m here yet. Besides, I can watch more online and I get the option to replay things.”

He looked at her for a second, watching the way she started to eat big spoonfuls of her ice cream. She didn’t seem at all like the person he’d seen earlier today, or the person he’d been told about. Maybe she had a point when she told him that he should at least try to hear her side of the story.

“You said I didn’t know your side,” He said abruptly, “So, what is your side?”

She stopped eating for a moment and took a deep breath, “It’s complicated, and messy, like Shakespearean level messy. We all knew each other as kids, Jackson, Margret, and I. The three of us started around the same time, landed a few roles together and just kind of became best friends. We did everything together, and would’ve done anything for each other. Things changed, Jackson and I did some things to protect Margo that should really stay between the three of us...and I don’t know. She just took it all the wrong way and was convinced that I took Jackson from her, which isn’t the case. But she wouldn’t let either of us explain, things just ended up getting really out of had.”

“So all of this over that guy?” William blew out a breath, “No offense, he’s cool or whatever, but he isn’t worth all of that.”

“She said some things on the record and got blacklisted,” Avalyn added, “Everyone says she’s a terror to work with, among other things. She blames it all on Jack and I. It is what it is. You can believe me or not, I don’t care.”

He looked down at the small coffee table. Notebooks were strone all across it, drawings and neat handwriting covered all of the pages. He noticed the diagram of a rink, along with explanations all around it. He couldn’t help but pick it up and look closer at it. 

“So, how much do you know?” He asked. 

She leaned back into the couch, “Not enough. The technicalities I understand, the mechanics and how the game is supposed to work. But the lingo and how it actually works, that I’m lost on.”

He smiled lightly, “Yeah, that I can help with.”

She watched as he leaned forward and grabbed her notebook and laptop. He closed the windows she’d been flipping between and instead pulled up a movie. He smiled lazily, putting his feet up on the coffee table, “This is the first step.”

“What is this exactly?” She questioned. 

“This is Slap Shot. We’ll watch the Mighty Ducks, Goon, and Miracle later. But to understand a hockey team, you have to at least see Slap Shot.”

“I-” She shook her head and pulled the blanket from off of the back of the couch, “Okay, if you say so.”

“For the record, I still think you might be a stuck up bitch,” He shrugged, “But you were right, I do want what’s best for the sport, and my little sisters would actually fly over here and murder me if they found out I refused to help you.”

Avalyn couldn’t help but smile lightly, just the slightest up curve of her mouth, “I still think you might be a selfish prick, but I want the crew to be taken care of.”

“Then I guess it’s settled.”

A week later, Avalyn found herself sitting at a table with William and other Maple Leafs, as well as various members of the cast. They were all laughing at stories that the hockey team was telling, mainly of things they did in their youth. 

As Avalyn sat laughing, she realized that this was more than just a team, they were a family too. A close knit band of brothers. Jackson used to talk about how his old team was like that, but Avalyn hadn’t seen anything like it before. She wasn’t used to a close knit family unit like this, especially given how her parents raised her. 

Her notebook was still open in front of her, sometimes she would jot down a few things, especially hockey slang that she wasn’t yet familiar with. But she could say, without a doubt, that she was beginning to feel like she was a part of something bigger than just her. Something that went beyond the crew too. Because they had a whole team working with them too.

“So you two worked it out?” Mitch asked, gesturing to Avalyn and William. 

“Uh-” William scratched the back of his neck. 

“More like, called a cease fire,” Avalyn clarified. 

“Better than all out war,” Jackson joked, “Avey, we’re all going to get on the ice later today, you should come.”

She shook her head, kicking Jackson under the table. The last thing she wanted was to get on the ice for the first time in front of professional hockey players. She hadn’t skated in years, not since her and Jacky were kids. She didn’t want to embarrass herself, especially after she just got William to somewhat like her.

“I think I’ll pass for today,” She said nervously. 

The rest of the team and cast kept chatting, while William leaned over to Avalyn, “You can’t skate, can you?”

She felt her face turn red, “I can...I just haven’t since I was a kid.”

“We won’t let you fall, you know.”

She shook her head again, “I don’t want everyone to see me fail.”

“We all had to learn too you know, and some of the guys taught their girlfriends at the last family skate,” William explained, “We rented out the whole rink, it’s part of learning the ways of the team.”

She still shook her head, “You just want to make fun of me.”

“Well actually I wanted to help you, but if I get to laugh at you that’s a bonus,” He explained. 

“Asshole.”

“Bitch,” He smirked, “Avalyn is gonna come!”

“Hell yeah!” Mitch cheered, “You can ride over with me and Aus.”

“I hate you,” She whispered to William. 

“Yeah yeah, we established all of that.”

But the truth was, she was starting to dislike him less. They talked nearly everyday, sometimes he’d come to her apartment, and sometimes she would go to his. He would send her highlight clips, and ask if she understood what was going on. They would facetime so he could walk her through things, and she even made sure that she could watch his games, just so she could get more exposure to the sport. 

It was strange, she wouldn’t call them friends at all, but they weren’t enemies. Truth be told, neither of them knew what they were. But they wanted to do right by the show and by the small hockey community around the world. They never talked about Margot, but William slowly started to talk about his family and growing up in Sweden, and in other parts of the US because of his father’s hockey career. She liked hearing about his life, more than she thought she would. 

A few hours later, she found herself sitting on a beach just off of the rink. She had her skates on, but didn’t exactly know how to lace them up, and Jackson was nowhere to be seen. So she sat helplessly, hoping he would find her before one of the other guys did. 

“You can’t tie them, can you?”

She groaned before turning to the blond Swede before her, “Why is it always you?”

He shook his head before bending down in front of her, “Give me your foot, I’ll tie it. It’s supposed to be tight, okay? But not so tight that you can’t move.”

He started jerking on the laces, pulling each section as tight as he could, and then loosening some that he felt he got a little too tight. Avalyn tried not to think about how close they were, her foot was caught between his arms, the blade of her skate pushed into his chest. It almost felt too intimate to her. Like her skin would start crawling. But her skin instead seemed to burn with his touch, she could feel her whole body heat despite the cold temperature of the rink. 

“How’s that?” He asked, releasing her foot, “Not too tight?”

She wiggled her foot a bit, her ankle felt secure, not limp like it did before he tied them, “Uh no, I think it’s good.”

“Alright, good,” He nodded his head, “Other foot, and then we’ll get you out there.”

“I still don’t want to go out there,” She stated. 

“Do you want me to hold your hand?” He teased. 

“William, I’m serious, I haven’t skated since I was a kid. Even then I sucked ass,” She explained, “I’m going to fall and literally break my butt and everyone is going to laugh at me. You guys are professionals, you literally do this for a living. I don’t know how to skate on a blade that’s an eighth of an inch thick.”

He looked up at her, “I’m surprised you know how thick the blades are.”

She shrugged, “I told you I’ve been doing my research.”

He sat back, putting her other foot back down on the ground, “I won’t let you fall, okay? But even if you do, it’s fine. We fall sometimes too. I’ll even let you use the little kiddie rails too.”

She shook her head, grabbing onto the bench, “I think I’m going to stay right here.”

He held out a hand for her and flashed a big smile, “C’mon Avalyn Bradshaw Kreitzburg, I didn’t think you were one to back down from a challenge.”

“Avey!” Jackson yelled from the other side of the rink, “Get your ass out here!”

She took a deep breath, grabbing William’s hand, letting him pull her up, “Just don’t you dare laugh if I fall.”

“Yes ma’am,” He replied, “You better hold on tight though.”

[dreamties]

Slashers W/ a Soft Pastel S/O

A/n - So this one actually wasn’t requested, I just thought it would be super cute. And what I mean by “Soft Pastel”, I mean being into soft/pastel/kawaii fashion, I just didn’t know how to phrase it. Since there’s so many subcultures.

Trigger Warning: Slight Cursing (I say f*ck)

Also- these are gender neutral, but a few describe you in skirts/dresses, so if you’re not comfy with that, just skip that part or the whole thing?? :/

I might do more like this for other types of alternative fashion- like punk or something? Or a S/O who has a lot of body mods, I think it would be fun.

Characters: Billy/Stu, The Lost Boys, Helen Lyle, Daniel Robitaille/Candyman, Brahms Heelshire, and Amanda Young.

I didn’t add Michael Myers, but can do so if y’all want it. I just think he’d be very indifferent about it...didn’t think that would be very fun to read.

Billy Loomis + Stu Macher

Stu would be the most like into your outfits

Billy? Not so much. he just thinks you look cute in everything.

but if you did more guro-kawaii looks? they would both be all over that shit. 

it combines more of the grotesque in with the cute- which is just perfect for the boys. they get to see you dawned in all sorts of blood, guts/gore, bandage patterns/aesthetics.

and maybe even tying in different monster-ish elements. 

like wearing funky white or other unnatural colored contacts, really intense makeup(especially around the eyes), and fuck it, maybe you’re wearing faux demon horns.

I think they’d find it kinda hot. if we’re being perfectly honest here.

Now- would you able to get them into it as well?

Stu will ask you, with excitement reverberating throughout out his body and his voice. of course he want’s to at least try it!

so many clips in Stu’s hair. you haven’t even had that many in your hair before!

he may also wear rings sometimes. he thinks all the colors and designs are just so fun!

and on the other hand...

Billy, the guy that basically wore the same outfit for an entire movie? who’s closet only contains jeans and white t-shirts? trying out your style? i don’t think so lol

if you do- somehow- get him to try...

then you might have pressured him into it a bit? very jokingly, of course. 

“C’mon, humor me, babe. Stu’s already dressed and everything!” You try giving him puppy eyes to seal the deal.

“Fine!” Billy says, grabbing the garment and a few clips from your hands. He shuts the door too harshly behind him.

A short silence is shared, before you and Stu burst out laughing. “Do you think he’s mad at us?” You’re hardly able to get it out. Of course he was, but in his own odd way appreciated this adventure.

He comes back a moment later, his white t-shirt replaced with a pastel red one, an especially gory character printed on the front. and a red clip barely hanging on to one of the side pieces of hair in front of his face. You try to suppress a giggle at Billy’s messily put together look.

for the love of gosh- don’t actually laugh when he appears. he is very outside of his comfort zone, and he’s only doing this because he loves you and Stu, and just,, don’t add this to his list of reasons not to try new things.

whatever your reaction ends up being, you’re absolutely obligated to tell them how attractive they look in it(even Billy who looks hella dorky).

(my art)

The Lost Boys

the comparison between their dark, punk-ish style and then the sweet baby pinks and blues, and soft lavenders that adorned your form?? 

it’s just too sweet.

they are completely enamored by your style- even if certain vampires (and I’m not naming any names, but I definitely mean David) may not show his love for your look as openly

Marko- he’d get one cutesy patch for his jacket, so he has like a little piece of you everywhere he goes. also...he genuinely ended up really digging your style? but not enough to abandon his punk look completely. he is still totally dedicated to that.

the other boys will absolutely mess with him about the patch though

all in good fun!

David’s not letting you near his hair with any extra clips or accessories. 

Dwayne enjoys the quiet intimacy shared between the two of you. just sitting together, you might be styling his hair( super loose ponytail or braid- admit it, it would be so cute! and helpful so his hair isn’t always in his face!)...anyways, you’d use a colorful hair tie, and a few clips to help pin back his hair. 

he probably won’t go out with the clips in, but if it’s just the five of you at the cave? he’ll keep it in until it’s time to sleep. 

he loves seeing how happy and accomplished you look after finishing with his hair tho.

Paul is hands down the most likely to get into the whole look and go out in public with it on. 

makeup? hell yeah. it won’t be as intense as yours, and he probably only does the eyes and maybe some shine. sparkly vampire time

hair accessories? all of them

would try combining his look with yours, to have a perfect mess of it.

a light, light  blue mesh top, slightly darker blue jacket(with slight accents in pink, purple, white or black), and his usual sort of white jeans(?) would still look great with it. he’s absolutely rocking that look.

you are ecstatic to finally have someone else to share your passion with! (much harder to find similar folks when you’re a vampire,,)

Helen Lyle

she’s so used to the plain life around her, and she’d been living before you- you were such a breath of fresh air.

of course, you’re darling personality also drew her into you- but your fashion sense? it fascinated her.

she’s not trying it herself anytime soon, but she appreciates the fact that you enjoy it. 

the most she would ever try is a very natural makeup look. and a coat or two of a pastel color of her choice.

she would love watching you get ready. not so much help out though- she just likes seeing the way you approach things. how you choose to pair certain pieces with one another.

she’ll ask questions to better understand your interests! not that it’s weird or wrong that you’re into it, she’s just a very inquisitive person.

you’d wear a lot of blue though- because you know Helen likes that color.

imagine wearing coordinated looks for different events and such. so, when you go with Helen to help out with her Candyman thesis, you might wear candy-themed attire. (of course in this universe,, she wouldn’t die! so no worries of that! you get to keep you’re gf).

if you do gift her something, she keeps it on her bedside table(or dresser). so she can still admire it, and still serves a purpose. fun décor!

all around though- Helen would be very chill, but captivated, about you’re interests.

Daniel Robitaille - Candyman

 his life is so dark and gruesome, and he loves seeing you all dressed up. 

and while he’s dead- long dead- and isn’t really apart of the world in the same sense that you are- it gives him this happy sense of hope for the world.

because there’s this very small thing, that you hold close to your heart, that makes you smile.

Also!!

even if they’re apart of a super awful, traumatic, part of his past- the bees are just a part of the family now.  

so cute yellow/spring/bee themed outfits?? yes. ohh definitely, yes.

As for him dressing up? He’d feel hesitant.

he’s filled with immense joy around you, but is almost scared with someone altering part of his attire or self in any way(rooted back to, again, past stuff).

but part of loving is to take the person as a whole, bad parts, good parts- insecurities- the entire package. and trusting one another.

he has his whole faith in you not to do anything bad.

and so, it becomes a habit for the two of you to spend mornings together, chatting and getting ready. well, you’re getting ready, it’s more for the quality time together for him.

things are little different for Daniel. for many reasons. 

one, he has very short hair. so the clips don’t really work there..

two- he only has one hand, and he’s “working” a lot with the appendages he does have. rings won’t work out because they might fall off- and he’d hate to lose something of yours.

three- he’s not a big makeup fan. he’s happy enough watching you put it on.

and then for his actual attire- he needs the coat to cover his insides. it’s also, in a way, his uniform.

you’ve settled on two things.

making homemade necklaces that can easily hide under his big coat (either sweets or honey/bee themed).

and sewing little patterns on the inside of his coat. other’s wouldn’t be able to see it, but he would know it’s there.

Brahms Heelshire

imagine being super into sorta ‘sweet lolita’, pastel/soft colors, bows, the big skirts, all the sorta ruffles(?)

 and then especially if your shorter than Brahms(which is really,, not hard to do unless you’re insanely tall cause he’s,, 6 foot 3.)- and he thinks you look like such a doll? 

but like,, in a nice way. 

I think he’d get pretty excited if he got to help you set up your outfits!

especially if you praised him for picking out a good combo, or organizing correctly.

and some of Brahms movements are a bit awkward, he’s spent most of his life in the walls and the attic...but imagine turning on his music, and just dancing with him. having him twirl you in his arms a few times.

Brahms loves having your hands through his hair. and if hair accessories means he gets more of that love and attention? then yes,, yes he will wear them.

he just likes feeling taken care of, and along with your usual duties, you help him figure out the soft fashion styles, and how to make it more appealing and suitable for his own tastes.

because- as you insist- you want it to be something he enjoys just because he does, and not just for the closeness. though you can’t deny you love that aspect, too.

i can tell you one thing right here, though. you’re never getting makeup on him. he does not like taking off his mask, even if you’ve been in a relationship with him for a while, he still hides his face a lot.

you’d offered to do his makeup once, since he was staring so intently as you did yours. you’d made the mistake of reaching for his mask. you’d usually ask before doing so, but sometimes you’d slip up.

You apologize profusely, offering your arms out to him for a hug. “There, there, Brahms.” You smile, giving him a slight squeeze of affection. 

he does take your stuff sometimes. 

it’s a little annoying when you think you’ve lost your favorite accessory or dress or etc and then you just realize,, oh, it’s my favorite wall boy again. thank gosh you love him, so you’re not really upset or anything.

he just likes having little reminders of you, it gives him reassurance. upon other warm and fuzzy feelings.

if you’re able to find time in your day though, you’ll make cute little trinkets or bracelets for him. you’ll gift them or purposely leave them out for him-  so you’ll still have some of your stuff when it comes to getting ready the next day.

in short- he’d much rather look at you than partake on his own. 

Amanda Young

she’s never seen anything like this! :0

everyone she knows, herself included, tend to wear more dulled, plain clothes.

she’s immediately very intrigued by your attire...sort of want’s to try it, but is a bit self conscious and embarrassed to ask.

So!! you start out with small things, and fairly early on you both realize that she loves when you decorate her hair with accessories. 

gifting Amanda a pair of little pig clips!!

or little stud earrings- those would be fricking adorable on her!

and she’s just so happy,, wtf

you dress mostly for yourself, but the more you’re in a relationship with your gf- the more you want to dress for her as well. 

you can see this little sparkle in her eye when she sees you, and you want to keep seeing that look for as long as you can.

you slowly get her into it. your relationship and Amanda’s interest in your style just gives her so much light in an otherwise dim world.

if she did get into it, I think she’d do more creepy/cute. as a way to sort of cope with past trauma. that this sort of “bad” thing (the creepy) can still coexist with the good (the cute). she admires that quality.

just very sweet partners, who happen to love similar types of fashion 

[yoongiseesawmp3]

brown piano - yoongi

i’ve never written fic on this account before so bear with me, but here’s a little something about the only man i trust. and no i will not be capitalizing anything xx

summary: friends to lovers. yoongi and y/n have known each other casually for a couple years and never intended to take their friendship further than a few study groups together or the occasional dinner with friends. but being in the same applied piano class has brought them together, and their mutual love for epik high bonds them more than they’d like to admit. 

warnings: language, probably. there’s a couple cliches in here too, i couldn’t help it. i probably only refer to yoongi as a honey dumpling twice 

word count: 8.3k (its really just a long ass love letter to bv4/in the soop yoongi)

playlist: end of the world - epik high, gsoul / love song - epik high, park sung woong / go - epik high / can you hear my heart - epik high, lee hi / life is good - epik high, jay park

“fuck,” you whisper, nimble fingers slipping over the wrong keys once again. for a music composition major, you’re pretty lousy at practicing your instrument. mostly because you practice and mess up and get so frustrated that you stop for a minute to scroll through your phone and before you know it, your time in the practice room is over. 

the time limit on your practice contributes to your stress, but the keyboard you keep tucked in the corner of your apartment just doesn’t do this song justice. a lot of the students in the school of music ignore this room, because the old brown spinet creaks too much for their “high class” performances, but you like it for its personality and the all-encompassing feeling it gives to your songs. when you play this piano, you can’t help but listen to its song. a keyboard or a grand can easily become background music to you, but this one is stubborn. it will not be ignored, so you come back to it when you need to fall in love with a song again. 

the pinging of your phone pulls you out of your daydreams about the daunting black and white keys in front of you, and you check the time left on your reservation before opening your messages. 

it’s a text from yoongi, who’s been talking to you more often lately. usually you just exchange pleasantries with each other when your big group of friends happens to get together, but you’re both in this applied piano class and it was nice to have a familiar face among the pretentious students you struggle to get through lectures with. 

the quiet music technology major never caught your attention before this class, because he never had much to say when you were talking in passing. but this class has taken your friendship from nonexistent to yoongi texting you semi creepy photos of you through the practice room door with the text “your posture is shit, that’s probably why you keep messing up.” you swivel around on the bench to glance at the door and notice a mop of black hair in the distance. he must be finishing up a session in one of the studios because he’s usually your competition for this practice room. the piano reminds him of the one he played growing up, he says, so it’s the easiest for him to practice on. he’s more gifted than you are however, so he doesn’t need to practice for class as much as you do. hell, he could probably think of a song to play on the spot and still ace the performance midterm without another thought. 

“where are you headed?” you text back, shuffling your sheet music together as neatly as possible before you start gathering the rest of your things. “i sounded so bad that you’re running away?”

“no,” he replies, and you can picture his shoulders shaking with a silent laugh. “need coffee.”

“omw,” you text quickly, going from tenderly placing things in your bag to slightly shoving them down enough to zip everything up securely. you gaze sadly at the piano before you leave. you really should try and practice some more, you have a few minutes left in the room, but you let out a sigh and head for the door instead. you need coffee and your dumpling shaped friend right now. hopefully the combination will help you get over some of your stress.

you find yoongi just outside, leaning up against a pillar of the building with his hands in his pockets and a bucket hat that he’s produced out of nowhere pulled over his head. he peeks up at you from under the brim when he hears the rickety doors clang shut, and he smiles slightly before pushing himself off the stone column. 

“how’s the song coming?” he asks casually, leading the way to your mutual favorite coffeeshop like it’s second nature. which honestly, it’s getting to be like that. how did you go from barely knowing yoongi to spending almost every day with him? 

“uh, my fingers don’t work anymore i think,” you explain. “i’ll get it though. i just need to practice more.”

“i could always help you,” he offers. you quirk an eyebrow at him and he continues. “like, i could listen and maybe watch the way you’re playing, and if there’s a spot you’re constantly messing up on i’ll just know to cough a lot during that part of your performance so the professor doesn’t hear it.”

