#so besides for my normal plans imploding. there's that

[lordsardine]

.

[saltcxrcle]

all alone? ── . ✶ ruby

summary: ruby loves popping in and bothering you at the most inconvenient times

pairings: bi! ruby 2.0 x bi! reader, ruby x gn afab! reader, mentions of samruby, implied future sam x reader warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, no use of 'y/n', fem pronouns are used, mentions of blood, smut with very little plot, masturbation, use of vibrators, voyeurism (slightly dub-con), fingering, squirting, scissoring, some degradation mixed with praise, some aftercare, in the same universe as motel chats but can be read as a standalone, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own word count: 5.7k a/n: ofc my longest fic for spn had to be smut for ruby LMAO. anyways im a freak for ruby and this may or may not be a prelude to something else i plan to write (hint its mentioned in the fic). also i would add more warnings to this fic but i don't want to spoil anything :p anyways enjoy this you freaks <3 ruby masterlist

SOMETIMES, YOU WONDERED why you were even friends with the Winchesters. You were currently standing in the middle of a living room in this seemingly normal suburban house, covered in the blood and guts of the witch that the three of you just killed.

Well, it's more like she spontaneously combusted in front of you, and conveniently, Sam and Dean weren’t in the splash zone of her body imploding, so they were spared from being sprayed by her insides. 

There wasn’t any inch of you that wasn’t covered in blood. You cried internally about the chunks of flesh in your hair that you would have to wash out with the weak water pressure of the motel shower later. You were just somewhat glad that you weren’t sharing a room with the boys because you would use up all the hot water without hesitation. 

You looked at Sam and Dean—the latter looking like he wanted to laugh at the sight of you while the former had a sympathetic smile on his face at your current state. 

You heard Dean trying to stifle a snicker before he saw your fierce glare on him, pretending to clear his throat. 

“This funny to you Winchester?” You asked him with a raised brow, a plan formulating in your head as you slowly step toward the older Winchester. 

He shook his head, trying to keep a serious face on. “Nope, not at all.” Dean hadn’t registered that you were walking toward him, but Sam, being observant, figured out what you were going to do and took a step back from beside his brother. 

You sent him a smile full of mischief. “Then you won’t mind if I do this.” You quickly darted toward him and hugged him tight. 

Dean didn’t have enough time to move, so his shirt and flannel were getting covered in the witch's blood, making him groan your name out. Sam started to laugh at his brother’s misfortune, and Dean managed to peel you off after squirming in your grip, and it loosened after giggling at the sound of his whining. 

Dean registered that Sam was laughing at him and turned to him, a sly smile on his face. “Hey Sammy, can you come here for a second?” 

“I’m good right here actually.” Sam was by the front door, looking ready to run out of the house, not trusting the smile on his brother’s face. 

“Awe come on! Your brother just wants a hug.” Just as Dean finished his sentence, he rushed toward Sam. 

Sam acted quickly and ran out of the house, Dean’s boisterous laugh filling the air as he chased after his brother. You couldn’t help but smile at the sound. It had been a while since you heard him laugh so freely—the threat of Lilith and the angels had been hanging over the three of you for a while, so it was good to hear the brothers mess around a little and pretend that they didn’t shoulder the weight of the world on their backs. 

You looked around the trashed living room, the results of the chaos that occurred when trying to kill the witch. You sighed, your muscles ached, and you could feel the blood drying on your clothes and skin. You glanced around the living room one last time before heading out of the house and smiled when you saw that Dean managed to catch Sam in an embrace—Dean had managed to wrangle Sam’s tall frame into a headlock. 

You shook your head as you chuckled to yourself at the scene in front of you. You looked around the quiet and empty neighborhood, reminding you exactly where you were. 

You whistled sharply. The high-pitched sound caught the boys’ attention–their heads snapping in your direction.

“We should probably get going, the fight wasn’t exactly quiet.” You told them as  Dean let go of Sam, and he straightened up back to his full height.

They both nodded and followed you towards where the Impala was parked on the curb in front of the witch’s house. 

“Hey, could you try not to get blood on the seats?” 

“Shut up Dean.” 

Sam let out a little laugh at your and Dean’s exchange before the three of you piled into the car and sped away from suburbia and towards the motel you guys were staying in. You were pretty uncomfortable the entire twenty minutes you were in the car; the drying blood on your skin wasn’t a pleasant sensation. So when you arrived at the motel, Dean had barely parked the car when you bolted from the vehicle and to your room, eager to wash the blood and guts of the dead witch off of you. 

After you were done showering and getting dressed, Dean knocked on your door, asking if you were coming with him and Sam to the bar he saw driving in. 

You shook your head. “I’m good. Gonna have an early night in.” 

Dean raised an eyebrow at you before nodding. “See you in the morning then.” 

“See you in the morning.” You confirmed before the two of you traded smiles, and you closed the door with a soft click. 

You let out a small sigh of relief. As much as you loved the boys, you really needed time to yourself. Being confined into a singular room with them and without much privacy led you to feel pent up and sexually frustrated being around two conventionally attractive men at all times.

You weren’t blind to the fact that the Winchesters attracted women (and the occasional man) like moths to a flame. You would have definitely slept with either of them at this point in your years of friendship if you didn’t know any better—which you did. 

Which is why you wanted a room for yourself. You remembered the weird looks they shot you when you came back with two room keys instead of one. You explained that you wanted your own room for once and that the money you used wasn’t even yours, so you might as well use it before ditching it for another card. 

You made your way over to your bag, having left it out on one of the beds in your room, and grabbed the small drawstring bag that held your trusty vibrator and spare batteries. You tossed the small bag on top of the comforter before placing your duffle on the ground and turning off one of the two lamps that were illuminating the room.

You climbed into bed, getting underneath the duvet and thin sheet that the bed was draped in, grabbed the vibrator out of the bag it was in, and set it beside you.

You laid back and closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the mattress. Your hands that were lying idle next to you began to wander. Your fingertips skimmed across your bare thighs, slowly trailing up your leg, bypassing the thin shorts you were wearing and up to the hem of your oversized shirt. 

You let out a soft, almost shuddering breath as your hands made their way up your shirt and reached your bare breasts. Your eyes closed at the sensation of your hands caressing and squeezing at the flesh.

You pinched at your nipples, letting a quiet moan escape you at the spark of pleasure that zipped down your spine. Your underwear was slowly dampening with your arousal as you played with your breasts, the tension you were feeling melting away as you let desire overtake your senses.

One of your hands left your breast and made its way back down your body and underneath your underwear. Another moan left your lips as your fingertips brushed against your clit. You let your fingers swipe up the slick that was leaking from your slit and wet your sensitive nub before playing with it, rubbing at it with some pressure as you gripped your breast tightly in the other hand. The coil in your belly slowly grew tighter and faster than you had expected.

God, how long had it been since you were able to have some playtime by yourself? You couldn’t even answer your own question as lust clouded any other thought in your brain.

Harsh breaths were accompanied by low moans that escaped you as you rubbed at your clit and played with your nipple, but you didn’t want to finish so early, wanting to wring as much pleasure as you could before you went back to sharing a room with the Winchesters. So you stopped, you let go of your boob, and slowly retracted your hand from underneath your underwear.

You felt hot with the layers on you but didn’t mind it. You quickly grabbed the portable wand vibrator from beside you before taking off your shorts from underneath the covers—getting lost in the sheets somewhere.

You shifted further down on the bed, your head now resting fully on the pillows as you brought the vibrator down to your now slightly swollen clit. A rush of anticipation coursed through you as the soft silicone was rubbing against you. You rubbed the wand head through your slick before letting it rest on your clit and turning it on.

A soft moan left you as the wand vibrated on the lowest setting. You bit your bottom lip at the feeling, a sigh leaving you as you leaned into the sensations that the vibrator sent through your weeping cunt. You were so wound up that you didn’t really need to think about anything to try and get off, but it didn’t mean that your mind wasn’t going to conjure anything up.

You thought back on a wet dream that you had of Sam a while back. It was a little mortifying that you had it while sharing a bed with him (it may have caused you not to look him in the eyes for two days)—but you weren’t in bed with him now. Your lust-riddled brain didn’t care enough about your embarrassment of thinking about it at this very moment.

You don’t remember how the dream started, but what you did was fuel your craving and satiate your lust-driven hunger as you turned the vibration up on the wand.

Sam’s hands felt like they were everywhere as you felt his teeth nipping at the soft skin of your neck—driving into you with slow but measured thrusts, hitting your g-spot with precision.

"That feel good, baby? Like it when I stuff my big cock into your tight cunt?” Sam’s voice was dark, almost mocking you as the slapping of skin filled the air along with your whines.

Louder moans left your mouth as the vibrations surged through you, amplifying the pleasure that was flooding your veins. You could feel your body flushing with heat as you slowly began the descent into your orgasm.

“You feel so good around me. Gonna fill you up so much.” Sam groaned into your ear before it turned into a grunt, feeling you squeeze around him tightly.

Sam chuckled. “You want me to fill you up with my cum huh?”

You moaned in response, gripping his shoulders tight as he rammed into you. But a whine erupted from your chest when he halted in his thrusts.

He wrapped his free hand around your throat, your eyes flying open at the feeling, meeting his fiery gaze— a roguish smirk on his face.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, please Sam fill me up. I want it so bad.”

“Good girl.” Sam said before pulling you into a rough kiss and resuming his thrusting, going harder and faster than before—making a choked squeal escape your lips at how rough he was being, but you didn’t mind it for a second.

The coil in you was about to snap. You just needed a little more—

“Hmm, didn’t expect this when I decided to drop by.”

The sudden (and unwanted) voice in your room made you halt in your ministrations. Your eyes flew open as you dropped the wand in between your legs. You shot up from your position on the bed to see Ruby standing by the edge of the bed you were in with a sly smirk on her face—her arms crossed as her dark brown eyes looked over your hot and bothered figure.

A scowl made its way onto your lips. “What the fuck Ruby! Why are you here?”

The demon shrugged. “Well I was here to tell you some info I got on Lilith, but I see interrupted something.”

“You think?” You couldn’t help but grumble. The scowl was still ever-present on your face and deepened further at her words. “Couldn’t you have told Sam instead of ambushing me in my room? Besides, I thought he was your favorite out of the three of us.”

Ruby’s eyes glinted with amusement as her head tilted slightly. “I don’t have favorites, but I will say you climbed up the list from the other time I saw you.”

You knew exactly what she was referring to and narrowed your eyes at her, trying to ignore the fact that she ruined your orgasm and that you were half-naked underneath the blanket.

“Great! I’m so honored that I’ve climbed the ranks.” You snarked as you rolled your eyes. “Sam’s at the bar with Dean, you can tell him there.”

“But I wanted to tell you first.”

“Well, I’m a little busy.”

“Yeah, so busy.” Ruby scoffed at you, uncrossing her arms and settling one of her hands on her hip. “Getting off is a pathetic excuse to try and avoid me.”

Your jaw clenched. “Just get to the point Ruby so we can go our separate ways.”

Ruby pursed her lips before a sly smile grew on her face. “I tell you what I know if you tell me what you were thinking about when you were playing with yourself.”

“What the fuck? No! What is wrong with you?” You looked at her aghast.

Ruby just chuckled at your expression before taking off her leather jacket and starting to crawl up the bed. You couldn’t help but sit up as she slowly made her way to you.

“Come on, its a fair trade don’t you think?” She was on her knees by your side.

“I think our definitions of fair are very different. Besides, you came here to tell me something, not the other way around.”

Ruby rolled her eyes at you as she leaned closer to you. “You’re a real stickler for semantics.”

“Yeah, and you’re a real pain in my ass.”

Ruby chuckled again and leaned even closer to you, her breath fanning over your lips. “You sure know how to sweet talk a girl.”

“It’s not sweet talking when you’re a demon.”

“Really? Not sweet talking? Then why aren’t you leaning away from me?”

You swallowed thickly. You honestly don’t know why you weren’t revolted by the close proximity of the demon in front of you.

Maybe it was the familiar scent of mint, leather, and tequila that brought you back to the night when the two of you slept with each other for the first time, which made you not recoil from Ruby. Or maybe it was because you were still horny, and you had a feeling that Ruby wanted a repeat of what happened last time.

A beat of silence settled between the two of you. Ruby’s eyes flickered from your lips back to your eyes. You couldn’t help but do the same thing, focusing on the plushness of her lips. You remember how soft and warm they were against yours. You blinked before meeting her gaze once more.

“You’re so fucking annoying.” You breathed out before reaching up, grabbing Ruby’s neck, and kissing her roughly.

Ruby couldn’t help but smirk against your lips before kissing you back with the same intensity. She pulled away the duvet that was covering your bare legs before shoving you down back on the bed.

You were a bit breathless from the kiss but barely had time to catch your breath before Ruby’s lips descended back on yours again. Her tongue delved into your mouth, familiarizing herself with your taste again as Ruby slotted herself in between your open legs—her jean-clad center brushing against your bare core.

The harsh material of the denim brushing against your clit made you moan into Ruby’s mouth. Her hands made their way up your legs and to the hem of your shirt. Ruby made quick work of your shirt, her lips leaving yours as she aggressively pulled it off of you, leaving you completely bare to her.

Ruby’s eyes zeroed in on your pussy. It was practically glistening underneath the dim lighting of the room. Her lips quirked up into a smirk before leaning down and pressing her lips against your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin—Ruby’s hands caressing your sides and hips before trailing her lips over the smooth skin of your breasts. She bit lightly at the swell of you breast before she slinked down your body, wet kisses following in their wake.

Your breathing became labored as Ruby reached your cunt. Her kisses were light and teasing in between the soft skin of your inner thighs. She kept you distracted with her teasing kisses. Ruby grabbed the vibrator you were using early and turned it back on, the low hum grabbing your attention.

Your eyes fluttered open, and before you could say anything, Ruby put the silicone head against your clit—a low moan replacing any words that would have fallen from your lips.

Ruby pulled away from your thigh, eyes flickering between your face and leaking pussy. She turned it up to medium speed, a louder moan leaving you at the more intense sensation running through you. Your once-ruined orgasm came hurdling back, the coil winding tighter and tighter and threatening to snap.

“You going to tell me about what you were thinking about earlier?.” Ruby hummed out.

“Y-you mean before you so rudely interrupted?” You could barely spit the words out. Pleasure overwhelmed your senses. “N-not going to h-happen.”

Ruby let out a low chuckle, moving the vibrating head from your clit and running in through your wet slit, lubricating it. “Should’ve known you were going to be stubborn about it.” She murmured before ripping the toy away from you completely.

A frustrated groan left you as you squeezed your eyes shut. This was the third time that you were on the cusp of an orgasm, and honestly, you were close to just pushing Ruby away and doing the job yourself. There was no way you were telling her anything about what you were thinking about.

“The sooner you tell me the sooner you can come.” Ruby was rubbing the slightly slick head of the toy in the crease of your hips. She could tell you were wearing down on the idea, so she put the toy back on your clit.

A pleasure gasp left you. “I- fuck. I was thinking about the last time we slept together.” You were not going to tell her the truth if your life depended on it.

Ruby laughed softly. ““Hmm, I’d be flattered if you were telling the truth.” She moved the toy away from you again before moving up your body, stopping when her clothed figure was draped over yours.

“Tell me the truth and I’ll make you come. It’s as simple as that.” Ruby had a saccharine smile as she batted her eyelashes almost coquettishly at you.

Your lips twisted up in a snarl, irritation flooding your features as you stared at Ruby.

“I bet you were thinking about Sam fucking you.” Ruby’s words made your stomach twist.

You cleared your throat roughly.” How did you-”

“Spells come in handy babe.” Ruby winked at you before moving back down in between your legs again.

You vaguely remember Sam mentioning who Ruby was before she became a demon, and you could only imagine what she did to know what you were thinking about. You jumped at the sudden sensation of buzzing again your already abused clit.

“Was Sam eating you out? Or was he fucking you?” You couldn’t help but clench around nothing at her words. You had no idea why this kind of talk was turning you on so much.

Ruby nipped at your thigh. “Answer me.”

You let out a moan at the familiar words. “Shit, h-he was fucking me.”

“Mmm, hard and rough right? That’s how he usually fucks me.” The sudden image of Sam and Ruby fucking increased the pleasure you were feeling. A keening whine erupted from your chest at the feeling of Ruby’s fingers filling you alongside the toy that was pressed hard against your sensitive nub.

“Ooh, you like that? Do you like the thought of me and Sam fucking each other? Oh who am I kidding, I can feel you clench around my fingers like the whore that you are.”

Ruby’s dexterous fingers were able to find your g-spot with ease and hit it with deadly accuracy. You could feel an unfamiliar but not unwelcome pressure building in your lower abdomen. Your moans echoed throughout the room, along with the buzz of the vibrator against your swollen clit.

“So needy, wanting to fuck me and him at the same time. I bet Sam would like the idea of you joining us.” Ruby cooed, but it almost fell deaf on your ears as your orgasm was building and threatening to spiral out of control.

“I can see it now, Sam fucking you from behind as you eat me out. Or you sitting on his face as I ride him. It sounds like a whole lot of fun to me.” A wide grin was on her face as Ruby felt you squeeze her fingers hard as moans tumbled from your lips.

The scenarios that Ruby was describing were vivid in your mind. The pressure in your abdomen burst, and you all but shouted in pleasure, your orgasm blinding any and all of your senses.

Ruby let out a breathy laugh at the sight of you squirting—soaking the toy, her fingers, and your thighs. She kept moving her fingers in and out of you slowly but removed the toy from your clit and turned it off, tossing it on the other side of the bed.

You could faintly feel a dampness between your legs, but you paid no mind to it as you tried to recover from the pleasure overload you just experienced. You’ve never come that hard before, and it took you a bit to try to calm down. You heard rustling coming from Ruby, but you ignored her as you inhaled deeply and exhaled shakily.

By the time you recovered and peeled your eyes open, you were met with the sight of a nude Ruby hovering over you. You took in her vessel’s tanned skin that was dotted with beauty marks, matching the ones on her face.

“Like what you see?” Ruby teased as her lips brushed against yours.

You didn’t bother with replying, not wanting to give her any kind of satisfaction of a response. Instead, you lifted your head up to capture her lips between yours. It was a softer kiss compared to the ones you shared earlier, but it did the job.

Ruby sunk into the kiss as you reached for her waist. One of your hands made its way up her back, scratching it lightly before you grabbed some of the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled at it. She moaned lightly into your mouth as the two of you kissed.

Ruby pulled away from the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip before removing herself entirely from you. She sat up and grabbed your left leg, moving it so your legs were wide open and maneuvered, so she was almost straddling your leg, but you understood her intention immediately.

Before she could place her pussy against yours, you brought up your hand and rubbed at her wet slit. Fuck she was soaked. You immediately inserted two of your fingers into her.

Ruby let out a husky moan at the feeling of your fingers filling her up, and you pumped them in and out of her a couple of times before she swatted at your hand, making you retract your hand from within her.

You let out a small laugh before it turned into a moan as Ruby placed her wet cunt against yours. She let out a satisfied sigh at the feeling of your pussy rubbing against hers. Ruby started a slow grind against you, moans and whines leaving the both of you as the two of you scissored.

“Fuck, babe, you feel so good against me.” Ruby’s voice was thick with pleasure as her hips started to pick up speed. “We need to do this more often.”

You couldn’t answer her but grabbed her hips to help her move against you. You slapped her ass before gripping it tight and trying to create more friction for the two of you. The two of you were uncaring about how loud you guys were as the both of you surrendered to the desire running through your veins.

Although Ruby was feeling her orgasm building, she felt like something was missing. Her eyes went to the toy she just used on you earlier before meeting your eyes. You caught on to what Ruby wanted, so she stopped her movements so you could grab your vibrator.

Once you did, you turned it on—Ruby lifted her hips from yours so you could place the toy in between the two of you before she lowered herself again.

“Fuck!” You and Ruby exclaimed simultaneously. Your moans got even louder with the added addition of the vibrator in between the two of you. You held on to it while your other hand rested on her hips—Ruby’s hands were on your left leg, using it as leverage as her hips moved rapidly.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” You managed to say in between your moans. You could feel the familiar coil winding up in your abdomen.

Ruby nodded. “Fuck, yeah same m’close.” She started to grind harder against you and the toy, sending more heat down your spine, and the tell-tale sign of your orgasm was soon approaching.

“Come with me.” You said as you squeezed her hip hard, your nails biting into her skin. The sharp sting of pain sent a bolt of pleasure down her spine as she nodded.

Ruby’s hips began to stutter and falter as her orgasm hit her, but she was able to keep moving against you, and you soon followed her; your grip on the wand fell. Your and Ruby’s moans filled the motel room as you came together.

Ruby was barely able to lift herself away from your soaked overstimulated pussy. She fell on top of your relaxed leg, pinning it to the bed as you fumbled with the vibrator, just barely mustering up the ability to turn it off.

The room felt warm as labored breaths filled the silence between you and the demon. After Ruby caught her breath, she lifted herself off of your leg, and when she looked back, you were fast asleep. She let out a low chuckle at the sight of you.

Ruby got up from the bed, grabbed your vibrator, and went into the bathroom, cleaning herself quickly and the toy before using a warm, damp washcloth and going back into your room and cleaning you up. You barely stirred as she did, and once she was done, Ruby moved you to the spare bed in your room.

Her stare lingered on your serene face before shaking her head. If Sam’s puppy dog eyes couldn’t make her cold body feel warm then she couldn’t make an exception for his friend. Ruby quickly left your room, trying to drill into her mind the real reason why she was there and “helping out” the Winchesters. But it didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun with you and Sam before everything unfolded.

BONUS!

⤷ Sam’s POV:

Dean had ditched him at the bar, finding someone to go home with the night. He had tossed him the keys and sent him a wink before following the brunette that captured his attention for the night.

Sam shook his head at his brother, but he was glad that he could sleep in a bed tonight and not in the Impala. Soon after Dean left, Sam didn’t feel the need to stay at the bar any longer, so he made his way to the Impala.

Sam secretly wished that you had come with them so he didn’t have to deal with Dean alone, but he understood why you didn’t come after Dean told him when he got back in the room they were sharing before leaving for the bar.

The drive to the motel was pretty short, and Sam was ready to relax and decompress from today’s events. He made his way to his room, glancing at your door briefly. He was debating on knocking on your door but refrained, knowing that you were tired from the day that you had.

Sam unlocked the room, stepped into the dimly lit room, and closed the door behind him. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on the edge of the bed next to him as he sat down—the bed spring creaking under the sudden weight. He laid back on the bed, attempting to sink into the stiff mattress before letting out a low sigh.

Sam’s eyes fluttered shut. He wanted to rest for a bit—Sam wasn’t in a rush to get ready for bed since he didn’t have to fight for the shower with Dean.

The room was relatively quiet, save for the occasional car driving down the street. Sam could feel the exhaustion pulling at him, and as tempting as it was to succumb to the feeling, he wanted to shower the day off.

But before he could get up from the bed, a muffled moan caught his attention. Sam sat up slowly, his brows furrowing at the sudden sound. But it shouldn’t surprise him that people were having sex in this motel and the fact that the walls were thin enough to hear the noises.

Another moan filtered into his ears. It was louder this time and seemingly closer. He shook his head and went to get up from the bed before the moans grew louder and louder, and he realized it was coming from the room next to him. Your room.

His eyes widened. Oh. Sam thought as he tried to ignore your whines through the thin walls of the motel rooms. Is that why you didn’t want to come with them to the bar? Because you needed to relieve your sexual frustration, and that’s why you got a separate room from them? Now your shortness with him and Dean made more sense.

Sam’s mind ran through these thoughts as the moans kept growing in volume. A sharp squeal echoed into his room, and he couldn’t help his body’s reaction to the noises coming from your room, his cock hardening in his jeans. Sam knew that he should stop listening in and go into the bathroom and take the coldest shower to man until you eventually stopped or fell asleep.

But his slightly inebriated state didn’t want him to move from his spot. He swallowed hard before unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. Sam barely pulled down his jeans and boxers—just enough to pull his cock out, now fully hard and beginning to leak precum.