“wow, who would’ve thought that min yoongi would be my knight in shining armor,” you joke. “what were you working on?”

“another song for my mixtape,” he tells you simply. “i want to sample an epik high song, but i can’t find one that fits the vibe yet.” 

“hmm,” you think. “you’ll find one. or you can wait for their new album and use something off of that.”

“yeah, but i won’t have the same connection to those songs that i do with the old ones, you know?” 

“then just go back to your favorites. have you tried doing something like lesson one?” you ask as you arrive at the coffeeshop. yoongi opens the door for you and ushers you inside, scooting you out of the way so someone zooming by on a bird scooter doesn’t accidentally clip your heel. 

“when i first started working on this i tried doing my own version of it, but i don’t think anything i have to say would be better than tablo,” he explains.

“that’s not how you should be thinking when you’re making music,” you scold. “whatever you make will be worth listening to, and whatever you say in those songs will mean something. thinking like that will only limit what you make, min yoongi.”

he pauses and looks at you with an unreadable expression before he pulls his lips into a straight smile and nods. 

“huh. you’re right, y/n,” he sighs. 

“and for that little nugget of wisdom,” you say, “you owe me a coffee. toffee n-”

“toffee nut latte with no sugar, i remember,” he says, cutting you off as he pulls out his wallet. “what size?”

“considering i’m a little high strung from not nailing my song yet, probably a small,” you tell him. he nods and orders you a medium anyway and gets a muffin for you two to split. you fall into a comfortable silence as you wait for your order, but yoongi breaks it after checking his phone.

“namjoon wants to know if you’re free this weekend,” he deadpans, making it sound like a statement when it’s meant to be a question.

“i don’t know, why?” you ask, pulling the warmed muffin closer to you. you start picking out one of the chocolate chips before you continue. “isn’t it fall break? i’ll probably stay here and practice. it’s too short of a break for me to go home.”

“apparently we’re all staying in a cabin or a box or something up in the mountains,” yoongi says. “it’s supposed to be a combined birthday trip for him and jungkook, i think it might just be the guys but he says you’re welcome to come with us. he says you look stressed.”

“why does he think i look stressed?!” 

“because you do,” namjoon says, popping up beside you from one of the couches against the wall. he must have been buried in a book or his laptop, because neither of you noticed him when you first walked in. he gives you a casual side hug, tussling your hair and talking to yoongi above your head. “hey hyung.”

yoongi grunts a hello in response, and you share an eye roll with namjoon before he goes on about the whole mountain thing. he explains where it is, how long you’ll stay, and some of the other specifics that have already been arranged. it sounds nice, so maybe you should go.

“you should really come,” namjoon half pleads. “it’s kind of last minute, so not many of our friends can make it, but we need you to be the dj for the weekend. and i think you deserve a break.”

“you do,” yoongi chimes in, picking up your drinks and leading your small group to a table near the window. “it’ll help you come back to the song later without getting tired of it. you should never be frustrated when you’re playing.”

“i guess i’ll consider it,” you say. “you’re lucky i live too far away to go home for just a couple days, otherwise i would have to turn you down.”

“and i don’t need that kind of rejection on my birthday,” namjoon teases.

“your birthday was last month,” yoongi points out. 

“but i’m celebrating it now, hyung. birthday rules still count for the celebration of said birthday.”

“yeah, but it’s not fair that you played the birthday card then and you’re doing it again now...”

sipping your latte, you laugh to yourself as yoongi and namjoon go on with their petty argument. you notice a fleck of chocolate on yoongi’s lip from the muffin, and you involuntarily lift your hand to wipe it off, but you stop yourself before it can be noticeable. you just let your hand fall to your coffee cup and take another sip of your drink, thinking about how many clean sweaters you have that you can wear this weekend. 

-

you end up in the car with jin, hoseok and yoongi on the way to the cabin that they all rented. you’ve been roped into cooking duties for the weekend, and the four of you went grocery shopping before heading up to the mountains to meet everyone else. actually, you begged them to let you cook, bring booze, anything, since they didn’t let you chip in for the weekend at all in the first place.

“i’m not going to invite you last minute and then make you pay for anything,” yoongi told you clearly as you left the coffeeshop after talking to namjoon. “plus, jimin owes me at least $50 for ruining one of my mics, so i’ll just make him pay extra.”

like namjoon said, you are technically the dj for the weekend. you know the guys well enough to know what kind of music they want to listen to, so you crafted the perfect road trip playlist and shared it with hoseok, who’s in the front seat. he’s groaning and skipping each song he doesn’t like while jin calmly drives, complaining every now and then when hoseok skips a song jin knows all the words to.

and yoongi? well, he’s quietly scrolling through his phone beside you in the backseat. jin insisted on you sitting back there, claiming hoseok has some kind of carsickness that only appears when he sits in the back, so that meant you and yoongi were cramped in the tight space together. no biggie, but you keep bumping elbows with him, and you have to pee, and you didn’t sleep enough the night before so you’re already a little testy. you try to situate yourself so you hopefully forget about your need for a restroom and you bump into yoongi once again, and it sets you off. you don’t do anything aside from shoot him an angry glare before huffing a little bit and adjusting yourself so you’re fully looking out the window next to you. a few moments pass in silence save for the sound of go by epik high playing over the speakers. 

you’re pulled from your mini rant session in your head to, oh my god, yoongi nudging your arm. you’re ready to give him a piece of your mind when you turn to lock eyes with him, but the delicately peeled tangerine that he’s offering you is so...confusing? and slightly endearing, so you abandon your plan to be mean to him and just graciously take the sweet fruit. 

“where’d you get this?” you ask as you pull apart the half he handed to you.

“did he give you a tangerine?” hoseok asks with a smile, peeking at you both in the rearview mirror. 

“yeah, like out of nowhere too.”

“if it’s oddly warm y/n, don’t be alarmed. he keeps them in his pockets for safekeeping,” jin explains.

“in your pocket?” you laugh, making yoongi’s cheeks tinge pink. “have you ever sat on one?”

“i don’t wanna talk about it,” he grumbles, bowing his head to focus on peeling off the stringy white skin left on his slices of citrus. the car falls into silence again and you notice everyone bobbing along to the epik high song still playing. you smile to yourself and finally pop a piece of the tangerine into your mouth. 

it’s maybe the sweetest thing you’ve ever eaten, and you surprise yourself by thinking for a moment that its sweetness could be due to the fact that it came from yoongi. 

“are you still working on your mixtape hyung?” hoseok questions, once again warmly breaking the quiet of the car.

“yeah, why?”

“have you tried doing something like this?” he asks, referring to the last few bars of go that play as jin turns down a road that must be just seconds away from the house, it looks exactly like the pictures the boys have shown you and you let out a sigh of relief at the thought of a bathroom and a bed. 

“i have,” yoongi starts, peeking at you without turning his head. “y/n suggested it, actually. we talked about going back to this album for inspiration and it’s helped a lot.”

“it has?” you ask, beaming at the thought of bringing yoongi out of his funk with your mutual love of this group. yoongi simply shrugs and makes some non committal sound as the car comes to a stop.

“alright everybody, thank you for riding jin express. please don’t forget to rate and tip this ride in the app once you exit the vehicle,” jin jokes. everyone shuffles to get out of the car, and as hoseok pops the trunk you’re reminded that you really should start cooking right away. you politely ask hoseok to bring your bag in with his stuff, and he promises not to drop it before you grab some of the groceries and head for the kitchen. 

-

once everything is taken care of and the cars are unloaded, you find yourself in the middle of a crowded kitchen full of ingredients and booze and boys. not a bad place to be.

hoseok did bring your bag in for you, you can see it laying by the couch a few steps away from the kitchen island. you’ll just have to hope there’s a room left for you at the end of the night, because your back won’t do well on a sofa.

“so what are we making, chef min?” you ask, washing your hands after playfully pushing jimin out of the way.

“carbonara,” he says simply. “namjoon’s request.”

“and did you get what i asked for hyung?” jungkook asks, several beer bottles distributed evenly between both his hands. as he waits for yoongi’s answer he passes the bottles around until everyone has a drink and he looks satisfied.

“yeah, we got the pizza stuff. we’ll make it tomorrow when we watch the movie.”

“what movie are we watching?” you’re curious, only because the last movie you watched with them was one you’ve all seen hundreds of times collectively so it was less watching and more reciting the movie line for line.

“that’s a secret,” jungkook says with a glint in his eyes. “my choice.”

“it’s gonna be some sappy love story, i’d bet ten bucks on it,” jin jokes.

“make it twenty and i’m in,” taehyung adds. 

“oh you’re on.”

-

despite never cooking together before, you and yoongi are a well oiled machine. you receive some help from jin in the form of chopping or washing, but for the most part it’s you preparing everything, from the chicken to the sauce and handing it off to yoongi to be finished in the biggest pot of pasta you’ve ever seen. it smells amazing though, and you’ve attracted a park jimin who’s a few drinks ahead of the chefs and he has a mischievous idea in his head.

“so how long have you two known each other?” he starts out innocently, speaking more to you than to yoongi. 

“uh, i guess i met yoongi at a party freshman year, when i met all of you. but he was arguing with someone, so i didn’t get to say much. just introduced myself and moved on,” you explain. “we haven’t really been friends, at least i would say, until we took this piano class together.”

“and how’s that going?”

“fine, considering he and i are the most competent out of all of them,” you state matter of factly, earning a chuckle from yoongi.

“most of the kids in there took this class thinking it’d be an easy elective grade.” yoongi adds, sliding beside you and reaching across to grab the colander you just used to drain some vegetables. as he retreats you catch a whiff of his cologne and a hint of tangerine. you smile to yourself and turn back to jimin.

“plus yoongi and i played the same song for our first assignment, so i had to confront him about that to establish dominance.”

jimin laughs maybe too much at this, and yoongi pipes in from the stove to quickly change the subject.

“y/n, i’m gonna need the cheese for the topping soon.”

“yes chef!”

dinner is ready soon after that. jimin had to be removed from the kitchen for tasting things that weren’t quite cooked yet, and jin took his place next to you. it seems that all of the boys are interested in learning more about the person that yoongi insisted on inviting this weekend, but you don’t know that. after a final taste test from the three of you and several approving nods, jin summons everyone from the rest of the house.

“it’s ready!!!” jin yells. it’s too loud for the situation but you’ll soon learn that these boys usually are. it gets their attention though, because one by one they file into the kitchen and grab plates and start serving themselves. you get your own plate and follow behind taehyung, who’s currently wearing a blanket cape. while you wait, you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn around to find yoongi.

“y/n, i already made you a plate,” he tells you, holding up one of the two plates in his hands. “c’mon.”

“oh, thank you,” you reply, returning the plate in your hands and gratefully taking the one yoongi extends to you. 

“did you hear that? he made y/n’s plate and not mine,” jungkook pouts.

“yeah, my feelings are hurt,” jimin whines. 

“at least it’s not your birthday!”

“i wouldn’t have made you a plate no matter what, jimin,” yoongi defends himself. “but i wanted to be sure y/n sat next to me, i was at the food, i got a second plate. no biggie.”

“leave the man alone,” namjoon cuts in. “he’s being a good host to the outsider.”

“outsider?!” you ask incredulously. “i just made you dinner. be nice to me, birthday boy.”

“y/n, i looooooove you,” jungkook coos, plopping down at the table across from you and yoongi. “it looks delicious.”

“it really does,” namjoon agrees. “thanks for making it. especially you, y/n. you didn’t have to.”

“i don’t mind,” you shrug. “besides, i wasn’t sure how well any of you could cook and i didn’t want to eat shit for the weekend, so...”

your sly remark is met with a chorus of insulted voices, mostly from jin and yoongi, but jimin pipes in that he’s good at everything while namjoon and taehyung insist that they “try their best” in the kitchen, and jungkook just nods and says something about ramen for eight. 

“yoongi’s quite the chef, actually,” jin says. “he can make almost anything.”

“that’s impressive,” you say with a nod, peeking at yoongi. his cheeks are turning pink ever so slightly. 

“yeah, you should ask him to cook for you sometime,” jin continues. “maybe after one of your late nights in the music building.”

there are knowing glances exchanged all across the table, but you and yoongi are oblivious. he hasn’t looked up from his plate in a few minutes just to be safe, and you really have no clue, you think it’s some best friend inside joke. which it is, depending on how you read the situation. namjoon brings the attention back to what the plan is for tomorrow, and the little tension between you and yoongi dissolves without notice until it’s time for bed.

after dinner, everyone went their separate ways, jin and jungkook flocking to the game console in the living room with hoseok watching on, jimin and taehyung made a mess of the kitchen as they cleaned up after dinner, and you found yourself outside by the fire with namjoon while yoongi shuffled through the cars, mumbling about some bag of producing equipment he couldn’t seem to find. it was easy hanging out with them, which is saying something considering that these boys are basically family. but they’ve welcomed you with open arms, and it isn’t until you’re bundled up with a nice blanket and a crisp cider that you realize how much you needed a break like this.

your eyes start drooping as you stare into the fire, and namjoon seems to have the same idea as you because you both stretch at the same time and mumble something about going to sleep. he says he’ll handle the fire, and you take the blanket from his chair, along with yours, and trudge back into the living room.

“hey, where did you guys put my stuff?” you ask, looking behind the couch where you noticed your bags earlier. jimin and jungkook are the only ones left awake, and jimin glances at you quickly before replying.

“i think jin brought your things upstairs, y/n,” he explains. “first door on the left.”

“oh, thanks,” you reply, gently laying the blankets on the back of the couch before you head to the stairs. “night guys.”

“good niiight,” they both sing-song back, and you laugh as you shuffle up to your room. 

the door is closed, so you reach out to open it with no hesitation, but when you see yoongi sprawled out on the bed, you jump a little.

“damn, y/n, you scared me,” he mutters, sitting up and dropping the notebook he had been scribbling in. “do you need something?”

“uh, no?” you reply, looking around. “i just, um, jimin said this was my room, so, i guess i opened the wrong door, is all.”

“wait, are those your bags? i thought they were namjoon’s,” yoongi says, pointing to, yep, your bags, laying at the foot of the bed. 

“what?” namjoon asks, poking his head into the room. “i’m with jungkook.”

“are there any rooms left?” you ask, looking between them both. “i don’t want to intrude, so if i have to sleep on the couch-”

“what’s with all the chit chat?!” jin whisper yells, popping his head out of the room across the hall. 

“y/n doesn’t have a room,” namjoon answers.

“no, y/n is sleeping with yoongi,” jin says, face twisting into a smile once he realizes his wording. “i mean, the two of you are sharing a room. you have the biggest bed, so i thought it would be more comfortable.”

“are you sure there isn’t another room one of us can sleep in?” yoongi asks with a certain emotion hidden in his voice that you can’t quite place.

“nope, y/n is your friend, so you’re stuck together,” jin says with finality. “now shut up, i already have to listen to hoseok snoring, i don’t want to hear any more bickering about beds.”

“hey, i don’t snore!” a voice, obviously hoseok, shouts from behind jin. 

“good night!” jin laughs, shutting his door. namjoon chuckles as well, giving you and yoongi a sympathetic shrug before he heads to his own room. leaving you all alone with yoongi. you slowly turn back to him, quietly shutting the door behind you.

“i, uh-”

“sorry-”

“no, you go.”

“i was just gonna say i could sleep on the floor,” yoongi offers, but before he can even finish his sentence you’re shaking your head.

“no way,” you refuse. “it’ll be no biggie, right?”

“right,” he agrees. 

“right,” you nod, convincing yourself that this isn’t as awkward as it seems. “i’m, uh, gonna go change in the bathroom though.”

“that would be smart.”

-

falling asleep in the same bed as yoongi was no big deal. really, what was the harm? it’s not like this trip has awakened feelings for him that you didn’t know you had...except it absolutely has. which is why you’re so freaked out in the morning when you wake up next to the man you just dreamt about cuddling all night. 

wait.

your pillow wasn’t that warm when you went to sleep. 

and you weren’t holding onto anything either.

cool, yeah, no big deal, definitely. you’re just latched onto yoongi’s arm while you drool on his shoulder. very attractive and not at all weird friend behavior. as you’re silently freaking out, eyes barely open, you register warm breath hitting the top of your head, and you look up to catch yoongi staring at you.

“oh, shit, sorry,” he stutters, pulling his arm from your grasp too soon. “i’m sorry, i wasn’t, like, i was trying to figure out if you were awake or not-”

“yoongi, it’s fine,” you laugh. “you staring at me is better than me turning you into my personal teddy bear. sorry about that.”

“you’re good,” he mumbles, sitting up. his hand rubs at the back of his neck, something you register as his go to nervous habit, as he keeps speaking. “it was nice actually. uh, because of the cold.”

“right,” you say, smiling to yourself. a layer of silence falls over you both as you lay there and yoongi fumbles for a minute on his phone. now you’re the one staring, looking up at yoongi’s delicate features like someone just took a blindfold off of you and you’re seeing the world in such a clear, sharp image. you’re noticing yoongi like you’ve never noticed him before. 

to stop yourself from memorizing the outline of yoongi’s profile, you pull the covers off and get out of bed, groaning at the cold. you throw on an extra hoodie and some wool socks, noticing yoongi doing the same. once you’re both dressed, you’re staring at each other again, and the silence returns. it’s not awkward, just heavy, and you break it with a simple, “yoongi?”

“yeah?”

“don’t tell the guys i drooled on you, please.”

“as long as you don’t tell them i was staring at you.”

-

the kitchen is buzzing more than you thought it’d be, cups of coffee already poured and the stove sizzling with eggs, sausage and some sad attempt at pancakes. last night when taehyung said he tries to cook, this must be what he meant, because the finished plate of “pancakes” looks like...a good try. 

you beeline for the coffee, inhaling the comforting scent and enjoying the warmth it brings to your fingers. as you take your first sip you realize the boys have been quiet since you and yoongi ambled downstairs.

“so,” jungkook begins. “how’d you two sleep?”

“fine,” you both reply simultaneously, raising a few eyebrows from your audience. convincing. 

“sorry,” you apologize. “not a morning person.”

“neither is yoongi,” namjoon notes. 

“seems like it’s a good thing you’re sharing a room then,” jimin says over the rim of his coffee mug, smug smirk not as clearly hidden as he’d like it to be.

“hyung,” taehyung pouts from the stove. “can you help me with these?”

“i’m not good at flour-based things,” yoongi replies without a glance, deepening the pathetic pout on the chef’s face.

“i can help you, tae,” you offer, sliding past him and taking the spatula. he utters his gratefulness, going as far as kissing your hand, and yoongi finds his ears flaring red at the sight. chill out, he thinks to himself. tae’s just being tae. 

but jin notices the change in yoongi’s demeanor after taehyung’s playfulness. it seems that when it comes to the two of you, one of the boys will always notice something before either of you do. 

-

ok, so, something that wasn’t made totally clear to you is the fact that this is a ski trip, the main event of the weekend is skiing, and here you are with nothing thicker than a nice sweater to keep you warm. maybe it was mentioned in passing and you just didn’t pick up on it, but the conversation last night at dinner made you realize how under prepared you were. 

that’s how you end up shuffling through the ski lodge down the street, laden in several borrowed layers. an extra pair of pants from jimin, a hoodie from jungkook and a jacket from hoseok. and yoongi’s gloves, which he insists he won’t need because he suddenly has to work on his mixtape before he loses his inspiration. you wonder if it’s the sight of the mountain covered in artificial snow that does it, because you’re even thinking about how you wish you could paint or draw so you can capture the true beauty of this place. 

but yoongi knows the reason he has to write these lyrics down now is because of the lingering feeling of you holding onto his arm, head on his shoulder and delicate breaths brushing over his chest as you slept so peacefully. in all honesty, yes, he had been staring at you, for quite some time actually. and it was while he stared that he got the idea for this song. 

so, yeah, he needs to write it down now, and he figures the best time to do it without prying eyes is while everyone is occupied with skiing. he hunkers down in the ski lodge, promising to watch everyone’s stuff as the rest of you layer up and carry the rented equipment outside to the slopes. you follow jimin and taehyung to the bunny slope while jin, namjoon and hoseok go toward the snowboard-only trails with jungkook deciding on the competition style ski slope. as you walk out, you look back at yoongi, admiring the concentrated look on his face as he passionately writes down whatever is on his mind, and for the briefest moment, you hope that he’s writing about you.

-

“i’m never going skiing again,” jimin declares, dropping all of his wet clothes in the living room of the rental as soon as he gets inside. “why did i fall down so much? how did i get so wet because of that?”

“well, jimin, snow is just frozen water, and water is wet, right?” namjoon teases. jimin’s response is to throw a soaking scarf at namjoon, gross ski slope water flinging everywhere in its wake.

“ew, jimin!” you yell, dodging the tail end of the scarf as it makes a terrible sound when it collides with namjoon’s chest. 

“he deserved it.”

“yeah well now i’m covered in your gross sweat water too,” you whine. jimin acts like he’s going to throw something else wet and squishy your way, and you shriek before you dodge behind yoongi as protection.

“don’t get me involved in this,” he groans. you mumble an apology, secretly wiping some of the water off on his scarf.

“i’m gonna go change,” you tell him. “so knock before you come in.”

yoongi nods in response, heading toward the kitchen to get out the ingredients for dinner tonight. as per jungkook’s request, you’ll be assembling your own pizzas, which means you’re off the hook for cooking, at least. everything is premade, it just has to be warmed in the oven, and jin has already declared himself the pizza master, so you just get to enjoy.