Sam spit into his hand before slowly stroking his length. A low sigh left his lips as he fell back onto the bed. Fuck you sounded so good. His eyes closed involuntarily as his eyes provided him images of you splayed out on the bed, playing with your pretty pussy— it had to be. There wasn't an inch of you that he didn’t admire— a groan left him as his hand slowly sped up, letting the lust he felt run through him and warm him inside and out.

Then there was a loud shout of pleasure before there was a lull of silence in the room, making him halt in his stroking—his hand still on the base of his cock. Sam had to strain his ears to try and hear your low voice through the walls, but couldn’t decipher what you were saying. Did you have someone else in the room with you? He couldn’t help but feel a spark of irritation at the thought as envy filled his veins.

“Fuck!” He heard you exclaim through the walls. It sounded louder than it should have, but then a higher-pitched moan came through the wall. Why did it sound familiar? The thought was a fleeting one before he started to fuck his fist again.

Sam expected a deeper moan following what he assumed to be your noises, but it was a more feminine moan that came after yours. Sam’s face flushed with heat, and thrusted into his hand harder when he realized that you were with another woman. Shit, that’s hot. Fuck I wish I was in her room watching them right now.

The moans grew louder and louder, and Sam could feel his orgasm fast approaching—his dick was twitching in his hand, and more precum trickled from his tip and down his length, using it as a lubricant along with his spit.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” Sam heard you say through the wall.

“Come f’me pretty girl.” Sam murmured in response. He felt his balls draw up as his abs clenched in anticipation—feeling his pleasure zip up his spine.

A low grunt left his lips at the sound of your keening whine that practically reverberated off the walls and directly into his ears. Warm spurts of his cum coated his hand and some landed on his lower stomach—Sam had managed to pull up his shirt right before he came. He was grateful that he did, not wanting a ribbing from Dean the next time they went to do laundry.

Sam laid down on the bed for a moment, trying to recollect himself. Both rooms were silent, so he assumed that you and your partner for the night had fallen asleep.

Sam got up from the bed, tucking himself back into his pants, and quickly made his way to the bathroom. He hastily stripped off his clothes and got into the shower, trying to ignore the guilt that was settling in his gut as he cleaned off his cum and the rest of the day off.

Post-nut clarity was a bitch.

[thedemoninme141]

Ugly Sweater Party (Set in the "Not a bad day" universe)

Summary: Enid orchestrates an "Ugly Sweater Party" where Wednesday's jealousy takes over.

Parings: Wednesday X Female Reader. Theme: Fluff! Set in the "before dating" period. Wordcount: 4k

Warnings: Jealous Wednesday? Hot-cocoa-Burn??? Cringe Romance!!

Dedicating this work to @blue-because-no-yellow

“So, hear me out, guys! An ugly sweater party! Like, before Christmas break. I’ve been looking at ideas online, and it’s just soooo fun! We could have contests for the ugliest sweater, snacks, music. Oh, and hot chocolate! Lots and lots of hot chocolate. Doesn’t that sound amazing?” Enid chirped.

Ajax blinked slowly, clearly still waking up. “Wait, so… everyone wears ugly sweaters and… that’s it?”

“Not just that! There’s music, games, maybe a contest for the ugliest sweater. We’ll decorate a space with string lights and make it festive!” Enid’s eyes practically sparkled. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

"What's the deal with the ugly sweaters, though? Why not just regular sweaters?" Ajax asked.

"Because!" Enid exclaimed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Ugly sweaters are festive and hilarious. It's a Christmas tradition!"

Yoko, sipping her coffee, said. "I don't do tacky."

"Yoko, you wear sunglasses indoors," Bianca quipped.

"Exactly." Yoko said, smirking.

“You know what, this can be fun if done right. Besides, who doesn’t love ugly sweaters and snacks?” Divina chimed in.

“A normal human being,” Wednesday muttered flatly.

Enid ignored her. “Come on, it’s not like we have to take it seriously or anything! It’s just an excuse to hang out and, you know, do something festive for once. Right, Eugene?” She turned to the boy, who had been quite.

Eugene adjusted his glasses, looking sheepish. “Uh, I guess it sounds kinda cool. As long as there are snacks…”

“There will be plenty of snacks, Eugene,” Enid assured him before turning to Kent. “What about you?”

Kent shrugged. “I’m in. Sounds chill. Plus, I’ve got this old sweater with Santa surfing on a shark. It’s perfect.”

“See? Everyone loves it!” Enid threw her arms up in triumph, beaming around the table. “Well, almost everyone.”

Bianca sighed. “Even if we wanted to, where are we going to throw a party like that? We’d need space, like a lot of space."

“What about the forest clearing?” Eugene suggested, “We could string up lights in the trees.”

“Yeah, because freezing to death sounds so festive,” Bianca said.

Enid’s blondeness didn't waver down. Enid turned toward Wednesday expectantly. “What about you, Willa? Do you know a place?”

“I am neither interested in your puerile event. Do whatever you want. Just leave me out of your hideous party.”

“What party?”

Wednesday’s posture stiffened immediately. Her grip on her fork tightened as she glanced up, only to find you approaching the table. You carried your tray with that infuriatingly warm smile on your face, the one that made her chest feel like it was simultaneously imploding and catching fire.

You slid into an empty seat beside Eugene, your curious eyes scanning the group. “What’s all the fuss about?”

Enid’s face lit up as if Christmas had arrived early. “Oh my gosh, okay, so I’m planning an ugly sweater party! Everyone wears the tackiest sweaters they can find, and we’ll have games and hot cocoa and, like, a contest for the ugliest one. Doesn’t that sound amazing?”

You laughed softly, and Wednesday’s pulse quickened. She hated how much she noticed the subtle curve of your lips. It was maddening.

“Sounds interesting,” you said, your smile lingering.

Wednesday’s jaw tightened. Interesting? Why did you have to find it interesting? And why did that single word make her want to throw herself into the abyss?

The group continued discussing but Wednesday heard none of it. Her focus was on you—the way you rested your chin on your hand, the sparkle of amusement in your eyes. She’d planned to completely ignore this party nonsense, but now? Your involvement complicated everything.

“Where are we even going to host this?” Divina asked again, bringing Wednesday out of her spiral.

Enid groaned, throwing her hands up. “Ugh, I don’t know! There’s got to be somewhere big enough that we won’t get in trouble.”

“You could ask Principal Weems for the common room,” Kent suggested, though his tone made it clear he didn’t think it was a great idea.

“She’d never go for it,” Bianca said. “Not unless you can somehow convince her it’s educational.”

“Educational?” Enid snorted. “What am I supposed to say? That ugly sweaters teach math?”

The table erupted in laughter, but Wednesday remained silent, her mind racing. She could feel your gaze on her, curious and patient. It was unbearable.

Before she realized what she was doing, she spoke.

“The Gates Mansion.”

The group fell silent, turning to look at her in surprise.

“What?” Enid asked.

“You can host your ridiculous party at the Gates Mansion,” Wednesday said, her tone clipped.

“Wait, are you serious?” Ajax asked. “Isn’t that place, like… haunted or something?”

“The hyde is gone. Crackstone is gone. Thornhill is gone,” Wednesday replied matter-of-factly. “It’s nothing but an old, decrepit house now.”

Enid’s eyes lit up. “Oh my gosh, that might work! Weems would never find out if we do something there and we could totally make it festive with some cleaning and lights! This is going to be so cool!”

“You’re going to need more than cleaning,” Yoko said. “That place is a wreck.”

“And terrifying,” Eugene added.

“Exactly why I’m going to need someone brave and crazy to help me clean it up!” Enid declared.

The entire group turned to Wednesday , even you were watching her, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

Wednesday sighed deeply, rolling her eyes. “Fine. But don’t expect me to wear one of those abominable sweaters.”

Enid squealed in delight, clapping her hands. “This is going to be the best ugly sweater party ever!”

Wednesday cast a fleeting glance at you.

She wasn’t sure whether to curse you or thank you for making her day infinitely more complicated.

.

"Uh… are we sure about this?” Ajax asked, glancing at the dilapidated structure. “It looks like the setting of every horror movie ever.”

“Relax, Ajax,” Enid chirped, her voice brimming with forced cheer.

“Wednesday and I have been here before. Just a big, spooky, totally-not-haunted house.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring,” Ajax muttered, inching closer to Enid as if proximity could protect him.

“The last time we were here, we were chased by the hyde. You know, a grotesque, murderous monster with claws designed to flay flesh.” Wednesday was behind them, getting dragged into this mess by Enid.

Ajax stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. “Wait—what?”

“Wednesday!” Enid shot Wednesday a sharp glare. “You’re not helping.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” Wednesday replied, her tone clipped.

Enid rolled her eyes and turned to Ajax, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Look, I promise it’s safe. The hyde’s gone, and Wednesday’s just being dramatic.” She shot her roommate a pointed look.

Ajax hesitated, glancing at the mansion again. “Uh.. I think I forgot something back at Nevermore…”

Enid nudged Ajax forward. “Come on, don’t bail on me now. Besides, we need someone tall to hang the lights. Right, Willa?”

Wednesday didn’t answer. She was too busy glaring at the mansion, as though willing it to collapse and save her from this pointless endeavor.

“Alright, team, let’s split up and conquer! Ajax, you can start by clearing the cobwebs. Wends and I will tackle the furniture.”

“I didn’t agree to this,” Wednesday said flatly.

Enid ignored her. “Come on, it’s for the party! And think of all the fun everyone’s going to have. Especially you-know-who.”

Wednesday’s jaw tightened.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Y/N,” Enid said dramatically, holding a hand to her chest. “I just didn’t get enough help with the setup, and that’s why this party isn’t up to your standards.”

Wednesday’s glare could have turned Enid to stone. She knew exactly what her roommate was doing, and worse.... it was working. Begrudgingly, she picked up a dust-covered chair and moved it to the corner of the room.

Enid winked at Ajax, who looked more confused than anything. “See? Teamwork makes the dream work.”

The hours dragged on, filled with Ajax’s muttered complaints, Enid’s chatter, and the occasional sound of Wednesday grinding her teeth. As they worked, the mansion slowly transformed. The dust was swept away, the windows sparkled, and strings of lights began to illuminate the once-shadowy corners.

By the end of the day, the Gates Mansion was looking almost festive—if you squinted and ignored the peeling wallpaper and the leftover cobwebs.

🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸

Wednesday stood near the fireplace, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her posture was as rigid as ever, her expression blank. But inwardly, she was waging a battle against her gag reflex. Everywhere she looked, there was an explosion of color—garish reds, obnoxious greens, hideous yellows. And the sweaters. The sweaters.

Her own attire was simple, deliberate, and true to her identity: a plain, black sweater devoid of any embellishment. It was the only concession she had made to Enid’s ridiculous demands.

Her circle of idiots had gathered on mismatched sofas dragged into a semi-circle at one corner, all chattering as Enid zipped around with an energy that could power a small town. Ajax trailed behind her, struggling under the weight of a tray filled with cups of hot cocoa.

“Wednesday!” Enid called, waving her over. “Get over here and grab some hot cocoa before it’s all gone. Ajax nearly spilled half of it on the way in.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes as she stepped closer with deliberate slowness, as if approaching a live grenade.

“Isn’t this just the best?” Enid beamed, handing her a mug. “I mean, look at us! Ugly sweaters, hot cocoa, and friends. It's like a cute dream!"

“More like a nightmare,” Wednesday muttered, eyeing the mug suspiciously. Still, she accepted it, if only to keep her hands busy and distract herself from the urge to claw her eyes out.

Bianca smirked from her spot on the sofa. “You’re just mad because you couldn’t resist joining in. Look at you, wearing a sweater like the rest of us.”

“This is not a sweater,” Wednesday corrected, her tone sharp. “It’s a black, woolen garment devoid of festivity.”

“Still counts, anyway, guys! It’s time to decide who’s wearing the ugliest sweater. We need a system!” Enid chirped.

“Can’t we just vote?” Ajax suggested, taking a cautious sip of his cocoa.

“No way,” Enid replied. “That’s too boring. We need something fun. Like, a panel of judges or—oh! Maybe we each explain our sweater, and the group decides.”

“Or,” Bianca drawled, raising a brow, “we pick someone who’s brutally honest to a fault and let them decide.”

As one, the group turned to Wednesday.

Her grip on the mug tightened as every pair of eyes locked onto her. Enid was practically bouncing with excitement. “Wednesday, you’re perfect for this! You’ve got the sharpest eye. Come on, roast us.”

Her eyes narrowed. “No.”

“Oh, come on!” Enid pleaded. “You’re perfect for this.”

Bianca smirked. “Well, we’ve finally found a use for Wednesday. Come on, Addams. Judge us.”

“Fine,” she said. “But don’t cry when I destroy your fragile egos.”

“Yay!” Enid cheered, clapping her hands. “Okay, go!”

Wednesday stood, her gaze sweeping over the group. She started with Yoko, her tone clipped and precise. “Yoko’s sweater is an abomination of neon and flashing lights. It looks less like a holiday garment and more like a warning sign for an approaching biohazard.”

Yoko snorted, clearly amused, while the others burst into laughter.

Wednesday’s gaze landed on Enid. She paused, taking in the jingling bells and riot of color. “And Enid… Your sweater is less a garment and more a crime scene. It’s a murder of taste and decency, except crime scenes look beautiful, yours is hideous. ”

Enid gasped in offense, clutching her chest. “How dare you? This is festive perfection!”

Next victim was Ajax, “Your sweater is an assault on the senses. The color palette suggests that it was designed by someone experiencing a particularly vivid fever dream. And the snowman? You know what, I take that back, I actually like this sweater, that abomination of a snowman can work in a horror movie."

“Thanks, I think?” Ajax said nervously.

Bianca crossed her arms, waiting for her turn. Wednesday obliged. “Your sweater is a desperate attempt to marry elegance with obnoxiousness. The glitter alone is enough to give a child a seizure. What do you think it is? The Raven? Your sweater screams, ‘Look at me,’ which, I suppose, is your specialty.”

Bianca raised an eyebrow. “Touché.”

Finally, Wednesday turned to Eugene. She studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. “Your sweater is… acceptable.”

Eugene blinked in surprise. “Wait, is that—was that a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it,” Wednesday said flatly.

“What about me?”

Wednesday’s head snapped toward you. You were standing near the cocoa station, holding a mug and smiling at her. Your sweater was a disaster—neon orange with a pattern of candy canes, snowflakes, and . It looked like it had been knitted by a maniac with no sense of restraint.

“Go on,” you said, your tone teasing. “Roast me. I can take it. Tear mine apart.” Say what now?

Wednesday opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her mind raced. Hideous. Obscene. A crime against humanity. The words were there, perfectly formed. Yet when she looked at you, all she could think was—

Beautiful.

“Well?” Enid prodded, her grin mischievous. “What’s wrong, Willa? Cat got your tongue?”

Wednesday’s jaw tightened. She could dissect the flaws in a masterpiece with ease, but when it came to you, even wearing that, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything remotely cruel.

“Your sweater…” she began, her voice faltering. “It’s… functional.”

The group failed to stifle their laughter.

“Functional? You said all that for mine and you call her's functional? Come on Wednesday, that's the contest winner right there!” Bianca teased, Wednesday only shot her a glare.

Sensing Wednesday's growing unease, you quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, this cocoa is amazing. Who made it?”

Ajax perked up, raising his hand. “That’d be me.”

You smiled at him, and Wednesday’s chest tightened. “It’s really good. Nice work.”

Ajax grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. My grandma taught me how to make it. Secret family recipe.”

"You have to teach me someday." You took another sip, your eyes twinkling with genuine appreciation. Wednesday clenched her fists at her sides, the mug in her hand threatening to crack under the pressure of her grip. The warmth of your smile directed at Ajax did something unexplainable to Wednesday’s insides. It was irritating and fascinating all at once.

And so she found herself back in her spot beside the fireplace, trying to look as composed as always.

Her eyes, however, betrayed her. They followed you.

You were by the snack table, chatting with one of the stoners—what was his name? Nate? Nick? It didn’t matter. He leaned closer to say something, and you laughed, the sound a soft chime that seemed to echo in Wednesday’s ears far too loudly, it was maddening.

And that boy, with his messy hair and an air of unearned confidence, was soaking it all in. He said something else, and you giggled again, nudging his arm playfully. Wednesday’s fingers twitched. She imagined reaching for her knife, a comforting thought, though regrettably impractical in this setting.

“Wednesday!” Enid’s chirpy voice broke through her thoughts. She turned her head sharply, meeting her roommate’s bright, oblivious grin. “Isn’t this amazing? Everyone’s having such a good time!”

Wednesday glanced at the room, her gaze flickering back to you before she responded. “I fail to see how this qualifies as ‘amazing.’ ”

“Oh, come on! Look at everyone, laughing, drinking cocoa, making memories! Even you’re not glaring as much as usual. That’s progress.” Enid nudged her playfully, earning another withering glare.

Ajax appeared, holding a tray of other snacks. “Hey, Enid, where do you want these?”

“Over by the snack table!” Enid directed. Then, turning to the group, she clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, people! It’s been super fun hanging out, but it’s time to get your pairs ready because we’re dancing next!”

A collective murmur rose, some students cheering while others groaned.

“Dancing?” Bianca raised an eyebrow, sipping her cocoa. “You didn’t say anything about dancing, Sinclair.”

“I did too!” Enid protested. “Well… maybe I hinted at it. Anyway, it’s happening, so suck it up!”

“Uh, what if we can’t dance?” a random student yelled.

“You sway awkwardly and call it a day,” Enid quipped and dashed toward her barely put together DJ booth to adjust the music while everyone started paring. Wednesday remained by the fireplace, her gaze locked on you.

Nate-nick stepped closer toward you, his posture overly casual, and Wednesday’s fingers curled into fists.

“So, Y/N,” he began, scratching the back of his head. “You’re, like, really cool. Wanna, uh, be my partner for the dancing?”

Wednesday didn’t even wait to hear your answer. Spinning on her heel, she made her way to Ajax, who was setting down the last of the cocoa mugs.

“Ajax,” she said, her voice flat but laced with an edge that made him flinch.

“Uh, yeah, Wednesday?” he asked nervously, straightening up.

“I need more hot cocoa. Boiling.”

Ajax blinked, clearly confused. “Boiling? I mean, sure, but isn’t the regular batch warm enough?"

“Did I stutter?” Wednesday’s dark eyes bore into him, and Ajax quickly held up his hands in surrender.

“Nope. Boiling cocoa, coming right up.” He scrambled to prepare a fresh batch, throwing nervous glances over his shoulder just preparing himself to dodge any flying knives. When it was ready, he handed her a mug. The liquid inside was steaming.

“Here you go,” Ajax said, still baffled. “Didn’t think you’d like cocoa this much… careful tho."

Wednesday’s lips curled into a smirk, one that sent a shiver down Ajax’s spine. As he watched her turn and walk away, realization dawned on him. He quickly busied himself with something else, wisely choosing not to question her about whatever she planned to do with this acid he just gave her.

Without hesitation, Wednesday approached the boy who had dared to ask you to dance. He was still by your side, oblivious to the doom looming behind him. With calculated precision, Wednesday "tripped," her hand jerking just enough to send the scalding cocoa splashing onto his arm and chest.

“AHHH! HOT!” He yelped, flailing as the cocoa soaked through. His friends quickly gathered around him, their faces a mixture of shock and fear.

“How clumsy of me,” Wednesday said flatly, not bothering to mask her lack of remorse.

His friends exchanged nervous glances, none daring to confront her. They helped him toward the kitchen to clean up, leaving you standing there, bewildered.

“Wednesday,” you said, stepping closer. “Was that… really an accident?”

“Of course,” she replied, her voice calm as ever. “Gravity is unpredictable.”

You sighed, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve been called worse,” she deadpanned.

The music started up behind you, and the others began pairing off and moving to the makeshift dance floor. The room was alive with laughter and chatter, but you and Wednesday stood apart from it all. You glanced around before looking back at Wednesday. “Come with me.” It wasn’t a question. For a moment, Wednesday hesitated, her mind racing with a thousand reasons to say no. But instead, she found herself nodding. “Lead the way.”

Wednesday followed you up the grand staircase. She didn’t bother asking where you were leading her, she didn’t particularly care. If you wanted privacy, she would oblige. If this was another attempt to pry some semblance of emotion out of her, you would fail. Or so she told herself.

You pushed open a door at the end of the hall, revealing a spacious room bathed in moonlight streaming through large, arched windows.

Turning to face her, you crossed your arms, “Well, considering you’ve likely left my dance partner with third-degree burns…”

Wednesday tilted her head, “I fail to see how that is my problem.”

“Oh, it is.” You stepped closer, your voice softening. “Because now, you have to take his place.”

Her eyebrows rose, a rare flicker of surprise crossing her otherwise stoic face. “I fail to see how that logic tracks.”

“You caused the incident. You take responsibility.” Your tone left no room for argument, but before she could protest further, you added, “But I’m kind enough to spare you the humiliation of doing it downstairs. We’ll dance here. Privately.”

The word privately settled uncomfortably in her chest, both a warning and something she couldn't recognize.

“I’m even letting you have a say in the music,” you said, glancing at her. “Any requests?”

“Something haunting,” she replied without hesitation, the corner of her mouth twitching into what might’ve been a smirk.

You hummed thoughtfully before selecting a piano piece—somber, slow, and emotional. It wasn’t the haunting melody she had hoped for, but it was close enough.

Wednesday stepped closer, her posture rigid. “I don’t slow dance.”

“Well, tonight you do,” you said with a teasing smile, holding out your hand.

She stared at it as if it were an unfamiliar weapon, something both intriguing and dangerous. After a moment of hesitation, she took it. Your fingers were warm, soft against the coolness of her own, and she tried to ignore the way her pulse quickened at the contact.

You guided her hand to your waist and placed your hand on her shoulder, the touch sending a ripple of something unfamiliar through her. She mirrored your movements stiffly at first, her steps awkward as the two of you began to sway to the music.

“Relax, Wednesday,” you said softly, your voice carrying a warmth that somehow made Wednesday feel chills.

“I am relaxed,” she countered, though the tension in her shoulders betrayed her words.

You chuckled, a sound that grated on her nerves and yet inexplicably soothed them. Slowly, her body began to follow the rhythm, her steps becoming less mechanical. She focused on the music, letting it guide her movements, but her attention kept drifting back to you.

Your eyes were soft, your smile easy, and the way you looked at her—as if she were something precious—made her chest feel something she didn’t fully understand. She had always prided herself on her ability to remain detached, to keep the world at arm’s length. But with you, that distance seemed to collapse, leaving her exposed and vulnerable in a way she found both infuriating and intoxicating.

As the dance continued, the space between you grew smaller. She could feel the faint scent of whatever perfume you wore, and it was all-consuming. Her usually sharp mind felt dull, clouded by your presence.

This was dangerous. You were dangerous. Not in the conventional sense, of course, you posed no physical threat. But the way you made her feel, the way you seemed to slip past every wall she had built around herself, was a danger of an entirely different kind. She didn’t like it. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.

And then you rested your head on her shoulder.

Wednesday froze, her body stiffening before she forced herself to relax. Her heart, that stubborn organ she often dismissed as a mere biological necessity, pounded erratically in her chest. She didn’t understand it, this inexplicable pull toward you, but she knew she didn’t want it to end.

You sighed softly, your breath warm against her neck. “Thanks for this, Wednesday. I know it’s not your thing, but… it means a lot.”

Her other free hand, which had been hovering awkwardly at her side, hesitated before resting lightly against your back. The gesture was hesitant, almost uncertain, but it felt… right. Too right.

She didn’t know how long you stayed like that, swaying gently in the moonlight. All she knew was the warmth of your body, the softness of your breath, and this, whatever this was...

When the music finally faded, you lifted your head and met her gaze. There was something unspoken in your eyes, something she couldn’t quite name but felt all the same. She didn’t say anything, and neither did you. The silence was enough.

As you stepped back, breaking the spell, she felt an ache she couldn’t place. You smiled at her, soft and genuine, and she found herself returning it—just barely.

“Thanks for the dance,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded, her expression as stoic as ever, but her mind was anything but calm.

As you turned and left the room, she felt something in her hand, a small note, "Call me sometimes Wednesday"

The faintest trace of a smile tugged at Wednesday's lips.

Not a bad party, not bad at all.