“wait, y/n!” yoongi semi-shouts, stopping you on the first step of the staircase. “can you take this up with you? you can put it on top of my black bag.”

“which one, you have three,” you playfully dig, taking the bundle from his hands anyway. it’s his jacket from earlier wrapped around something, his journal maybe? and you tuck it under your arm as you continue upstairs.

you drop the bundle on top of yoongi’s things, knowing he’ll grumble about it messing up how neatly he arranged all of his bags and their contents. that’s why you find yourself peeking back at it after you’ve changed. plus the nagging feeling in your brain that maybe, just maybe, there’s something written about you in there has you tip-toeing to the corner of the room before you gingerly pick his jacket up, letting his notebook tumble out. you hold back, neatly folding the jacket and draping it over one bag before you lean down to grab the notebook, which happened to fall face down, pages open. 

it’s not a crime that you glance at the words as you pick it up, and you’re reading the whole page before you can stop yourself. you’re about to start on the next group of words when you hear a knock at the door, and you drop the notebook, feeling caught. you scramble to put it neatly with his jacket, but the words inside are running through your head as you call out to yoongi that he can come in. 

if he knows that you were snooping, he doesn’t show it. he simply thanks you for folding his things, and you nod at him quickly before you duck out of the room and go back to the kitchen, all the while thinking about the lyrics that made your stomach do backflips while at the same time making your heart feel totally content. what you read on that page was pure comfort embodied in a few words, and it came from the comfort yoongi feels when he’s around you. you recognize that feeling, those words resonating because that’s the same way you feel when you’re around him. you smile to yourself, thinking about how to confront yoongi about this. 

except you can’t. because then he’ll know you were looking at his things, his innermost thoughts. you know how personal his lyrics are to him, and you know he’d be upset that you looked without his permission. so you resign yourself to making your sad little pizza, distracting your mind with cheese, cheese and more cheese. hoseok must notice the gloomy look on your face, because there’s suddenly a ball of sunshine at your side. he slides ingredients onto your pizza without you knowing, until you look down and see a smiley face staring back at you. you can’t help but laugh and lean into his warmth, giggling as he makes up some silly voice for the new pizza face he created. 

yoongi enters the kitchen at that moment, seeing how you smile at hoseok like that, laughing so easily at his actions, and suddenly the song he was so eager to write, to compose, to pour his heart into, suddenly he wants to go upstairs and burn the pages. he won’t, because he knows he’s just being jealous, but he distances himself immediately, silently helping jin with slicing some fresh onion or prepping the oven for another pizza. yoongi was ready to show the song to you after dinner, but now...maybe he never will. 

-

once you’ve all eaten an unhealthy amount of food, and consumed an impressive amount of alcohol (”we have to finish it before we leave!!” - jimin), you’re all gathered in the living room to watch a movie, another jungkook choice. it’s some sappy love story, and you find yourself looking over at yoongi each time something touching happens onscreen. jin notices as well, nudging yoongi the next time he sees your eyes drift in their direction. yoongi acknowledges jin, who directs yoongi’s attention to you, and when your eyes meet you can see something has changed. you turn away, looking back up at the tv and shivering despite the warm fire just a few feet away. taehyung, sitting next to you on the floor, offers you a corner of his blanket, and you take it, scooting closer to him as you try to focus on the terrible plot of this movie.

the boring movie, the warmth of tae along with the fire, and the two glasses of yoongi’s fancy whiskey you wanted to try now sitting in your stomach all lull you to sleep at some point. tae shuffling around next to you wakes you up, and in your stupor you look around and can’t find who you’re looking for.

“where’s yoongi?” you mumble with a yawn.

“already in bed,” taehyung explains. “he went up a little while ago.”

“hm, ok,” you half-whisper, voice barely returning after your quick nap. you stand up and stretch, alerting everyone to your movements because you’re right in front of the tv. jungkook whines, and you side step out of the way. “m’goin to sleep too.”

“alright,” taehyung says, pushing the blanket out of your way so you don’t trip. “sleep tight!”

“don’t let the lovebugs bite!” jimin chirps out, making some of the boys giggle. you don’t register it as you walk to your room, just barely awake. 

for the second night in a row you’re surprised to see yoongi on the bed, still awake, but tonight he’s got his laptop and all of his producing equipment is laid out around him. he doesn’t acknowledge you entering the room and you don’t pay him any mind either, kneeling down to rifle through your bags at the foot of the bed. once you find what you’re looking for, you can’t decide if it’s the sleep or the whiskey, but you unabashedly take your sweater off right in front of yoongi. suddenly he’s jumping out of bed, equipment scattering.

“uh, what- why, what, what are you doing?!” he asks, voice an octave higher than usual as he looks anywhere but down at you. you laugh at how jumpy he is, and quietly apologize.

“sorry, i should’ve warned you,” you explain. “too tired to go to the bathroom.”

“tha-that’s fine,” he replies, still not looking at you. “tell me when you’re ready.”

“good,” you say once you’ve pulled on the shirt you slept in last night. “why’d you come up here so early?”

yoongi risks a glance at you, color coming back to his cheeks once he sees that you’re clothed again. he starts meticulously packing up the tech covering the bed, leaning over his laptop and furiously saving what he was working on before he closes it. 

“uh, i just didn’t like that movie,” he lies, not wanting to mention how jealous he was seeing you laughing with hoseok and then sharing a blanket with taehyung. he doesn’t have a right to be jealous, but he is. he wants to tell you how that made him feel, but he doesn’t. 

“ugh, me either,” you groan, rolling up one of the stray wires on the bed before passing it to yoongi. “not my favorite genre.”

yoongi notices that you’ve folded the wire the way he likes, without harming it too much and with the ends tucked in just so. the fact that you remember such a small detail has his heart warming again, and suddenly the gloomy thoughts he had about tonight have washed away. he all but forgets why he was in a bad mood in the first place as he looks at you, crawling under the blankets and he has the urge to stop you, to wake you up again so that he can play you what he was working on. but he can do that later, he will. he sees you glance up at him, patting the bed next to you.

“c’mon, i promise i won’t drool on you tonight,” you assure him, and he laughs before pulling the covers back on his side so he can lay down. he turns the lamp off on his bedside table and then settles in, suddenly missing the warmth of you from last night. 

“good night,” he mumbles, looking over at you on your phone, setting an alarm for tomorrow. the rental ends in the early afternoon, so there can be no sleeping in. 

“night yoongi,” you reply, locking your phone. you keep it on your chest for a moment, contemplating how tired you actually are. before you came in, you could’ve fallen asleep on the floor, but now, laying next to yoongi, you’re reminded of those lyrics and you don’t think your mind can turn off. after a few minutes of silence, you decide it’s probably best to just try to sleep, having your phone on might bother yoongi. you need to charge it anyway, but you groan as you remember you never packed your charger. 

“hm?” yoongi hums at your sound of frustration.

“do you have a phone charger plugged in over there?” you ask quietly. 

“mhm.”

“can i use it?”

“yep.”

“are you almost asleep?” you ask, even quieter now, moving over so you’re a little closer to him than before. 

“trying to be.”

“i’ll plug it in then,” you say, carefully reaching over him to grasp blindly until your fingers reach the cord. you fumble with it for a moment, successfully plugging your phone in eventually, and you start to retreat to your side of the bed. as you pass back over yoongi, you place a quick kiss on his cheek and mumble another good night, not even realizing what you’ve just done. 

there’s no way you can fall asleep now, and neither can he. there’s a beat of silence before he speaks up. 

“y/n.”

“what.”

“look at me.” 

slowly, you turn your head back to him, and his intense gaze has you blushing before he even says anything.

“sorry.”

“don’t apologize.”

“ok. right. sorry,” you quickly reply, voice still barely audible, but with the lack of space between you two it’s not hard for yoongi to hear. 

“y/n,” he says again, this time grabbing your hand beneath the blankets. 

“yeah?”

“i think i might be in love with you.”

“that’s....nice,” you squeak back, and yoongi lets out a loud laugh. your blush deepens at the sound.

“that’s nice?” he laughs. “that’s all you have to say?”

“yoongi?”

“yeah?”

“can i kiss you?” you ask, propping yourself up on an elbow. it’s dark in the room, but you clearly see him nod, and you don’t even remember moving to connect your lips to his. the moment you do, there’s a spark of electricity flowing through you. it’s a simple kiss, lips moving in sync with each other, both knowing what move the other is going to make before you even make it. yoongi pulls himself up so he can cage you underneath his arms, long fingers brushing your cheek and sending more sparks down your spine. he cups your face as he delicately tries deepening the kiss, your lips opening just slightly to let him in. he tastes like mint, and something else, something....citrus-y. even though you don’t want to, you pull away from his lips, his pout chasing you as you rest your head back on your pillows.

“what, what’s wrong?” he asks, fear slowly creeping in.

“when did you have time to eat a tangerine?”

“seriously? that’s the question you have for me right now?” he asks, laughing again but quieter this time. it still makes you smile at the sound.

“hm, i do have one question,” you say. it’s dark in the room but you can see yoongi encouraging you to go on with a lift of his eyebrow. your smile deepens as you speak. “how long have you been in love with me?”

“okay, good night,” he grumbles, turning over. you let out a sound of frustration and prop yourself up on an elbow, holding onto his shoulder with your other hand. 

“this ok?” you ask quietly, slowly melting into his side. he makes a sound of confirmation, and you pull him back towards you slightly. “i still don’t have an answer to my question.”

“when did i fall in love with you?” he asks for confirmation.

“ooh, you fell in love with me, how romantic,” you tease. “i asked how long it’s been, but i’d take either answer.”

“ok, yes, i did fall in love with you,” he begins. “you’re annoying so it took some time.”

“hey.”

“not done.”

“sorry.”

“and how long?” he continues. “mm, when i saw your name on the sign up sheet for the room with the brown piano, that’s when i knew for sure. so i guess a couple months.”

“hm. alright,”  you respond, butterflies suddenly in your stomach and fluttering up to your throat. “that’s.....nice.”

that sends you both into a fit of giggles right as jimin and taehyung are passing outside your door, and jimin pulls him toward the sound. but taehyung accidentally bumps his knee on the door, alerting you and yoongi to their unwanted presence. 

“go to bed!” yoongi shouts, making you jump while scaring the now snickering boys outside your door. yoongi lays an arm over your waist seeing you jerk at the sudden noise, and you feel a little bit of that comfort that he so perfectly put into words with his lyrics. 

“you too!” jimin shouts back, laughing all the way to his room.

“and you called me annoying,” you whisper to yoongi.

“you know they put you in here on purpose,” he tells you.

“huh?”

“they knew i was into you, so they made sure we were sharing a room,” he explains. 

“so you knew about it too?” 

“i-i knew we might share a room, i didn’t know we’d be sharing a bed,” he stumbles out. “once i saw there was one bed i assumed they gave you your own room. i’m...i’m glad i was wrong.”

“well min yoongi, i never expected this,” you tell him.

“pff, seriously?”

“seriously,” you confirm. “guess i was too busy with my own feelings for you to notice that you were into me.”

“really?” he asks with a smile. you nod, but realize he may not see it in the dark.

“yeah,” you whisper. 

“how long?” he whispers back.

“honestly? probably longer than i’d like to admit. you’re really cute, you know.”

“back at ya.”

“not done,” you scold.

“sorry.”

“but i finally accepted it when i...” you trail off, and then you decide it’s best to just tell him. “when i read the lyrics in your journal.”

you can feel him stiffen at your words, but he doesn’t move his arm from its place on your waist. 

“which song?”

“the one from today,” you reply. “wait, which song? there’s more than one?!”

“uh, good night!” he exclaims, trying to turn away again. you grab his arm and stop him though, placing your hand over his.

“min yoongi!”

“hey,” he mumbles.

“i hope i get to read the other ones at some point.”

“you will,” he assures you. there’s a beat of silence before he speaks again. “uh, so, you still haven’t used the l word, and that’s totally fine, i swear, but, did i cross a line? by using it already?”

“nah,” you shrug. “i’m just not good at this, so you’ll have to give me a little time. i’ll say it when i’m sure.”

“alright. take your time,” he says with a nod. it’s quiet again, and you think you’re both finally going to fall asleep when you feel yoongi’s lips on your cheek. “good night, for real. feel free to use me as your teddy bear again.”

“you sure?” you ask with a smile.

“i insist.”

- 

the next morning, you keep it chill, trying not to tip off the guys and let them know their little plan worked. but damn, how sneaky of them! you’ll have to thank them later though. for now, you’re helping them clean the house so you don’t get charged for leaving the rental a total mess. yoongi is in the living room clearing bottles from last night and you’re washing dishes with hoseok. yoongi keeps stealing glances at you, and you stick your tongue out at him whenever he catches your eye. once everything is clean, and the bags are in the car, you’re ready to head back to the city to enjoy the last bit of break. 

you’re the car dj again, next to yoongi in the backseat again, but this time you have a new playlist. epik high’s new album came out this morning, so you queue that up for your intimate little listening party in the car. everyone is in a good mood from the trip, so you’re talking over most of the songs in the beginning, just noting quickly when you like a lyric or a beat. yoongi scribbles things down when the inspiration strikes him, and your mind starts drifting back to your performance midterm. you’re starting to think you may be playing the wrong song, but the question is, what song will you play instead? 

as you get to the end of the album, and the end of your weekend, one song catches your attention. you check your phone, noting the title as you turn the volume up slightly. you listen extra hard to this song, trying to memorize the chord progressions as they come. you start composing the song in your mind, tapping out the melody on your lap as you decide: end of the world will be your performance song. you glance over at yoongi, still focused on his notebook, and you reach out to lightly tap his hand. he looks up at you, hair falling into his eyes, dewy cheeks shining and mouth slightly open, questioning your actions with a quiet “hm?”

“i’m sure now.”

[plaidbooks]

Hi! Could you please do one where Sonny and the reader are undercover together? The reader and Sonny both have feelings for each other, but refuse to admit it. They have to kiss or be intimate during the undercover op and it leads to tension when they return to work. Maybe one of them are casually dating and things get ugly before they get better, but ends with them both confessing their feelings? Thanks!!

Heated Confessions

A/N: Heya anon! This was a lot of fun to write! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! (Also, poor Charles)

Tags: mentions of trafficking, mentions of fuck buddies, the overuse of the work fuck

Words: 2449

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba

Sonny was sitting on an ottoman, drink in hand, watching the party unfold. The camera in his glasses was capturing everything, and Sonny made sure to look at every john’s face long enough to get positive IDs for when the bust was made. You straightened your dress in the kitchen—if the small amount of material covering you could be called that—pulling it up a little so that your boobs weren’t completely falling out, before you made your way through the throng, weaving in and out of the hands that reached for you, men inviting you to sit on their laps or join them in a back room. But you continued on your way to Sonny; you had some information that you had to pass onto him.

You stood in front of him, a seductive smile on your face as he glanced up your body until he made it to your face. “This seat taken?” you purred. You didn’t wait for him to answer, straddling his legs easily, sinking down into his lap and wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. Your short dress hitched up, and you were sure everyone behind you could see your ass. Sonny played his part well, one hand cupping your ass and the other trailing up your back, pulling you closer to him. You ignored your fluttering heart—not only was Sonny your partner, but you had a huge crush on him, and it was hard to not be turned on by your own actions. Running your lips over his jaw, you moved your mouth to his ear, speaking hopefully loud enough that the mic under his collar could hear you, too.

“There’s a locked door in back, two armed guards standing on either side. Both have automatics; I’m sure Clemson is in there,” you informed him.

Sonny’s mouth moved to your neck, and a small whimper left your mouth before you could stop it. From the outside, he was just another john feeling up an escort. “Any civilians around?”

“No; the guards are turning them away. The closest entrance is the back door, from the garden.” You rolled your hips against Sonny’s and his breathing hitched.

“Take me, baby,” Sonny growled, and you got off his lap, taking his hand and leading him towards the back of the house. Your heart was thundering through you, and you tried to keep a seductive look on your face, like it was natural for you to be leading a man somewhere more private. Like if you weren’t about to bust this trafficking ring. Like if you were about to fuck your attractive partner.

You stopped in the hallway outside the room leading to the guarded door. Taking a deep breath, you made eye contact with Sonny, giving him a small smile. “Make it look good,” you said sternly. Sonny’s cheeks were pink, but he nodded. You both shifted uncomfortably, and then Sonny was kissing you roughly, his mouth first on your lips, then sliding off to the side, kissing the side of your mouth. He walked you backwards into the room, both of your hands all over each other.

“Hey! Get out of here!” one of the men shouted. Arms still wrapped around your body, Sonny looked up at the guards, panting slightly, his glasses slightly askew. Your mind was a whirlwind, trying to remember what was going on, but all you could think of was Sonny’s body pushed up against yours, the feeling of his mouth all over you still fresh.

“Sorry lads, is this room not available?” Sonny asked, smirking. He moved his eyes to you, indicating to the men what he wanted.

“No; try a room upstairs,” the man growled at the two of you. He gripped his gun tighter, and Sonny straightened.

“Yeah, okay, calm down, man. Let’s go honey,” he cooed at you, taking your hand and pulling you back out of the room. Once alone in the hallway, Sonny said, “you’re right; Clemson is definitely in there…you guys see that?” he added into his mic.

“Among other things,” Fin’s voice came over the earpiece and Sonny’s cheeks reddened. He suddenly found a spot on the floor very interesting. “You and [Y/N] stay clear; ESU’s getting into position.”

“Yeah, okay. Here, Sonny,” you said, moving up to him. You untucked half his shirt, unstraightening his tie, and mussing up his hair. You reached up to your own mouth, smearing your lipstick more than his mouth already had. You ruffled your hair slightly, then turned to leave the hallway, Sonny following you, a satisfied smile on his lips.

Soon after you both rejoined the party, doors slammed open, ESU storming the house. You and Sonny surrendered, not wanting to have your covers blown in case you needed to use them again. Olivia and Fin came in, arresting you both, shoving you into their squad car, and driving you to the precinct. The ride back was awkward, and you couldn’t look at Olivia or Fin, let alone Sonny. And with your hands cuffed behind your back, you couldn’t readjust your dress as it climbed higher and higher up your thigh.

All the other partygoers were mercifully being sent to a different precinct, so you and Sonny were allowed to go change once back in the safety of SVU. The first thing you did was go to the bathroom and scrub the makeup off your face, splashing cold water in your face and trying, trying to forget the feeling of Sonny all over you. You’d been attracted to him since you met him—hell, he’d appeared in some of your late-night fantasies more than a handful of times. But he was your partner; it couldn’t happen. And when your battery-operated boyfriend could no longer keep the ache away, you met a guy at a bar. What you and Charles had was casual; he wasn’t your boyfriend, and you weren’t exclusive...at least, he wasn’t, which was fine. You were more just fuck buddies. But even that was starting to get boring, and Sonny started entering your mind more and more. You knew tonight wouldn’t help with that; quite the opposite, in fact.

Coming out of the locker room in NYPD sweats and tshirt, you ran your fingers through your hair as you made your way to Olivia’s office. Sonny was already there, wearing the same clothes from the bust but definitely freshened up. You both gave your statements, then headed to your desks to collect your things so that you could go home for the night, maybe take care of that dull ache that had appeared between your thighs since the moment you had straddled Sonny’s lap.

“So, uh, how’s Charles?” Sonny asked, clipping his badge back onto his waistband. You whipped your head to look at him, but he refused to make eye contact, choosing to stare at his desk instead.

You had told him about Charles only once before; honestly, you were shocked he even remembered the man. “Uh, he’s fine. Taking me out to sushi tomorrow,” you replied awkwardly. As much as you and Charles weren’t dating, he liked to take you out every now and again.

“That sounds…nice.” He shifted on his feet. “So, you two getting more serious?”

“Does that bother you, Carisi?” you asked impatiently. You didn’t know why he cared, nor why you were getting so defensive about some guy you were fucking every week or so.

Sonny raised his hands in defense. “Hey, it was just a question. Sorry if you don’t wanna talk about your fuck buddy.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you judging me? I’m a fucking adult, Dom. Sorry your repressed Catholic self doesn’t allow you to get some. But I don’t need your divine guidance in my life.” You finished grabbing your things, storming towards the exit.

“Excuse me?” Sonny asked in disbelief. He followed you to the elevator, stepping into the small space with you, standing right in your face. “Look, we’re partners, [Y/N]. I worry about you, okay? Sleeping around with some guy isn’t the safest—”

You scoffed. “I do not need a lecture from you, choir boy. I’m a big girl; I can take care of myself. And who I’m fucking is none of your concern!”

The elevator dinged and you stepped out, Sonny right on your heels. “[Y/N], listen to me, dammit,” he said. Even with as fast you were walking to your car, his long legs kept up with you easily. He leaned on your door, not allowing you to open it.

“Fuck off, Dom. I’m done talking about this. Maybe I’ll call Charles, have him come over and—”

“Would you shut up for two seconds?” Sonny yelled, his voice echoing in the parking garage. His outburst surprised you and you froze, hand still on the handle to your car. He ran his free hand through his hair, sighing deeply before he looked into your eyes. “Look, I don’t want you with Charles because…I like you, okay? And after that UC….” He trailed off, his eyes drifting down.

You stood there dumbfounded. You remembered his mouth on your lips, your neck, his hands all over you. But then you remembered his words at his desk, and with the adrenaline still rushing through you, you yelled, “really? You’re gonna pull that shit right now, Dom?” You shook your head. “Move out of my way.”

Sonny nodded, more to himself than to you, before he withdrew his hand from your door. You climbed in behind the wheel, slamming the door behind you and speeding out of the parking lot before he had a chance to see the tears on your face.

 *************************

You had the next day off work, which you were eternally grateful for. You texted Charles, telling him that you couldn’t make it to sushi, that you were busy all day. And then you sat on your couch, drinking wine and crying. Sonny had finally, finally admitted his feelings for you, and you screamed at him. What the fuck was wrong with you? Sometimes, you thought that you were a self-sabotager; always fucking up when you had the chance of getting what you wanted, of being happy. And how the fuck were you going to look Sonny in the eye when you saw him again?

You had moved onto your second bottle of wine when you heard a soft knock on your door. Ignoring it, you poured a glass full, taking a sip; you didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. Besides, it was probably your annoying neighbor coming to complain about his broken AC, or his dishwasher making a weird noise, or some other thing going wrong in his apartment that you really didn’t care about.

But the knocking just grew louder until you heard Sonny’s voice call out, “[Y/N] open up! I know you’re in there, dammit! We need to talk!”

Placing your glass on the kitchen counter, you stormed over to your front door, the anger that flooded you sobering you up, and you unlocked it, throwing it open. “Can you not alert the whole building to my work issues, please?” you hissed, grabbing his arm and dragging him into your apartment.

“Sorry, but I didn’t think you were gonna answer,” Sonny said sheepishly. You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you, okay? That’s not why I’m here. But we need to work through this, work through…us.”

“Us?” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “What us? Until yesterday, I didn’t think there was an us! Why the hell do you think I went and found someone like Charles?”

“…what?” Sonny asked, his eyes boring into yours, his brow furrowed.

Maybe it was the alcohol running through you, muddling your thoughts. Or maybe it was that once that confession was out in the open, you couldn’t stop yourself. Self-sabotager indeed. “I’ve been in love with you for months, Sonny! So much so that it hurt! But I knew I couldn’t have you, so I found someone else to fuck because I couldn’t fuck you! And now you finally tell me you like me? Now of all times?” You were panting by the time you had finished yelling at him.

Sonny looked crestfallen, hurt in his eyes. “I-I’m sorry—”

“—I don’t want to hear it, Dom, I really don’t—”

“—but why are you mad at me?” he finished as if you didn’t interrupt him. You glared at him, but found you had nothing to say. Why were you mad at him? Sonny cleared his throat. “You and I…we’re supposed to be partners. And I said it yesterday, but I’ll say it again; I like you, maybe even love you, I can’t tell yet, not really. But with your reaction, maybe I should ask Liv to reassign me to Rollins or Fin—”

“Wait,” you said, cutting him off. After your outburst, your anger had left you, leaving you feeling empty, exposed…vulnerable. And when Sonny said the word ‘love,’ it struck a chord deep within you. He watched your face expectantly, probably waiting for you to yell at him more, and you inwardly winced. “I’m sorry, Sonny. I’ve been…a royal bitch to you, and for no good reason. I…I don’t want you to be reassigned; I love being your partner, working with you. Being close to you. If nothing happens between us, I at least don’t want to lose you.”

Sonny gave you a hard look before breaking out into a grin. “We both confess our feelings to each other, and we’re still preparing for nothing to happen, nothing to change, huh?”

It was your turn to smile sheepishly at him, rubbing the back of your neck. “I guess…unless…you want something to happen?”

“What about Charles?”

You rolled your eyes. “Who gives a fuck about Charles?”

Sonny chuckled. He stepped up to you, ducking his head but stopping halfway, letting you stand on your tip toes, closing the distance between you. Sonny’s lips were soft against yours, much different than the undercover make-out session you did yesterday. This was soft, slow, passionate, and you could feel the love and affection Sonny felt for you as an arm wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you closer.

He finally broke the kiss, leaning back to smile down at you. “You know, if we disclose to Liv, she’ll probably still reassign us,” he muttered softly, kissing your nose.

You nodded. “I’d be okay with that, as long as I still get you outside of work.”

“Yeah, doll, you get me,” Sonny said, bringing you in for another kiss.

[a-dorin]

under the same stars

pairing: august moor x darth maul 

word count: 3.043k

warnings: some cursing, angst, canon typical violence (lightsabers, confrontations), the start of some yearning, a naive jedi, a slight age gap

a/n: this is a rewrite of my old oc series, under the same stars! i hope you guys like this version more, as i will be deleting the old one. let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! i love these together a little too much already. 

“again,” a voice commanded, “i want to see that combat technique once more. obi-wan, i advise you to keep your right arm tucked in, more towards your body. if it juts out any more, she would be able to notice that, and use that to her advantage.”

“do we really have to do this one more time?” a padawan tucked his braid behind his ear, scorn laced in his tone, “she is not playing fair, master. she’s using her abilities.”

“there’s no playing fair in battle, obi-wan,” a brunette piped up, clipping her saber to her belt, “are you just jealous that someone seven years your junior is going to be made a jedi knight in just a few short months?”

the senior padawan snorted, rolling his eyes, “anything else you wish to rub in my face? your tactics aren’t working on me this time, august.”

a sly smirk crept across the brunette’s features as she folded her arms across her chest, “yeah, well, i still would like to share a few bits here and there. oh, also how you just got your ass handed to you back there--”

“that is enough.”

eyes darted to the jedi master as he glowered over them, shaking his head, “i am aware that it may be difficult for the two of you to train together, especially with the age difference. however, i expect the two of you to be nothing but civil and respectful to one another. you both are gifted in your own ways. obi-wan, you are an excellent fighter, with clean and precise movement. august, you are more gifted with the ways of the force. yet, if you were to be paired for a mission, your petty bickering would only hold you back. nothing would be accomplished.”

“my apologies master,” the brunette mumbled, shifting uneasily, “it won’t happen again.”

qui-gon exhaled, bringing a hand to his temple, “you say that every instance but clearly the issue remains unresolved. if the two of you are to become jedi knights, you must embrace all aspects of the code, along with the ways of the force.”

“yes master,” obi-wan hung his head low, “i have failed you.”

“there is no such thing as failure,” the jedi’s voice softened, “you will learn how to handle your emotions in time, obi-wan. the path to become a jedi is not one that is easy, nor accomplished in a matter of years. it is a lifetime journey.”

“are we dismissed now?” 

qui-gon’s head swiveled over to august, his eyes narrowing, “august, did i say that you were dismissed?”

“master windu and master buir requested my presence for tea,” for a moment, august’s demeanor cracked under her master’s harsh inquiry, “i told them that i would go after training.”

“after the spat you just had with obi-wan, i do not believe you deserve to be let off the hook.”

“do i get to go meet with seraphine for tea?” obi-wan cleared his throat, fiddling with the sleeves of his robes.

“absolutely not,” qui-gon’s response was immediate, “i believe i have the perfect assignment for the two of you.”

obi-wan’s lips parted, his eyes widening, “master, please, if anything, we can resolve our issues at a later time--”

“i want you to patrol the streets of coruscant tonight,” qui-gon folded his arms across his chest, as if he was challenging his padawans to interject, “you will work together. i will remain here at the temple, but i have complete faith in both of you. if you report back to me with a single singed robe, or a hair out of place from scrapping, i will extend the punishment. do you understand?”

“we’re not officers,” august sneered, “we’re--”

“jedi,” qui-gon finished, “keepers of peace.”

“no tea time for august tonight,” obi-wan let out a chuckle. 

“and no tea with your girlfriend, either,” august spat, a whine rising in her throat, “master, can we please have separate punishments? i’m already tired of obi-wan’s droning.”

“pouting will get you nowhere,” qui-gon’s lips curled in a grin, his gaze twinkling with amusement, “i advise the two of you leave the temple at once. night is beginning to fall. when night comes, that is when the scorn of the universe emerges from the shadows.”

“fine,” august huffed, straightening her sleeve, “come on, obi-wan, let’s get this over with.”

“don’t you fret,” obi-wan countered, throwing on an earthy-toned cloak, “i’m counting down the hours until sunrise.”

as the two parted from the temple, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow over coruscant. the moon was high in the sky, waxing towards a full moon. soon, the stars would be out, dancing across the night. soon, the shades of lilac, burgundy, cyan, and tangerine would be replaced by a rich navy blue. 

silence fell over the pair of padawans as they descended from the stairs, the only sound the echo of their footsteps. as much as august ached to fly a small shuttle around for the night, qui-gon felt it was best that they remain on foot, where they could not be easily recognized in a crowd. 

which, a night with obi-wan was the last night august wanted. especially on a gorgeous summer night like this. 

stars glittered above, beginning to dot the sky, a sense of bliss rippling through august as she made the trek towards the sprawling array of streets, skyscrapers, and speeders. yet, that bliss was quickly replaced with dread as the lights of the city began to shine, shrouding the skyline. 

“are you all right? you’re still wearing that frown from earlier,” obi-wan inquired, his tone apprehensive. 

august sucked in a breath, her brows furrowing, “why do you care, obi-wan? you want nothing more than to spite me. i don’t ever recall a time where you actually showed me an ounce of respect for me or my emotions.” 

“i am aware,” the padawan exhaled, “although you are one to wear your emotions on your sleeve, i can sense a bit of turmoil within you. are you that upset about spending a few hours with your fellow trainee?”

“i would rather have a cup of tea with a sith than spend the night with you.”

the bustle of life began to fill obi-wan’s ears, the whoosh of ships, the hum of lights, as well as the dialects of a variety of species. he choked back a swift rebuttal, clamping his lips shut. 

yet, it was only moments later when her voice flooded his ears once more, so soft and quiet. 

“i’m sorry.”

“sorry?” obi-wan echoed, “for what?”

“you know exactly what i’m apologizing for,” her voice hardened, “don’t be coy with me, kenobi.”

an amused smirk formed on the padawan’s lips as he glanced at august momentarily. her gaze  was focused on the surrounding scenery, as they were beginning to make their way towards a marketplace. her brow was furrowed, plush lips drawn together, as if she was deep in thought. yet, the warm glow of lights softened her features. 

underneath the hood of her cloak, her brunette hair was woven into an intricate half-down, half-up style, earrings dangling from her ears. free strands of hair swayed along with the breeze, her blue eyes glimmering with the reflection of coruscant. obi-wan swallowed thickly, careful not to stare a second longer. her eyes shifted, falling on the padawan. 

“you’ve been surprisingly quiet tonight. is there something on your mind?”

“no,” obi-wan shook his head quickly, “i’m just taking it all in. this is one of my first solo missions, you know.” 

“first time qui-gon’s letting you off a leash, huh?” august smirked, shooting obi-wan a wink.

obi-wan scoffed, waving a hand to deflect her statement, “i have undergone several successful solo missions, just so you know.”

a chuckle bubbled up in august’s throat, “oh, is that so? are you sure they were successful?”

“yes,” he retaliated, “how many solo missions have you been on, august moor?”

“a few,” she shrugged, “however, i did not need qui-gon’s permission. i was assigned to them by the council.”

“oh,” obi-wan mused, “august followed the councils’ wishes for once in her life.” 

“at least i’m not a pushover like you, always groveling at the council’s feet,” august snorted, rolling her eyes, “do you ever wonder if the jedi are always the divine beings they claim they are?”

“you’re beginning to worry me,” obi-wan retorted, “you’re talking like a sith, august.”

“i am just speaking what’s on my mind,” she exhaled, her hand gravitating towards the hilt of her saber, “you don’t ever think about what would happen if you didn’t seek the route of a jedi? if you were just a normal, ordinary being on your home planet? don’t those thoughts keep you up late at night? do you ever just ponder? do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you were gifted with the force but did not follow any sort of code?”

“it’s not like we were given a choice in the matter, august,” the senior padawan observed, “we were taken to the temple as younglings. however, you must recall that jedi who are one with the force do not chose whether or not we possess these capabilities. we are born with them, as we are chosen by the force to bring balance to the universe.”

august groaned, “spare me the bullshit, obi-wan. you sound more and more like qui-gon every day.”

“is that such a bad thing?” obi-wan arched a brow. 

“i’m just so tired of all of this mumbo-jumbo bullshit about the jedi and all of the regulations we have to follow,” she threw her arms up in the air, “it’s all so pointless and for what? to hold some title because we’re gifted with capabilities that others do not have?”

obi-wan paused, his eyes noticing a cloaked figure slinking through the shadows, “august, wait. do you see that fellow over there?”

august stopped in her tracks, a shudder coursing through her body, “o-obi-wan, it got all cold all of the sudden.”

his jaw clenched, the aura of the air shifting around them. tension crackled, the hairs on his neck prickling his skin, “don’t worry, i feel it too. would you like me to follow him, or would you like to take the lead on this one?”

“you’re the senior padawan here,” august muttered, fingers curling around her saber, “but, i guess i’ll take charge. i’ll comm you in case i run into any trouble.”

“be careful,” obi-wan’s hand grazed her wrist, “please, come back in one piece.”

“i will,” august nodded, “i promise you that, obi-wan.”

it was almost as if her senses blurred the moment she went in pursuit. blood roared in her ears as her heart pounded, the noise swirling in her ears almost static. her sense of smell was flooded with the burning stench of pollution, garbage, and murky water. 

her thoughts were clouded, skull throbbing as she inched closer and closer, her knuckles nearly white as she gripped the hilt, “hey! stop!”

abruptly, the figure turned into an alleyway. he was swathed in darkness, the embodiment of a living shadow. under the veil of his hood, august could feel his gaze piercing through her, picking her apart, tearing her open. 

dangerously intelligent, unforgiving, cold eyes. 

pools of amber, flowing effortlessly into a ring of scarlet irises, luminescent in the night. 

leather gloves wrapped around the hem of the hood, pulling it down to reveal the identity of the strange creature. someone who august felt compelled to follow, drawn in by the pull of the force. 

he was a zabrak, ivory horns protruding from his skull. his skin was a crimson hue, black tattoos interwoven across his features. with sharp cheekbones, along with a strong nose, he was given a menacing aura. the gleam of silver caught august’s eye, instinctively drawing her saber, igniting it. 

in the distance, thunder rolled, the atmosphere thickening. a droplet of rain sizzled as it met with the blade of her saber, the violet hue illuminating her face. clenching her jaw, she gritted her teeth, spitting out the inquiry once more. 

“i thought i told you to stop. why didn’t you?”  

the zabrak’s lips curled into a sinister grin, flashing his incisors as he drew his own saber, the blade an eerie scarlet color, “i cannot believe it. a jedi has fallen directly into my hands. what should i do with you?”

“i am no jedi,” august growled, adrenaline coursing through her veins. 

the sincerity in her statement sparked interest within the zabrak. cocking his head, his eyes narrowed into slits, “you’re not with the jedi, yet you’re here on coruscant? what are you then? are you a rogue? a jedi plaything?”

“i am only training to become one,” the girl averted the zabrak’s gaze, keeping her saber drawn, “who are you? you have ten seconds to tell me your name and business here.” 

“like i would be terrified of you,” the zabrak’s voice was hot with scorn, “i am maul and i have no business here other than a meeting.” 

august inhaled sharply, “where are you from? i want to see your credentials. the senate was not meeting tonight, so there’s no real reason you should be here.”

“who are you?” the zabrak did not move a single muscle, maintaining his demeanor, “i believe it’s only fair you give me your name, little one.”

“my name is august moor,” the girl shifted uneasily, nearly panting. 

maul closed his eyes, reaching out to august. as the wind rolled through the streets, the rain nearly washing away her scent as it fell in heavy sheets. however, he could pick out the faint scent of rose, the sweetness of blossoms. 

his breath hitched in his throat, as her emotions consumed him entirely. he could sense her fear, her anxiety, “you’re anxious. why are you anxious?”

“because i don’t know who you are and you’re picking me apart. you’re a force user, aren’t you?” august retaliated, her tone indignant. 

maul opened his eyes, noticing august’s features for the first time. her skin was pale, with undertones of pink, a blush tinging her cheeks. droplets fell from her jawline, dripping onto her robes.

her eyes were a shade of gray, hints of blue swimming within their depths. they were innocent and naive, eyes that were not quite haunted by the horrors of a lifetime. her brunette hair was down, with a braid woven around her head. strands of hair poked up, more than likely from the summer storm.  

tit was without a doubt that she was beautiful, even if maul didn’t know a single thing about her. through the black cloak, she was donned in a grey tunic, royal blue fabric wrapped around her chest. 

“don’t be scared,” maul murmured, the blades of his saber retracting as he stuck out a hand, “i am not going to kill you, little one. that would be unnecessary. my business here is not to harm you or bring you any harm.” 

august clipped her hilt back to her belt, letting out a shaky breath, “i-i don’t know if i should trust you.”

a shiver ran down the zabrak’s spine as he reached out, “you’re going to catch a cold, little one. i advise you head back to your temple, where it’s warm and dry.”

“who are you to tell what i can and cannot do?” 

maul’s brow furrowed, “you are right, but this storm is not going to end for a while.”

in her cloak, a comm beeped, signaling that obi-wan was attempting to contact her. august flinched, “i-i should go.”

“it would be wise,” the zabrak hummed, throwing his hood up once more. he took a step forward, grasping august’s chin with his glove. drops of water reflected on her lips as the pad of his thumb brushed them away. 

“next time, stay out of the rain, little one.”

within seconds, august was alone in the alleyway, the ghost of his touch consuming her whole. 

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

august shot up, her heart thudding in her chest as she glanced wildly around her quarters, pulling the blanket to her chest, feeling as if the entire incident was just a dream. a wild, vivid, intense dream. rising to her feet, she took a hesitant step towards the viewport, her knees wobbling. the moon was high in the sky, signaling that a few hours had past. the storm broke, white, fluffy clouds sailing through the sky. 

meanwhile, a zabrak rose to his feet, a dull throbbing in his skull. his muscles ached, sore from hours of combat training. he let out a few, ragged breaths, attempting to clear his cloudy mind. the encounter with the padawan must have been a nightmare, or rather, an interesting daydream. whatever it was, his master, darth sidious could never hear about this. he could never find the truth.

yet, when darth maul strolled down the corridor of his ship, a feeling of loneliness unraveled. he couldn’t help but feel an engrained feeling of sadness, laced with regret. 

glancing out the viewport, maul gazed at the horizon stretched before him. an endless array of stars glittered, shining bright. 

huffing, august shivered as a draft entered the space, the chill seeping through her clothing. yet, she couldn’t help but give the sky above her one last look, taking in the way the stars twinkled. 

two lost souls stared at the stars, wondering if the other knew. 

august slipped underneath her sheets, her eyelids heavy. she dozed off, dreaming of her encounter from earlier. the meeting was a pure coincidence. surely there was no driving force behind it. it was all a simple daydream or fever dream. 

darth maul felt exhaustion rack his body, almost collapsing to the floor. he was tired, as he practiced combat technique for hours after arriving back to his ship. yet, this was a new wave of sleep overcoming him. the zabrak crawled to his bed, dreaming about his interaction with the padawan. 

more than anything, he wanted to permanently ingrain the image of her in his memories, her beauty captivating. he wanted to remember the way her eyes glimmered in the rain, how she admired him momentarily. 

a sith and jedi’s paths intertwined, under the same stars.

[bobbys-naughty-corner]

Mirio x reader lemon

You laid on your bed in your dorm, squeezing onto the sheets. Your heat had taken over you and at this point you could only masturbate to take care of it. You had dropped you medicine and now had no more. You’ve been on it for years, so now your heat was no longer suppressed it hit you different. You were lucky it started in the middle of the night. Before you did anything you locked your door, window and even checked your closet to be extra cautious. Your fingers sliding in and out of you as your other hand played with your clit. You had bunched your shirt up and held it up with your teeth, exposing your breast while you gagged yourself. “My oh my. You look really desperate sunshine.” Your eyes popped open at the voice. You looked up and saw your upper class man, Mirio, staring at you through your ceiling. “Mirio,” you whined out. Mirio had his famous smile on his face as the rest of his body came down through his floor but your ceiling. “Do you want help sunshine?” He towered over your body, standing on your bed, giving you a clear view of his body. He only wore black briefs, which barely held back his huge bludge. Your face flushed, your fingers still fingering and rubbing yourself. “I’ll take that as a yes. In that case what type of hero would I be if I left my woman in such agony when I can easily help her.” Mirio was waiting for this day, he respected your body and decision to take things slow but ever since he met you he couldn’t even get himself off anymore. You would cloud his mind and he would wonder how you felt under him, his hands no longer doing it for him. He needed you and now you needed him. Mirio knelt down and moved your hands. You were a bit against him removing your pleasure but still let him. “You know I can smell you upstairs? I actually have been able to smell your arousal all day but I’m guessing it didn’t hit you until now. Where did your medicine go baby?” He asked gently swiping a hand down your slit. “Floor~” You said through your shirt. “That’s no good.” Mirio frowned, but he was actually smiling on the inside. “Well it’s a good thing I’m here. A good thing you have me because I’ll take extra good care of you.” Mirio slowly pulled the shirt out of your mouth and leaned in to kiss you. Every time you two kissed outside the bedroom Mirio made sure to make it public. He loved to show off in front of his peers. Being a strong man and having a strong girlfriend as well, people started called you two the power couple of the school. It was nice, but this time when he kissed you it was so needy. His body weight over powering yours, his hands groping your chest and his mouth already dominating yours. Mirio’s hips pressing against your legs more causing your legs to move back, giving him room to grind against you better. You held onto his biceps and tried to control your breathing. One of his hands left your breast and slid down to his briefs. He pushed them down enough to expose his member. Mirio pulled his head away from yours, “look, do you think you can handle this?” He asked, your eyes wandered down and your pupils expanded. He was huge, not just big but also thick. Just looking at it had you leak more. You sat up and he moved back giving you space. You moved your body and pushed him, gently, onto his back. Your eyes still locked onto his penis. You arched your back and grabbed the base of his cock. Mirio pushed himself up on his elbows and stared at your raised ass. Yes, he is a ass man. He can’t help but stare at your ass anytime it’s visible to his eyes.