[This was so fun to write, thought you guys need some fluff after the heartbreak from the last oneshot]

[A VERY IMPORTANT REQUEST: A close friend of mine @blue-because-no-yellow is leaving for a few months on her basic training. So I would be really grateful to you guys if you wished her some goodluck in the comments! Like really, sometimes, the kind words of strangers become something to remember during hard times in the future...]

[WORKLIST]

[themculibrary]

What If...? (TV Show) Masterlist

part two

a monster wearing his torn clothes (ao3) - doodleishere steve/bucky T, 2k

Summary: It’s Steve, but it’s not. It’s Steve, but it’s a monster. It’s Steve, but it’s dead.

-

A reimagining of that scene in episode five of What If...?

A Way in the Wilderness (ao3) - englishable stephen/christine T, 6k

Summary: She’s fairly certain this is all a weird dream, and so Christine does not question it: the void, the blue evening gown, the floating prism with its lonely prisoner in a cloak of black and gold, and certainly not that apparition of a giant orange bald guy with glowing eyes. Especially not that.

As the version of herself from the so-called sacred timeline, maybe Christine can simply go wherever and whenever she wants.

(In which the Watcher settles his debt of gratitude to Strange Supreme, sort of.)

beside my bed i keep a bottle of dreams (ao3) - GrimRevolution G, 1k

Summary: It has been quite a while since Stephen Strange has talked to anyone besides the Watcher. Quite a very long time.

Breaking Loose (ao3) - amadness2method (CynSyn), rearranged (her_ghost) T, 5k

Summary: Stephen vowed to do whatever it took to bring Christine back... and he did. When his plan imploded, Stephen lost everything and found himself stuck in an eternal prison of his own creation.

When he's called upon to defend the multiverse with a group of heroes, he's given a chance at redemption that he never expected.

A Strange Supreme character study.

Captain Carter Meets The Howling Commandos (ao3) - Politzania steve/peggy T, 1k

Summary: After Captain Carter rescues the Howling Commandos from a Hydra POW camp, they adopt her - and Steve Rogers - as their leaders.

Come Back To Me (ao3) - Spacecadet27 steve/peggy T, 7k

Summary: Years after Peggy arrived in the 21st century, SHIELD finds the Hydra Stomper and Steve Rogers alive inside it.

Disturbing the Peace (ao3) - Lyrstzha T, 4k

Summary: Of course there is no whispering. She reminds herself of that a lot. It's still hard not to try to pick out words, especially in the long nights, which are as dark as the inside of a grave. But it's all the inside of a grave now, day or night, so Natasha supposes that simile is one more thing that's dead now.

do you feel me now? do you know me yet? (ao3) - ghoultown wanda/vision T, 6k

Summary: There is a part of Vision, desperate and alone and afraid, that wants to call out to the Avengers at his doorstep. Perhaps they’ve come with a solution. Perhaps their tests have proved more fruitful, perhaps they have a way to accelerate the healing that is occurring in Wanda, cell by cell, inch by inch.

He scans the crowd again and does not find what he wants to.

They look just as afraid. Too afraid to possibly hold a solution. And, therefore, they seek refuge.

He retreats from the wall, pressing his palms to it. Pressing his forehead to it.

Oh, he cannot help them.

Wanda only needs time, and she will be saved. They will need much, much more.

-

An infected Wanda is healing herself and Vision is keeping her company. Two pieces of a Mind Stone waiting for things to get back to normal so they can talk to each other again. (And so Vision can be told he is handsome.)

Finding A Life (ao3) - flipflop_diva steve/natasha T, 10k

Summary: Imagine what it would be like to lose everyone and everything you ever had and ever knew. Imagine what it would be like to see the entire world destroyed before your very eyes and not be able to do anything about it. Imagine you were the last one standing until, in a weird twist of fate, you were plunked down in another universe that is similar to yours but not quite. For Natasha Romanoff, this is her reality after Ultron destroys the world she is from. Now, she has a new world, a new life and people who look like the ones she left behind but aren't the same. But Natasha has always been a survivor, and she's going to find a way to survive in this new world — and maybe, just maybe, she'll find something more with this version of Steve Rogers.

(Or, Natasha from the "What If Ultron Won" universe in her new life in the "What If All the Avengers Died" universe becoming friends with the Steve from that universe — or maybe something more.)

prism of endless possibility (ao3) - hunkahulkaaburningfudge wanda/vision, gamora/peter, bucky/natasha G, 100k

Summary: The Avengers & the Guardians of the Galaxy watch the multiverse.

A What If...? watch-it fic.

the conversation we had as the world went to hell (ao3) - Spintwin M, 4k

Summary: After Bucky Barnes was thrown into the distance by Wanda, he was saved by the last person he ever would have expected, Helmut Zemo. The two hide out, drink, and talk for a night in the middle of the apocalypse.

The End Is the Beginning (ao3) - Meltha T, 5k

Summary: Natasha and Clint have survived, but with everything taken from them, the only goal left is revenge.

The Scenic Route (ao3) - Breakinglight11 steve/peggy G, 1k

Summary: When Uatu takes Captain Carter back to her own universe by the scenic route, she gets a chance to see if there is some timeline out there where she gets her happy ending.

The Strongest Instinct (ao3) - SuperHeroTiger T, 2k

Summary: Tilting his head towards the screams of a fresh kill echoing down the street, Tony blasted off in his nanotech suit and weaved through the abandoned cityscape. He didn’t know why he stayed there. His corrupted mind would never given him a chance to find the answer, but he always stayed in the city. Wandered the crumbling boroughs, lingered in places he didn’t remember. As if he was searching for something…

But just as quickly as the thought would occur, it would get washed away again.

Hunger. Hunger. Hunger-

That’s all there ever was…

...

(Alternate timeline to Episode 5 of What If...? starring zombies, Irondad and hurt/comfort)

The Uncertainty of Us (ao3) - softintelligence clint/natasha T, 3k

Summary: “You stay here,” Natasha said. “Don’t want you to risk being attacked while you’re unarmed.”

“It’s a bit too soon to joke about that, okay?” Clint said.

through the multiverse (ao3) - Linzerj peggy/natasha T, 15k

Summary: They go back to their respective universes (or a new one, in Natasha's case). But what if... that wasn't the end?

(Or: a series of one-shots and drabbles set in the universe of Marvel's What If...? Mostly taking part post-canon. Featuring introspections, team bonding, and moving forward in your own reality after being exposed to the multiverse.)

Twin Funerals (ao3) - FemSanzo291 T, 1k

Summary: After Carol Danvers and Steve Rogers manage to defeat Loki, there is one thing left to do: the funerals for the Avengers Candidates that never had a chance to be part of the team.

What if… The Watcher Left Natasha in the Sacred Timeline? (ao3) - StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese clint/laura G, 3k

Summary: After the battle with Ultron is over, the Watcher still takes Natasha Romanoff to a dimension that lost their version of her, but this time, he chooses differently.

In Missouri, Clint Barton wakes up to a phone call from Nick Fury, asking him about the multiverse.

When You Can't Keep Smiling, Lean On Me (ao3) - ChocolateXMyMouth G, 1k

Summary: Peter's having a not-so-good day - even considering the standards for not so good days with the zombie apocalypse going on right now, this one was just... tough.

But thankfully, he's not alone.

He's really thankful for that.

you have suffered enough (it's time that you won) (ao3) - dharmainitiative sam/bucky T, 4k

Summary: On their way to find the cure to the zombie apocalypse, Bucky convinces Sam to join them, despite the fact that they don’t know each other or even like each other.

The flashes Bucky keeps getting of Sam's family, of working with Sam on a boat, or of Sam holding the shield probably don't mean anything, anyway.

[andwlita]

Jan 13, 2025

I don't know what hurts more, losing myself or losing the other half who I visioned my life with, or maybe both. January 11, 2025, he decided he's "pulling out" of the love and bullshit that we had and stay in business. That says a lot on about how he treats me.

We lost respect for each other, mainly because of money. Do I blame myself, yes. Do I blame him, I'll let the universe decide. Why do I even talk about blaming when all I want was to fix the relationship. Why did we break up, he said, generally it will never work. The way I perceive money makes him tick. He said there's this one day where he had to travel and need 250 pesos to ride angkas. At that time, he's squeezing money out of me like I have unlimited budget. He said if I was a normal girlfriend, I would give him money straight without questions. That's not how it works for me. He said his friend's girlfriends willingly give them money without questions, I kept telling him that I am not that type of person and his friends are lucky they met them. He's screaming at me like I'm a prey he wants to devour. He's had enough. A month back we had ringing arguments, he said you'll see. It will all pile up and January 11, 2025 was that day. My heart really hurts, I'm grieving. This week I planned on letting him come over because my parents are in vietnam, but I just imploded. It took a toll on us when the car payment lapsed 2 days, I'm that dense too I know but the client is owing us 30k and we needed 14k more to make up for the car payment and I am done shelling out money. I've given him too much of my credit and they are all still unpaid. He said all I care about was the car but all of that was for him! I never received serious profit from the car, only him. I was asking his client to sign a promissory note to take his word in a paper. What I hated was he wasn't taking all of it seriously that he had the confidence to go with his friend in Cainta and didn't even look for a way to print the note. He was really pushing it, that is where I got mad. Even a digital signature he cannot accomplish and he said we should just take his word for it and use him as collateral itself. What type of a businessman does that? I get that they're friends but he's not the only one at stake here. It was 2 am and I was shouting at him, he's had enough. I understand too, it's my fault. The next day, he still said good morning, but when I started questioning again about his client, he lashed out on me. Full blown voice notes of how I disrespected him, ruined everything, and him pulling out.

At first I was okay with him pulling out because I was confident that he'll go back to me but January 11, it's becoming real. We were supposed to sleep together because I'm alone at home and reconcile but he wasn't responding. I found out the next day, he went out with his friends and got pizza from a pizza place I was eyeing before. I apologized and told him he can come here to reconcile, no replies. I was crying at 2 am and he was having fun with his friends. I told him why is he willing to lose me than the car, and he kept on saying the car is what matters to me but the moment things starts ringing, he chose the car over me, amazing.

As a person with lowest fucking self esteem and respect, I couldn't take the fact that he's not there anymore. I asked him if I can meet him, no replies. I told him I am willing to do everything to fix it, so I packed lunch, which I cooked shrimp, skipped breakfast and went to his place. The gate is open, I go up to his apartment and took a while to compose myself and knock on the door. He opened it and I started crying saying sorry. He started kissing my head. I sat beside him and asked him if he's sure we are breaking up. His mood changed, he said he just woke up. I know I was adamant on asking him, he got irritated. He got up started cleaning and telling me how I don't deserve him and how he doesn't want me in his life anymore. I told him I'm sorry, I'm willing to fix it. He said NO, a thousand times. And I hugged and begged for him to not go. It was the most exhausting thing, I haven't had real food, I'm sobbing, and I feel dry and pale. I begged and begged like I have no self esteem left in my body. He told me everything without pause how he thinks of me.

He said someone who loves him will never disrespect him.

Only who knows the truth in my heart, how I poured everything for him. He said I am easily replaceable, he can look for other girlfriends who are willing to give him 100k straight, he doesn't see a future in me because I am useless to him. All in my face, while I sob, begging for him to stay with me.

I had enough, I told him if he doesn't want me, fine. I came to his place to fix it and it's not working. I was sobbing and told him he doesn't need to call me on Wednesday because I don't want to do anything with the car anymore. He got up and started hugging me and asked me to sit down.

I waited for him to finish smoking. I told him please don't breakup with me. He just stared at me for one minute crying, he can't speak. My head hurts. His friend called him and he acted like nothing is happening. I walked out, he pulled my hand and I waited. We went down, I was staring at the floor like I witnessed a war zone in front of my eyes. I can't fathom how he can say all those things to me and tell me, it's not over YET but wait til Wednesday. I told him I don't need to know anything on Wednesday, the car is not important to me. It's a protest to how he thinks I'm here for the money but it's him who is here for the money. I told him if this relationship is important to you, you wouldn't hesitate to say no, I don't wanna breakup. But although what happened, I understand that he had to let go of me. It wasn't a good start and it ended worse. I was there for him and him only. I got to know myself better and learned that I need to improve myself. I'm quietly waiting for Wednesday but I know this is his tipping point, and I understand, I've been subconsciously assessing his behavior for the part months, he's avoiding and disengaging especially during the holidays. I know that he will progress when there's a motivator like this for him. I want the very best for him with or without me. I gave him everything that I don't normally say yes to. Especially my financial principles and cultural preferences. My family welcomed him with open arms and more. He chose to move on without me, and that's ok. I am grieving hard because I am confused, brokenhearted and lost. Looking at how much I poured my heart out for him for the past year, I tried my best to build him. Of course, you cannot build a man. But I cannot comprehend either of how much above and beyond I went for him, and he threw it away because of my attitude. I think that's love. I love him and if he choose to not be with me. I'll let him be.

[bingoboingobongo]

task force 141 + christmas wishlists

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Warnings: none

A/N: ewww i have finals tmmrw

rodolfo "rudy" parra:

alright so i mentioned this in my stocking stuffers headcanon but we're gonna go in more depth here

rudy's christmas wishlist is really just legos

but like big, expensive lego sets

like i said then, he always compiles a big list of sets he wants each year

this year he's obsessed with the technic/vehicle sets

he got the vespa set for his birthday so that one was crossed off the list

and now he's looking to collect all the ferrari sets

last year he nabbed the ferrari 488 gte "af course #1"

and this year he wants the ferrari daytona sp3

he really likes the technic sets because their like a harder version of the normal lego sets

plus they're a lot more durable which is important to him

he has all his lego sets lined up on shelves around his apartment

and he already has a shelf of lego vehicles

which currently includes the ferrari 488, the vespa, and the lamborghini sián fkp 37 (he bought that for himself after he got a pay raise)

and ofc once he gets all his luxury cars/racecars collected, he plans on moving onto the classic cars collection

john "soap" mactavish:

alright so idk why this headcanon brings me so much joy but it does

but soap really really really wants a dirt bike for christmas

he rode one during a mission around summer time

and ever since then he won't stop raving about how cool it was

if we're being honest he wasn't that good at it

but honestly that just motivated him even more because now he wants one so he can get better at riding it

he wants to be able to do all those crazy flips and tricks they do

and he spends soooo much time researching bikes and watching videos of the tricks

he also doesn't even know when he would get the chance to use it

or where he would practice

since his house is not exactly near prime dirt biking terrain

but he insists he'll figure something out

his dream is definitely the yz250

he just thinks it looks so cool and sleek

but it's like ~$7000 so he doesn't have his hopes up

would definitely implode if he got it tho

john price:

alright so for christmas price really wants a weighted heated blanket

i mean can you blame him?

it gets pretty cold up in his cabin and he just wants to be able to be all warm and cozy

he honestly didn't even realize it was a thing until gaz told him about it

and now he won't stop talking about it

like he keeps hinting about how he wants it

saying things like "god it's cold in here, a nice heated blanket would be great huh?" or "my blanket is getting so thin, one of those weighted blankets would be insane huh?"

what can i say he really wants one

but he also doesn't wanna spend like $100 on one

which is why he's being so coy about it

besides a weighted heated blanket price wants cigars

i mean he always wants cigars but he wants them as a christmas gift this time

he wants really fancy ones that are really high quality

honestly his ideal holiday evening is him on the couch, with warm socks, a tea, a cigar, and his weighted heated blanket and a nice movie on the tv

simon "ghost" riley:

this year (and every year really) simon wants books for christmas

he's a fan of classic literature so he really just wants paperbacks of all the classics

paperback because it's easier to bring on missions

like i said in one of my past headcanons, i think simon was definitely an english literature major in college

so he definitely has a lot of books already

but let's be real you can never have too many books

the books on his wishlist this year include the metamorphosis by franz kafka, journey to the center of the earth by jules verne, and the picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde

okay we're gonna go off on a tangent here

but simon secretly wants to open up a bookstore when he retires

except, and this is gonna get kinda sad here, he knows it's ultimately just a pipe dream bc the chances of him retiring are really slim

yk since he's more likely to be killed in action...

but he still likes the idea of it in case he does make it out of the military alive

kyle "gaz" garrick:

alright so for christmas gaz wants new headphones and a speaker

gaz just lives his life with a soundtrack in the background what can i say

he loves listening to music whenever he can

whether he's working or training or in the shower

i like to think that he used to actually have a really nice set of earbuds

and he usually keeps them in one of the pockets of his uniform

but when he fell out of that helicopter he lost his earbuds

and he was absolutely devastated too because they were so nice

but this time around he wants headphones so that he can really take advantage of the noise cancelling feature

probably not the smartest option considering he's in the military but yk what sometimes gaz just needs a break from the outside and honestly who doesn't?

he also has a really nice speaker but then soap broke it

gaz had it next to him on the couch while he was watching tv or smthing

and then soap sorta hopped over the back of the couch to sit next to him

and then sat straight on the speaker

and since the couch at the base sucks and is therefore pretty hard

plus the fact that soap is probably like over two hundred pounds of muscle

the speaker really had no chance

so yeah gaz really just wants his music back for christmas

and off topic but he's into a lot of oldish hip hop/rap rn

like the notorious b.i.g., ice cube, 2pac, dr. dre

yk sorta like the classics

(im ngl idk if those are classics music genres confuse me)

alejandro vargas:

this year alejandro wants a ps5

maybe this is coming sorta out of left field but i feel like alejandro is lowkey a gamer

which ik doesn't make sense since we've established he's into self care and gamers never shower

jkjk no hate to any gamers im sure most of y'all have tolerable self hygiene

but yeah alejandro is actually super into video games

he has a lot of consoles but he didn't get the ps5 when it first came out so now he wants it

im gonna go off on a few alejandro video game tangents here so get ready

first off i think he and rudy played "a way out" together with no prior knowledge of the game

and so at the ending they were absolutely devastated

they also play overcooked a lot

and they let the other task force members play too

it's always interesting because alejandro takes it really seriously

and so he gets soooo stressed about it it's kinda amusing

also he's super good at super smash bros

and surprisingly he's not really a fan of first person shooter games (ironic i know)

it's just that he does that so much in real life he doesn't want to do it in games too

[demieddie]

your eyes look like coming home

gen, no archive warnings apply, m/m - buddie, ~5k

summary:

After his breakup with Taylor, Buck decides not to date anyone on the premise of ‘we’re having fun together, let’s see where this goes’ and to focus on potential serious partners instead. When he determines what a serious partner means to him, he realizes every single quality and wish points straight to his best friend. So, in short, Buck is doomed.

Written for the 9-1-1 2022 Bingo Prompt (@911bingo): “Love is always going to require a huge leap of faith.”

[read on ao3]

Buck has finally reached a point in his life where he cannot deny that he is in love with Eddie. He did some serious reflection after breaking up with Taylor and decided that was the last time he would build a relationship on “seeing where things go”. So, he sat down alone with his thoughts and the last beer in his fridge to make a list of everything he wants in a partner. He got halfway down the list—someone who is happy for me when things go my way, someone who I don’t need to watch my words around, someone who I can goof off with, someone who is there for me even when I can’t be there for myself, someone who I can build a family with—before he realized he was mentally adding “like Eddie” onto every point.

So, yeah, Buck is a little head over heels for his best friend. Or, rather, completely in love with him.

The main problem is that he has no idea what to do about it. Does he leave it alone and hope like hell he finds someone similar? Does he tell him and potentially ruin their friendship? It seems like a massive thing to keep secret, but Buck does not want to be that one guy who implodes a friendship over non-platonic feelings. He saw enough of that during his travelling days and does not wish to experience it himself.

So, realistically, there is only one path forward. Keep quiet and smile through the pain when Eddie inevitably gets together with someone.

Buck soon learns that his initial plan is not as easy as he thought it would be. He thought nothing would change—and, outside of Buck’s own head, nothing has—but it is almost like everything has changed. Buck is biting back love confessions more times than he can count. Long-winded rambling ones when they have stayed up a little too late and are only lit by the commercials on Eddie’s TV. Soft quiet ones when Eddie’s head is in his hands while looking over utility bills. One notable time when Buck burns his whole mouth with the coffee Eddie gave him one shift because the only two options were to chug it or to say love you instead of thanks.

Months pass in a blur of work shifts, nights spent at the Diaz residence, and remaining nights alone in his apartment. He and Eddie spend weeks planning Christopher’s eleventh birthday—his first with all of his friends in years—and seeing the smile on Christopher’s face made the long nights and countless phone calls worth it one thousand times over. He watches as Maddie and Chimney find their way back together again, each one of Jee-Yun's milestones bringing them a step closer. One night, Eddie’s wall gets painted back to its original colour.

Buck gets used to swallowing the words on the tip of his tongue. He gets used to the pang in his chest when Eddie sits on the couch where no part of them can touch. He gets used to smiling and joking around with everyone when Eddie gets flirted with on calls.

Everything is fine. Everything settles into normalcy. Everything is normal.

They are halfway through a shift when Buck’s emotional house of cards starts to crumble.

Buck is sitting at the dining table in the loft and sipping at his cup of coffee. He casually notices how Eddie’s eyebrows slowly furrow while he stares at his phone.

“Lovely afternoon, isn’t it Buckaroo?” Hen says from his immediate right.

“Oh my go—Hen,” Buck whispers harshly, free hand on his pounding heart, as Hen sits on the chair beside him.

“Anything interesting going on in that head of yours?” Hen asks, in a tone suggesting she already has an idea of the thoughts in Buck’s head.

“Hen,” Buck whispers, pleading. Hen raises an eyebrow at him. Buck sighs. “I know. If that’s what you’re asking, I know.”

Hen nods as a smile takes over her face. “I’m proud of you, Buck.”

“Thanks,” he replies, flashing a small smile in return.

Hen nods, before getting up and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“The last thing he wants to do is hurt you.”

“I know,” Buck responds, despite also knowing that sometimes intentions do not matter.

Buck fumbles with his keys as he tries to unlock his front door. It takes him far longer than it should—maybe he should not have had that final beer—but eventually he gets the right key in the lock and twists it correctly. He leans back against the door once it shuts behind him and gives his vision a second to settle when he flips the lights on.

After relocking the door and throwing his keys in the vague direction of where they should be, Buck stumbles into the kitchen to get a glass of water. All he wants to do right now is crawl up to his bed and pass out until noon, but he learned his lesson last year about hangovers in your thirties. A glass of water is not the miracle solution it was in his early twenties, but it is certainly better than nothing at all.

He collapses on the couch with a groan, glass of water in hand. He drank more than he planned to, which always seems to be the case on his birthday. He did not pay for more than one drink all night, between Maddie and Eddie each buying him a beer and then the multiple rounds of shots for the table courtesy of Chimney and Karen. It was technically his birthday party, but it was also the first time anyone at the 118 had more than one day off in a row, so everyone was letting loose.

In his drunken miscoordination, he manages to knock the coaster off his coffee table when he tries to set his half-drank glass down. He swears under his breath as he reaches down to grab it, opting to keep his head up to keep any nausea at bay and paw around for it without looking. It takes a minute, but he ends up finding the coaster under the table. As he tries to pick it up, his hand also hits paper. He pulls them both up, placing the coaster where it should be and examining the paper.

It is an old ripped-out notebook page that has been folded a couple of times. It is probably just an old grocery list that fell out of his pocket, but he unfolds it anyway. Unsurprisingly, his own handwriting greets him. Surprisingly, it is not a grocery list.

He reads through it again—someone who is happy for me when things go my way, someone who I don’t need to watch my words around, someone who I can goof off with, someone who is there for me even when I can’t be there for myself, someone who I can build a family with—and looks back up. His eyes land on one of the framed photos by his TV, specifically the one of Christopher enthralled by an exhibit at the observatory.

Buck can still remember the conversation he had with Eddie when it was taken a few months ago. Eddie joked that Christopher was going to become an astronomer and Buck rebutted with an astrophysicist. After Buck took the photo, he looked over at Eddie to find him already smiling back.

Someone to build a family with. Is that not what he has already done? From the moment he introduced him to Carla—hell, maybe even when he drove Eddie to pick up Christopher after the earthquake—was he not cementing a place for Eddie and Christopher in his life?

The more Buck thinks about it, the more it all makes sense. All the days and nights he has spent at the Diaz house, to the point where Maddie assumes he will be there instead of his loft. Buck’s first thought about an event coming to the city being whether or not Christopher would like it and if they can go. The extent of Buck’s discomfort while around Ana the few times they were at Eddie’s place together.

Which brings up a new problem. Sure, Eddie and Ana did not work out, but Buck is not the only one who can see Eddie is a catch. It is practically inevitable that he will find someone else; someone who fits better than Ana. If Buck thought being around Ana was uncomfortable, he cannot imagine how he will feel around someone who Eddie actually loves.

So he can play happy little family with them all he likes, but he will be kicked to the curb when Eddie realizes Buck is taking up the space of his hypothetical partner. He knows Eddie will be nice about it—knows Eddie would not intentionally kick him out—but these things are just a consequence of having a serious relationship with someone. No one wants their partner’s best friend crashing on their couch consistently for no apparent reason.

“I don’t want to be playing House my whole life,” Buck says aloud, distress clear in his voice, as his house of cards collapses and scatters all over the floor.

In an odd moment of either sober idiocy or drunken genius, Buck gets up, determined. He knows he is still in the clothes he wore to the bar—which Maddie absolutely spilled a shot on despite her denials—and he probably smells like a distillery too.

He heads upstairs, only stumbling on a few steps, while stripping out of his clothes. He thinks he throws them in the direction of his laundry hamper, but he does not stop to check on his way to the shower. He shivers as the cold water splashes over his shoulders but is thankful for how it clears his head a little.

After a quick wipe down, he steps out and hastily dries off. He throws on some random sweats from his closet—he thinks it is an LAFD hoodie from his probie year and a pair of old sweatpants from a truck stop in New Mexico, but he does not care enough to check. He descends the stairs as fast as he dares in his still-tipsy state and grabs his keys from the floor where he threw them. He locks the door behind him as he is still slipping on his running shoes and calls an Uber.

Thirty minutes later—twenty of which were spent fighting off nausea—Buck gets out of the car and walks up to Bobby’s front door. He knocks twice on the door before remembering they have a doorbell, and then he rings that as well. He is about to ring it again a minute later but stops when he hears someone walking towards the door. It lurches open before Buck can figure out who it might be.

“Who in their right mind—Buck?” Athena says, first scolding and then concerned when she registers who is in front of her. “What’s wrong?”

It is only then that Buck realizes this probably was not his best idea. He has not looked at the time in hours, but considering he left the bar around one in the morning, it is at least two, if not later. This is only further confirmed by Athena answering the door in a robe and slippers.

“Athena, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late,” Buck stutters out as he turns to leave.

“Buck, don’t be ridiculous. It’s 2:30 am”—Buck cringes—“I’m not going to turn you out on the street. Besides, you don’t turn up unannounced at people’s front doors in the middle of the night without reason. Come on in.”

Athena steps back to let him inside. Buck follows head bowed. They descend the stairs to the living room in silence. Athena turns into the kitchen and Buck follows after a moment.

“Do you want anything? Decaf, cup of tea?” Buck looks up to answer but trips over a chair leg on his next step. He does not fall but does wince at the noise. “A glass of water it is.”

“I had one already,” Buck protests feebly. “Really, I just came to talk to Bobby and I didn’t realize it was so late.”

Athena levels him with a look and gets him settled on the couch before handing him a glass of water.

“And I would place good money to say you drank your weight in alcohol tonight. One glass isn’t going to help.” Buck nods and takes the glass silently. “I’ll get you a blanket and you’re welcome to stay the night. As far as I’m aware, Bobby doesn’t have any plans for the morning, so you can talk then.”

“Thank you, Athena,” Buck murmurs meekly, sipping at the water.

Athena rests her hand on Buck’s shoulder as she gets up and leaves the room. A moment later, she returns with a blanket.

As she hands over the blanket, she asks, “Now, do you need a puke bucket?”

Buck takes a moment to assess before shaking his head. “No, I should be fine. Thank you again.”

Athena smiles. “I would say anytime, Buck, but I don’t think either of us wants to repeat this.”

“I can’t say I do,” Buck responds. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Buck.”

Buck wakes up to bright light on his eyelids and a pounding headache. He groans and wriggles slightly in an attempt to orient himself. There is a pillow under his head and another to his right. His knees are hooked over something while his feet dangle. He groans again, bringing a hand over his eyes, and someone chuckles near his feet.

“Good morning, Buck,” Bobby greets softly. Buck groans in response. “There’s water on the table for you, and I’m just about to start breakfast.”

Buck mumbles out some approximation of thanks before squinting his eyes and sitting up. He lands with his elbows on his thighs, leaning forward towards the table. He feels like he should be embarrassed—it has been a while since he woke up with a hangover on any couch but his own—but the pounding in his head steals his concentration. He takes a sip of water, and another, before getting up to go to the bathroom.

Once he has finished drying his hands, he looks at himself in the mirror. He looks like hell. His face is puffy, and his hair is sticking up in every single direction—which serves him right since he fell asleep when it was still damp. He runs his hands under cold water, splashing some on his face and pressing his fingers into his skin to see if it might help. He writes off his hair as a lost cause though; there is no way he can fix that with anything but another shower.

When he makes it back to the living room, he hears sizzling from the kitchen and heads over to investigate, grabbing his water glass on the way. He leans up against the island and watches as Bobby cooks.

“So, I take it things got a little wild after I left?” Bobby asks while flipping the food in the pan.

Buck laughs and then winces at the sound.

“Just a little.”

Bobby had been there for the first round or two, while they were still just sitting at the table chatting. He left, wishing Buck happy birthday again, and soon after Chimney started bringing trays of shots to the table and that is all Buck remembers without the haziness of intoxication.

Bobby hums, amused, and Buck is grateful Bobby has the decency not to laugh outright. Buck watches as he grabs cutlery and two plates, then starts separating the food between the plates.

“No Athena or Harry?” Buck asks.

Bobby shakes his head. “We’ve been intending to take Harry shopping for new shoes recently and Athena said something about wanting to be out of the house for the morning. So, they’re off to the mall and won’t be home for a while. Coffee?”

“No, thank you,” Buck responds, and Bobby picks up the plates and cutlery to bring them over to the table.

They are both silently eating for a few bites before Bobby breaks the silence by asking about a funny story Maddie was recounting last night about her, Buck, and Jee-Yun. They continue to chat idly and, before long, both of their plates are finished. After his last bite, Buck places his cutlery on the plate and pushes it slightly towards the middle of the table, then places his elbows on the table.

Bobby finishes soon after and, after a moment of silence, he turns to Buck. “So, what did you want to talk about? Athena mentioned that’s why you’re here.”

Buck releases a full-body sigh, shoulders rising and falling and then dropping his head into his hands. He does not answer for a handful of seconds.

“I love him, Bobby. I’m in love with him,” Buck eventually gets out, his face still in his palms.

“Eddie,” Bobby states. Buck nods. “What about it?”

Buck lifts his head and looks at Bobby. “What?”

“Is it that it’s Eddie? That he’s a man? I—”

“No,” Buck cuts Bobby off. He continues gentler, “No, it’s not that. I’ve known for months now and probably loved him even longer. It was just—I…” Buck takes a breath before deciding to start from the beginning. “I made a list of what I want in a relationship after my breakup with Taylor, and I realized I was basically just describing Eddie and our relationship. And I don’t want to tell him because friendships always get weird when that happens. But by not telling him, I realized I’m just playing House with him as his substitute partner until he actually finds someone. I don’t want to play House and then be left with nothing in a few years.”

To Buck’s embarrassment, his voice cracks on his final sentence. Bobby, to his credit, does not mention it.

“Are you sure?”

“That he’s going to find someone? Yes. Have you met him? He’s an amazing man. Of course, he will.”

Bobby shakes his head. “No, are you sure things would get weird if you told him?”

“How could they not?” Buck asks, hopeless.

“What about Maddie and Chimney?” Bobby volleys and Buck cannot follow that train of thought right now. When Buck’s only response is a confused look, Bobby continues. “Did they not start as friends? Did Athena and I not start as friends?”

“Yeah, but that was requited.”

“One, you don’t know that yours isn’t. Two, you don’t know if someone feels the same or not until you take that step.”

Buck huffs out a sarcastic laugh. “Schrödinger’s requited love, nice.”

Bobby chuckles, “I guess you could call it that.”

Buck fiddles with the edge of his placemat while he processes everything. Realistically, he knows everything Bobby says is true. Buck has just never been in this situation before—with Taylor, they did not have that strong of a relationship before they started dating; with Ali, it was obvious where they were going from that first meeting after the earthquake; and with Abby, they both knew and it was just a matter of when. Hell, even before he got to LA, anytime a relationship progressed past platonic, it was always casual, always to blow off steam, and they both knew it. He has never had this much to lose before.

Seeming to sense his indecision, Bobby speaks.

“Love is always going to require a huge leap of faith.”

Buck shakes his head. “But it didn’t. It was a bunch of little steps. One after another every day until I looked up from my feet and we were miles from where we started.”

“The leap of faith isn’t always falling for the person.” Bobby smiles. “It can be anything. You’re trusting this person to know you almost as good or better than you know yourself and asking them to stay with you through whatever that might mean. Any lasting love is a series of these leaps throughout your lives, and they all take courage. You’re asking now if you can tell him this and trust that, even if things change, they won’t be for the worst. You’re handing him your heart and saying that you can’t control what he does with it, but asking anyway that he doesn’t drop it or neglect it to get covered in dust.”

Buck stares slack-jawed at Bobby for a moment before looking at his watch. “Can we save the life realizations until noon?”

Bobby laughs. “I’m just saying, love can be terrifying but it’s worth it. At the very least, you can say you tried.”

“So, you’re saying tell him?” Buck clarifies.

“I’m saying that love requires faith and trust. Telling him or not is not my choice to make, Buck. You know Eddie, probably better than anyone else who knows him, and you know how much faith and trust you can put in him—”

“I trust him with everything I have,” Buck blurts out without thinking. Bobby simply tips his head and raises an eyebrow. “Okay, I get it.”

“You two have a solid relationship, I doubt either of you would be willing to throw that away.”

Buck smiles and nods at Bobby. He is slightly overwhelmed and unsure of how to respond, so instead, he starts to gather the plates and stands.

“Thank you,” Buck says earnestly.

“Of course, Buck,” Bobby says as they clear the table.

Once the dishes are in the dishwasher, Buck turns to Bobby.

“Thank you. I know this wasn’t what you expected this morning, but I really appreciate it. I’m gonna get out of your hair, but thank you. Oh, and please tell Athena I’m sorry for bothering her at 2 am.”

Bobby laughs as they make their way to the front door and Buck slips on his shoes.

“I’ll let her know.”

Buck nods with a bashful smile and opens the door to leave. Just after he steps one foot out, he pauses and turns.

“You weren’t surprised when I told you it was Eddie,” Buck states.

“I know you and Eddie, Buck. Not as well as you know each other, but well enough.”

Buck nods and decides to take his chances.

“So, you might know how Eddie feels about—”

“I know nothing for certain,” Bobby says, cutting him off. “And even if I did, none of it is mine to tell. It’s the same as our talk today; if anyone knows, it is because you told them.”

Buck nods in understanding—he should have known Bobby would not say anything—and closes the door behind him.

Buck does not do anything beyond think about Bobby’s insight for a few weeks but makes his decision halfway through September. Christopher had come home from school and was not surprised to see Buck on the couch. He just casually talked about his day at school to Buck. Buck does not want to lose this, and he is done with worrying that he will. He would rather have an outright rejection than a constant question.

Despite this, Buck takes another few days to tell Eddie. He wants to plan what to say, so he does not tell Eddie that night, and they have a shift the day after, so he does not say it then either. He crashes right after their shift, sleeps until mid-afternoon, and cleans his apartment once he has woken up. While he debates cleaning his oven, Buck realizes he can play this procrastination game forever. He grabs his keys and drives to Eddie’s before thinking about it further.

His left leg jitters against the dead pedal the whole ride and his heart hammers louder every mile he gets closer to Eddie. Even with the thundering in his ears and chest, he arrives at the house sooner than he anticipated.

He gets out of the car and knocks on Eddie’s door before he can doubt himself.

“Buck?” Eddie asks when he opens the door a minute later. “It’s 11 pm, is everything okay?”

“Yes, yeah,” Buck gets out, somehow more jittery than he was on the drive over. “Sorry, I know it’s late and I’m not sticking around—”

“You’re always welcome—”

“I know, but not tonight. I just need to tell you something, but it doesn’t need to change anything.”

Oddly, Eddie deflates in his spot by the door. His shoulders slump, his face morphs from concern to resignation, and he looks ten times smaller than he did a second ago.

“Right, yeah,” he murmurs.

Buck’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, but he lets it go for now as he inhales deeply to calm his nerves one last time. He realizes, at that moment, he never did think about what to say and makes a split-second decision between easing into the conversation and diving headfirst.

“I’m in love with you,” he states. It is surprisingly easy to say after the months of agonizing over it. Eddie’s wide eyes jump up to Buck’s. “It doesn’t have to change anything. I’m not expecting you to reciprocate or anything like that. I just needed you to know. I was tired of keeping it to myself and you deserve to know that you’re loved, even if it’s not in the way you expected or return. I—”

“Buck.” Over the course of Buck’s confession, Eddie goes from dejected to shocked to hopeful. He ends up landing on confused and cuts Buck off. “Did you read the note I gave you at the beginning of last shift?”

It takes a moment for Buck to remember, but Eddie did hand him an envelope before their shift and told him to read it after. At the time, Buck assumed it was probably about an information night at Christopher’s school, but they were called out to a five-alarm fire as soon as their shift started and the note had completely slipped Buck’s mind.

“No,” Buck answers honestly. “With the five-alarm… I forgot all about it.”

For the first time since Eddie opened the door, he smiles wider than Buck has ever seen. He laughs under his breath while shaking his head slightly in disbelief. Buck is about to apologize for forgetting about it and ask what on Earth it has to do with their current conversation when Eddie speaks again.

“I was asking you out. Saying how there isn’t anyone better for me than you. Or for Chris. For the both of us. Asking if you would be open to going on a date with me to see if we could work.”

“Oh my god,” Buck says distantly. “I told you I was in love with you before our first date.”

Eddie laughs and pulls Buck closer to him by Buck’s forearm.

“I’ll forgive it,” Eddie says, still laughing slightly. They are close enough that Buck can feel the exhale on his face. “Considering that I’m in love with you too.”

Buck beams at him. In all his overthinking, he never thought he would hear Eddie say that to him. Actually, if he just tilts his head to the right a little, he probably could—

“How do you feel about kissing before the first date?” Buck asks, tilting his head. Eddie’s eyebrows raise.

“The date you still haven’t agreed to?” he asks, tone teasing.

Buck blinks. He was so caught up in the shock and elation of Eddie's revelation that he did not even realize he never agreed. An ecstatic laugh rises out of him.

“Yes, Eddie. A hundred times yes.”

“Hmm,” Eddie hums, happy but also teasing Buck. “Alright, I guess I can be convinced to kiss before the first date.”

Despite his words, Eddie is the one to wind a hand around to the back of Buck’s head and pull him in. They are smiling a little too much for it to be considered a proper kiss, but Buck thinks it is perfect anyway.

[ao3 link]

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

best laid plans, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: It’s the middle of the night. You’re asleep next to your model boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook, who is jacking off while touching your tits. Wait. Hold on a second. What? (He is still your model boyfriend though, even after all that.)

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship; playful banter and shitty jokes; actually low-key crack and fluff; smut (fem reader, m-masturbation, handjob (while sucking on JK’s balls, lucky guy), tiny bit of nipple play and pussy slapping, edging, cowgirl, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS; the parenthesis are the reader’s inner thoughts and i did make a Dynamite lyric reference with JK’s dick and you can’t stop me

yes, the title is a pun, channeling my inner seokjinnie it’s what you think it is and it’s also not

–

Your dreams were always vivid and intense. 

Was it normal to have movie-level, hyperdetailed, sometimes not even involving you or anyone you knew (at least consciously), insane storyline dreams on a constant basis (without medication causing them)? You know, maybe not. You should get that checked out. But not today, because this is not the story about that (you really should get that checked out).

This is the story about you dreaming about your boyfriend jacking off next to asleep you and then realizing it was not a dream. 

At first you were like, man, that sure sounds like Jeon Jungkook breathing hard. Was he working out? Why are you having dreams about Jungkook working out? That's literally the most pointless, mundane dream you could ever have. Also, you weren't seeing anything, just blackness. What was the damn point of this dream you couldn't even look at him?

(To be honest, that’s very rude of you, brain.)

Jungkook always asked you to work out at home with him but, one, he was annoying as fuck to work out with because all he did was stare at you ("oh yeah, my bad for thinking you're sexy, holy shit, what a crime to think my girlfriend and future wife is hot!"); two, you literally had zero motivation to work out (not lazy, just, you know, didn't give a shit and Jungkook called that your great flaw of being his perfect girlfriend – but he loved all your soft bits so he was sending you mixed messages, tsk tsk); and finally, three, it always led up to fucking, so why go through all that trouble hyping yourself up in your leggings and sports bra, only to spend five minutes in them and forty-five doing a whole different kind of workout that didn't require clothes?

Exactly. 

Just skip that shit and get to the naked part. 

Oh, right, back to the whole deep-breathing Jungkook and you seeing darkness thing. 

Sometimes you had dreams with only sound and very little visual. It was disorienting, giving you the feeling of being trapped in a maze with no way out (dream analysts would be all over that shit) and once the images returned, you were usually naked (psychologists would have a field day with that). But this time, you were unmoving. Listening to tense inhale, drawn-out exhale, over and over, and you only recognized it as Jungkook because he did that thing where he sucked on his teeth a little, making that almost inaudible hiss noise. 

You felt heavy, tired, sluggish, as if you were dragging yourself through mud, in between the brink of conscious and subconscious, in that brief moment where you could control the dream but not your body, that little pocket of utopia. You searched for Jungkook in the darkness, curious to find him, and you couldn't, but he seemed to be beside you, to your right, where he usually was when you slept. Next to you, sometimes snoring so you'd have to smack him in the chest and he'd snort and stop (for a hot second, then you'd roll him to his side so at least he wouldn't be snoring in your ear). His pectoral muscles were bigger lately (you hated working out but you sure as hell didn't hate Jungkook working out) and the slapping sound was pretty satisfying now, palm to hard muscle. 

Kind of like the sound right now. 

Wait. 

You weren't slapping Jungkook's pecs.

You furrowed your brows. Huh? Why were you hearing that soft smacking sound over and over, Jungkook's low hiss and then your name in a deep hazy whisper and why was your front cold? You usually slept with only panties, no bra, but you weren't usually cold up top – that's what the linen duvet was for (you paid way too much for that, but you saw it on Instagram and, hey, it's your money, go off) and, to be honest, you used to be a cute pajamas person but, ever since you started living with Jungkook, he wanted you to wear as much as he did when he slept (read: literally only his boxer briefs). Lots of begging (and him being on his knees for you) later, and now it was your habit to strip before sleeping.

Anyway, back to being cold. 

You scrunched up your face and listened to the labored breathing in your right, a hand drifting on your stomach, tracing your bellybutton, moving up, light, delicate touches, the sound of skin on skin. A gentle fingertip brushed your nipple. 

You cracked your eyes open.

There was a tiny bit of light from your computer, the RGB keyboard casting a faint rainbow. You shifted your eyes to your right.

Jungkook's left arm was in an awkward position, softly caressing your nipple as he violently pumped his dick. 

On the bed. 

Underwear gone.

On the floor? Probably. 

He looked pretty damn hard. (Nice.) 

Your eyes floated to his face and his eyes were closed, mouth open, trying not to make any noise, gasping your name. Shapely jaw, soft cheeks, dark lashes, ash blond hair framing his handsome features, so beautiful it was unreal. His head turned towards you and his dark brown eyes slowly opened, purring your name lovingly. 

"Yeah, Jungkook?"

You saw the single blissful second it took for Jungkook's brain to catch up. 

Then he choked.

On air and his dick by squeezing it far too hard in complete and utter shock. 

"HOLY FUCK!"

He yanked his hand back, off your chest (feels bad man) and released his cock, causing it to bounce a little in the air (kind of sexy, not gonna lie), both of them shooting up to cover his rapidly reddening cheeks, one tattooed, one not, his inked right arm tense and his hand glistening with points of pre-cum.

You blinked innocently at him. 

"Oh, shit, fuck, I'm so sorry, um, l–listen," he sputtered, dick still sticking straight up, completely oblivious to Jungkook's embarrassment (ignorance is bliss). "I... I have a good reason, I s-swear."

You rolled onto your side and squished your tits together. Jungkook's brain seemed to implode a little, staring at your squashed breasts and hard nipples like it was the first time (even though you knew he literally sees them at least once a day).

"You're horny?" 

Your voice cracked a little from sleep and you coughed to clear your throat (not sexy, but such is life). 

Jungkook's shaking pupils were too busy staring at your titties. "Y-Yeah, I just woke up randomly horny as fuck, but I know how much you hate having your sleep disturbed so I was just going to edge myself a little... well, maybe finish…"

"You masturbating while touching my tits is not going to disturb me?"

"I... I've done it before..."

???????

???????

"Uh..."

"I don't touch you very much!" Jungkook blurted, grabbing your hands. "P-Please don't be mad! I only touch you a little and always very carefully! I never try to take advantage, I'm just horny, please, please, please don't be mad!"

He grabbed you by the shoulders and hugged you tightly. You grimaced, not because of the hug (Jungkook’s hugs were top tier), but because his hard dick jammed right into your thigh and smeared a giant line of pre-cum onto your skin (a little cold and not nearly as sexy as internet smut stories make it out to be, but maybe that was because you literally woke up to Jungkook jacking off without giving you so much as an invitation, rude). You gasped and retreated a little, but that made Jungkook try to grab you tighter and his cock bent upwards and jabbed you in the lower belly. 

Still leaking everywhere, by the way. 

"Oh shit–"

"Look here Excalibur, I'm not the stone waiting for the king," you winced, swiping your hand across your skin and wiping it on the side of his ass (hey, it's free real estate). Jungkook yelped, letting go of you. 

"Hey!"

"If you're horny, let's fuck, not joust. I don't have the proper equipment for that and I'm not an undercover Lancelot, as dope as that would be."

"I should be turned off by now," Jungkook muttered under his breath (probably cursing your poorly timed King Arthur jokes – you did have a tendency to wear your mind on your sleeve). "But I'm not because, fuck, look at this body..."

His hands were already running all over your skin and, if there was one thing Jungkook had an extra zest for, it was fucking you – all the time, twenty-four seven, rest in peace responsibilities if you ever decided to become a nudist, but thankfully you had self-control (not when it came to terrible jokes at inappropriate times though, that was your vice). However, sleepy you had less self-control and let him do whatever he wanted, running his fingers all over your chest, making you shiver and slide closer to him, rubbing your thigh against his length and he sucked in a breath, whispering your name hotly against your cheek.

"S-Stop, I'm going to get horny..."

"You're already horny," you hummed into his chin, running your fingers through his blond hair, closing your eyes again, listening to his soft moan against your cheek (he always sounded so good, so fucking sexy, it was sinful), your left hand sliding down between you both. his palms pressed into your breasts, squeezing them roughly as you cupped your hand around his length and balls (Jungkook was really warm and your hands were kind of cold, this turned out to be a win-win situation, sweet). You wound your fingers around his length with two fingers hooked around his balls, bouncing them lightly as you rubbed his velvety skin, sighing against his neck.

"Pog."

"Do not Twitch chat talk to my dick," Jungkook muttered. "Also, what kind of weak-ass handjob is this, are you just warming your cold-as-fuck fingers–" (well, shit) "–oh, fuck!"

You gripped his cock with your left hand and buried your fingers in his hair, tongue between your lips as you roughly stroked his length, making Jungkook squirm and gasp above you, jerking back. You kept your hold on him, tighter, feeling him swell and get harder, grinning, your eyes still closed, working him fast and firm.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Jungkook swore repeatedly, pinching your nipples and rolling them between his fingers (damn, he was making you work to keep this smirk on your face, but it was worth), tendrils of pleasure snaking through you. You bit the side of your lip, increasing your pace, squeezing just under the head the way he liked, pre-cum pooling around the pocket of your index finger and thumb, adding lubrication.