You couldn’t believe how much he was packing. You licked the tip and the back side of his length. It was glorious, a slight curve upward and veins protruding through his skin. Cleanly shaved, or waxed, you don’t know and don’t care. You hovered your mouth over the tip and let saliva fall from your lips. Using the same hand that gripped the base, you rubbed the spit all around. Your mouth slowly lowered onto the tip, sucking on it. You used you hand to pump up and down as you teased the tip with your tongue. Swirling around it and then sucking. “Damn babe. Who taught you that?” Mirio moaned. He put one hand on your head and gently tried to coax you into putting more in your mouth. You obliged and slid your mouth down as mouth as you could. You looked up at him looking for a reaction. “Mmm damn. Those eyes, that mouth and that lovely arch. Are you a succubus?” He joked, you just moaned around his length. Your nose was invaded by a smell that you smelt on some occasions when you were with him, but this time it was stronger. Mirio bucked his hips and you started to bob your head, using your hands to stroke the rest of him. Mirio reaches a hand over you and slapped your ass. “Mmph!” You nearly gagged. “Yeah that sounds nice.” Mirio grabbed your arm and pushed you off of him, dragging you off the bed. He set you on the floor, kneeling at his feet. “Open baby.” You opened your mouth widely and he shoved his dick in. Gripping the sides of your head to keep you from moving back. He hit the back of your throat and you gagged. “Yeah sunshine. That sound hot.” He gripped your hair tighter as he fucked your face. You pressed your hands on his thighs but he didn’t let up. After a minute or two he pressed your head into his body, his cum shooting down your throat. You felt your throat expand as he shoved himself completely in your mouth. “Oh fuck babe!” He pulled out and you coughed, gasping for air. Mirio instantly bent over, kissing all over your face. “You are amazing!” He said trailing his kissing to your neck. His body getting lower and lower until he got to you pussy. Mirio spread your lips and blew on your wet clit, the air made your hips buck. His tongue came out and licked it, his flat tongue licked from your hole to your clit like it was a icee. “Mirio~”, his tongue felt amazing. You bit a finger so you wouldn’t be so loud but you let out a sudden moan when he stuck a finger in you. His fingers were thick and big it felt like two of your own. “Ahh.” You moaned from behind your hand. His finger rubbed at your inner walls and thrusted into your heat really fast. “Please senpai, more.” You begged. Mirio moves his face and used his thumb to rub your clit while also sticking another finger in you. “Senpai huh? I like that. Say it again.” He face got closer to yours. “Senpai~” you moaned for him again. His lips attacked yours in a kiss, his fingers pumping into you and making your hips shake. Mirio loved the new nick name. “S-Senpai I- Nnngh!” you squeezed your legs together on his hand and came. Mirio still fingered you and rubbed your clit, dragging your orgasm. You pushed his hand away and tried to cover you pussy the best you can. “My God you look amazing.” He stroked your thighs trying to comfort you. His gently touch made you shiver. “Are you good? Was that enough?” He asked. You got up on your knees and crawled to the edge of the bed. Mirio helped you up onto the mattress, making sure to be very gently with you. He kissed your forehead and stroked your hair. “More, please, I want to feel you in me.” Mirio’s eyes widened at your words. He quickly ripped your shirt off and he was already out of his briefs. “This is gonna hurt, you probably know that. But hold onto me, do whatever you need to to bare with the pain.” Mirio leaned over you and buried himself in your neck. You had clung onto his back feeling him at your entrance. “Are you ready?” He asked. “I’m a big girl I can handle a little pain.” You said confidently but you soon regretted your words as he began to push in. You clawed at his back and he groaned.

His arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he had to calm everything in him to be slow and gentle with you. You whined and bit his shoulder. It hurt like hell, you were being impaled. “Fuck (y/n)!” He continued pushing in but soon he couldn’t go any further. “You did so well sunshine. Your body and face look so amazing.” He began kissing the little tears you let out being very cautious of his movements as he wanted you to adjust to him. “Tell me when you’re ready.” He told you, listening to your whimpers and whines. In a minute you were basically purring under him, you moved your hip a little and lightly moaned. “Move please.” You begged in his ear. Mirio moves his dormant head and looked up at you wanted to see your face as he fucked you. He slowly pulled out and pushed back in with a slowly pace. You whined but also moaned. Mirio sat up and gripped your hips, your hands sliding from his back to hold onto his arms. He thrusted in one more time, faster than the last, your breast bounced and he gave a devilish smile. His hands gripped you tighter as he kept a steady sped and a great pace. “Mirio you feel so good. Please more!” Your back arched at his thrust. You head flew back and it give him access to your neck to which he didn’t think twice about covering in hickeys. But there was one spot that had you seeing stars. He was kissing and sucking all over your neck as he fucked you. His dick pounding into you very nicely, rubbing all the perfect spots. Mirio kisses below the back of your ear and then bit down on that area. His pace then slowed to a stop. A scent filled his nose, it was raw and sweetly scented. It made his pupil constrict. He started his pace again, not letting go of the new spot he found, his hips smacking into yours roughly. You whimpered at the pace, raking his back with your nails and screaming his name. “Mirio! Mirio! Mirio! I’m gonna cum!” He sped up after hearing those words. His moans only grunts and gurgles as he but your neck harder. He was animalistic. The bed hit the wall vigorously, you were definitely gonna get noise complaints. Your legs shook as you felt your orgasm take over. Your pussy clamping his dick like a clothing clip. Your body clinging to his. Mirio slid his hand under the crease of your knees and lifted you up. He was on his knees lifting your body up and down his length, fucking you through your orgasm. His voice was deep, rough and loud. “Come again sunshine. Scream my name.” His hands connected behind your back as he fucked you faster. You were weightless in his arms. Your tongue hanging out your mouth as you chanted his name over and over, your neck hanging back like a PEZ dispenser. “Yeah you like that?” He teased in your ear. “Mhm” you responded. A hard palm smacked your ass. “What about that?” He asked again. “Yes!” You yelled. Mirio felt your body shaking and put you back on the bed. He was close and your orgasm was gonna bring him to the ecstasy he dreamed of for months. Mirio put both your legs on one shoulder and gripped your thighs pounding you through closed legs making you tighter and allowing him to go deeper. “I- I can’t!” You whined, you wanted to hold in your orgasm until he came but the new position made it impossible. You gripped the sheets tightly and closed your eyes. “I’m close too.” He panted out. He then began to go rougher and faster. It was too much, how was he making you cum so fast? You thought. He was a beast. Your back arched and he held still inside you. You felt hot liquid hit your breast and face. You both panted, you looked down and he had used his permeation quirk to avoid cumming inside of you. His tip sticking out through your uterus. Mirio then pulled out and plopped down beside you. His whole body covered in sweat, so was yours. Chest heaving as he got up. He grabbed your towel from the corner of the room and came back to wipe you off.

[calmlftv]

burlesque!sos - chapter 4

description: after your accident on stage, you’re condemned to bed rest, all of your different nurses rushing to your aid as you craved the one thing you wanted: physical affection.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: one sex scene w/o feelings 

taglist: @spicycal​ @castaway-cashton​ @irwinkitten​ @n-ctarinenga​ @boxofteenageideas​

chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3

****

“Sprained?!” 

You sighed and nodded, Calum’s worried face taking up your phone screen as you flipped the camera around. Your ankle was wrapped in a tan bandage, two metal clips holding it in place as it was propped up on some pillows. 

The woman - Kaykay, you learned later - carefully felt around the area and diagnosed the sprain, a groan emitting from you while she talked about your limitations. Sierra had joined your group, her arms crossed and a worried expression on her face as she looked at you. Once you were wrapped up Ashton escorted Kaykay out, Sierra and Michael helping you stand to your one working foot. Michael’s arm slipped around your waist as he lifted your arm around his neck, the man holding you close as he helped you hobble back to your room. He paused and grabbed your bag, throwing it over his shoulder before continuing on.

Once inside your room he helped you to your bed, laying you down gently and making you comfortable before he sat beside you. 

“I’m sorry about Crystal,” he said, sadness in his eyes. “I really don’t know what got into her. I’ll talk to her later, make sure she knows it wasn’t okay.” 

“Michael you don’t have to-” 

“Sh, Ro,” he said kindly, carefully resting a hand on the other side of your body and leaning over you. “I’m gonna talk to her. Though I’m not sure what I could say that Sisi probably hasn’t already said.” 

You sighed, your head falling back against the pillows. Your eyes fluttered shut, your body aching from the fall. 

“Tired?” Michael asked softly. You answered with a quiet nod. “I’ll let you get some rest, then. But you better text me if you need help.” 

You opened your eyes and smiled at Michael, lifting your head a bit. “I promise I will.” 

He smiled at you, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes as he did, opening them when his lips left your skin. “Get better, Ro.” 

You nodded, smiling as he stood and left the room. You spent the rest of that day in bed, the girls all stopping in after rehearsal to give you some love. 

Now, a few days had passed and you had forgotten to tell Calum about your injury. Between your worried parents and even more worried coworkers, the thought had just slipped your mind; until he FaceTimed you and opened with that question. 

“I’m on bed rest for the week, then Kay is coming back to check on it.” You said, your camera flipping back around to face you. 

“Well if it’s a sprain you should stay off of it for a bit longer than just a week, doll,” Calum said, his full and pouty lips turned down at the ends as he spoke. 

You felt your lips twitch into a half smile, his brown eyes clouded with worry. “It’s not that bad, bubba.” His new nickname from you flowed easily, his smile returning for a second when he heard it. 

“Do you need anything? I can’t imagine you’re able to get around easily with that.” 

“It’s difficult but I manage.” 

The tone in your voice wasn’t very convincing as you watched Calum get up from his bed, the background moving behind him. “I’m coming over there.”

“Calum Thomas-” 

“I know what you’re about to say,” he interrupted. You pouted, causing him to laugh a bit. “I’m coming over there. You need a nurse, and while I appreciate how independent you are, I can’t let you hobble around on your own.”

You huffed, still pouting as he spoke but ultimately accepting it. The two of you said your goodbye-for-nows and hung up, swinging your legs over the bed to hop into your bathroom. 

Leaning against the counter you looked at yourself, your reflection projecting the slight bags under your eyes and your messy hair. God, did I really just FaceTime him like this?, you thought, grabbing your brush and gently running it through your hair. You grabbed a hair tie and tied it up into a messy bun, sighing as you stared at yourself again. 

Good enough. 

You hobbled back to your bed, adjusting the sheets and fixing your blanket around yourself before you hobbled to the door and unlocked it. Once that was settled you went back to bed, a hiss escaping you as you accidentally put weight on your bad ankle. 

Not too long after you had settled back in the door opened. 

“Someone order a sexy nurse?”

Calum’s joke made you laugh, adjusting enough to be sitting up in bed as Calum made his appearance. In his hand he had a paper bag and his phone, keys dangling from his pinky before he set them on the coffee table. Briefly his eyes met yours, a smile on his lips before his eyes traveled to the wrap on your ankle. 

Almost instantly he was pouting, carefully sitting beside you on the bed and looking at your injury. “Didn’t look nearly as bad as it is on camera,” he said gently, pausing to look at you. “Can I look at it? I used to play soccer, I like to think I know what I’m doing.” 

You nodded quietly, the man setting his phone and the paper bag on your bed before gingerly shifting to the opposite edge of your bed. You were surprised at how gentle he could be, his calloused hands moving your ankle to rest on his thigh before he started to unwrap it. 

A low whistle escaped him once the wrap was off, his fingers softly trailing over your skin. You honestly hadn’t looked at your ankle without the wrap too much, hating that you had to have it in the first place, but now you winced just at the sight of it, causing Calum to pull his hands away and hold them up in the air. 

“Did I hit something? What’s I do?” He asked sweetly, worry dominating his features. 

You shook your head, sending him a smile to reassure him. “It just...looks bad. Is that a bruise?” 

Cal nodded. “Yup. A gnarly one at that,” he complimented, a smile on his lips. “Definitely looks like every other sprain I’ve seen. You’re staying off of it right?” When you nodded, so did he, the man gently putting your ankle back on the pillows and fluffing them up for you. 

“What’s in this?” You asked, your hand reaching for the paper bag. He grinned, letting you open it and return the expression when you saw what was inside.

“Muffins?” 

“Your favorite.” 

You squealed a bit in excitement, Calum laughing as you pulled out a pastry and immediately began devouring it. The man kept a smile on his face as you did so, your eyes meeting his for a second before going back to your muffin. 

The rest of the day passed lazily, you and Calum chatting and having fun together. When you get a text from Luke you quickly invite him over as well, the man getting there surprisingly fast. 

“Lukey,” you said, picking up the bag you had moved to your nightstand. “I saved you a muffin!” 

The blonde grinned, pulling a chair up to your side of the bed before settling in with the muffin. Getting to have two of your friends together to hang out was blissful, all three of you joking around until they had to go. 

Luke dipped first, the man needing to go get ready for work that night while Calum lingered. He had taken Luke’s previous spot in the chair, his hands in the pocket of his hoodie as the two of you talked. 

“I didn’t know you played soccer,” you said, referring to his mention of it earlier. 

Cal smiled fondly. “Yeah, I played all the time when I was a kid,” he said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Even went to Brazil for a couple of weeks to train, so I guess you could say I was pretty good.” 

You smiled at him, his features getting a little bit sad. “What made you stop?” You asked softly, reaching towards him to tug the hood off his face. 

The man sighed, pulling down the hood gently. “As time went on I just wasn’t passionate about it anymore,” he said, shrugging. The sadness was clinging to his features still, making you feel like all you wanted was to tug him to you so you could make it better. 

“I love the sport and I’ll watch games and play every once in a while,” he said softly, his eyes trained on his hands. “But nothing professional.”

You tried to smile at him and let it fade when he didn’t return it, instead opting to gently shove his shoulder. “Well when I’m all healed up you’ll have to teach me to play.” 

Calum’s head lifted and he grinned. A new light returned to his eyes that brought butterflies to your stomach. “Really? You mean it?” 

You nodded. “I would love to learn!”

Calum’s grin only grew, a nod bopping his head a bit. “You have yourself a deal.” 

You grinned in return, pausing as Calum’s phone pinged with a new text. He politely said he had to go and the two of you said your goodbyes, Calum leaning over to give you a quick hug before collecting his things and leaving. 

Within a week of your fall your ankle was looking much better; the bruising definitely made it look worse, the pain shrinking to a dull ache within that time frame. 

Kaykay held your ankle in her hand carefully, fingers gently pressing around the muscles in it while Ashton and Sierra stood behind her and watched. Sierra looked much more worried than Ashton did, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip as Kay inspected everything.

“It’s looking really good,” she said finally, gently placing it back on the pillows as she smiled at you. “You’ve been icing it, keeping weight off of it?” 

You nodded. “Can I start using it again? Maybe do a routine?” 

Kay smiled again, patting your leg reassuringly. “Well, you should be able to start using it in a couple more days. Nothing too serious though,” she stressed, giving you and Sierra a look. “Light stretches, no heels. I’ll go home and send Ashton in tomorrow with some physical therapy things and worksheets she can use to get the muscles used to being used again.” 

Sierra nodded, breathing a sigh of relief as she met your eyes. “Thank you so much, Kay,” she said honestly, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze. “I promise I’ll keep this one from overworking it. Would you be able to check in again next week?” 

“It would be my absolute pleasure,” Kay agreed, putting some brightly colored tape on the sides of your ankle. “I’m much too invested in this one to leave her in someone else’s care, anyway.” 

You smiled kindly at Kaykay, watching as Ashton kindly escorted her out. Sierra hung back, keeping your hand in hers as she sighed. Her dark hair was held up in a bun, athletic leggings and crop top on - her go to rehearsal gear. 

“Listen to me,” she said sweetly, kneeling down by your side as she took your attention. “I know you hate not being on that stage.” 

God, it was like she could read your mind. 

“I miss it, Sisi,” you said, squeezing her hand. “I miss being with my sisters and dancing.” 

Sierra smiled at you, a hand reaching up to gently move some hair from your face. “I know, petal. But we’re going to take it slow.” 

You opened your mouth to protest until she gave you a look, your lips closing immediately.

“I refuse to let you push your body too hard, petal. I know how you’re feeling, trust me, I do, but we need to look after your health. That’s my priority.”

Your eyes fell to your lap as she spoke, a quiet but sad nod bobbing your head until Sierra gave your hand one last squeeze. 

“I have to go to my office to do some stuff before rehearsal, but I’ll send Michael down to help you up. I’m sure the girls would love to see you again.”

A smile appeared on your lips at that, Sierra kissing your knuckles before putting your hand in your own lap and leaving the room. Now alone, you sighed; you really hadn’t realized how much you craved being physical again until she brought it up, your body itching to get moving in any way, shape, or form again. You swung your legs over the side of your bed and carefully stood, huffing as you realized how badly you wanted not only to move, but attention and affection. 

With thoughts swirling around your mind you hobbled to the bathroom, figuring you better shower before Michael comes down to help you up to the lounge. The dull ache intensified when you put weight on your ankle and you quickly stopped, sighing as you leaned against the wall and turned on the shower. 

The hot water and your own thoughts distracted you enough that you didn’t hear the door to your room open and close, Michael stepping inside. He had been dealing with some things since Crystal’s explosion and hadn’t had a chance to see you since then, so when Sierra sent him down to collect you he happily obliged. He paused when he heard the water running in the bathroom, figuring he would sit on your couch and wait patiently for you to be ready. 

When you carefully got out of the shower you towel dried your hair, trying to keep it from dripping too much before you wrapped the towel around your own body. Still oblivious to the other person in your home you stepped out of the bathroom, towel barely hanging on to your body as you stepped in view of Michael. 

Immediately you yelped, unaware of his presence until that moment. A deep blush covered your cheeks, Michael’s face looking much the same as his eyes took in your form. You noticed the beginnings of a tent and quickly turned your eyes away, frozen in place as Michael quickly looked away as well. 

“Uh-” you stammered, quickly running a hand through your damp hair. Now that you noticed his arousal you felt the same beginning in you. “I-I, uh, didn’t hear you come in.” 

Michael cleared his throat, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water before he could answer. “S-Sorry, I should have said something.” 

The two of you looked at each other in silence, your teeth finding a home on your bottom lip. “How’s Crystal?”

Michael blushed again. “We uh-” he started, clearing his throat again. “We broke up. Just wasn’t working out.” 

You nodded, the tension in the room rising and thickening as Michael stood slowly. You didn’t know what your facial expression was like but you hoped it told him what you wanted; the craving for physical affection was at a peak, a warm feeling blooming in your body as he stepped closer still. 

His fingertips brushed against your bare legs before playing at the hem of the towel around your body, your eyes still not meeting Michael’s as he brought his hands up to your hips. It was an action he had done before, usually to gently guide you out of the way so he could move things around, but this was different, the touch sending jolts through your body even through the towel. 

His finger gently tapped under your chin, his thumb resting just under your bottom lip as he pulled your gaze up to his. 

“Alright?” He asked, his voice deeper and softer than normal. You chewed the inside of your cheek. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

You met his beautiful eyes as his hands moved, one gently tugging the towel from your hands. It fell to the ground as Michael swallowed thickly, taking in your frame as his hands touched your still warm skin. When his eyes met yours again you closed the gap, letting his lips meet yours as you pressed your bodies together, all your cravings for physical affection and closeness taking over your rational thought process.

He carefully picked you up, laying you gently in your bed before he pulled away and stripped himself. When he pulled off his boxers he exposed his erection, your eyes begging for his length as he moved over you, pressing his lips against yours again before moving them down your neck. His bit of scruff scratched at your skin but you welcomed it, your fingers burying themselves in his hair while he kissed your skin. 

While his lips worked your neck his hand moved to your thigh, gently nudging your leg open before his fingers found your slick core. You bit your lip to cover a moan, the man smirking against you before letting his fingers trace you. Another moan threatened to escape, his head lifting to watch you squirm under him. 

Michael was silent as he felt you, his lips pressing sweet kisses to your face while his fingers brushed against your clit. Without warning two fingers slipped into you, curling in to you while you whined. He pumped his fingers, his thumb playing with your clit while he stimulated you. His eyes darkened ever so slightly as he watched and listened to you, his erection only getting harder as he got to see you get off. 

Soon enough he had you climaxing, your orgasm spilling over his fingers and your lips singing his name as you came. He pumped his fingers through your high, pulling them out when you came back down and licking them clean. His lips met yours and you could taste yourself on his tongue, his length poking your thigh as his tongue brushed your bottom lip. 

You made quick work of reaching for a condom, getting comfortable while he rolled it on and lined himself up with you. His lips met yours again as he pushed himself in, both of you moaning against each other while he stretched you again. His face buried itself in your neck as his hips moved, his thrusts quickly picking up speed as you gripped his back. Your nails dug into his skin, pulling another moan from him as you did so. It felt so good to have him fucking you, the feeling that you’ve been craving finally being satisfied.