"Stop, s-stop, I'm gonna e-explode," Jungkook moaned, planting his hands onto your tits and sinking his fingers in the softness once more (hello? where's the titty love, this ain't all about you, Jungkook). 

"I like dynamite," was you answer, cracking one eye open. "Light it up." 

Jungkook growled in his throat, glaring at you. "I swear to God, if you weren't so fucking hot, I'd be so fucking limp right no–aah, d-don't, oh fuuuck, please..."

You slid down the bed, switching hands, attaching your mouth to his balls (he was probably grateful for that, can't talk with a mouthful of nuts, sad) and put your breasts on his thigh, rubbing your nipples all over his hard muscle as you sucked, starting off slow, then faster and faster, one to the other, tongue all over, Jungkook loudly rambling nonsense above you (you weren't paying attention, you had a dick to jack off and some balls to rearrange with your masterful tongue) until Jungkook squealed at your firm grip on the head, cutting off his orgasm once again.

"Stop edging me," he hissed angrily above you.

You blew a raspberry on his nuts.

"A-ah, fuuuuuuuuck!"

Oh, that turned out to be more pleasurable than either you or Jungkook imagined, because his eyes were gigantic and his hips were furiously humping your hand, but you weren't holding him tight enough for him to cum. You raised your eyebrows at him and Jungkook gave you the most displeased expression he could muster (he looked cute as fuck, a complete fail), ash blond strands clinging to his forehead, nose scrunched up.

"That was for jacking off without me," you tutted.

"You would have gotten pissed if I woke you up to fuck," he pouted.

"I need beauty sleep to be beautiful."

"I hear facials actually help quite a lot."

You burst out laughing and Jungkook followed suit, his rich, full, almost wheezing laugh, until he realized you had swiped a condom from the nightstand (yup, they were casually in a little moon-shaped dish by the bed next to the chap stick and phone charger, says a lot about you two), fitted it on him, and then you sat on his dick.

"W-Wait – oooooooh, fuck!"

You waited a second for your body to adjust, forcefully stretched out by his thick girth, but it wasn't that bad when you were controlling your muscles and expecting it, so you started rocking your hips after the second, sighing in satisfaction. Jungkook's eyes rolled back into his head, his long fingers bunching up on his chest, raising his ass to get deeper with every slap of hips to hips, your body talking to his, heat rising through you, branching out your spine and to your limbs, the best kind of workout (your only workout, be honest here), clenching your core, making Jungkook snap his head back in panic, shaking his head furiously.

"I'm g-gonna cum if you keep going l-like that..."

You leaned down, brushing his hands away and spreading your fingers over his pecs, running your nails over his hard nipples. Jungkook whimpered, chewing on his lip, you turning the tempo from a fast one to a longer, slower, more complete stroke from head to base, soft ass smacking his soft balls. He looked up at you, moaning softly, pupils blown wide, rainbow shadows over his face (damn, he's pretty, eleven out of ten, for sure), gasping your name, his hands finding your forearms and caressing them, eyelashes fluttering.

"O-oh, fuck, p-please... faster... wanna cum... you're so fucking sexy... ah, fuck, wanna cum for you..."

No one could say no to that, especially not you.

You slid your arms down to the bed, right beside his head, and increased the force, intensifying it all, Jungkook's fingers flying up and holding onto your nipples, the sheer wildness of your own pace tugging and pulling on them, your breathing deepening, panting hard, wispy and hot, his name on your lips, pleasure all over, passionately fucking him into the bed, and him jutting his hips back into your soaked walls, throbbing against the tightness, so hot, fire coursing through you, your juices soaking his crotch and balls.

“Jungkook, oh, fuck, yes...”

You squeezed him hard and Jungkook thrust into you with a groan, all hardness and thickness violently burying itself into your overwhelming heat and you moaned lustfully, pussy shuddering around his wonderful cock, feeling it shiver repeatedly, his orgasm filling up the condom so much that you felt the latex stretch inside you, jarring jerks with each of Jungkook's soft cries, his head shoved into the pillows, blond hair fanning out like a halo and practically wearing out your name with how many times he was chanting it.

You reached and held down the condom as you unsheathed (the beast), collapsing against the bed and laying down, wheezing a little, greatly satisfied at your work.

"Boom."

You weakly reached up and mimed a firework with one hand.

"Like dynamite."

"Oh, my fucking God," Jungkook muttered, peeling off the condom and immediately snatching the towel next to the bed (also says a lot about you two) and another condom, yanking off the other one (trash can next to the bed already, again says – never mind, you get it) and cleaning himself off before putting on the new one. "On your back."

You rolled on your back, snickering. "Three parts dynamite, with a nitroglycerin cap–"

Jungkook clapped a hand on your mouth and it smelled a whole lot like his cum. "This is not the time to be quoting the Addams Family, you animal."

You nuzzled out of it, grinning. "I'm just saying I want an orgasm equivalent to blowing up a small house."

"Oh, you'll get it," Jungkook growled, yanking your hips to the center of the bed, pushing your legs up to your chest, almost bending you in half. "You ready?"

You bit your lip, still grinning. "Of course."

One hand left your leg and you were confused for a split second.

The next you were gasping, Jungkook rapidly smacking his hand into your clit and pussy, not hard, but constant, swift smacks that got you wetter and wetter, quivering and struggling for breath.

"J-Jungkook, oh f-fuck, Jungkook..." you whined, fingers digging into the sheets, twisting them, bouncing your hips towards him. He inhaled sharply, fitting his finger onto your clit and raising himself.

"W-wait – oh fuck!"

Jungkook chuckled and thrust into your wet warmth, rubbing your clit at the same time. Your body squirmed, trying to alleviate the sudden high rush of pleasure, but Jungkook was stronger (was this the reason he worked out? no complaints here), his free hand pressing your leg down into your chest, your other leg crammed against his shoulder, his hand snaking in between and stimulating your clit, not having to move because you were moaning helplessly, rutting against him repeatedly, pulsating all around him, so good, so good, throbs of desire against his callused fingertip, eyes rolling back. Hard cock, engorged clit worked into a frenzy, your own hips fucking him back so hard that Jungkook was moaning with you, your name tumbling out from those pink lips.

"Cum for me, fuck, you sound and look so sexy, come on, come on..."

You would have praise for him too if you could breathe, but you couldn't, pleasure so overwhelming that your eyes closed, getting there, getting so close, and Jungkook he kept going until you wailed his name, back arcing, your tits hitting your thighs, forearms taut and straining, lower body lurching towards him and leaking out slick juices all over his crotch and yours, so much so that his finger slipped and his nail nicked your clit, turning your moan into a howl of ecstasy.

"Oh, shit, are you ok–"

You grabbed his hips, ignoring whatever the fuck he was saying, and slammed him down into your pussy, making Jungkook lose his balance and put his hands on the bed, yelping, and you hissing in his face, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please, Jungkook, give me your cock, and Jungkook was saying something but your body gave no fucks, ears mysteriously broken at that specific moment, raising your hips to meet his as he sank down, Jungkook's face scrunching up and his pleas finally reaching your ears.

"H-Hold on, I want to last, stop, stop, stop..."

"Who cares about that, I need dick," was your very impatient response, but Jungkook grabbed your thighs and pinned you down, stopping you and him from moving, you whining and clenching around him.

"This is not p–"

Jungkook immediately fitted his hand over your mouth, narrowing his eyes at you. "No. Bad. Shush."

(How did he know you were going to say 'this is not poggers'?)

You wiggled your ass and Jungkook growled, pulling out and slamming back in, not fast, but powerful, cock getting harder and harder with your whines and cries behind his palm.

"This is what you need," he panted, deep and gravelly, one hand on the bed and one on your mouth, fucking you so hard that your ass was bouncing on the bed, creating a wet spot on the sheets with how drenched you were for Jungkook's lust-filled, husky voice. "Need me to fuck you silent, fuck, you're so tight and wet, come on, cum for me, cum for me, you sexy, sexy woman..."

Your body was already complying, pleasure wrapping all around, body so hot from the fire within, tongue pressed against his palm, moaning lewdly around his fingers as you came again, and he was so hard, fuck, Jungkook was so fucking hard right after he woke up, always, (a fucking mystery and eighth wonder of the world and your pussy was thoroughly investigating), so deep and so thick, your muscles clutching him tight, sucking him back in. His fingers separated a little, loosening his grip, and you heard your needy whimper mildly muffled by his digits.

"You're so good Jungkook, I love you, fuck, I love your cock, Jungkook..."

You looked up into his eyes, at his long hair hanging around his face, jaw clenched, smirking as he saw your gaze, biting the side of his lips in concentration.

"I love you too," he breathed. "You're the sexiest, most beautiful woman in the world."

You clamped around him and Jungkook groaned, eyelids fluttering, grunting as he forcefully thrust into you, your name mixed with a moan as he came again, fully sheathing himself in your quivering, abused heat, warm pulses soothing him and you all over. The sheets stuck to your ass, covered in your sweet-smelling cum.

(Good thing that was on his side of the bed.)

His hand glided up your face, pushing back your hair, shuddering as he rutted into your core a few more times, savoring your tightness.

"You alright, my dude?" you whispered nonchalantly, gasping slightly.

Jungkook cracked one eye open. "Yeah, I'm fucking fantastic, bro."

"Pog-"

Jungkook shoved two fingers into your mouth and you choked a little, pouting around his fingers (you weren't surprised though, you knew it was coming).

"I will whip this dick out and slap you in the face with it."

"That's kinda nasty, but also sounds kinda hot," you gargled around his fingers.

"... You're right. Damn, he's asleep. Shit."

Jungkook pulled his fingers out and wiped them on the towel, frowning as he glanced down.

"Only him and not us, something seems a little inverted here."

Jungkook chuckled and leaned down to kiss you (another reason why he was the perfect partner, still being affectionate, regardless of your loony antics).

"I love you."

-

in which you anger jjk by being annoying - wait, that’s every day well, he still wants to bang you counter point

--

masterpost

[bluboothalassophile]

a one shot you could write is jason being overprotective of raven and her baby belly/unborn child

Hello,

This has been sitting in my inbox for so long. So sorry about that, so I hope you enjoy!

Hands Off!

Jason was not over protective, or unreasonable, but he thought it stupid how everyone seemed to think that a woman being pregnant forfeited her rights to personal space. Or her rights as a whole, because for some reason everyone was more obsessed about the baby in her that needed her to live, than her as a person; but he was digressing.

Agreeing to Lamaze was a no brainer, Jason though wanted to punch a few people’s teeth in, he wanted them to knock it off, because Raven was too polite to say thing contrary, but Jason knew his wife was getting uncomfortable, and she was trying to keep the peace. Jason was well past that, and he was ready to knock a few teeth in, fuck the peace; particularly, Jason was going to knock Dick’s face in. Which he would’ve done on any given basis, any given day given the fact Dickhead was in fact, a bona fide DICKHEAD! Jesus, the guy embodied his name, and there were times Jason was tempted to shave his brother’s perfect hair off his head just to see if there’d be a resemblance between a real dick and Dick.

Anyways, today, Jason was helping Rae pack up from Lamaze classes, she was waiting outside for him, because a mom had said the magic words watermelon, and somehow his demon wife had a spoon on hand for such an occasion. Jason wasn’t going to ask why, no, he stopped asking why regarding anything his very pregnant wife did a while back. Mainly he stopped asking because some of her cravings were… beyond weird; they made Kori look tame, so, yeah; Jason no asky questions!

But walking outside, after having a brief talk with the instructor, and collecting their supplies, Jason walked outside into the Gotham summer to see Raven standing there looking ashen; not her normal gray color, but her ashen human complexion, spoon in her mouth, wide eyes looking at someone for help, whilst a man was cooing and rubbing her belly.

“Hey, hands off buddy!” Jason jerked the asshole back and glared as he saw Raven move, rather awkwardly beside him. Jason saw it was Dick now, and it really had him wanting to implode Dick’s perfect face.

“Huh, oh, hey Jay!” Dick smiled. “And I was just saying hi to my little niece or nephew,” Dick crouched level to Raven’s baby bump, and he shoved his brother upright.

“What do you want dickhead?” he demanded.

“Alfred wanted to invite you and Rae to a family picnic,” Dick said.

“And you couldn’t do that without touching my wife?” Jason demanded.

“Huh?”

“Rae was clearly uncomfortable, and you just have to touch her every time you see her?”

“Jay… Rae doesn’t mind, and that’s my niece or nephew, I wouldn’t harm her…”

“Well Raven does mind, and knock it off!”

“Rae would tell me if she minded.”

“I do mind, no one listens to me,” Raven muttered around her spoon.

“Tell Alfred we’ll be there, but only for Alfred, and stop touching my wife, dickhead!” Jason barked as he started guiding Raven to the car. She was so petite, and her belly so off putting and her center of gravity shot to hell, Luci had even laughed about it. Once she was secure, he kissed her brow as he walked around to the driver’s side and got in.

“Thanks,” Raven sighed as she sat there rubbing her hand over her belly.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

“I’m not a thing, Jason,” she reminded him tiredly.

“No, but that kid in there is mine, and you’re my wife; I won you over, you’re stuck with me,” he smiled.

She laughed a little as she stared out the window. “I do not understand the human need to touch a pregnant belly without permission, nor how my voice, the mother and carrier of this child, is ignored because it’s all about the baby now that they are invading my body.”

“Well, to be fair, we did plan this one,” Jason pointed out.

“I know, but, just because I carry them does not make me less of a person,” she pointed out.

“No, it makes you more, and people forget or ignore that because they have grabby hands,” Jason said softly. “Even my own idiot brother should know better than to just touch you, he got so mad at strangers for touching Babs when she was having Tommy, so I don’t get how he doesn’t see it.”

“Cause he’s got a good heart?”

“Nah, I’m going with he’s a dickhead,” Jason countered. “So how are you and Dantés doing?”

“We are not naming this baby after an Alexander Dumas character, Jason,” she warned. “And Ophelia is doing well.”

“We sure as fuck are not naming them Ophelia, I’m not having them deal with Shakespear jokes,” Jason warned.

“Shakespear is a fantastic writer!”

“Rae, I don’t think he wrote a single play he produced!”

“Not this conspiracy again,” she sighed.

“It’s not a conspiracy! Your grandfather won’t even confirm or deny if he wrote them!”

“I would hardly take Luci’s word to heart!”

“The Devil doesn’t lie, Rae, demons are annoyingly truthful. Also, Ciri is not an Ophelia.”

“The Witcher, Jason? Really?”

“Well… yeah,” he smiled. “I’m Geralt, you’re Yennefer, and that one can be Ciri!”

“I’m not cosplaying the Witcher.”

“Well… there was also that night we conceived her,” he started.

“I was drunk, and in heat, and we were stuck in a different dimension!”

“Exactly! Ciri.”

“We’re not naming Perseus Ciri.”

“Perseus?”

“Yes, the only hero with a ‘happy’ ending, and the most popular modern hero,” she stated.

“I thought of that snivelly, ungrateful Weasley. Perseus is going to be anything else.”

“I like Percy though,” she pouted.

“Not falling for it, and we are not naming any daughter we could have Luci, your grandfather will never let us live it down.”

“He’d love it,” she giggled. “Luci for a girl, Alfred for a boy, either way, named after great grandfather figures between the pair.”

[sesamestreep]

your choice of Tenet characters for 6, "patting the other’s head"

i misread this as “patting the other’s hand” and I’d already written this whole thing by the time I realized my mistake, so I just went with it! 😬

It takes about eight years—that’s total, backwards and forwards, not each way, it’s worth noting—before they’re in a place where it makes sense to recruit Neil. The idea of it sneaks up on him, actually, that it’s finally time. It’s a thing he’s thought about and planned for and (honestly) worried over so much that it doesn’t feel like a real thing he could just decide to do one day. It feels too monumental, like he needs permission from someone else before it could happen. He has a whole network of people, too; he could theoretically ask someone for permission if that’s what he really needs, but he’s the one in charge, in the end. He’s not sure it would be good for morale if he shows any doubt.

Still, it’s weighing on his mind when he goes to have his regular lunch with Sir Michael. He hadn’t truthfully been all that surprised to find that his generous benefactor had actually been in on everything since the beginning—the beginning beginning, that is, which is saying something. He’d done a commendable job of not showing any recognition when Priya had connected them during the Sator case—which was the other beginning, or it was the end, depending on how you look at it—but he hadn’t actually been fresh faced to Sir Michael then. They’d met earlier, in Michael’s case—and later, technically, in his. Once he’d looped back to actually found Tenet in earnest, it had been clear that someone like Sir Michael Crosby would be an asset to them and he'd need to be involved somehow. If the timeline imploded or whatever, he figured they would just have to deal with it. They had so few friends, back then, that the risk was acceptable if it gave them even one more.

The point is this: if there’s anyone he can ask for permission about the Neil question, it’s Sir Michael. He’s not in charge, not by a long shot, but he’s older and significantly wiser and not likely to sugar coat anything. Besides, if you can’t trust someone who’s been knighted, who can you trust?

He lays the whole case out for him while they’re eating. Well, Michael is eating, unbothered and undeterred by business talk as always, while he rambles on for fifteen minutes. It feels like rambling to him, at least, accustomed as he normally is to staying professional and keeping the ends out. When he finishes speaking, he takes a big, obvious deep breath, which would certainly give him away if nothing else that came before it did.

Michael, of course, takes his time thinking it over. “You know as well as I do that you don’t need my permission for this,” he finally says, after he’s taken an introspective sip of his wine and blotted his mouth with a napkin.

“I’m not looking for permission,” he replies, carefully. “I’m looking for…”

“Forgiveness?” Sir Michael supplies, with a knowing look. He’s amused, though. That much is obvious.

He won’t rise to the bait, even though it feels suspiciously like the truth now that he hears it out loud. He feels vaguely embarrassed at the selfishness of what he’s about to do, even though he knows the end and it’s not all bad. Neil is an important piece of the puzzle that ends up saving the world. He said himself that they had good times together—in the past for Neil, but in the future for him. If he doesn’t recruit him, they don’t get those experiences, and they don’t save the world. But recruiting Neil also means sending him, knowingly, to his death, and that feels like a high price to ask for a few years of whatever good times they’re going to have. He doesn’t know what Neil meant by that—we get up to some stuff—but he hopes he does. If he’s being honest with himself, he knew where they were heading from the moment Neil sat down next to him in that club in Mumbai. The timing is the mystery for them, not the end result.

“I need an unbiased opinion,” he finally says, “on the strength of my assessment.”

“Then you’ve come to the wrong place, I’m afraid,” Micheal says, as he casually pops an olive into his mouth.

“How so?”

“I’m completely biased on this matter. You’re terribly good at what you do, my friend, don’t get me wrong, but I worry about you. About your soul. There are more things in life than work!”

“There can’t be,” he replies, immediately, as he shakes his head. “Not with this work. Not for me.”

Sir Michael shrugs, as though he expected nothing less. “You see? This is why I’m going to tell you to recruit Neil!”

“We would recruit him to work for us, so I don’t really see how it would help you, if your goal is to get me to work less.”

“My dear,” Michael says, unimpressed, “I know I have the glow of youth about me, but I was not, in fact, born yesterday.”

He feels his face warm, but he knows from years of practice that his expression remains pointedly neutral. “Point taken,” he murmurs in the direction of his untouched lunch.

Michael reaches across the table to pat his hand gently, allowing the touch to linger for a moment. “As much as I enjoy your company, I don’t think I can go on being your only friend,” he says, with a charming smile. “And all this talk of the end times does put me off my appetite occasionally.”

“Sure it does,” he replies, with an equally affable eye roll. If his eyes feel a little watery as he does it, no one needs to know.

”It’s settled, then,” Michael says, cheerfully, as he withdraws his hand and raises his wine glass in a mock toast.“You’ll go recruit that beautiful young man of yours and we’ll keep trying to avert the apocalypse. Together!”

Against his wishes, he finds himself smiling and he brings his own glass up to clink against Sir Michael’s. “Together,” he agrees.

[bluecookies02]

Dabi x Reader- cûm soaked silk

Summary: You're the league's relatively new addition, during a fight Dabi saves you, immediately catching your attention and clouding your mind. Eventually after a row of success the league organizes a party and Dabi comes over so the two of you can prepare.

Warnings: cum play, creampies ,throatfucking, light alcohol consumption, pinning, panties theft.

/masterlist/

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Here you are once again waking up at 2 in the afternoon. With a quick stretch and desperate grasp for consciousness, you feel the familiar pain of a long night spent gathering supplies and fighting the trash that calls themselves heroes.

Thankfully, it was a night full of victories for the LOV so the pride you feel is stronger than the strain on your tired body. In everything you remember from last night, one moment sticks out so clear that you can't help but blush and let a smile escape the corner of your lips.

"A little danger looks good on you."

That was the most Dabi had said to you since you joined the League. A small-time hero aimed their quirk at you and your heavily scarred teammate was quick to throw you against the nearest wall, his body covering yours. There was nothing but anger in your heart and a lust for blood painted on your face until your eyes met his stunning blues.

All it took was those few words from his all too calm voice and that lazy, lustful look from his heavy-lidded eyes...you were hooked. With a final stretch, you tried to shake him from your mind.

Freshly showered and with coffee in hand, you grabbed your phone off of the nightstand. You skimmed your missed messages to get an idea of the day ahead of you. Nothing unusual. Some blood-soaked selfies from Toga, early morning ramblings from Twice, a short but thoughtful message from Kurogiri thanking you for your efforts last night, and a lackluster message from your boss inviting you to attend a gathering at the LOV hideout for a few drinks and to officially welcome you into the fold.

Well, at least you had something besides a mission to look forward to. You'd been wound so tight for months doing everything you could to help the league and uphold Stain's ideals. You needed tonight. Besides, he might be there. Before you had the chance to shame yourself for letting him back into your thoughts, your phone rang. An unknown number.

You got out a sleepy, half-hearted, "Hello," before you heard it. That honey-coated voice that caused a chill to run the length of your spine before his warmth washed over you.

"I see our crusty leader is throwing you a party. That's quite a surprise. So when are we going?"

Like always, he was so matter of fact. So sure of himself and set in his intentions. As much as his words made you want to melt into the floor, he said a little danger looked good on you, right? Fine. Then you would live dangerously.

You caught your breath before meeting his cool tone with your own subtlely beckoning statement. "Why don't you come over and we'll discuss it over a drink? If you've got my number, I'm sure getting my address should be just as easy for you." He let out a chuckle, wicked and low.

"See you in an hour dollface."

With that, you both hung up. Your heart was going to implode. What had you gotten yourself into? You bit your lip and smiled. It took no time for you to pick out the perfect outfit. No worn-out villain clothes tonight. No. This called for something exceptional.

A little black dress, some thigh high stockings, and the perfect lace lined lingerie would get you more than just a passing glance from the stapled stud you had set your sights on. As you laid the outfit neatly on the edge of your bed, it hit you. "Shit." Your alcohol-fueled stress relief had left your house completely dry. Whatever.

Fashionably late with a bottle in hand seemed better than facing this man without a little liquid courage. A quick text and you were out the door. "Heading out for a bit. Give me 30. Let yourself in and get comfortable."

Getting your address was simple. He was a man on a mission and after last night, he had a hunger. Saving you was the first thing on his mind during yesterday's battle. You were reckless and he could relate to you. A woman with convictions was his weakness. In a world full of fake meaning, your passion was as fiery as his quirk and he wanted more. Needed more of you.

The thoughts that crossed his mind after pinning you to that wall were less than noble. He wanted to feel you, to sink his teeth into your soft flesh. God he hoped you were a fighter behind closed doors too. Maybe he could overpower you.

He wondered if you knew how much you had him worked up and if you were just as desperate for a release as he was. Before he knew it, he was at your front door. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

"Get comfortable? Alright, doll. Let's see what you're all about."

He was surprised upon entering your apartment.

"Pretty classy place for such a reckless fighter. What are you hiding in here, little miss?"

He was eager to get to know you better. He couldn't simply flop onto the couch and kick his feet up. He knew you were more than a simple yet dedicated member of the league. You had dirty little secrets somewhere and he was out to find them. A few unlabeled pill bottles in the bathroom, empty champagne bottles in the kitchen...nothing too out of the normal considering your line of work.

When he finally made his way into your room, it was as well put together as the rest of your flat. He sifted through your nightstands and found...nothing. He let out a little sigh of defeat and sat next to a small pile of clothes on the bed. Running his hands under your pillows in a last ditch effort, he finally found something.

"So you are a naughty girl. You don't disappoint after all."

His wicked smirk was a sight to see as he held your toy in his hand. He had seen these before in a questionable marketplace. So he knew two things for sure; you had taste and he wanted you even more now. He'll make you forget you even own that little toy.

He was praying that this was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to your kinks. He made a mental note and tucked the vibrator back under your pillow.

He moved his attention to the outfit you had delicately placed across the mattress. If that was what you were planning to wear tonight then you knew exactly what you were doing to him. He could imagine the way that tiny dress would hug your curves and tease him with glimpses of all the places of your body he wanted to devour.

The fishnets were a filthy addition and he might let you keep those on while he had his way with you someday. His thoughts continued to spiral and he could feel his growing erection pressing uncomfortably against his jeans.

That's when he saw them. There they were. Those perfect, lacey little panties. His hunger for you hit primal levels as he grabbed your panties off the bed and tugged at the hem with his teeth. His free hand was already rubbing his aching cock through his pants as he imagined sliding those panties over and letting himself inside you.

Oh, the sweet moans you would make. How would his name sound when it rolled off your tongue as you begged for him to wreck you? He knew you wouldn't be back for another 20 minutes and he couldn't hold out any longer.

He made quick work of laying back on your bed and freeing his now rock hard cock from its clothed cage. He grabbed the black silk panties and wrapped them firmly around his base as he began pumping and stroking.

He bit his lower lip at the electric feeling taking him over. He was a man possessed and he would get his release by any means necessary. The veins along his shaft were throbbing as he thought of you all dolled up and desperate for him. He wanted to know how you would look on your knees ready and waiting for him. He could almost feel your hips gripped tightly in his hands as he imagined ruthlessly hammering every inch into you. His deviant thoughts and the feeling of your panties sliding sweetly along his length was an intoxicating combination. His other hand reached for his heavy balls, massaging them, trying his best to spoil himself for the remaining time he had.

All it took was the thought of your pussy gripping and welcoming him inside you with that black lace causing the perfect amount of friction between your swollen lips, clinging desperately for that pathetic amount of friction-... He couldn't help himself. Thick, hot ropes of cum were coating the cotton lining of your panties, his release overflowing and pulling all the way to the base of his cock.

He milked out the last few drops and watched as they soaked into the thin fabric.

Well, this would either get him kicked out of your flat or he would get the confirmation he needed that this overwhelming lust was mutual. All he knew was that he needed a drink.

With perfect timing, you returned home with a bottle in each hand just as he had placed the underwear back onto the bed and got himself situated on the couch as though nothing had happened.

Your heart almost skipped a beat. You assumed he would show up so that was no surprise. What you hadn't planned for was just how good he would look; the track lighting of your apartment showcasing him like a work of art. He looked so comfortable, so natural sprawled out on your furniture. Like he had always belonged there. This was your home but his presence filled the place. Fuck, what you would give for him to fill you instead. Before you could fall even deeper down that rabbit hole of attraction, he greeted you as only he would.

"So are you gonna pour us a drink or are those just for show?"

You felt the heat rise in your face and you could only imagine the color of your cheeks as he let his eyes work their way from the whiskey in your hands to the rest of your body. "Sure thing. Gimme a sec. And I said to get comfortable, not scuff up my table with your big dirty boots, ass." His little laugh was warm and kind despite your attitude. A few drinks, some light conversation, a couple of shared nervous laughs and glances...before you knew it, it was getting late. A nice buzz enveloped you as you excused yourself.

"Not so fast, doll. Where do you think you're going?"

The look in his eyes made you weak. You couldn't tell if it was the slow burn of the whiskey or the equally smoldering quality in his tone that made you blush. "Sorry, blue eyes. I gotta go get ready. You don't want me missing my own welcome party, do you? Behave while I go get dressed," you giggled. That laugh, innocent and a clear give away to your inebriation, was enough to cause his desire to come bubbling over.

He was one sip of whiskey past the point of being calm and he needed you. He quickly made his way behind you, grabbing your hips and leaning in to whisper in your ear...

"You should know by now, behaving is not something I do, hopefully, you can behave like a pretty little thing you are. Now let's get into that cute little room of yours and you're going to get changed. Slip out of those clothes and give me a nice show."

With those words, he gave your neck a few light kisses making sure to let his lips trail your skin before pushing you lightly towards the room. You were a warm mix of goosebumps and giggles. You were going to give this man anything he asked for, do everything that left his mouth before even finishing his sentences.

This was happening and you wondered why it hadn't happened sooner. The look in his eyes was ravenous and you were ready and willing to let him feast. The second you both made your way into the bedroom, your body was against the wall; his own body covering yours once more. This time, however, there was no battle, no rush, and the only dangerous thing in the room was the man staring you down with lust in his eyes and whiskey on his tongue.

You began unbuttoning your blouse and it was as if he couldn't pepper your skin with kisses fast enough. His lips worked every inch that was exposed as you tilted your head back and practically ripped your shirt the rest of the way off. The blouse fell behind you as Dabi's teeth lightly grazed your neck.

His left hand made its way up to the clasp on the front of your bra. He looked down unhooking it with ease as your breath hitched in your lungs. He let his lips and tongue playfully work down from your neck to your now exposed breasts. His bottom lip was about to glide over your nipple when he suddenly stopped and looked at you with that wicked half-smile.

He grabbed your chin and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. His original intention was to make it quick but the two of you were swept away in the burning taste of cheap whiskey and overwhelming desire. His arms wrapped around your waist as your hands softly glided through his hair and over his scarred cheek.

With a final soft bite to your bottom lip, he pulled away. "Is everything okay?" The aura about him had changed to something far more dominant and primal.

"I said put on a show, babe. So let's see it."

He sat back on the bed as he looked over your figure. You couldn't tell if his stare was more anticipatory or predatory but either way, you were soaked and dying for his skin against yours. You turned around and looked back at him with a dark and coy smirk before facing away.

You slid your hands down your body until they made their way to the zipper on the back of your skirt. As the small metal tab fell, Dabi bit his lip and felt something else rise up. You placed your hands on the wall above your head and spread your legs lightly.

You gave your hips a little shake and the skirt fell to the floor. Turning around to face him, you ran your thumbs across your hips and into the waistband of your panties. You teasingly lowered them barely an inch. His eyes lit up. That's when you snapped the band and let the panties back up. Slinking towards him, you placed yourself between his legs with your arms around his neck. "I think you should take these off...Don't want to have all the fun to myself."

"I thought you'd never ask, babe. But you'd look better in these. Why don't we change things up a bit?"

With that, he picked up the little black panties from the outfit laid out on your bed. You blushed. Now you were wondering what else he had seen. As you took them from his hand, you noticed something felt off about them. Your fingers slid across the slick and sticky substance that was still warm. Suddenly it hit you and felt your own temperature rise. "Dabi did you..."

"I said...put them on....go on."

His voice was deceptively calm but inside he was on a one-way track and there was no stopping him tonight. His cock was literally aching to be inside and the thrill of seeing you slide those panties on, getting you nice and coated with his cum before he had even entered you; It drove him right over the edge.You shyly slipped off your panties and began to put the others on. You stopped with them about halfway up. "Babe, I dunno. Is this really...."

"Looks like you need a little help."

Before you could blink, he had come right up to you and pulled the cum soaked panties the rest of the way up. You barely had time to catch your breath and enjoy the feeling of his lips so close to you when he began to run his fingers over your clothed slit and press his still warm fluids closer inside you. When he heard a small moan escape your lips and felt the silk against his fingers go from dampened by his own doing to soaked with your juices, he knew he had you.

He let his fingers slide past the fabric and past your folds trailing his sticky cum along them. He dipped two fingers into your cunt, pushing his cum into you, picking up the gushing out liquid each time it dared to drip out of you.

With just two minutes of that, he was throbbing and you were crying out, begging to feel him inside you, begging to get a fresh coat of cum in your greedy pussy.

"All fours, on the bed...Now."

With a firm slap to your ass, you did just as you were told. Only, he didn't get behind you like you were expecting. No. After quickly undressing himself, he stood before you hard and ready. Your jaw dropped and you were about to tell him how bad you needed it but he grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eyes.

"You're gonna be a good girl and get me nice and wet before I let you feel this cock filling you up and stretching that pretty pink pussy of yours. Do you understand?''

You nodded as he moved his hand to the back of your head and the other to the base of his cock. He guided you forward and you let your tongue gingerly trace the veins of his shaft before wrapping your lips around. With every pulse of his hips, you would play with his tip and graze it with your soft tongue before taking him all the way into the back of your throat.

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back. A few expletives left his lips as you let out soft moans and began to drool, his length becoming a bit too much to handle. Your mouth became a sloppy mess, his cock twitching each time your throat tightened around him. He could feel himself getting warmer and dizzier, the sight of you splattering around his length, your eyes watery and your hands struggling to keep you up made it unbearable for him to hold for much longer.

You can feel the mess dripping onto the sheets as you rub your thighs together.

He slides out of your mouth with a small pop and runs his thumb across your lips glistening with spit. The look you gave each other said enough as you arched your back and he made his way behind you.

His earlier fantasy was becoming a reality as he put one hand firmly on your hip and used the other to slide his tip up and down your warm and aching lips. He let go of both just long enough to grip the sides of your panties and burn them clean off. He yanked away the remaining fabric and lined himself up with your quivering entrance.

"Is this what you want, gorgeous? Hm? Do you need it?"

"Yes! Please Dabi! Fuck! I need it.C'mon.Please." And with your final desperate cries...he did just that. His every inch slid into you just right. His cock twitched as soon as he bottomed out, his hips jerking into you out of instinct.

He was the only man you knew who could pound your pussy so ruthlessly while his hands still explored your body so sweetly. it was intoxicating, addictive. You needed more. You needed him. Despite him holding your hips down, you managed to sway your hips just right, meeting his thrusts one by one.

He watched you gasp and loose balance, dropping on your forearms as you buried your head into the cushion. He admired the way your pussy took him so well, his cock disappearing all the way in and then coming back out. He was hazed, forgetting how much time passed as he plowed in and out of you, the intoxicating rhythm putting a strain on his muscles as he couldn't have it in him to slow down.

You were a teary mess, whines and cries coming from your sore throat as you begged for him to make you cum.

With another hard slap across your ass and more praise for the way you took him so well...that was it. You couldn't take it anymore. He was pounding that spongey spot just right and his hands were sending shivers through you. You couldn't hold back anymore and he could tell. You were clenching down on him as he continued to slide in and out. He grabbed you by the waist, towering over your back as he held your body flush to his.

His pace deep and more meaningful, his cock dragging along your velvety walls that were squeezing him of every drop he had left. The feeling of him throbbing as his warm cum painted your insides white threw you over the edge, your legs shaking as he continued with small ruts into your shivering cunt.

You were breathless, smiling, and spent. To your surprise, so was he. His blue eyes half lidded and his breathing ragged.

He carefully slid out of you and you both fell back into the mattress. After taking a moment to appreciate his sweat sheened body you sheepily asked, "Soooo...about the party...?"

"Yeah, yeah. It was great, wasn't it? Now shut up and come here," he said teasingly, welcoming you into his arms.

You're not sure when you fell asleep with your head on his chest or how you ended up with this man in your bed but you were happy to sleep in that day, your body already hooked on the warmth of his embrace, begging for it to not be just for this one night.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

So that was a wild ride, the backstory about this one is kinda long but i'll keep it as short as possible.

One day this lady jumped into my dm's (a few moths ago) requesting a Dabi x Reader x Overhaul fic.

Hovewer I didn't exactly get to it yet, but we continued talking throughout the months, her mentioning how she would love to start writing but was too scared of messing something up.

So we came up with a rough idea about dabi jerking off in the reader's panties and it went uphill from there!! Drafts and drafts, massages and thirsts we collabed on this and ended up with this little 4k word thing. So taking all of this into consideration, if you liked this spicy fic go give a follow to @issamomma the mentioned lady and a wonderful woman and now my dear friend.

Like,comment and reblog with ideas you might want the two us to collab on again. Hope you loved it and enjoyed it as much as we enjoyed writing it.

___________

requests:closed

commissions:open

Ko-Fi | Patreon 

[magpie-to-the-morning]

Pull the Blinds - Part Three

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4k

Tags: Established Relationship, Journalist reader, no Y/N, Established relationship, Dom!Javi, female reader, unprotected p in v sex (don’t do that), fingering (female receiving), oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, name calling, aftercare

Summary: A failed raid sends Javi spinning, desperate to take the edge off. Luckily for both of you, you’re also in need of something to take your mind off work. This is the third in a series, but they can be read individually.

Huge thank you to @keeper0fthestars​ for the encouragement, brainstorming/co-thirsting, and beta’ing when I couldn’t look at this anymore. Love you babe! 😘

Part One - Part Two - My Masterlist

Read on Ao3

“God damn it,” you slam your folder shut and tear your glasses off to pinch the bridge of your nose. You’ve hit a dead end on this assignment and even taking the day to work from home, all your papers spread out on the kitchen table before you, hasn’t helped. Tension is radiating down your neck and shoulders, lines of stress and pain only worsening the harder you try to force yourself to think through the problem. Pressing a thumb between your brows eases that tension somewhat, and you’re just standing up to take a well-earned break when you hear someone pounding at your door.

You freeze. You’re not expecting anyone. Normally you wouldn’t be so concerned (it’s the middle of the afternoon, after all, and you live in a decent neighborhood), but between your career as an investigative journalist and the drug war tearing Colombia apart at the seams, it never hurts to be cautious. Reaching behind the sofa, you pull out a baseball bat before inching towards the door. The door rattles on its hinges, the knocking louder and more insistent than before. This is no casual visit. 

“Who is it?” Your voice is level, even as your knuckles tighten around the aluminum and you take a deep breath in, out. Your mind is already spinning through potential scenarios- has someone clocked your undercover work, tracked you to your home? Adrenaline surges through you, your body screaming at you to be ready for anything, and you only relax a fraction when you hear a familiar, muffled, “It’s me.”

“Javi?” A glance through the peephole confirms that it is Javi, palms braced against your door jam, his dark brown hair slick with sweat and his green, DEA-issued tactical vest wrapped around his chest. His gun is holstered, hanging from the leather belt slung low around his narrow waist. No immediate danger, then. 

Setting the bat down you open the door, eyes wide with concern. “Everything okay?” You look behind him, expecting to see the street lined with official vehicles and men bristling with guns, but there’s just his Bronco, parked rushed and crooked against the curb. 

Javi’s already brushing past you so you shut the door and follow him. None of this is like him, not the disheveled state of his hair or the sweat-drenched pink shirt clinging to him, and certainly not him barging in, looking like he’s just come from a raid. You get in front of him, taking in his wild eyes, the way he can’t seem to keep still. It’s unnerving, and not doing a damn thing to reassure you that he’s remotely okay or to calm your own racing heart, but you adopt your calmest tone and say “Javier. Talk to me.”

Finally seeming to actually see you, Javi stops pacing for a moment to answer you. “We had them, we fucking had them!” 

You’ve never seen Javi like this. It’s not that he never brings the work home with him- how could he not? You’ve seen him exhausted, worn out from lack of sleep and endless hours spent chasing leads that go nowhere. You know what it’s like when the seeming futility and endless bureaucracy wear him down, seen him stressed and frustrated and devastated by loss. But you’ve never seen him like this- electrified, explosive. It’s all you can do to meet his raw, frayed energy with your own carefully constructed calm. “Slow down. Tell me what happened.”

Javi gives you the gist. Nothing confidential, nothing that would put either of your professional ethics in jealousy, but enough to see the shape of the thing. A raid, weeks in the planning, turned up nothing but an empty warehouse. Someone must have tipped the targets off, warning them before the DEA could spring their trap.

You wince. You know the effort that had gone into it, the countless hours of sifting through transcripts, painstakingly confirming scraps of rumors whispered through hushed calls. Weeks of work, wasted, all gone to ashes in mere moments. No arrests to show for it and worse, a potential leak. Javi’s desperation makes sense to you now. If one of your investigations had imploded this catastrophically you’d be out for blood, too. 

But of course, there’s nothing he can do about it. Not yet. Not until the dust has settled and the analysts can come up with new leads. Until then, Javi just has to sit with the knowledge that his last several weeks of work have been utterly wasted, that the cartel has slipped from their grasp yet again, and are likely laughing their heads off about it from a safe distance, all while plotting their next devastating move. It’s eating him alive.

His story finished, Javi heaves a sigh and scrubs his hands over his face, still coated in a sheen of sweat. Belatedly, he takes in your scattered papers, the chair shoved away from the table where you were working when he burst in. “Shit, you were in the middle of something, sorry. I shouldn’t have burst in on you like this, I just-” he shrugs vaguely, still looking bewildered and only half present.

“Hush.” You lay a hand on his chest, can feel it rising with every heaving breath beneath the solid tac vest, and tip his face up so his eyes meet yours. “What do you need?” 

You’re assuming it’ll be something like ice water or, more likely, a shot of whiskey. Maybe a shower to cool off. He’s got some clothes in a drawer in your bedroom, maybe he’ll feel better if he changes…?

While you’re brainstorming potential solutions, Javi is staring at you with all the intensity of a panther sizing up its next meal. Before the thought can properly register, he surges toward you, so suddenly your back hits the counter, its edge digging into your lower back as his arms surround you. His broad hands clutch at the fabric of your dress, making the skirt ride dangerously high up your thighs. His lips crash against yours, slanting and molding to you as he grabs the back of your head. When you gasp he deepens the kiss, his hand clenching in your hair as he tips your head back, plundering your mouth so aggressively you feel teeth. It’s only after those teeth nip sharply at your bottom lip that he pulls back, his breathing ragged. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not- I should go.” He hunches his shoulders like he’s ashamed to be seen like this and makes for the door. 

Oh. So that’s what he needs. You can picture it now- him bending you over the counter and taking you, hard, right then and there, using you to work the sharp edge off his temper. Just the idea of it, Javi pouring that frustration into fucking you, is thrilling. Besides, turning your brain off for a bit, giving yourself over to all that fury is exactly what you need right now, and he thinks he needs to shield you from that impulse? Hell, no.

You stop him with one touch of your hand. “Don’t go.” Javi’s head jerks up and he stands rigid as you press yourself against him, your hips touching, your hands moving over the taut lines of his arms. “You clearly need to take the edge off.” He hisses as your lips close on his trapezius, your tongue flicking out to taste the salt on his skin. “And I could use a distraction,” you croon. 

“I’m too worked up- I don’t want to hurt you, cariño,” he bites out, even as he looks at you like he could eat you alive and spit out your bones, still hungry for more. 

Javi knows you like it rough. Hell, he’s fucked you through gritted teeth and snarls enough times to know you love it that way. This is different. This is burning rage and rough hands, the difference between training rounds and live fire. 

You want all of it.

Your lips curl in a knowing smile and you straddle his thigh, denim-clad muscle taut against the scrap of cotton separating your bodies beneath your skirt. You grind down on him and meet his burning gaze. “Not even a little?” 

He growls at your challenge, a caged jungle cat, all sleek, bunched muscle and barely checked savagery. He eyes you up and down, assessing, his knuckles tightening against the counter. He runs a thumb over his lower lip and that’s when you know he’s genuinely considering it. You clench and shudder in anticipation, eyes locked on him as he demands “give me your safeword.”

“Javi, you know what it is.” The two of you had chosen it months ago, a reminder of the vacation you’re always meaning to take but never quite get around to.

He leans closer, eyes dark and grin darker. “Remind me,” he rumbles, clutching the edge of the counter he’s got your back up against. 

Your throat bobs as you swallow. He’s so close. You can see the sweat sliding down the planes of his neck, feel the edge of his tac vest digging into you, practically taste the bitter tang of unspent adrenaline. The thrill of the hunt rolls off of him in waves, the livewire burn of his need sparking an answering flare in your blood. You have to lick your lips before answering in a whisper “It’s Aruba.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, his voice the inescapable rumble of an impending landslide. His nose drags against your cheek, his lips ghosting over your jawline. “And you’ll use it if you need to.” He’s no longer asking. He’s telling. 

 “Yes, Javi.”

His teeth close on your earlobe sharply. “Yes, what?”

Another shiver runs through you. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s fucking right.” Without further warning, Javi grabs you by your upper arm and shoves you towards the bedroom. 

Your heart rate spikes, blood thrumming in time with Javi’s heavy tread marching you down the hallway. His grip is fierce, his expression fiercer, and you suddenly wonder what it’s like to go toe to toe with this man, Agent Peña, in the field. For all his honor and dedication to justice, there’s a streak of ruthlessness running through the heart of him, a need to see the mission through to the end, no matter the cost. Javier is a good man, better than he’ll admit to himself, but that darkness is there. Not a flaw, not really. A smoky occlusion in the ruby heart of him, one more facet in the complex matrix of his inner self.

This knowledge isn’t new to you, but Javi letting you see it firsthand is. It doesn’t scare you. Nothing about him ever could. You trust him, know him, too well for that. No, you’re honored that Javi is willing to show you the jagged edges of himself, to trust you to handle these broken pieces without either of you winding up bloodied.

As you step through the doorway to your bedroom, Javi pushes you towards the bed. “Strip.” His eyes rake over you hungrily, devouring every new bit of skin you reveal as you obey, dropping one garment after another on the floor of your bedroom. He watches, arms folded, still fully clothed, still wearing that tac vest that shorts your brain out. In no time you’re completely naked before him, your body on full display in the afternoon sun streaming through the windows, but he makes no move to undress. He sits in the middle of your bed, leaning his back against the headboard like he owns the place and crooks his finger at you. You crawl to him on hands and knees, letting him pull you into his lap.

“Tell me what you want, querida.” His voice is low and sweet, amber honey dripping into your ear while he noses at your cheek, the deep rumble of his voice reverberating through you. Fuck if that voice doesn’t go straight your cunt.

You squirm in his lap, shifting to straddle his waist, your naked sex molded to the bulge swelling beneath his tight jeans. “I want you to fuck me, Javi. Let me help you get rid of all that tension.” You reach up, start kneading his shoulders, but he tsks and pushes your hands aside.

“Not yet. Not until you’re ready.”

You jut out your lip in a mock pout. He’s the one who pounded on your door, amped up and aching, so it hardly seems fair that he’s turned the tables on you this easily, and yet... 

You’d expected him to take you quickly, to burn through you wildfire fast, but now that he’s got you where he wants you he’s intent on breaking you down slowly. 

Your fingers curl over the edge of his vest, clinging to him while he kisses you breathless. He’s in complete control, every gasp and jut of your hips unfolding at his urging. He tastes every part of you, his teeth closing over pulse points, tongue flicking over every dip and hollow of your body. You lose all sense of time when he reaches your breasts, drowning in sensation, only pulled back to the present when he pinches a nipple or bites down on the full moon swell of your breast. 

He leaves marks as he goes, livid reminders of his claiming every inch of you. You submit to all of it, your fingers scrabbling for purchase over the expanse of that heavy vest as Javi bears down on you. Heat is building in you with every bite and suck and caress, but your body is screaming out for more, more, more. It’s then that it finally hits you- the bastard is doing this deliberately. He wants you as keyed up as he is. That realization pitches you headlong into the blaze he’s been stoking all along and you moan, desperate for more. 

He indulges you, still painfully slowly, more fuel for the fire raging in both of you. Reaching down between you, he drags his fingers over your thighs, already slick with the desire dripping from you. “Christ, you’re so wet from just this. You like letting me do this, don’t you? Getting so worked up being my good little slut.” 

You gasp and nod, whimpering now that he’s so close to where you need him but still not quite there. He rewards you by finally pressing those thick, clever trigger fingers against your weeping cunt. He moves in slow, torturous circles, and you reach for him, try to kiss him, to beg wordlessly for more. He pulls away, chuckling at your eagerness. “No. Let me do this for you.” 