Within a few moments the two of you were reaching your peaks, both of you spilling over at the same time as he slowed to a stop. You both rode your euphoria as long as possible, Michael only pulling out once he was back. 

He shifted off of you, carefully disposing of the condom in the bathroom as you collected yourself. You sat up carefully, wincing at the new ache between your legs as Michael appeared. He carefully moved beside you, somehow already back in his boxers and pants as he held out your towel with a smile. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said softly, helping you stand before pressing a kiss to your forehead. He let you clean yourself up before he helped you get dressed, his hands steadying you when you needed it. Once you were ready and dressed he slid his arm around your waist, yours going around his shoulders as he helped you walk. 

Before you even reached your door your thoughts crashed into you, panic immediately crashing over you as you stopped. I just had sex with Michael, you thought, biting the inside of your cheek. 

Michael paused as you did, his face worried now as you reached for the wall. What did I just do? You asked yourself. I don’t have feelings for Michael oh my god, he’s going to hate me-

“Love,” he said softly, seeing the panic on your face. He carefully cupped your cheeks, bringing your gaze to his. His eyes were back to their normal seafoam, the color helping ground you just a bit. 

“We don’t have to do that again,” he said gently, his hands moving to rub your arms. “I could tell you just needed to get off, it doesn’t have to mean anything. Okay?” 

A sigh of relief escaped you as Michael continued. “Us having sex isn’t going to affect our friendship. We’ll go back to normal. Promise.” 

His words reassured you, happy to know you were both on the same page. “I’m s-”

“Shh,” he said gently, smiling at you. “Let’s just get you upstairs before everybody’s asking where you are.” 

You met his smile and went back to your previous position, the two of you slowly making your way to the table and chair Sierra had set up for you. As you walked in you were met with applause, laughter bubbling up out of you as you sat down. Michael smiled at you, giving your shoulder a squeeze before going behind the bar to take inventory. 

It felt good to be with your sisters again. 

[daviddobrikisabitch-blog]

Patience / David Dobrik Smut

warning: this is rated R. real icky stuff, pals. adults only!!! pff

summary: the main character’s boyfriend is David Dobrik and they’re in love n stuff. it’s fun

word count: 4,020

enjoy!!! <3

Patience is a lovely virtue. What a wonderful, gratifying, ethical thing to practice. Yes, I'm sure that knowing the ethics and the merit of this manner is probably all well and good enough to make a lot of people find it within themselves to just generally suck it up and friggin' wait for things; however, this is a method that I definitely have yet to master. In fact, I'm quite certain that I am going to need a lot more practice. I am just so fucking bad at handling anticipation. Sometimes I find the grip of apprehension to be so unbearably tight that I just give way to the tension and collapse under the pressure. It's around 1a.m. when I have exhausted all the apps on my phone, and I decide that I don't want to be alone in this big, lonely bed anymore. It's actually only been about 20 minutes since I came in here, but it feels like it's been a lot longer. Perhaps that's because I am finding it very difficult to stop thinking about that boy who is in the other room, just a short journey away from me. He is just as alone as I am right now, and I am almost certain that he must be thinking about me too. The thought of him is definitely a very hard thought to ignore, especially when it is so dang easy to just go walk out and see him. Nothing is holding me back. I get out of bed and quietly tiptoe my way into the living room. And there he is - David Dobrik. The love of my life. Still laying there on the couch in his favourite position; the same position that he had been in when I had announced that I was heading to bed less than half an hour ago. His legs are stretched out across the cushions in front of him, his head is propped up with a pillow behind his neck, and his laptop is resting on his chest. He must be comfy, but I'm pretty sure that this scrunched up way he always lays when he edits is really bad for his back. But he gets annoyed when I remind him of this, and at this point I've learned to just keep it to myself. I don't have the best posture either. Maybe he hasn't noticed that I'm standing here yet. Perhaps he is far too immersed in his work; his laptop speakers are blasting choppy bits and pieces of noise, various voices, music, and loud laughter, and his fingers are clicking and swiping away at the mousepad, organizing all of the clips and sounds to fit that finished puzzle he has in his vision. His brown hair is a dishevelled, fluffy mess, and his brow is furled as he concentrates on the screen in front of him. I love the way that he looks when he's focused. When he's creating that thing that invigorates him and lights the fire his under his ass. I can practically see that blazing ball of passion glowing brightly behind his eyes as he works. It's so strong; so much so that it's as though I can actually feel it energizing the air around him and flowing all throughout the room. It cascades over me and lingers on my skin, sending excited chills up my spine; this fire he kindles has long since ignited a bright spark somewhere deep inside of me. I've felt these torrid flames for some time now, and they only seem to be growing more and more radiant as each moment with him passes. I'm in love with that great intensity that lives inside of David's heart. I love to be around it; I love feeling it. It is fucking intoxicating. I would blissfully soak in it forever if I could; but ironically, that blazing motivation that he possesses makes him a little bit unavailable at times... I softly and slowly start to move closer to the couch; closer to David. I'm trying to be as dainty with my movements as possible; a part of me is hoping that he won't notice me. I'm having an internal debate about whether or not I should try and scare him, but my heart really doesn't want to disrupt him like that when he is clearly so in the zone (even though the prick has absolutely no problem scaring the absolute shit out of me and everyone else he loves). The soft spot I've grown for him can perhaps be a little bit too soft sometimes. I'm right next to him now, but I've decided not to scare him. I'm just standing here trying to figure out how to gently announce myself without giving him a start, but before I can think of it he is already looking at me. He doesn't really jump at all, but his eyebrows raise in a surprised fashion. "Fuck! When did you get there? You creep, Jesus Christ." A flush of warmth washes over me. Awe. Shit. I missed his voice. It sounds so tender and homey to me. Even though his words are calling me a creep... every sound still manages to flutter my heart. I grin at him. "You should really work on those peripherals, bud. If I was an assassin sent here to kill you I bet I could have easily just taken you out." He rolls his eyes at me, but he's smiling. I continue. "Dave, seriously, one swift lunge at you and I'd have my arm right around your neck and then just fuckin'-" I make a menacing *crack* sound. He's just smirking at me. It's that smirk that he does; the annoyingly sexy one. He knows that if I let go of my composure for too long, that captivating smirk has the potential of making me a blushy, flustered fawn of a woman; I'd become putty in those (probably already sweaty) palms of his. But now, I keep myself firm and I squeeze onto that composure as tightly as I can. No way am I going to give him the upper hand here, as he always seems to manage to have. I'm feeling powerful tonight. "Oh, yeah? How are you gonna manage that with those noodle arms?" He mocks me. I scoff at his honesty and pretend to be offended for a moment. But, I cave. My arms are, in fact, quite noodly. "Fine, okay, fair enough. But ... You fucking love pasta." He makes a deep humming sound and pauses for a moment. I can sense that he is beginning to fully take in my presence. His eyes are moving down my body, and although he is good at keeping his gaze languid and lazy, I can feel his flames turn that special shade that they only become when he's around me. He likes to play coy and act like I don't have the effect on him that I do; he likes to be in control. Or, he likes to seem in control. But, I know that underneath all that strongly painted bravado, David actually loves the submissive way that I can make him feel. In his life of constant domination and authority, he fucking craves it. While it's quiet, I sit down on the couch in front of him, placing myself right over his stretched out legs. He exhales audibly (do I sense a hint of frustration?) and he turns his eyes back to his laptop screen. "Honestly, baby, I knew you were there the whole time," he smugly informs me. The ghost of that fucking smirk is still lingering over his lips. "I just wanted you to give you a bit of hope... You know you can't sneak up on me." I giggle a little bit. "Right, of course, David. Of course you knew the whole time. Because that means that, technically... You were the one sneaking up on me... Right? Because you were being the sneaky one in choosing not to notice my sneakiness." "Uh, not "your sneakiness". Your attempted and failed sneakiness," he cockily corrects me. "And yeah, it's funny how I always win no matter what, huh?" This was all apart of his act. He knows full well that when we're together, we both always win no matter what. He just likes to tease me, and he knows that I fucking love it. He knows that I can tease him back just as indomitably. "When you win, I win. We're on the same team, baby. I'm rooting for you." This makes him make eye contact with me again for a moment, and we share a deep, knowing gaze; I feel a pang of heat inside of me and it's as if I can actually see that pang glow behind his eyes. He's blushing. Yes, he can play "manly" and domineering all he wants, but it's obvious how he really feels; I can make him just as flustered as he makes me. "I'm happy to have your noods on my team," he cracks. I laugh and then I lift my arms up into a flex. "What, these sexy things?" Raising my arms makes my pink, cropped "CLICKBAIT" hoodie lift up and reveal a hint of my breasts, and David definitely notices. How could he not? I've got nothing else on but these tight, hip-hugging, matching pink shorts. I am definitely creating a view that David could really get (all up) into, but it's clear that he wants to hold back his passion for me right now. It's already a few hours into Saturday and people are expecting a new video. David is not one to enjoy letting people (or himself) down. So, he keeps a hold on his composure, while I let my hands fall down onto his legs. "I guess I understand why you're happy..." I say as I let my fingertips lightly drag up his plaid pajama bottoms. He has a boner. He does that a lot. The connection we share can have him hard as a rock within seconds of even the smallest notion of something sexual between us. I absolutely love it, but he can find it quite annoying at times. "Okay, seriously, baby... Please stop... Please," he begs, and as he says this I notice his cock stir. Ironically, it really turns both of us on when one of us tries to deny our obvious, intense sexual tension. There is really no hiding it; this feeling is powerful as fuck. "I told you I was coming to bed soon, just please wait until I'm finished." I move my hands away from him and I sigh and pout. He's trying not to look at me, but I see him make a couple glances. Of course, he's still smirking a slight bit. Often when he acts like he's pushing away our sexuality, he's really hoping that I keep trying to convince him. And I always do. "The vlog isn't gonna suck your cock, Dave." He lets out a loud laugh and covers his flushed face with his hand. "Baby, fuck off, I'm serious! Shut your pretty little mouth." I'm blushing now. "Shut my pretty little mouth where? Around that hard cock you've got there?" He chuckles darkly and looks right at me, his eyes fervent. "You better stop," he sternly tells me. I see right through it. "What if I don't?" I taunt. He bites his bottom lip and shakes his head. "You better stop." He managed an air of authority there that made my pussy pulse a little bit. What can I say: I love it when he tells me what to do. And I love seeing what he does when I don't do what he says even more... "Okay, fine." I move off of his legs and crawl a few feet over to the other side of the couch. He huffs and goes back to editing, trying his hardest not to pay attention to me. I'm facing him, mirroring his position, watching him work again. He's much more unhinged than he'd been earlier; he's having trouble breathing normally and there is a vein bulging on his neck. His face is still red, and I'm certain that his palms must be very sweaty by now. I gradually move my stare down the curves of his neck, down his t-shirt covered chest and stomach... his cock is still hard. I can see the outline of it bulging through the thin fabric of his pajamas. That thick, beautiful cock that I've come to love so much. I'm finding it hard not to stare... not to trace along the imprint with my heated gaze; not to notice how tense my surely soaked pussy has been feeling and how that feeling is building with every passing second... and I can tell that he's finding it hard not to think about this as well, because as I'm letting these naughty thoughts pass through my head, the blush on his cheeks deepens. I can't help it. I'm picturing him naked; I'm thinking about what that lovely cock looks like beneath that fabric. I'm thinking about how hard I've made him, and about how firm he would feel if my hand was wrapped around his shaft. I love that look he gets on his face when I push my tongue out of my mouth and I slowly lean in, my eyes watching his carefully as I finally let the soft, warm wetness touch the smooth head of his cock... he tends to make sounds as well. Little, gaspy types of sounds. Sometimes they're almost accusatory as if he's scolding me for being such a cock-sucking little slut. But, he's never really scolding me... he feels blessed to have such an absolute thot be so madly in love with him. I'm breathing heavily now, and I keep sighing exasperatedly. Fantasizing about David is a dangerous game to play... it's often too much for me to handle; my pussy practically starts screaming. And I know that he can hear it... even though he's acting like he can't. He can't hide his true feelings with me; I know how badly he wants to just toss his laptop aside and come clamber on top of me. And knowing how badly he wants it, but watching him pretend like he doesn't... it only turns me on even more. I'm thinking about his fingers now... swiping away on that mousepad. It's wild to me how he can use that laptop pad to edit and not have to use a regular mouse... it (like most things he does) can make my pussy go nuts. Thinking about his fingertip swiftly gliding back and forth across that smooth surface, occasionally pressing it inward... this can definitely become an overwhelming thought. As I let myself fall further into my imagination, I bring my hands toward my body and I start to graze my own fingertips along my bare thighs. I tickle them for a few moments, listening to the sounds of David editing and watching the intensity on his face; bringing my gaze lower and admiring his jawline; even lower to watch the way the delicate parts of his neck move as he swallows and tenses up. Basking in the heat I'm feeling, I gradually move my hands upward to brush over my exposed stomach; very lightly, and tantalizingly slow. I revel in the sensations and the excitement as I come into a decision that has me giddy with foretaste. I get into a better position, getting comfy against a pillow behind me and then I spread open my legs as wide as I can. My one leg gets pushed against the back of the couch, and my other foot is placed over on the floor. My movement catches a glance from David, and then he does a well-deserved doubletake, his eyebrows shooting up. "What the fuck are you doing?" He asks, but I'm pretty sure he knows what I'm doing. I can tell that he's trying to act shocked and agitated, but he just can't seem to keep the corners of his mouth from turning up. "I'm getting comfy," I say matter-of-factly. And then I pull my sweater up over my breasts. He fully grins at me. "You fucking slut..." he's watching me intently, a madcap look behind his eyes. He's already slightly moving his laptop to the side. I giggle and I bring my hands up to start massaging my boobs for his viewing pleasure. "Your fucking slut," I correct him. "Oh, fuck you," he says hoarsely before biting his lip. His brows furl as he watches me pinch and tug at my nipples. "Oh, fuck me? Please?" I lower my right hand between my legs and I run it's fingertips across the inside of my thigh, slowly leading them over to my fabric-covered pussy. The tension has me already grinding my hips back and forth against my shorts, in desperate need of friction. David makes a noise that falls between a huff and a groan, and he puts his laptop on the floor. "You're just my fucking desperate, sexy, little slut, aren't you?" He makes a move to come towards me, but I have other plans. "Stop." He stops. "You stay over there." He makes a face - slightly dismayed, but clearly elated and excited to see what happens next. He gets comfy on the other side of the couch. "You make me stop working and now you won't even let me touch you?" "Hey, I didn't make you do anything, Dave. You're the one that put down the laptop." I brush my fingers over my clit and a rush of thrill runs through me. It makes my eyes close and my lips part involuntarily, and I make a small sound. "You bitch," he says, his tone low and kind of whiney. I giggle again, and I rub myself in circles over my shorts, opening my eyes and looking right at him as I start to immerse myself in the pleasure. He stares back at me, slowly shaking his head with his eyes narrowed. "Does that feel good, you fucking tease?" I immediately start nodding and bite my lip as I moan a little bit. We're both blushing profusely. He's breathing almost just as heavily as I am, and he can't seem to sit still. He keeps switching his gaze between my eyes and my hand, and every time we make eye contact there is a hitch in both of our breath. I moan again and he is looking more and more desperate by the second. He keeps fidgeting; grabbing at his pants, touching his neck, running a hand roughly through his hair... And when I bring my legs together for a moment so that I can tug off my shorts (reveal that I am not wearing any panties) and toss them at his face with a giggle, he huffs yet another time and slumps himself into the couch, letting his arms fall limp at his sides and staring at me as I spread my legs for him again. I do it slowly because the suspense is always important. He gazes at my exposed pussy as if it's the holy grail. "Baby..." he says quietly, letting the word drag out a bit. I smile and nod. "Yep-" I use both hands to open and expose myself even deeper. "That's where it would come out of." His wide grin is always priceless. He speaks, and his tone is downright giddy. "That's where 'it' would cum into..." I let out a "ha ha" at his pun, my eyes lingering on his as I start tracing my fingertips around my pussy. Not on my pussy... Not yet. Like I said: suspense is important. I'm tickling the delicate skin all around it, looking at David's reaction intently. He licks his lips and I watch as he brings his hand over his fabric-covered cock. He squeezes it, and as he does my pussy tightens, knowing he's about to retaliate. "Look what you've done..." he scolds me. "Look how hard I am, baby." He squeezes it again, and then he pulls it out of his pants. My eyes widen, as they do every time I see that beautiful thing. What a perfect cock. Literally the perfect cock for me. I trace the curves of it with my eyes as I trace the curves of my pussy with my fingertips. David wraps his palm around his shaft. "You've started a war," he says as he slowly starts to rub himself. I grin and bite my lip. "Yeah, well, I'm pretty confident in my army..." I run my pointer finger right down the middle of my pussy and my lips part with a small sigh. David groans. "Yeah, your fuckin... Your noodle army." Leave it to David to make me full out belly laugh while my fingers are on my vagina. "Both noodle armies." I wave at him with both arms and then my left-hand finds one of my breasts and my right-hand goes back downtown. I tug at my nipple as I finally let my finger slip inside of me. Gently, though. Just a little dip and swirl. David goes nuts at even the slightest touch. I can see the sweat dripping down his glistening forehead. What are you thinking about, huh, baby?" He asks me. I bite my bottom lip again and I crack a half-smirk. "I'm thinking about you watching me..." I tell him. And it's true. The thought of him watching me in this kind of state is almost too much for me to handle.  I have to keep teasing myself so that I don't cum too fast and ruin the show. It's clear that David loves to hear that I think about him when I masturbate. The head of his cock is getting to be a strained, purplish colour, and the look on his face is priceless. I pump two fingers inside of me, and he sighs. "You're a goddess," he says, matter-of-factly. I purse my lips and shrug my shoulders. "Who, me? No, no... just a noodle." I slip my fingers out of myself and place them on the clit, rubbing in circles ever so softly. David speeds up his own assault on his cock. "I'm a hard noodle." The strained look on his face... his eyes strained closed; his lips pursed in a light-hearted grimace. I can't help but giggle at him again. He's so cute and hilarious, especially when he's all horny and needy. I want to get on top of him so badly. "We both love pasta," I whisper with a giddy grin. I can hardly take what I'm doing seriously with all this silliness that's going on. "You're making it hard to be sexy," I say. He goes, "Ha!" "I can promise you, baby. I'm definitely hard and you're definitely sexy." "You're sexy, too," I assure him. And he is, oh wow. I don't even know how to describe the intense feeling I get when I look at this boy; when I think about this boy. This passion... It could set the world on fire. The urges are astronomical. David starts to shake his head. "What are we doing right now?" He asks. "Why are you not on top of me?" I smile. "We're seeing who's gonna crack first." "Oh, it's gonna be you," he informs me. "You make me lose focus and stop editing, you get the heck over here." I smile wider and shake my head. "No. You thought editing is more important than giving the love of your life attention and now you realize how silly that is. Now, you come over here." We both pause and contently watch each other in silence. We're both still touching ourselves, but only lightly. We're mostly just admiring each other; neither of us is really waiting for the other to come over. We're just content in the soft stillness right now, admiring the beauty of one another. There's no need for a fuss or a big desperate commotion. We are happy.

[sope-and-shine]

Christmas Special: Day 22

-> Pairing: Hoseok x Reader -> Non-Idol!AU // Strangers!AU -> Word Count: 1.8k -> Summary: Getting stuck on the ski lift was not you ideal way of meeting new people, but it didn’t hurt to try. -> Warning(s): No 

A/N: Bless this GIF

The holiday season is a busy time of year. Families coming together after long periods of time just to spend some time together for a few days of the year. Most going to family homes to spend the holidays in familiar places, while some travel to extravagant locations just to get away and enjoy new experiences with family or rekindle family traditions.

You wanted to spend your Christmas like most families do, going to visit family for the first time in months just to spend those short few days together, catching up with siblings and cousins even if you’d regret it instantly, listening to your aunt's constant questioning of when you’d settle down with a nice man.

...

So, maybe not everything was welcomed, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to see family again. Especially, with the way things were going up here at the Euphoria Hot Spring and Ski Lodge Resort. It’s been around since the early 40s, and quickly became a hot spot for thrill seekers. One of your friends - Jeongguk -actually frequents the lodge when he gets a long enough break. He’s the only reason you knew this place existed, and he was also the main reason you were stuck on duty for the holiday instead of being allowed to go home. He’d done his best to secure you a spot here at the Euphoria Hot Spring and Ski Resort, even managing to snag a manager position. 

Even more unfortunate for you, he was the reason you were now stuck on a Ski lift with someone you didn’t even know.

You were only going up to the top to find out what was going on that a manager had to be called after security. You don’t ski, you don’t snowboard, you barely do the occasional sledding down a bunny slope when given the opportunity. So, why they had to call you instead of Seokjin or Namjoon was beyond you entirely. Thankfully, the problem was only a little ways down the slope, and the patrol team was supposed to meet you at the top with a snowmobile to take you down to the problem and then back down to the lodge.

You passed everyone in line with a small wave of your badge, being placed on the lift next to a bright-eyed snowboarder decked out in white and green everywhere. You gave him a nod and he seemed to take the hint that you weren’t one for small talk. However, as soon as you got about halfway to the top was when everything went wrong. The lift stopped very suddenly, but you figured it was so someone who needed extra time to hop on could. No big deal.