He knows damn well what he’s doing, pushing you to see when you’ll get impatient. You try to wait him out but forget yourself when he slips one finger into the molten clutch of your sex. It’s so good but you need more. “Please,” you murmur, moving to kiss him once more, your hand dropping between you, needing to feel him. Besides, a wicked, wanton part of you wonders what he’ll do if you disobey him like this. 

Your answer comes swiftly. Javi flips you onto your back with a snarl, one hand behind your head to cushion the sudden move. Grabbing your wrists in one hand, he hauls them above your head, pinning you in place. “What did I tell you? Hold still!” He slaps your pussy once, twice, three times in rapid fire succession, each hit harder than the last, leaving you stinging and aching for more. You moan and writhe in his hold, rubbing your thighs together, desperate for some kind of release. 

Javi watches you mercilessly. “Yeah, you like that? Filthy thing. Want me to do it again?” Your toes curl and he takes that as your answer, delivering one more slap to your cunt. He leaves his hand there, tracing slow, deliberate circles around your clit. The sudden tenderness, the tantalizing possibility of finally gaining some relief has you practically sobbing.  

“You gonna be a good girl and keep those hands to yourself?”

“Y-yes, Javi.” 

He pulls his hand away at once and you whimper, realizing your mistake as his expression darkens. “I know I didn’t just hear you forget your manners.”

“Sir,” you correct yourself quickly. “I meant, yes sir.” 

“That’s what I thought.” You know from experience that he loves this, temporarily reducing you to a pleading, pliant mess. He knows the trust this requires, and the way it frees you to give yourself over to pleasure completely. It’s a responsibility he never takes lightly. He always knows just how far to push, what boundaries to test or limits to prod, knowing that’s half the fun. As for the other half...

He works you open, one thumb on your clit, his fingers probing deeper and deeper inside you. Your breath hitches when he’s knuckle-deep, massaging that spot that makes you clench and shudder. He gets you off like this more times than you can count, sending waves of pleasure rippling through you from your curled toes to your tingling scalp. He strokes you and finger fucks you for what feels like an eternity, all the whole whispering sweet filth into your ear. Dark promises of how he intends to take you, to use you, all without filling you the way he knows you crave.

“Please, please fuck me. I need you so bad baby, I don’t think I have another one in me like this.” He’s made you cum so many times you’ve lost count, worked your clit until you’re completely over stimulated and begging for mercy. 

He has none. Instead of giving in, he delivers another harsh smack to your abused cunt. “Tell me who owns this pretty pussy.” 

“You do, Javi, please...” 

“Then give me one more.” He spits and you feel it land, slipping over your swollen folds. It’s lewd and obscene and forgotten the instant Javi lowers his head and licks the sting of the latest slap away. His broad tongue works you mercilessly, ripping another shuddering cry of his name from your lips as he brings you to the edge and shoves you over it once again.

“Get on your knees.” He makes you wait, arms trembling, pussy drenched and waiting while he gets up to undress. He misses nothing, clocking the instant when you clench, your throat bobbing, as he unbuckles his leather belt. Javi quirks an eyebrow and, folding it in half, he swats it once, hard enough to be loud but not enough to truly hurt, against your ass. An experiment more than anything else. You let slip a filthy moan, confirming his suspicion that you truly are this comfortable with rougher treatment. 

“Maybe next time, querida,” Javi chuckles. He tosses the belt aside, along with those tight jeans and every other bit of clothing, rejoining you on the bed. He takes his place behind you, hands clutching your hips as he teases your entrance with the fat head of his cock. You can feel how hard he is, the length of him like steel as he pushes himself lazily against your folds. It’s more agonizing buildup, and even when he finally, finally starts to fuck you, he does it with just the tip of his cock, thrusting shallowly, enough to make you clench without being filled. It’s torture. You try to push your hips back to take him deeper, but his firm grip holds you motionless.

“Something the matter, baby?”

You grit your teeth. If he doesn’t fuck you properly right the fuck now you might actually combust. “I need more Javi, please,” you beg. 

“Yeah, think you can take it?” 

Your only response is a desperate whine, met with a harsh chuckle. “You asked for it.” 

He shoves himself inside you in one savage thrust. Even with all of his teasing, the orgasms he’s already pulled from you, and the slick practically dripping from your swollen pussy, it’s a shock. You gasp, his thick cock plunging into you with a filthy squelch, and the sudden overwhelming fullness forces another climax from you without warning. You clamp around him and cry out, barely even registering the flood of wetness practically squirting from you, soaking the rough curls at the base of Javi’s cock. 

“Fuck that’s it,” he groans. “That’s my good - fucking - girl.” He thrusts into you in time with his words, working you through the sudden orgasm. As if your release was some sort of signal, this is the moment when Javi finally lets the leash of his control slip, fucking you like a man possessed. His hands grabbing your hips hard enough to bruise, he pulls you onto him as his hips slap against you, setting a brutal, punishing pace. 

You’re dimly aware that the harder the fucks you, the more your body slips against the sheets and away from him. Frustrated, Javi shifts his grip, pulling you up, your back flush against his chest and his arms bands of steel around your breasts. His breath is ragged in your ear and even when his teeth close on your shoulder, it does little to muffle his harsh grunts. 

Time slips away again and all you know is the bone-rattling ferocity of Javi fucking you like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. You’re so overwhelmed with pleasure you hardly know when one orgasm rolls into the next, all you know is that Javi has you in a death grip and you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Finally, through a haze of sweat and bliss, you feel him stiffen behind you, his hips stuttering and a strangled groan escaping him as he drops his head to your shoulder, his cock spitting deep inside you. You bury your hand in his hair, mutter soothing nonsense as he spills himself into you. When he finally stills, the two of you collapse into a heap on the bed, his body a comforting weight on yours.

You lay there, in a sweaty, blissed out tangle for several minutes, both trying to catch your breath. Javi recovers first, rolling off of you and gathering you into his arms. He pushes the hair from your eyes, his own going concerned when you’re still too boneless to respond to him calling your name.

Giving you some time to recover, he gets the arnica gel from your nightstand and is already smoothing it over the livid marks on your hips when you come back to yourself enough to speak.

“Mm, feels good,” you slur, rolling onto your side to give him better access. You’d introduced him to this particular remedy when he’d shown up with bruises after a particularly difficult arrest, and it had quickly become a favorite aftercare ritual whenever things turned rough in bed. Javi’s thick fingers glide soothingly over every ache and sting, though you catch his wrist when he moves to smooth the gel over the bite marks he left on your breasts. 

“Oh, baby, was I too rough here?” His eyes are soft with concern and the beginnings of apology, so you’re quick to shake your head no. You roll closer and brush away the sweat-slick curls threatening to hide his face. 

“It’s not that, Javi. I just… kind of like seeing the marks. The gel makes them heal faster, so leave a few for me, would you?” 

He kisses you. “Ok, wild thing,” he says affectionately. “Give me your wrists though, unless you want everyone at your office seeing what I did to you.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” you tease, but offer him your wrists nonetheless. He’s so gentle, cradling the back of your hand in his own massive palm, his fingers rubbing the gel into your wrist in slow, circular strokes. When he’s finished, he raises your hands to kiss your palms, eyes locked on yours with an intensity that makes you melt. 

“C’mere, baby.” Javi pulls you to lay on top of him, running his hands over your hair and pressing kisses to your face. “You good?”

It’s sweet, the way he fusses like this after having just taken you entirely apart, soothing you with the same single-minded determination he brings to every other part of his life, and you bask in the glow of his care. “Yeah Javi, I’m perfect.”

Javi huffs out a laugh at that. “I'll say.”

You shift in his arms to get a better look at him. He seems more like himself now, less agitated, more present. “Feeling better?”

“Much. I feel like I could sleep for a week.” He drops a kiss to the crown of your head and breathes out. You can feel his body relaxing as he does it, proof that he’s telling the truth. 

“Sleep then, I’m sure you need it.” He nods, his breathing already turning slow and even as he drifts towards rest. You close your eyes, about to join him when the solution to your work problem flashes through your mind, clear as day. As soon as you’re sure Javi has drifted off, you slip out of bed and back to work. 

Maybe you both could use that vacation after all…

[captain-josslett]

Broken Melody - Part Thirty Three

Masterlist

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 8.8k+ (DANG IT! I tried not writing as much... Ah well.)

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, PTSD moments, smut...ish more mentions of?

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers x Sam Arias

This Part: A week before the surgery and Emma sees Alistair for an appointment.

Ek! So close! Please, please, please, let me know you thoughts and opinions. I literally have no anons 😅 @aznblossom thank you for always leaving a comment!

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated. Please! I like knowing your thoughts.

Taglist: @finleyfray, @life-is-hella-unfair, @natasha-danvers, @supergirl-writingz, @camslightstories, @thinking1bee, @aznblossom

A Week Before The Surgery

Emma’s feet pound the pavement as she runs along the waterfront by the city, with Robyn’s partly completely album blaring in her ears.

Emma can’t help but feel pride with how good everything sounds as she passes unsuspecting members of the public. Weaving around the couples and families going for a gentle stroll in the warm April, Saturday sun.

Her face starts to feel slightly uncomfortable from the sweat rolling down her face. The face modifier causing a strange sensation and a tightness due to her heated skin. After finding this happening whenever she exercises with the modifier on, Winn and Brainy decide to develop a new model, one that will  hopefully be more lightweight and comfortable for the wearer. Including more options and will be able to change the wearer's hair and colour.

But, Emma hopes the time will come soon where Lucy gives her the go ahead where she won’t have to wear it anymore. By Doctor Hamilton’s assessment it should be another month or two before that can happen.

Emma had ventured out without it on, but that was under Lucy’s strict orders and guidance. The lawyer had organised a little outing where Emma sat in a wheelchair with a nasal cannula, giving the impression she was getting oxygen and sat with her sisters at Noonan’s. Bruises and prosthetics were applied around her face and neck to create the illusion that Emma was still healing.

Emma did query whether it would be a good idea but she had been reassured it was. Emma even asked if she still needed the prosthetics but Doctor Hamilton explained that with the severity of the trauma done to her body, she suspects the swelling would have stayed around longer than normal.

As soon as Alex rolled Emma through the restaurant's doors it spread like wildfire that Emma was out in public. Social Media lapped it up and soon a crowd of paparazzi, well wishers and fans gathered outside the restaurant. Emma stiffly waved and played her part but was grateful when they left and she could get rid of the itchy makeup and prosthetics.

Lena was meant to have joined them at the outing, but per usual, Lena had been too busy to attend.

Emma lets out a heavy breath as her heart clenches at the thought of her girlfriend. The Sunday after Nia’s party had been utter bliss with Emma waking up in Lena’s arms. The raven haired beauty had already been awake and kissed Emma’s forehead as she greeted her. The couple then laid there for a while, planting soft kisses on each other's lips until Emma needed to pee. The blonde had come back expecting Lena would want to start the day. However the raven haired beauty had not moved.

“Didn’t you mention about spending the whole day in bed?” Lena asked in a husky voice, dripping in sex. She pulled the covers back and revealed she had removed her pajamas.

Emma didn’t hesitate in flinging off her own clothing and jumping right back into bed. That day had been magical while they moved as one, the feeling of-

Her watch bleeps, pulling Emma out of her thoughts and alerting her to another mile she’s completed and calculating what her pace is. She glances down at it to check but notices the time instead, her eyes widen and immediately she turns towards Alistair's office.

‘Shit! Shit! Shit!’ Emma screams in her head as she starts running faster and berates herself for being in her own little world. Not realising she had gone further then she originally planned.

Currently she was twenty minutes away from Alistair’s office and her appointment was in ten minutes. She’s going to be late and Emma hates being late. The blonde pumps her arms and wishes she could call out for people to move or apologies when she makes people jump as she sprints past.

Finally Alistair’s building comes into view but Emma doesn’t slow down until she slides in front of the building's door and presses the buzzer four times to alert the alien she has arrived.

“Come on up Emma!” Alistair’s warm voice calls through the speaker and the buzzing of the lock follows, allowing Emma to push the door open.

The blonde races up the stairs two at a time, putting her wireless headphones in their case and turns into the hallway towards Alistair’s office door. Finding that the red headed alien was already standing in the doorway and gently smiling at her.

‘I’m so, so sorry! I’m so late! Time got away from me and-’ Emma’s mind screams out as she quickly approaches the therapist, automatically reaching up and deactivating the modifier.

“Emma, it's okay! You’re actually right on time!”

The blonde halts and frowns, immediately lifting her arm up to look at her watch. She notices the running app is still on and quickly ends the session before looking at the time.

Alistair was correct… She was right on time.

‘Huh… I must have read it wrong.’ Emma muses as she tries to visualise what she saw as she was running.

“Possibly.” Alistair agrees and moves out of the way to let her in.

As soon as she enters the office the patter of paws makes her look up from her watch as Lily excitedly trots over to her.

‘Lily!’ Emma drops to her knees and affectionately strokes under Lily’s chin. The snowy white german shepherd greets her in kind with many licks to her face and arms, lapping up the light sheen of sweat covering them, causing Emma to release a few voiceless laughs.

“She’s always happy to see you.” Alistair says cheerfully and moves towards his chair, motioning for Emma to sit on the sofa.

Straightening up Emma makes her way over with Lily right beside her.

“The water is for you as well. Did you have a good run?” Alistair asks, as Emma sits down, takes her trainers off and sits crossed legged. Lily instantly hops onto the sofa next to her and rests her head on the blonde’s lap.

Emma glances at the coffee table in front of her, on it was a box of tissues, a few books and a glass of water with a lemon slice and a few cubes of ice.

‘Thank you and yes it was good.’ Emma thinks gratefully as she carefully leans forward to get the glass, not wanting to jostle Lily too much. Seeing this, Alistair helps by getting the glass first and holding it out for Emma to take.

“Great and thank you for being willing to move your appointment to today. I am sorry about having to rearrange our time together.” Alistair says sincerely.

‘It’s okay.’ Emma shrugs, she normally sees Alistair during the week. ‘Not like I had much planned for today anyway.’ A small twinge hits Emma’s heart.

“Okay, how’s the last few days been?” Alistair asks as he leans back against the leather armchair and studies her. Emma takes a few gulps of the cool water as she thinks.

‘Yea, it wasn't too bad.’ Memories of the week flashes through her mind, who she saw, the smells, her heart clenching whenever she’d wake up in an empty apartment-

“Ah, I take it Lena is still working a lot?” Alistair asks with a sympathetic smile.

‘Yea.’ Emma answers softly in her mind, her shoulders slump and Lily licks her hand, making the blonde slowly stroke her head. ‘I understand these new investors are important, I know how important her work is but-’ Emma stops her thoughts and looks out of the window at the sea in the distance.

“You miss her.” Alistair finishes for her and Emma lowers her head.

‘Yea.’ Emma thinks weakly and can’t help but visualise their early relationship. How excited Emma was to get back to her hotel room to spend some time with her girlfriend, no matter how exhausted she felt after a gig. ‘I love her so much, I’d give my life for her but I just miss what we had when she wasn’t so busy. I mean we made it work when I was on tour and I’d call her even with the different time zones and it would be early in the morning for me.’

“That is understandable.” Alistair comments as he rests a finger beside his cheek as he ponders what Emma revealed. “You have both been through some major changes. Has she given you a time frame for when things look to be getting back to normal?”

-- -- --

During the week - Lena and Emma’s apartment

Emma checks her phone for the umpteenth time as she gets ready for Lena. On Sunday they had planned to have a date during the week and go out for dinner. Something they haven’t been able to do recently.

Emma voicelessly sighs while putting the finishing touches on her makeup, thankful that her hard work transfers through the modified face.

Standing up from the dressing table the blonde heads towards the walk-in wardrobe and takes the dress, she had spent hours deciding on, off the hanger. The dress was teal coloured, elegantly pleated and Emma had fallen in love with it as soon as she saw it. Also finding she was loving the dress even more when she zipped herself up and admired the way it hugged her toned body. She then steps into her trusted black high heeled shoes and opens her jewelry box.

For a moment she looks for her layered necklace her sisters got her. Only to feel a devastating pang when she remembers Kara crushed it.

‘No… Not Kara.’ Emma shakes her head and closes the lid. She heads out into the living area and glances at her phone again.

No new messages from Lena.

Emma flops onto the sofa, ignoring the dull ache in her head that hasn’t disappeared since leaving the DEO. Naturally when anyone asks her about it the blonde shrugs it off, not wanting to worry her friends and family anymore then she already has.

Laying down on the sofa Emma opens her phone and scrolls through social media to pass the time. She yawns and starts to feel her eyes grow heavy and eventually they close as she falls into a deep sleep.

So deep that even when the apartment door opens and closes, Emma doesn’t stir. Or when heeled shoes click over to her.

What does wake her up is a hand gently shaking her shoulder. Emma jumps, her eyes fly open as she takes a sharp intake of breath.

“Sorry love.” Lena apologises softly and strokes Emma’s cheek with the back of her fingers.

Emma nuzzles her face into Lena’s hand and kisses it before sitting up. Which causes her to become face to face with the raven haired beauty as Lena sat next to the sleeping blonde.

Emma smiles and goes to kiss Lena, until she sees the time on the oven clock. Her eyes widen and she pulls back.

“Em?” Lena pouts at the halted kiss.

“The reservation! We’re late.” Emma moves to jump off the sofa but Lena places a hand on her shoulder, halting her movements.

“I cancelled it.” Lena says hesitantly and Emma blinks at her. “I’m sorry, it got so late and you weren’t answering your phone and-”

Emma places a finger on Lena’s lips, sensing the rising guilt and panic in her girlfriend. Reaching out she unlocks her phone, noticing the messages but instead goes into Hope’s app and turns the lights up from a soft glow.

Lena’s eyes squint at the sudden light and Emma studies her properly.

Despite the make up Lena was wearing, Emma can see the dark circles under her tired, reddened eyes. Emma opens her arms and Lena immediately falls into the hug and kisses her cheek. Slowly Emma leans back into the corner of the sofa, pulling Lena up with her.

“Emma!” Lena giggles and Emma feels Lena settle on top of her and snuggles in. The blonde slowly rubs circles into her girlfriend’s back and eventually feels Lena twitch, signalling she’s fallen asleep.

Carefully grabbing her phone, Emma opens UberEats and decides to get Lena’s favourite food. Seeing that it will be delivered in half an hour, Emma rests her head back against the cushions and enjoys the feeling of holding her girlfriend. Grateful that even though they haven’t gone out on a date, Lena has still come home and given Emma this time with her.

When the food arrives Emma carefully lifts the snoozing CEO off her and quietly runs to the door. But no matter how careful Emma is at keeping quiet, when she turns around Lena is sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

“Em?” Lena’s husky voice calls out.

Emma lets out a huff of frustration as she wants to tell her dinner is ready. She wants to speak the words of love she is longing to say.

Instead Emma strides over to the sofa and places the bag on the coffee table.

“Hmm, you know me so well.” Lena smirks at the sight of the logo on the bag.

The couple settle on the sofa and listen to a playlist of soft acoustic music as they eat.

“I-” Lena starts and hesitates. Turning her head Emma gazes into regretful green eyes and watches Lena swallow before she continues. “I just want to apologise for ruining our date tonight. Time just got away from me and… there's no excuse.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it's not.” Lena tries to implore Emma to listen. “Just- this won’t be forever. I promise you that. I’m taking time off for the surgery and afterwards to look after you. It’s one of the reasons I’ve been working nonstop, so my sole focus will be on you.” She reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Emma’s ear.

Emma beams at her, taking Lena’s hand and kisses it.

“What have you been working on?” Emma asks and Lena explains the many projects she’s been developing with the investors and her team. Emma’s eyes widen at how complex it all sounds and nods along.

Soon they finish their meal and despite how tired they both are, they head to bed for a different reason than sleep.

-- -- --

Emma comes out of the memory before she shows anything risque to her therapist. But she cannot help but smile softly at the feeling of Lena’s arms wrapped around her.

“Interesting. So there wasn’t a set time frame, just that it won’t be forever?”

‘Yea.’ Emma looks down and runs her fingers smoothly through Lily’s fur.

“Have you tried asking Lena further?”

‘She apologises and says the same thing she’s been saying for a while. Now isn’t forever.’

Alistair nods and looks down at his notes as he jots down a few more. “How are you sleeping?”

Emma hesitates, causing Alistair to look back up at her. Feeling an unease emit from the blonde.

“Emma?” Alistair asks, his eyes imploring her to be truthful with him.

‘I haven’t been sleeping well. I’m finding I-’ Emma pauses, not wanting to admit what's been happening. Taking a deep breath her mind shows him instead. Horrible nightmares that have Emma jumping awake in a panic, drenched in sweat, only to find she is alone in bed.

“You’re still experiencing nightmares?”

Emma nods.

“More than usual, less or about the same?”

‘I-’ Emma lifts her head as she tries to remember. ‘It feels about the same.’

“Okay, that is something that we will still work on and honestly I’m not surprised you are still having them.” Alistair says compassionately, trying to help Emma see she is doing nothing wrong.

“What about your sisters? How are things going with them?”

‘It’s going well. Things almost feel back to normal.’

Emma’s mind brings up the memories of Alex chasing her around the beach, laughing as she tries to catch her until she finally jumps on Emma’s back.

And memories of Kara come forward where she’d fly into the apartment bearing gifts of Emma’s favourite food, like Cadbury chocolates from the UK. The pair would snuggle up on the sofa and watch a film while they gorge on the treats.

‘I know she still feels guilty, but she doesn’t flinch when we hug or touch anymore.’

“That's a good improvement for sure. But it seems Kara is still not as open as Alex yet?” Alistair enquiries, causing Emma to pause as she reflects.

‘No?’ She answers unsure. ‘I mean, Alex still holds back in certain areas. I still catch her looking at me with such a sad expression. They both do.’ Emma plays with her hands as her sisters’ mournful faces fill her mind, that is until Lily nuzzles her nose into her fiddling hands, allowing Emma to stroke her instead. ‘Maybe it's due to Kara’s trauma?’

“Most likely.” Alistair nods in agreement. “The thing is, each of us are different, we have different likes, different dislikes and our brains are wired uniquely. Therefore we can react differently to the same events, depending on who we are.”

Emma nods and rests her head against the back of the sofa as she thinks. ‘That makes sense. So, for Alex, she has trained to be a soldier, her natural instinct is to fight and follow orders. To lead and protect. But for Kara she grew up on another planet, with a particular upbringing, she witnessed that planet being destroyed, all she had known, gone in an instant.’ Emma’s heart pangs in sympathy, remembering how shell shocked Kara had been when Clark brought her to the Danvers. A new family and a new way of life. ‘She had to be so careful, even when walking, to not put her foot through the floorboards or hurt any of us.’

“Like a god among mortals.” Alistair nods in agreement. “From what you’ve told me before, it sounds like fear was instilled in her as soon as she arrived, that she could easily hurt anyone she came in contact with.”

Emma nods.

“So, Kara broke that promise when she hurt you-” Emma immediately interrupts in her mind but Alistair holds his hand up, halting her. “To Kara, she did hurt you and I know you keep repeating that she didn’t, but from Kara’s point of view it was her hand that crushed your neck and broke your bones. She hurt someone she cares deeply about and using the powers she had sworn would protect people.”

Emma lowers her head and pinches the bridge of her nose. Feeling the pounding in her head intensify.

“Like Supergirl, you can’t protect and save everyone.” Alistair says softly, imploring for Emma to understand.

‘I know.’ Emma admits sadly, she feels Lily move and nuzzle her head against Emma’s cheek, as if sensing her pain.

The pair sit in silence for a while. The ticking of the clock being the only noise in the room.

“How are you feeling about the surgery next week?” Alistair looks up at the clock. “You’d have just gone into the theatre.”

‘Honestly, I can’t wait for it.’ Emma thinks softly and the familiar sense of butterflies start fluttering around her stomach.

“How are you feeling about that?”

‘Nervous. Excited. Terrified.’

“Terrified? About the procedure?”

Emma hesitates. Lily, seemingly sensing her tension, lovingly licks Emma’s cheek and nuzzles her head into Emma’s hand. Causing Emma to continue stroking her.

“Emma?”

‘I am terrified about the operation not working, that it's going to make things bad again.’

“How so?”

‘It seems to be a constant reminder when I have to sign or when I go to laugh or make any noise, but all that comes out is breath.’ Emma thinks mournfully and glances out the window, memories of her sisters’ guarded eyes fill her mind. ‘I know this will take time before things can go back to normal. I just don’t want the progress we’ve made to be destroyed because the op didn’t work.’