Wrong.

You wait 10 minutes for the lift to continue before your little radio crackles and you can hear Taeil from his position at the bottom, “Hey, (Y.n), can you hear me?”

“Yeah, what’s going on?” You ask, pulling the radio from your side to respond. You already know what his answer is going to be, you had the feeling before he said. “The lift broke down.”

“You can’t be serious…” You groan. Placing the mic close to your mouth again you ask, “How long until we get the engineer out to fix out?”

“He’s on a job in town, so it could be an hour to 30 minutes.” He says.

You sigh, “Sweet Jesus...Evacuate anyone that can be from the lift and contact patrol at the top of the hill.”

His voice crackles through the radio, “Yes, ma’am. Stay warm up there.” And then, just like that, he’s gone again. 

Leaving you alone with the stranger next to you. It wasn’t like you were scared of the man next to you - on the contrary you were happy to have a human with you in this situation - but the drop below you would certainly break a bone or two if you fell from this height.

“Are you okay?” The man next to you asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

You turn to face him and take in his bright, worried features, flashing him a cool smile, “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay? Is there anyone you need to be called…?” You stumble as you search for what to call him, feeling weird about calling the man next to you, obviously around your age ‘sir’. Thankfully, he was quick to pick up on your struggle.

“Hoseok. No worries about calling anyone, my friends are in the next swing.” He says, pointing up to the next swing where two heads full of blue and pink sit talking aimlessly to each other while they wait patiently. “I’ve never been stuck before; How long does this usually take?”

You shrug, “Not since I’ve been here, so I can’t say for sure. I hope it’s not too long.”

Hoseok tares at you a little longer than you’d like, and it’s only when you move away from him very slightly that he speaks up again. “You don’t do any winter sports, do you?”

“How did you know?” You ask.

“Well, you didn’t bring anything to get down the slope, so that’s my first clue. My second clue is the fact that you look so uncomfortable being stuck here.” He points out. He wasn’t wrong, your left hand was clutching onto the railing so tight your knuckles had turned white. You other hand held your radio in your lap while your eyes would flicker from it to the sky above you instead of the ground below. You were doing your best not to look down.

“I think anyone would be uncomfortable being stuck 50ft in the air.” You say in response, causing the man to chuckle.

“Right, but you look even more so.” His smile is genuine, but you watch it turn to a frown, “Plus, you’re wearing the thinnest jacket I’ve ever seen on the slope.”

“Yeah, well, this was supposed to be quick.” You defend yourself, already regretting not grabbing your big coat from the office. But you could deal with a little cold...At least you thought so. Hoseok, however, was quick to start shrugging off some off the hat on top of his head. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, confused as he tries to place his knit hat over your ears.

“You didn’t even bring a scarf with you, I can’t just let you freeze!” He manages to get you to comply with him, tucking some hair into the hat and locking in just a little extra heat so you won’t freeze in the cold. He sits a little further back to take in his work and laughs, “Shouldn’t you be more conscious of this if you have a responsibility up here?”

“Should be. That does not equal that I am.” You challenge, secretly enjoying the warmth his hat provided as well as the piney scent mixed in with his spicy cologne.

“Well, fix that.” He demands playfully. You both continue talking, sharing various interests while you wait for the lift to be fixed, even playing ‘I spy’ at one point just to keep everything fresh. You’d learned he was here to visit with his friends Jimin and Taehyung before they all transferred to the college you were attending with Jeongguk in the town just a shuttle ride away. They had decided they would do a friend Christmas instead of a generic family one, and you almost envied how well they were able to pull it off so far. 

About halfway through your conversation you begin to notice Hoseok looking everywhere but the ground, jumping very slightly when the swing you’re on moves with the wind. “Are you sure you’re okay? I know I’m not used to this but you’re shaking too.”

“No! I’m fine! Trust me~” He says. Only his smile isn’t all that convincing anymore, and you give him a look to ensure that he knows you aren’t dumb. It’s enough to make the stranger sigh, “Okay, so maybe I’m not that fond of being stuck where I could literally fall to my death, but I’m trying to keep a brave face, okay?”

“Why?” You ask. It was beyond you why he would try to pretend to be okay. If you were him - which in a way you already are - you would not be able to mask your fear that well. But his answer really wasn’t one that you were expecting,“Because me being scared will only make you scared...I’m at least used to the trek.”

You shake your head, “You don’t have to put up a front with me.”

Your sincerity catches Hoseok off guard, and staring into each others eyes becomes a different experience entirely. It’s only when your radio crackles again that you’re caught off guard.

“Hey, boss!” Taeil chimes, distracting you from Hoseok right next you, “Technician just got started on the lift, he said it’s just a blown fuze and he can have it up in a minute.”

“Thanks Taeil.” You say.

“Patrol is going to see you at the top. They said they have the situation under control now, but they need you to check in with the offender.” He explains.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Within minutes of your answer, the lift starts to move again, and you’re very easily taken up to the top of the slope like it was nothing. You hope off with Hoseok, stumbling a little from the cold you feel in your limbs, but Hoseok is quick to steady you. You thank him, “It was really nice talking to you.”

“It was nice talking to you too.” He says back, lingering despite the calls of his friends from the beginning of the slope.

Here you would have to say goodbye, but a part of you didn’t want to at all. Hoseok was really nice to talk to - and not just because you were left stranded with him in a metal swing raised high into the air. He was a real person that was exceedingly handsome and very nice, and you didn’t want to let him go just like that. But then again, you really have no choice.

You clip your radio to you and reach up to grab for Hoseok’s hat to return it, “Here, you’re hat-” 

“Keep it.” Hoseok interrupts, placing a hand on top of yours to keep his hat in place. “If you want to give it back, then you can find me at the shuttle going into town that leaves at 7:30 and we can go for dinner to properly get to know each other...Besides, it looks cute on you.”

You blush at his proposal and his compliment. You weren’t one to agree to something like this so easily, but with him, you felt like you could do anything. And it wouldn’t hurt to have a new friend for the beginning of the semester, so what was the real harm?

“Sounds like a date.”

[dailynoahimagines]

Equestrian AU 

Warnings: Mild injury, back injury, mild language WC: 977

Summary: You and Noah ride at the same barn, but you take a fall. Lucky Noah is on hand to help. 

Though winter was on it’s way out, a chilly wind served as a cool reminder that the cold weather wasn’t over yet. The barn is quiet at this time of the morning, apart from the soft nicker of horses. You roam through the barn, pulling your jacket up around your neck as you try not to shiver. 

You stop outside the stall of your horse, Jet, and you slip into his stall, wrapping your arms around him and you can feel warmth radiating from underneath his stable blanket. Unclasping the buckles, you slip it off to reveal his gorgeous bay coat underneath. 

“Morning (y/n)!” A voice calls and a brunette haired, burly boy pops up over the stable door on the other side of the barn. 

“Jesus Noah!” you yell, startled. “You scared me half to death, I didn’t think anyone else was here!”

“What can I say?” Noah grins, pulling the rug of his own beautiful chestnut mare. “I”m full of surprises”

“You training today?” You ask as you reach for a body brush and begin working it in circles over Jet’s hindquarters. 

“Yeah just some light schooling, might head out onto the cross country track and do a few jumps. Sydnie isn’t so keen on ditches so I might do a few of those.”

You nod as you take a hoof in your hand and pick out Jet’s feet. “Fancy some company out on a the cross country track? I was going to do a few jumps for next weekends event.”

“Sure!” Noah calls out as he disappears back behind the stall. “Can always do some company. Besides it gives you a chance to make up an excuse for when I whip your ass at the event.”

You laugh. “Well we’ll just have you see about that.”

You follow Noah to the tack room and pickup your saddle, saddle blanket, martingale and bridle and you stuff Jet’s jumping boots under your elbow. 

“Need a hand there (y/n)?” Noah teases as he watches you struggle back to the stall. 

“Oh I wouldn’t dream of it.” You say back from underneath a cool smirk. 

It only takes a few minutes to tack up. You move almost on autopilot as you gently position the saddle over Jet’s back, ensuring that it fit properly and wasnt going to rub. You gently slip the bit inside his mouth and slide the bridle up his nose, doing up the buckles as you go. You always think Jet looks so handsome tacked up and ready to go. Lastly you place his boots around his fetlocks and make them nice and snug. 

You don’t even realize Noah is leaning against the barn door, with his helmet and back protector already on. 

“Come on (y/n), can you get any slower.” You jump for the second time that morning and vow to get him back. 

You jam your own helmet on and zip up your body protector, leading Jet out the stall and into the yard. Noah is already on and you lightly hoist yourself up onto Jet’s back. 

It’s only a short walk to the cross country jumps at the back of the barn but you enjoy it all the same. There’s something about riding with Noah that always makes you calm. There’s a cool wind but the sun is shining and it couldn’t be a more perfect day for jumping. But in your opinion, any day is perfect for jumping. You and Noah both warm the horses up, walking trotting and cantering and popping over a few small logs. Jet easily carries you over them. 

You and Noah move on to a few bigger fences and Jet soars over them. Noah follows you on Sydnie and she clears them with ease. 

You canter down a hill, over a bank and you head to a skinny brush. But you’re  a stride short and Jet chips in early. You feel him stumble and there’s nothing you can do but watch the ground rush up to meet you. 

Noah is beside you in an instant. “Don’t move!” he yells as he flings himself of Sydnie and runs to you. Everything is fuzzy and you can hear him calling an ambulance. 

“Noah check on Jet!” you moan as pain shoots up your back. everything seems distant and it seems like only seconds pass before paramedics have arrived. Noah is instructed to hold your head and keep it still in case of a spinal injury. 

“It’s all my fault.” you say to Noah who is peering down at you.

“It’s okay, Jet is okay.” Noah says, his face turning white. “Ethan is here, he’s got both Jet and Sydnie, I’m staying with you. 

“Please Noah.” you groan as the paramedics lift you onto the spinal board , “You have to make sure Jet is okay.”

“Shhh, relax, Jet is fine. He’s not lame or anything. Ethan has already taken him to have his legs hosed and to check for swelling. Just concentrate on yourself.”

“You’re just gonna feel me put the brace on.” the paramedic says to you in a soothing voice. “It’s going to be a bit uncomfortable. 

You feel him reach for your hand as the paramedic clips the brace around your neck and orange blocks are placed either side of your head to keep you still. 

“This is just a precaution.” The paramedic says. “I know it’s scary but we’re just being on the safe side.You’ll have a few xrays done to make sure there isn’t any damage to the spinal cord and to make sure there aren’t any breaks But you should be fine.”

“Guess you win by default huh Noah. Looks like I won’t be competing next weekend.”

“Don’t joke about that.” Noah says, his face still white, but he gives you a small smile and you know its going to be fine. 

[marvel-medigeek-fics]

The H Word: Hits

Part 3/? 

SUMMARY: Freedom always comes with a fight, and trauma makes people do uncharacter things. 

WARNINGS: language, violence

A/N: I know the last part was really short, and I hope this makes up for it. I am TERRIBLE with stretching out my fics, but practice makes progress. 

If you are struggling with anything mentioned (or not mentioned) in this story, please reach out to someone. You don’t deserve to suffer, especially alone. 

Word Count: 1731

It was just over 24 hours until Bruce finally let you return to your room. I had been a long, draining time of looking over your shoulder to see if anyone was coming. And that fear was for a multitude of reasons: a stranger coming around, anyone who was not Nat or Wanda and sometimes Sam coming around even, but mostly, it was because of the overwhelming sense of no privacy. 

It had been 24 hours and you couldn’t even do the one things you wanted to do most. Cry, and cry alone. Your bed was a welcome sight and as soon as you could, you jumped into it, savoring the plushness and freshly washedness of your blankets. 

“Whoever washed my sheets deserves some brownie points,” you said, throwing off your shoes and climbing under the covers.  “I’ll take those brownies anytime, Y/N,” Sam called from the doorway. Nat and Wanda rolled their eyes in sync.  “He did not wash your sheets. I doubt he even knows how to turn on the washer.” Nat said.  “Yeah, or even what laundry detergent is, or where we keep it,” Wanda said, her accent coming out thicker than usual as she continued Nat’s sarcasm. 

“Thanks, you two. For you know, being my girl code enforcers, or whatever,” you said as they headed for the door to leave you with your new found privacy. 

“You’re always welcome. We wouldn’t want to be the girl code enforcers for anyone else,” they said together, a talent you hadn’t really noticed before.

—

The first thing you wanted to do was take a damn shower, cry a little (or a lot), and then sleep like a baby. So you turned the shower up as hot as you could manage, in an attempt to wash off every bit of shame, guilt and anger you’d felt over the past day or so. The feeling of the water was enough to make you cry from how good it felt. Crying about anything feels terrible, but less so in the shower. Crying, crying, crying. You probably lost more water than the shower was shooting at you because of how much crying you did in the shower. 

By the time you had dried off, arranged your hair off of your neck and wrapped up in the softest clothes you owned: a sweatshirt from a long forgotten trip, running shorts and a fluffy robe, the sun had gone down and the skyline was lit up like the thousands of stars you hadn’t seen in so long. 

The blankets felt even softer after a long, long, long shower and you soon fell asleep, despite your mind’s protests. Those tears and this day had taken a lot of you. 

—

The next morning was one of those mornings where everything looks like it is going to be perfect. The sun shone through your blinds and cast its beams over your bed. It was warm and your first thought was to go back to sleep, but as soon as your eyes had closed again, someone was banging on your door. 

“Rise and shine!!” whoever was yelling this sounded so happy to be alive, it instantly put you in a worse mood. Like how can you be so chipper in the morning? 

You tried to fall back asleep, but a different voice chimed through the room, FRIDAY. “Mr. Wilson is requesting your presence in the kitchen. He says it is very flipping important. He also said for me to emphasize the flipping.” 

You groaned and laid in bed, wishing that it was a day where Sam would not decide to be cute or something and would let you sleep instead. But you finally threw the covers off, determined to have a good day outside of bedrest. 

After pulling your hair up and out of your face and getting dressed in something a little more flattering than a huge sweatshirt and shorts, you finally trodded downstairs into the kitchen. 

The entire team stopped their boisterous conversations as soon as you walking in the door. They each stared or looked away in what they thought was reverence, but was really just plain awkward. “Um, hi, guys,” you said, trying to break the very uncomfortable silence. No one said anything for a moment, and you tried to figure out if you were dreaming or invisible or anything that wasn’t that everyone was staring at you in silence like they didn’t know how to speak anymore. 

The first one to speak was Clint, “Finally! Sam can serve us some pancakes!” So that was what Sam meant by flipping. With Clint’s words, the whole kitchen seemed to unfreeze and people hopped off the counters and sat at the table. 

“I made pancakes!” Sam said cheerfully, topping everyone’s plates with 3 pancakes. 

“Yeah, Sam, I’m so proud you didn’t burn the place down.” someone said. 

“Hey! These are actually good!” Clint said, shoveling another massive bite into his mouth. 

“No shit! I have had lots of time to perfect my pancake making skills.” Sam bit back. 

“So, how are you doing, Y/N?” Steve asked, taking a prim bite of his pancakes. 

You nodded slowly, “I’m surviving. A shower helped.” 

Nat, who was sitting next to you, placed her hand over yours, reminding you of the girl code you had established so long ago. Your stomach grumbled like a killer whale’s mating call, that is to say, it was very loud. 

So you started eating your pancakes and listening to the team. You didn’t feel like talking really, just listening. Pietro was too busy speed eating to do any talking and across the table, Clint and Bucky were trying to make ridiculous topping combinations and get Steve to gag. Blueberry syrup and applesauce. Pumpkin and matcha powder. Freeze dried strawberries, pop rocks, and melted ice cream. But Steve didn’t falter. 

Tony and Sam were perched on the counters, talking about something in hushed tones. Maybe it was just anxiety talking, but you could’ve sworn they were talking about you.

“After you’re done, we’re training,” Natasha said after you had finished off your second pancake. You didn’t usually train with the team, because you were merely a tactician, who stayed away from danger and told the team the best moves to take. 

“Training for what?” You had a decent idea, but asking questions never hurt anyone, especially harmless ones like that. 

“Self defense,” she said simply and before you could press for details, she was walking away. 

“Self defense,” you muttered, taking another bite. The table was now mostly empty, the only two left were Sam and Tony, still leaning against the counter. 

“Sooooooooo, Y/N,” Tony began, “What’s the plan for today?” 

“Eat these pancakes. Train with Nat. Hopefully, a nap later,” you replied, your answers clipped to try and stifle the awkwardness. 

“Sounds fulfilling.” 

“That’s not a word in your typical vocabulary.” you quipped, twirling the fork absently through your fingers. 

“Want some more pancakes?” Sam blurted out, rushing to you with another plate. 

“No, thanks. I have work to do with Nat.” You handed Sam your plate and walked out. 

—

It was 20 minutes before you made it down to the training room, where Nat was busy sparring with Bucky. Wanda was stretching or doing yoga, or something. Pietro was running. Steve was punching on a punching bag angrily. 

You cleared your throat and all at once all the activity ceased. You crossed your arms and tried to look badass, but it seemed to look a little like a little kid crossing their arms indignantly.  

“Let’s get started,” Nat said, pulling off the badass look with less juvenile-ness.  “Treadmill.”

So you took the treadmill nearest to you and started running, surprising you with how good it felt to move. 

After 20 minutes of running, you felt a little better, sweaty, and definitely in a more stable mental state. 

“Do you know how to throw a punch?” was Nat’s first question. 

“Yes, actually,” you replied, hoping to surprise her, but she just cocked an eyebrow and beckoned for you to demonstrate. 

So you punched. Thumb out, unlocked elbows, fast and clean. 

Bucky whistled, clearly impressed. “Ooh, hoo, tacty! You can throw a punch.” 

“Good,” Nat nodded approvingly, “Now for blocking.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she threw a left jab, which you easily ducked. Right jab met the same fate, with Nat’s wrist caught in your grip. You smiled, challenging her for more. 

“Okay, okay, okay!” Nat said, wriggling her arm out of your grip. “Let’s do this. And I won’t go easy on you this time.” 

You rolled your eyes and stood in position. 

“I’ll be the ref,” Bucky said. “DOn’t kill each other, don’t break any bones, mercy ends the fight and don’t forget I am stronger than both of you and have no problem beating up rule breakers. Let’s do this. Go!” 

You’d been watching Nat for a long time, it was kind of your job as tactician. So you knew her first punch would be a left hook. You ducked under her fist as it swung towards your face. The second punch was a combo: right hook, left uppercut, double right jab. Each of which you dodged and managed to throw in a beginner’s punch to her shoulder.  

The secret to fighting, you’d learned early on, was to know your opponent better than you know yourself. That hadn’t worked so well for you two nights ago, however, so you wanted some redemption. You sent a kickaround to the back of her knee and sent her toppling. But she was up in a second and another punch was thrown. She was angry. But anger makes you slow and one punch, two punches, sent her nose into full waterfall mode. A kick was next, sending her backward and blood splattering on the mat. 

In a flash you were over her, your eyes flaming and your muscles uncontrollable. “Let’s finish this, “ you snarled. Your brain was horrified by this, but it had no control anymore. It was almost like something else was taking over and kicking your normal brain out. 

“Y/N!” Bucky yelled, pulling you back from Nat. Her blood was on your hands and suddenly you were back. Waking up, alone, afraid and so impossibly shattered. 

You were sorry. Blood always means you’ve gone too far. 

[writemarvelousthings]

The Language Of Love

PAIRING- Steve Rogers x Reader 

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

WARNINGS: Smut, slight angst and a whole lot of fluff! 

Well well well, look who’s posted a stand-alone fic for the first time in MONTHS! This idea sprouted from that glorious line in Winter Soldier, this fic wouldn't exist without @bucky-plums-barnes who not only helped me with the French translations but also betaed for me and honestly, she’s just the best person in the world! Thank you so much for helping baby!

 GIF NOT MINE made by the amazing Gen!

The nervous energy flowing through your body hadn’t gone away, not since he had left. All day you had occupied yourself in cleaning your modest apartment. He had promised he’d call as soon as it was safe, he had said so between soft farewell kisses. The sudden shrill ring of your mobile made you lunge across the living room, fumbling with the device in your hand you answer it with a breathless gasp of his name.

“Steve?”  

“It’s me baby”

You feel the woosh of air expelling from your lungs as your knees buckle from under you dropping down to the couch you place your hand on your chest, calming your racing heart. He’s alive.

“Oh thank god” you mumble, leaning back into the soft pillows you feel the hot sting of tears fill your eyes.

“I’m sorry… things got a bit out of hand..” you can picture him, head in his hands as the guilt coursing through his veins at the thought of not contacting you.

“It’s been two days” you force the choked sob back down, normally Steve was good at letting you know he was safe. You usually got a text or a quick call to calm your worries, but this time it had been radio silence.

“I know, baby I know. But I’m okay.. We’re all okay” you felt yourself relax more at the thought of your friends not coming to any harm. Pulling yourself together you tuck your legs underneath you.

“So.. how’s Paris?” you can almost hear him smile down the phone, the sound of a soft rustle tells you he’s laying back in bed.

“A little different from my day. If I hadn’t been interrogating the suspect all day I might have even taken some photos for you”  your brow furrowed slightly.

“Interrogate, isn’t that Nat’s forte?” you doubted the multilingual ex-assassin was really that rusty with her French.  

“It is, but she has a past with the target and would be too easily recognised. Buck’s French is good but mine’s a bit better”

“Wait.. you can speak french?” your relationship with Steve was by no means in the early stages, to hear your boyfriend could speak another language other than English was a slight shock. The deep chuckle from him makes your heart pang with yearning.

“Yeah, you pick up a few things during wartime” you smile to yourself, your fingers picking at the couch cushions absentmindedly.

“Well, that’s definitely something you can do more of around here”  

“Tu me manques tellement” I miss you so much. You felt yourself giggling at the foreign words flowing from Steve with such ease.  

“And what exactly does that mean?”

“I just told you how much I miss you” you can hear the emotion in his voice, it makes the lump in your throat grow bigger as you wipe away a stray tear rolling down your cheek.

“I miss you too Steve”

He arrived back home three days later, a few minor bumps and bruises but nothing too serious. It was somewhere between three and four am when you felt his strong arm wrapping around your waist and a small kiss to the back of your neck.

“It’s just me (Y/N), go back to sleep” you didn’t need anymore encouragement as the next time you woke up was on your own accord. It wasn’t often that you woke up before Steve, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wake him just yet.

His blonde hair was ruffled, sticking up at all angles from a rough night’s sleep. His perfectly pink lips parted slightly as he snored softly. His face and torso were littered with tiny cuts and bruises on his usually unblemished skin. The bruising was only small, by the end of the day he will look like he didn’t just spend the better half of a week bringing down a small hidden branch of Hydra in Paris. Pressing a small kiss to his jaw you gently remove yourself from his grip, pulling the covers over him more as you let your boyfriend sleep.

Humming to yourself quietly you start by making a fresh pot of coffee, knowing Steve will get through at least a cup or maybe two this morning. Once you're confident the coffee pot is brewing you start busying yourself with making breakfast. Gathering all the ingredients you’ll need you fall into a steady rhythm, if it wasn’t for your training and advanced senses you would have missed the soft creak of floorboards over the sizzling of the bacon. You feel him press up against your back, large hands splayed over your hips as his mouth travels down your shoulder sleepily. The soft scratch of stubble tickles your skin as you shy away from him giggling slightly.

“Good morning to you too” Steve hums in reply, his nose trailing along your jawline. You ache to push him back into bed, to make up for the lost intimate time the two of you have both craved. But you had been living with the super soldier for long enough to know that he would be longing for food just that little bit more.

“Did you not want to stay in bed longer?” Another soft grunt in reply, he reaches up to open the cupboard over your head. He rubs himself subconsciously against you and you feel that part of him that your brain growls for. Placing a kiss to your temple, his large warm hand pressing against your lower belly pressing you closer to him as he glances at the clock on the oven.

“Putain, c'est tôt” fuck, its early. You do a double take looking up at Steve. It’s clear in his exhausted state his brain has not made the connection yet.

“Want to try that again for me in English?” you watched as he realises what he said. The soft blush across his cheeks spreads down his neck as he steps back leaning against the counter, rubbing the remains of sleep for his eyes.

“Um.. I just..well I said a word my Ma would have clipped me for and it’s too early” you giggle turning the pan off, placing the bacon on the kitchen paper covered plate. Turning you wrap your arms around Steve’s neck, kissing him soundly on the lips.

“Says the man who actively gets up at the crack of dawn for a run. I know I said you can speak French around me more. But maybe we can start in the beginners class first?” moving up onto your tiptoes you place a soft kiss on his cheek as he nods bashfully.

“Good, now do me a favour..” you squeak slightly as Steve pulls you closer, his lips sealing yours. Melting into his touch for a moment you allow yourself to be consumed by him as the morning light cascades around you.

You were so focused on Nat’s retelling of the mission you almost missed the way Steve’s voice lowered as he leaned towards Bucky. You could tell by the way the brunette’s body language changed and how he too shuffled closer towards your boyfriend he was confused by the sudden language shift.

“If it wasn’t for Steve being able to suave his way into the target's inner circle the whole mission would have been compromised” Sam laughed at Nat’s words loudly.

“Steve? The guy who took six months to ask out the girl of his dreams?” you felt your face heat up at his comment, taking a sip of your coffee you slid off the bar stool to the dismayed groans of your friends.

“Aw come on (Y/N) I haven’t even gotten to the good parts yet” Nat grinned wolfishly, rolling your eyes you cradle your cup in your hands.

“And I’m sure you’ll fill me all in later when there isn’t a running commentary” Sam feigned a mock look of hurt as you turned on your heel towards the two whispering men.

“Tout doit être parfait, elle le mérite Buck” everything has to be perfect, she deserves it Buck. Steve gestured slightly manically with his hands.

“Eh bien, si tu ne ferme pas ta bouche, elle va se méfier” well, if you don’t shut your mouth she’s going to figure it out. Bucky replied in an equally hushed tone, as if to warn Steve.

“I hope whatever you're talking about isn’t incriminating? I think we’ve had enough of that around here” you sit next to Steve, curving your body into his as he wraps his arm around your waist, kissing you softly.

“What makes you think we’re talking about anything incriminating?” Bucky smirked leaning back in the armchair, his eyes flick to Steve’s for a moment then rest back to you.

“Well the fact that the government haven’t been on great terms with us. Why the suspicious sudden change of language James?” You raise an eyebrow as Steve chuckles into your hair watching his best friend squirm under your gaze for a moment.

“Give us some credit, doll” Steve squeezed his hand on your hip.

“I give you all the credit in the world, Captain” you purr at him, ignoring the slightly disgusted grunt from Bucky as he made a quick retreat back to the others.

“Can I get some of the credit later tonight?” you giggle at the boyish smirk that greeted Steve’s face as his fingers trace patterns into your side.

“I think an exception can be made” you lean in again to press your lips against his, feeling his other hand gently run up your thigh as you both ignore the wolf whistles sounding from behind you.

It was two weeks later when you walked in on Steve cleaning up the kitchen, the soft crooning of the record player filled your apartment as you gently placed your shopping on the floor of the living room. Padding over to Steve you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your forehead into the centre of his shoulder blades. He hums in response, already aware of your presence the moment you stepped into your apartment.

“Good day sweetheart?” he questions, one of his hands gently caressing your arms as he finished preparing your dinner. It turns out Steve was a pretty decent cook and more often than not would volunteer to whip up someone most evenings. You hummed in reply as the record came to a slow end, your ears picking up on the medley of French songs you had bought Steve a few days ago. Smiling into the soft material of his shirt you stepped back allowing him to turn around and face you.

“Natasha can be ruthless, but she knows a good bargain when she sees one” you nodded to the small pile of shopping bags sat discarded at the entrance of your apartment. Steve chuckles kissing the top of your head as the song changed, the familiar trumpet notes made you smile before the hauntingly beautiful sounds of the singer blared around you.

“I’ve never heard this version before” you muse as La Vie En Rose flooded the acoustics of the kitchen.

“Well, then Ma’am” Steve grinned bowing lowly holding out his hand.

“It would be my honour to join you in a dance” giggling you slip your smaller hand into his large warm one. Curling your arm around his shoulder he slides his own around your waist pulling you close against his chest.

“Quand il me prend dans ses bras..Il me parle tout bas..Je vois la vie en rose...”

His voice wasn’t the best, and he sang so low and quietly you almost missed it. But you couldn’t help the large grin spread across your lips as he swayed the both of you in your modest kitchen. Resting your cheek against his firm peck you sighed contently as you felt Steve’s arms encase you more, holding you as close as he could. Almost as if he was protecting you from the world and all the dangers that came with it. You never liked to predict what your future would hold but never did you expect to lead the life you did now, fighting off monsters and dancing with a man so out of time he had a museum exhibit dedicated in his honour. But here you were, and you wouldn’t change your life for a single moment.

“I think I lo-“  the quiet murmur of his voice vibrated your cheek causing you to crane your neck up to look at him.

A smell permeated through the room and your eyes widen in realisation. “I think dinner is burning!”

“Merde” Shit

You both tumbled through the bedroom door, a display of limbs and flying clothes as you blindly but surely stumbled towards the bed. Steve was panting, eyes dilated roaming your form as the blue dress slipped of your body. His colour the voice in his mind rumbled with pleasure, everything you did tonight was for Steve’s benefit. Styling your hair so you neck was visible to him, the soft patch of skin he liked to kiss was on show taunting him throughout the borning state dinner the Avengers were summoned to. The blue dress formed to your shape perfectly, showing off just the right amount to curves to keep Steve on edge and hover around you like a bee over nectar. You shoved the dinner jacket off Steve’s broad shoulders, your fingers grasping at the soft shirt pulling him into a searing kiss. Hand’s roamed over clothed skin, until you were both on the bed clad in just underwear, rolling his hips you gasped as his hard erection grind up against your black silk panties.

“Steve” your voice quivered in arousal as his lips attacked your neck, the smooth skin bruising into a small purple bite under is ministrations.

“Shh, mon amour”  my love. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you let out an embarrassing poronographic moan. Steve pulled back, dancing between amusement and arousal as he looked at your reaction to his words.

“Mmm, you like that sweetheart?” his nose bumped against yours as you rolled your hips, your core begging for any type of attention.

“You know I do” you gasped, fingers ranking through the blonde tresses. You felt his fingers make quick work of your bra, pulling it away from your body as his warm mouth attached to your nipple. His tongue lapping and sucking, his hand coming to cup your other one. You feel yourself melt into the mattress at the sensation.

“Mmm, ma belle, tu es tellement bon pour moi”  mmm, my beautiful, you are so good for me. Although you couldn't understand the words rolling from his lips you could work out the meaning as he descended lower on your body, placing kisses over your stomach as he hooked the side of your panties ripping them down your legs.

“Tellement jolie” So pretty. His lips kissed your lower belly, looking up at you through thick eyelashes before he flicked his tongue out at your clit and you were moaning again.

“Oh.. Steve!” your back arched up from the bed, hands shooting down to grasp at his hair again. Anchoring you to him as he lapped you up in ernest. He never lets up, determined to pull your first orgasm of the night from his mouth. You feel the familiar tingle, that sweet indicator that your orgasm was on its way.

“That’s it baby, give it to me” Steve shifted up slightly, sliding two fingers into your tight hole as he sucked your clit into his mouth. The combination of his deep, husky voice as his ministrations had you falling over the edge. Screaming out his name your body jerked and thrashed in pleasure as you came hard.

“That’s it, that’s my girl” you gasped for air as Steve travelled back up your body, you reached out for him. Pulling him down into a fiercely deep kiss, he grinded down against you again. Straining in his boxers you made quick work to shove them down over his thighs and legs. Grasping his cock, it was heavy and thick in your hand. Slowly pumping it as you ran your tongue over his plump bottom lip he grunted lowly spiking another wave of arousal from you.

“Sweetheart, as much as I love where this is going…” he trailed off, not needing to finish as you instinctively lay back. He was on top of you in a second, your cum from earlier making it easy for him to push inside of you.

“Oh fuck” you moaned, you would never get over this. The feeling of being indescribably full and stretched.

“Ohhhh god, so tight baby. So warm and wet” Steve grunted into your neck as he started to piston his hips, slamming into you over and over that you had no choice to hold on for dear life.

“Steve.. I.. oh.. Fuck so good” you barely whimper as you nails dig into his shoulders.

“That’s it baby, I got you. Montre-moi combien tu l'aimes ça” show me how much you love it. You wailed softly, your bodies colliding together over and over. You knew every inch of him, every dip and rivet of his chiseled body. Steve was home for you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. The feeling of his lips kissing and suckling at the sweet spot on your neck was your down fall, he was as familiar with your body that you were with his. You knew that the squeezing of your thighs around his waist and the small tug of his hair was all that was needed before he bellowed his release. Spilling into you with a final snap of his hips as your body snapped up to press against his, panting and gasping you slowly came back down to earth. Still caged between Steve and the mattress his face pressing firmly against your neck, a light sheen of sweat covering his body.

“That was…” Steve gasped leaning up to looks down at you, unable to stop the blissful smile on your face you reached a shaky hand up to brush away the strands of light blonde hair away from his face.

“I know..”

The nervous energy flowing through your body hadn’t gone away, not since he had left. Second time this month you thought as you started to collect your things from the living room, settling down for the night. When your phone rang, you stared at it numbly before your body caught up with your mind.

“Steve?” you whispered, scared that one loud noise and this would all be a dream.

“It’s me, sweetheart” his voice was hushed, fear flowed through you for a moment before common sense kicked in. He was probably bunking with Sam.

“Are you okay?” gnawing at your bottom lip, you clung to the oversized jumper in your hands. There was a slight pause on the other line, your chest felt like it would burst at any moment.

“Yeah, I’m okay” you rubbed your temple, the beginnings of a tension headache were starting to brew. There was a muted thud beyond the front door but wasn’t unusual for your neighbours to be walking passed at this time of night.

“I miss you” Steve’s soft voice was almost lost in the slight commotion from outside, you frown looking at the door before turning your attention back to your boyfriend on the phone.

“I miss you too, when do you think you’ll be home?”  there was a soft click of the door unlocking and a moment later the one person you wanted to see more than anyone walked through the door. A small sly smile on his lips as he dropped his phone from his ear.

“Sooner than you think” it took you less than three seconds to launch yourself at him, your phone and jumper long discarded on the couch.

“You’re here” you murmur into his chest, breathing in the familiar smell of his collonge you felt the familiar strong arms encase you holding you close, keeping you safe.

“Je suis la, mon amour” I’m here my love.

You smile at the familiar yet unfamiliar words, craning your neck up to look at him you couldn't think of a more perfect time to confess what you had been feeling for a long time.

“Je t’aime tellement, Steve” I love you so much. You watched the multiple expressions pass over Steve's face before he scooped you up in his arms. You squeal, instantly wrapping your arms around his narrow waist. You gripped his shoulder gigging like a love-struck fool as Steve peppered soft kisses all over your face.

“Where did you learn to say that?” you laughed at the wide smile on his face as you pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Well, I learned a lot by osmosis”  your smiled matched Steve’s as he let out the loud belly laugh, his hands squeezing your hips as he sat down gently on the couch, keeping you on his lap.

“I guess I better call Bucky and tell him to put Stark’s 1943 Moët back in its case”

“You were going to steal Tony’s most expensive champagne for me?” you arch your brow wondering just how much your boyfriend had planned for you. Steve shrugged a little. 

“I just wanted the first time I told you I loved you to be special”

You blushed a little at his words before leaning up and kissing him softly on his lips. “I love you” you murmur, needing to say those three little words again.

“I love you too, mon chérie” my darling. Steve replies and running your hands through his blonde tresses you knew you would never love any man as much as you loved Steven Grant Rogers.

[myinconnelly1]

Near Me Working the Case

Masterlist

A/N: You guys are gonna hate me.  I might even be lynched.  

Warnings: Canon violence/gore

Word Count: 1,491

Previous

It was like she had been slapped across the face.

“Gareth is the incubus.” She wouldn’t even look at him. It was like she had bared everything to him and she didn’t want to see his expression. He reached up to caress her cheek but she pushed him away.   “I’m really tired and a little hungry. I think I’m gonna sleep. Then maybe we can get something to eat and figure out what to do next?” She wanted to be hopeful, but the pain that she carried made her shoulders droop and she definitely looked tired.

“Okay. That’s probably a good idea.” Dean let his arm fall to his side dejectedly.  

He should have known that her past would come up again. He just didn’t think he would be put in the middle of it. But if Andie was willing to let him help her, then they were making good strides in the trust department. She left the bathroom and walked back to Dean’s room, closing the door behind her.  

Dean walked around the bunker looking for Sam, to see what he had managed to put together. The way that Andie reacted any time her past came up made it evident to Dean that the more information they had to start with, the better this whole case was gonna go. Although, he was certain that if she found out Sam was researching her, she would be pretty upset. He found Sam huddled in front of his laptop with a pair of headphones on so that he couldn’t hear anything. He was listening to his music so loudly that Dean could actually hear it as he approached Sam.  

“Hey, man.” Dean tapped him on the shoulder, and Sam nearly dropped his computer.

“Dude, you scared me,” Sam said as he took out his headphones. “Is Andie okay? Are you okay?” He finished when he got a good look at the worn-out expression on Dean’s face.

“Yea, she’s better now. Sleeping, then we’re gonna eat and discuss this whole mess.”

“Well while you were uh, playing doctor, I did some digging into Andie’s past. I found a news clipping from Andie’s home town, by the way, did you know her name was Andrea. Anyway, the article was from right after Andie was committed. Apparently, she was engaged to this guy…”

“Yeah, um Gareth,” Dean interjected snapping his fingers.

“Right, so they were the town couple, everyone loved them and thought they were a great couple. They were engaged to be married about two months after Andie was baker-acted.” Sam said.

“So a bit of a shotgun wedding?” Dean confirmed.

“Right, so I guess everyone was shocked and kinda believed that Andie had totally snapped when she stabbed herself with, get this, a fire iron.”

“I guess even ‘new hunter Andie’ knew what she was doing and could kick-ass,” Dean said appreciatively look back down the hallway where Andie was sleeping.

“Yeah, I guess that is how she got that scar on her stomach. She must have tried to cut her insides out when she realized she was having a demon baby.”

“Yep and the cops and psychs will send you right to a white room at the mention of demons,” Dean said shaking his head. “What about her family. Didn’t they do anything to help her?”

“Well in a manner of speaking. They were the ones who baker-acted her. So technically they saved her life, but they did it for the wrong reasons. Apparently, they like Gareth too. Andie broke out of the institution that she was committed to, and no one from her home ever knew what happened to her.” Sam said sadly.

“Until now.” Dean turned to look at Sam. “Gareth is the person that was keeping her when we found her. I think he is trying to screw with her after what happened. She’s been able to stay off his radar until recently, but when she figured out what was going on, she called us for help.” Dean said crossing his arms.

“I don’t think so, Dean. Remember her message,” Sam blushed thinking about the erotic sound of her voice when she had tried to call them. “I think she had already been captured and the call might have been some kind of trap.”

“Well, it was a pretty crappy trap. We just walked in and took her. What was the point.” Dean said looking quizzical.

“I’m not sure.”

“He was looking for you.” Andie’s voice said from the hallway behind them.

“What?” Dean asked as he turned around. He saw her and his jaw hit the floor. She was wearing one of his black AC/DC and nothing else. The shirt was tight around her breasts and the hem clung to her mid-thigh.

“I said he was looking for your guys. He wanted to know who you were. He’s kind of a jealous SOB. I just hope that when he found out who you were, he left and hid under a rock in hell. Sorry about the shirt, I just don’t have anything else to wear.” It was the first time Dean had ever seen Andie look self-conscious about her appearance, and he thought it was adorable.

“No it’s fine, you wear it as long as you need, we will get you some clothes soon.” Dean took in her look and imagined her being his for a second. “I say we trap this bastard down and kill him.” Andie gave him a small smile.

It took the better part of two months for anything to come back up on Gareth. Andie had taken up long-term residence in the bunker, coming to Dean’s room regularly. The awkwardness between Dean, Andie, and Sam had dissipated as Sam undertook the second challenge and things got worse for him. The group met up with Charlie again, Andie and Charlie hitting it off easily, which made Dean a little nervous.

“Hey, I got a lead on Gareth,” Sam said sleepily from in front of his computer.

“Dude, you gotta relax and rest, you can’t be sitting in front of that thing all the time,” Dean said anxiously. “What’s the lead.”

“I have a street cam that picked him up. He’s not too far away from here and he has a woman with him.” Sam said glancing nervously at Andie. Sam and Dean had discovered that her desire to save girls and other helpless women sprouted from her own experiences and it was what had gotten her into hunting. They also knew there was no way that she wasn’t going to go check it out, with or without them.

“We are going,” Andie stated.

“I’m coming too,” Sam said. “It’s all hands on deck for this case. If there is someone else there, I can get her away from Gareth and the fight.” Dean nodded. He didn’t want Sam there but knew he was right.

“Alright, let’s get the iron and salt, and hit the road.” They split up and grabbed their weapons and bags, then went to the bunker garage to take the Impala to where Gareth was last seen. They pulled into a diner in town where the car that Gareth had been driving was parked.

“There are gonna be a ton of people here,” Sam said looking at all the cars in the parking lot.

“One thing at a time, Sammy,” Dean said they got out the car and went inside. The place was almost completely empty. A woman sat tied to a chair in the center of the room with all of the tables around her. She whimpered as the hand of an unusually tall man gripped her shoulder tightly. The man had an air of confidence that fell off of him in waves. His hair was nicely combed, and if the group didn’t recognize him as Gareth, they might have mistaken him for a charismatic upstanding citizen.

“Let her go, Gareth.” Andie snarled as she stared at him.

“I might. When I’m done with her, Andrea,” Andie flinched as he said her name, looking visibly sickened. “She’s just a prop. I knew you would come to find her. Although I didn’t expect that you would find a worthless piece of tail to tote along with you.” He chuckled as he looked at Dean.

“Enough talking you Son of a Bitch!” Andie screamed at him.

“Fine, your choice.” Gareth was enveloped in a cloud of black fog and disappeared.  

Sam acted immediately throwing himself gracelessly over the tables to start untying the woman in the chair. Dean and Andie made slow circles in the opposite direction, trying to find where Gareth would reappear. When they completed the circuit and were facing each other again, Andie cried out, and Dean looked down. Gareth was standing behind Andie with his hand shoved through her lower half. She collapsed onto Dean as Gareth removed his hand and reappeared on the other side of the room.

Next

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