“And if that happens?”

Emma’s stomach drops at the thought. But her mind focuses on those around her. Her family, friends and Lena. How would they react?

“Emma.” Alistair softly sighs, placing his book on the coffee table and leans forward. “You need to focus on yourself. Which you have been doing and I am pleased with our progress with your PTSD. We both know this isn’t a quick or an easy road. But you need to focus on how you feel about your voice not returning right away or, possibly ever.”

Emma swallows deeply at Alistair’s words, her throat feeling like it’s going to close over. ‘I understand.’

“Good.” Alistair picks his notebook back up and settles back into the seat. “Is there anything else you wish to discuss?”

Emma pauses and focuses on Lily as she runs her fingers through the soft fur.

‘There is something else.’ Emma admits quietly. Almost as if she’s too scared to present it.

“Which is?” Alistair asks kindly, but Emma keeps her mind closed off. “Emma, you don’t have to share if you don’t want to-”

Images start filling his mind, of the world blurring and morphing around Emma. How one second she’s at one end of the apartment and the next she’s at the other end, normally crashing into something or stumbling. How she easily lifts items others seem to struggle with, lifting Lena and Alex like they were light as a feather. Her headaches and heightened senses, especially her sensitive hearing and being able to hear a whisper across a room. How overwhelming the noise can become when she’s in a crowded place.

Alistair also feels fear and confusion pour off the young woman.

“Emma, you have nothing to fear here.” Alistair implores the blonde. “And thank you for showing me. How long have you noticed these- moments?”

‘Only recently when… erm.’ Emma’s cheeks colour in an intense blush as she remembers the moment she heard a crack from the headboard during an intense orgasm on Sunday while she rode Lena’s strap. Looking down she noticed the wood was splintering and cracking under her hands.

Once Lena was asleep Emma had sat up and felt the cracks again. She stayed there for a while as pieces started to click into place. Something was wrong with her.

“Nothing is wrong with you.” Alistair says firmly, his eyes imploring Emma to listen. “Can we test this theory that something is happening to you?” Alistair asks as he straightens up.

Emma nods and watches as he gets up and goes to one of his many bookcases. The redhead picks something up and strides back over to her. In his hand is a small, shiny ball.

“Squeeze this as hard as you can.” Alistair says while handing her the ball and moves her empty glass to sit on the coffee table in front of her.

Lily sits up, intrigued by the object Emma is holding.

‘Okay.’ Emma starts squeezing and applies more and more pressure.

Nothing happens.

“Keep a hold of it but look at me.” Alistair instructs and Emma lifts her eyes and focuses on his kind crystal blue ones.

“Have they gotten any closer to finding those responsible?” Alistair carefully asks, his eyes searching Emma’s hazel green ones.

‘No.’ Emma’s face and eyes darken and she clenches her jaw.

“Are Kara and Alex putting up the right precautions to not get taken again? I imagine they are prime targets as they are close to you? Maybe someone like Winn or Lucy or maybe your Mom or even Lena could be taken next?”

The thought of her family, her friends, her loved ones being forced into what Alex and Kara have already gone through fills Emma with a powerful rage.

She grits her teeth and her hold on the silver ball tightens.

Alistair’s eyes flick down to her hand. “Emma, look.”

The blonde lowers her gaze and gapes at the hand imprint she has made on the now disproportionate ball.

“This is a ball of titanium.” Alistair says as he picks the metal up out of Emma’s hand. “Or was.” He mutters as he turns it around in his hands.

‘What’s happening to me?’ Emma thinks, terrified at what this could mean.

“I don’t know.” Alistair truthfully admits. “Maybe it’s to do with the serum they gave you?”

‘But it was a healing serum? Not a super soldier thing!’ Emma’s mind shouts, her panic starting to build.

“That may be the case, but you need to communicate with Lena, Brainy or Doctor Hamilton about this.”

‘Do I have to?’ Emma apprehensively asks.

“Yes. Because this-” Alistair holds up the distorted piece of titanium. “Is not normal.”

Emma nods but her face scrunches up in emotion.

‘You always like being the center of attention! I hate you!’ Alex’s teenage words scream within Emma’s mind, causing her to hide her head in her hands.

“Emma?” Alistair tilts his head and Lily nuzzles her nose into the side of the blonde’s face.

‘I’m just Emma, plain, simple Emma.’ Her thoughts come out weak and feeble.

“Emma, there is nothing plain or simple about you. You are one of the most talented people I know. Your voice reaches and touches millions of lives and gives them hope.” He says passionately and before Emma can respond a buzzer goes off. “And that’s the end of our session for this week.” He says apologetically. “But we’ve made some really good progress. Emma-” Alistair says to get Emma to look at him. Slowly she lowers her hands and lifts her head. Her eyes swimming in anguish. “I really recommend that you tell someone what is happening. Anyone you feel comfortable sharing with. Maybe Lucy or Sam?” Alistair gently offers. “Just don’t keep this to yourself.”

Emma nods and gets up, making Lily jump off the sofa and trots with her to the door.

“Did you want to meet up on Wednesday like usual? Or did you want to come here on Friday instead?” Alistair offers as he follows behind her with his diary.

‘Yea Wednesday sounds good.’

“Great! I’ll see you then! Have a good weekend and remember what I said.” Alistair opens the door and smiles at her.

Emma nods but feels slightly frustrated that the appointment ended just as they were getting somewhere. She quickly rushes through, feeling like she has more questions than answers.

What’s going on?

Did she have powers?

How could that be?

Over and over these questions cycle through her mind as she makes her way down the stairs.

She passes a mirror and suddenly remembers to put the face modifier on. She chooses the face with the Marilyn Monroe beauty mark that is quickly becoming one of her favourite to use.

As she exits the building Emma starts to get her headphones out and plans a route to run home. That is until a car quickly pulls up beside her and honks loudly. Causing Emma to jump high into the air.

“Get in loser we’re going shopping!” Alex yells across Kara who beams at Emma from the open passenger window.

But the blonde momentarily stays frozen, trying to process what just happened and her sisters’ beaming faces.

“Em?” Kara’s smile fades and a frown replaces it, making Emma quickly open the back door of Alex’s car and dive in.

“Seatbelt.” Alex orders as she turns to study her baby sister. ‘She must have had a hard session.’ Alex thinks and her eyes snap to Kara’s who looks to be thinking the same thing as she bites her lip in worry.

Once Emma is belted in Alex pulls back into traffic. “Hope you didn’t mind us picking you up?” She calls back to Emma and watches her shake her head in the rearview mirror.

Kara twists around so she can see Emma properly. “We thought we could have a sister’s day and have a movie marathon?”

“Sounds good.” Emma signs and tries to smile convincingly.

“Plus it's your turn to choose!” Alex says trying to sound more upbeat than normal and wants to remind Emma. Normally her blonde sister would clap loudly and take a while to choose. Going back and forth between many classics and their favourites. Even discussing pros and cons between the choices she has.

Instead, Emma simply nods in response before gazing out of the window. Making Kara and Alex exchange worried glances as they continue towards Alex’s apartment.

Soon they are parked in Alex's parking space and the sisters get out. Emma goes to walk towards the elevator when Alex stops her.

“Do you mind giving us a hand?” Alex asks while she pops the boot open. Bags upon bags of food are revealed, causing Emma to raise an eyebrow at her sisters.

“I know! I was hungry!” Kara whines and immediately grabs a donut from one of the bags and chomps on it.

“Kara!” Alex yells and swats at her.

“Sorry! Do you want one?” Kara says with her mouth full and offers Alex a donut.

Emma can’t help but smile at the pair and reaches down to take a few bags.

“Wait! Em they are-” Alex pauses as Emma effortlessly lifts them up. “Heavy… Guess not.”

Emma momentarily freezes and remembers what she had Alistair had discussed, instead she shrugs and smiles at the red head instead.

“I got these!” Kara announces and takes the rest.

“You left me with one.” Alex says unimpressed while closing the boot. “Emma, give me a few.”

The blonde looks down and hands her sister the bags full of light goodies.

“I can take a few more.” Alex raises an eyebrow at Emma and holds her hand out. But Emma responds in a shrug and strolls towards the elevator. Alex turns her head towards Kara who repeats Emma’s shrug and follows.

As soon as they enter the apartment Emma places the bags on the island and quickly disengages her face modifier. Silently sighing in relief as she massages her cheeks.

Kara places her bags on the island and pulls out a small USB drive from her jean pocket. “Winn kindly let us borrow his drive with all the films past and present. Wouldn’t let me borrow films of the future though… Especially those based on real events.”

“Wonder why?” Alex laughs and places the last of the bags on the island. She looks to see Emma’s response, but the blonde is too busy unpacking the bags. “Em?”

Hazel green eyes shoot up and an unusual blank look accompanies Emma’s face.

“You okay?” Alex asks with a frown and takes a step towards her baby sister. But Emma takes a step away from her and around the island.

“Can I have a shower? I still feel a bit gross from my run.” Emma signs while barely looking at her sisters.

“Sure! You know you don’t need to ask!” Alex utters and watches Emma nod before zipping into the bathroom.

“Shall I get you some clothes?” Kara calls out while giving Alex a concerned look, the redhead mirrors it with a frown.

Emma pops her head around the door and nods, giving them a grateful smile before quickly disappearing again.

Kara approaches Alex’s closet. “Kara, wait!” Alex yells but the blonde has already opened the door.

“Huh, Alex-” Kara tilts her head and slowly turns back to her sister. “Why are most of your clothes not in your closet?”

“Er, laundry day?” Alex says not too convincingly and can tell by Kara’s face, she doesn’t believe her.

“That’s a question.” Kara places a hand on her hip and studies the redhead.

“Okay I can explain, but I want to tell both of you. Together.”

“Okay.” Kara grins at her sister and turns back to the closet to find something for Emma to wear.

“There should be a bag of Em’s things by the right?” Alex says while getting glasses and bowls for the drinks and snacks for the marathon.

“Found it!” Kara hollers, takes the bag out and places it on the bed. She opens it and tries to find the comfiest clothes for Emma to wear.

“Do you need any help?” Kara asks after getting Emma’s things ready.

“Can you move these to the coffee table please?” Alex asks and then gives Kara a hard look when she grabs two huge bowls filled with treats. “Do not start eating until we are all sitting on the sofa.”

“Yes ma’am.” Kara deadpans and starts transferring the stuff over from the island to the coffee table, while Alex gets the microwavable popcorn ready. Finding they all prefer fresh, hot popcorn to normal bagged ones.

Kara hears the shower turn off and super speeds over to grab the clothes she has chosen for Emma and practically skips to the door, knocking on it in a quick rhythm.

“Hey Em, I got some comfy clothes for you to change into.” Kara calls through the door and hears Emma moving around the bathroom. The door opens and Emma’s hand appears to take it. “There you go!” When the door closes again Kara heads to Alex sitting on the sofa. Her sunny attitude fading as her face morphs into one of worry. “Do you think she had a hard session today?”

“Yea maybe. I mean she hasn’t seemed the happiest the past few days.”

“Mhmm, do you think it's mainly due to Lena? She’s working way too hard.”

“When doesn’t she?!” Alex takes a sip of her drink. “Shall we order or wait for Em to decide?”

“Let’s wait.” Kara nods and sits back into the sofa cushions.

“But how is Lena, like, have you gone to see her recently?”

“Yea, I saw her last night on patrol. Actually had to forcibly remove her from her office but we had a good chat. She just holds onto what her damn family says too much.”

“Yea.” Alex says softly in agreement. She’s grown to really care for Lena, despite the rocky start. “But she’s taking time off soon for the- you know.”

“Yes, that's the plan.” They both ignore the word surgery and both feel their nerves bubbling up about it. “Are you taking any ti-”

The bathroom door opens, making the sisters drop their conversation and look at their baby sister.

Emma feels more relaxed after the warm shower but the sudden stop in her sisters’ conversation when she leaves the bathroom fills Emma with an uneasy feeling.

“Were you talking about me?” Emma signs with a tilt of her head as she continues to dry her hair with a towel.

“Just about what food we fancy.” Kara smiles too brightly. “And as usual we want the complete opposite and I was asking Alex what she thought you would want.”

“Yea and I didn’t get to answer cause that’s when you came in.”

Emma stops drying her hair and looks between her two sisters, her eyes darting back and forth. She doesn’t believe them but decides to go along with their explanation. “So what are the options? I mean, we can get different things right? Not like it will go to waste?”

“Now that is an excellent idea.” Alex nods in approval and gives Kara a bright smile as she unlocks her phone to open UberEats. “So Kara you wanted-”

“Potstickers.” Emma signs at the same time Kara enthusiastically yells the word out.

“You know me so well little one!” Kara laughs, making Emma pause, realising Kara hasn’t called her that in a while.

But she carries on drying her hair before flinging the towel towards Alex’s hamper.

“Em-” Alex starts to complain, thinking the towel would flop part of the way there. But the screwed up towel lands perfectly in the laundry basket. “Ma- huh, good throw.”

Emma bows and approaches where she normally sits in the middle of the sofa.

“Peanut, what do you fancy?” Alex looks up from her phone after putting in her order too.

Emma shrugs and grabs a handful of popcorn.

“That’s for the film!” Alex hollers and slaps Emma’s hand, causing her to jump. “Which you also need to choose what you want to watch.”

“I’ll do it!” Kara super speeds to where she left the USB, plugs it into Alex’s tv and hands Emma the remote to scroll through.

“But first I need to know what you want to eat.”

Emma shoves the rest of the popcorn in her mouth to sign. “What have you already ordered?”

“Chinese and pizza.”

“I’m happy with that. Not feeling overly hungry.”

“What?” Kara blinks in shock especially when Emma can eat a decent amount of food.

“What have you eaten today? Did you have a big breakfast?” Alex enquiries, also knowing it was unusual for Emma not to demand her own food.

“Yes Doctor Danvers, I have already eaten something today.” It was only a banana but Emma wasn’t going to admit that. Her session with Alistair has unsettled her stomach.

“Yea but what was it?” Alex presses but Emma ignores her by focusing on the tv and trying to decide what to watch. Making Alex narrow her eyes. “Emma.”

But her eyes move from Emma to Kara when her other sister motions for her to stop by signing. “Can’t you see something is wrong?”

“I know but I want to find out what!” Alex tries to sign out of Emma’s peripheral vision.

“Leave her alone Alex.” Kara warns, making Alex huff which causes Emma to look over at her and Alex gives her a soft smile.

“So, any idea what we are gonna watch?” Alex asks casually and Kara rolls her eyes.

“Lord Of The Rings Extended Editions?” Emma signs hopefully, knowing the full run time is nearly twelve hours long.

“I’m up for that!” Alex beams at the TV as the menu screen for ‘The Fellowship Of The Ring’ comes up.

“Me too!” Kara claps and settles back into the sofa. Emma smiles at both of her sisters and grabs the blanket draped over the back and places it over their laps.

“Thanks Em.”

The sisters watch the opening scenes fold out, explaining the lore of Middle Earth, the darkness and the moment all things were almost lost.

When the whistle of the Shire plays, Emma’s eyes well with tears and she sniffs. Always finding this piece of music touches her. She feels a hand on each thigh as her sisters reach out to comfort her at the same time and Emma hesitantly takes each hand. Warily to not harm them and being frightened to do so.

‘Rao, is this how Kara feels all the time?’

But Emma tries to push her earlier discovery away and gets lost in the film again.

The loud ringing of the apartment buzzer makes Emma almost jump out of her seat.

“Food!” Kara yells as she flies to the door and down the stairs to grab it from the delivery person.

Emma pauses the film and turns to Alex to sign with a raised eyebrow. “Do you think Kara is secretly a Hobbit?” Emma signs, causing Alex to almost spit out the drink she was sipping. “I mean, she has what, four breakfasts?”

Alex cackles loudly and Emma smiles at the sound.

“What are you laughing at?” Kara asks as she super speeds into the room with the food perfectly balanced in her hands.

“Oh, we were just comparing you to a Hobbit.” Alex teases and grins at the blonde.

“Alex!” Kara looks outraged. “I do not have big, hairy feet!”

“It was Emma’s idea!” Alex motions at Emma.

“Emma!” Kara shifts her focus to her baby sister but Emma shrugs and grabs her pizza off the pile.

“I mean, she’s not wrong.” Alex says as she opens a tub of potstickers for Emma and her to share.

“Alex!” Kara yells outraged.

“Kara!” Alex yells mockingly back.

“Emma!” The blonde signs and the trio start laughing. Alex rests her forehead against the side of Emma’s face. Emma turns her head to nuzzle Alex’s and smiles when she feels Kara lean over and hug both of them. Emma twists to place a kiss on Kara's shoulder.

Alex clears her throat and pulls away. “Shall we press play?”

Emma nods and grabs the remote, continuing the film.

The sisters watch the first film and immediately go into the second one, which to Emma, is her favourite. Especially the scenes with Arwen in.

When they get to the scene with Arwen talking to her father, Emma swallows deeply.

“There is still hope.” Arwen whispers back.

Emma’s stomach clenches at the words. Hope.

“Little one?” Kara turns to look at Emma, hearing her heartbeat changing.

Alex immediately grabs the remote to pause the film when she sees tears fill her sister's eyes and how Emma is desperately trying to hide them.

“No, I’m fine. Please continue the film.”

“Actually I need to use the bathroom!” Kara zips up and Alex pauses the film anyway.

She watches Emma closely as she rubs her eyes, trying to force away the tears. “Em? You know you can always tell me what’s going on? Right?”

Emma nods but doesn’t look Alex in the eye, knowing she’d break. “It was a hard session today, sorry.”

“Oh Em, please don’t apologise.” Alex says and pulls her sister into her lap, hugging her close. She feels Emma stiffen but slowly relaxes in her arms.

Kara comes back and Alex gives her a sad look.

“Everything okay?” She asks while sitting down next to them.

“It was a hard session.” Alex answers softly.

“Oh little one.” Kara places a gentle hand on Emma’s back and Emma can’t hold the tears back anymore as she buries her head into the crook of Alex’s shoulder.

Alex and Kara sadly gaze at each other, unsure what they can say or do as they listen to Emma’s hard breaths and sniffs.

Kara swallows and shuffles closer, hugging Emma’s back. “We got you little one, you're safe.” Kara feels Emma shift and move her hand over her shoulder to grab a hold of hers.

They don’t know how long they stay in this position but Kara and Alex do not move until Emma feels ready. They whisper words of love and encouragement and hope she hears them.

Suddenly Kara’s head snaps to the apartment door as she hears two sets of footprints approach. The door opens before she can do anything as Sam and Lena walk through. They both halt at the sight of the sisters.

“What's wrong?” Sam whispers quietly as she places the takeaway food on the coffee table and goes to Alex’s side, perching on the edge of the sofa.

“Hard session.” Alex answers softly and kisses Sam’s lips.

“Has she mentioned anything else?” Lena asks quietly and watches as Emma immediately lifts her head up and twists her neck to find her. Lena swallows as she sees the tears streaming down Emma’s reddened cheeks, her eyes puffy and bloodshot. “Oh love.” Lena says brokenly and goes to comfort her girlfriend, but halts as she doesn’t know where she can go.

Kara immediately moves out of the way, allowing Lena to sit next to Alex and hug Emma’s back. But Emma has other ideas as she twists and moves her upper body onto Lena and holds her close, burying her head into Lena’s neck but her lower half stays on Alex’s lap.

“We got you love.” Lena soothes while stroking Emma’s damp hair and back. She feels Kara scoot close and Lena signals that Kara can join the hug. Immediately Kara wraps an arm around Lena and places a hand gently on Emma’s lower back.

The four women quietly console the broken woman in between them and each other. Wishing nothing more than to heal Emma’s pain.

In time Emma loses steam and slowly lifts her head from the crook of Lena’s neck and sniffs heavily.

“Hi love.” Lena says gently and Emma nuzzles their foreheads together and breathes deeply.

Emma feels truly exhausted, not having cried like that in weeks, well, since she found out about her paralysed vocal chords.

“Is this the time though?” Emma’s ear picks up Alex quietly whispering to Sam.

“Maybe it will make her happy?” Sam offers back, making Emma turn her head towards the couple.

“What will make me happy?” Emma sloppily signs and Kara shifts so she can see the couple too. A small smile gracing her lips.

“Well, erm…” Alex pauses. “I’ve found I’m not really living here anymore because I’m mainly around Sam's apartment.”

“So, we’ve decided that Alex will move in with Ruby and I.” Sam finishes with a huge grin.

Emma blinks and her eyes dart around Alex’s apartment. She had noticed little trinkets and items missing but thought nothing of it.

“Congratulations!” Kara yells happily and jumps to her feet to hug her sister and Sam.

“Thanks Kara.” Alex hugs Kara back and turns back to Emma, who still looks like she’s processing. “Em?”

She watches as Emma’s eyes refocus and a small smile tugs at the corner of her right lip. She lifts her hands and holds one hand with the other and firmly shakes them. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks Em.” Alex smiles back.

“And, you can totally come crash at ours anytime, use the spare room and have sister nights.” Sam smiles at Emma and Kara.

“Well, not ANY-time.” Alex burrows her nose into her girlfriend’s cheek and Sam blushes and bites her lip.

Emma raises an eyebrow and smirks at Lena. She takes a shuddering deep breath as her body calms down from her breakdown.

“Do we want to finish the film and watch the third one another time?” Kara asks while looking through the takeout bags.

Missing the way Emma whips around to gape at her.

“But then it's not a movie marathon!”

“Kara.” Lena says to get the alien’s attention out of the bag containing burgers and french fries.

“Hmm?” Kara’s eyes are wide as she looks to see what her best friend wants.

“Emma was signing to you.”

“Sorry little one.” Kara says apologetically.

“But then it's not a movie marathon.”

“I agree!” Kara nods and shoves some french fries in her mouth. “Shall we get comfy?!”

“I need to pee.” Emma signs and carefully moves off her sister and girlfriend. But as she takes a step away from them the world morphs around her.

‘Please! Not now!’ Emma’s mind yells and she tries to halt her step, ultimately causing her to trip over her own feet.

“Wow careful Em!” Alex laughs. “Rao you are getting more clumsy than Kara!”

“Hey!” Kara yells back offended, making Lena and Sam chuckle in response.

Emma smiles back at them but moves cautiously to the bathroom door.

“Did she mention anything else?” Emma hears Lena ask as soon as she closes the bathroom door.

“No, she’s been quieter than normal.” Alex sighs heavily, making Emma’s heart clench.

“Like she wasn’t here.” Kara agrees.

“Well therapy sessions can be tough sometimes and it’s good Emma is obviously opening up.” Sam tries to reassure the group while plating up everyone's food.

Emma tries not to listen but her ears can’t help but pick up her loved one’s voices. She finishes what she is doing and washes her hands. Briefly pausing and leaning against the sink.

‘Should I tell them?’ Emma wonders and her eyes lift her to her distressed expression. Immediately she wipes her face and adopts a more neutral expression. ‘They have enough to deal with anyway.’

Suddenly she feels a piercing pain in her head. So severe that if she had her voice, Emma would have screamed out as she scrunches up her eyes. Emma then feels a droplet fall from her nose and her eyes shoot open. Her nose is bleeding. She quickly grabs some toilet paper to stem the flow. But, finds nothing more comes out, the nosebleed seemingly stops before it had even begun.

Confused, Emma repeatedly wipes at her nose a few times to make sure it had indeed stopped.

‘Weird.’ Emma mutters in her mind as she stares down at the blood on the tissue. Her head tilts as she assesses the colour and her eyebrows knit together.

“Emma?” Sam’s muffled voice calls through the door, making Emma recoil away from it. “Are you okay in there?”

Throwing the bloodied piece of tissue into the toilet, Emma flushes it, quickly washes her hands and moves towards the door, opening it to a concerned looking Sam.

“You okay?” She asks as her warm brown eyes seemingly studies the blonde in front of her.

Emma nods and gives her a small smile before moving past her to get back to the sofa.

Sam follows, watching Emma closely and sits on Alex’s turquoise chair. Emma hesitates, not sure where she can sit due to the sofa looking full with her sisters and Lena already on it.

“There’s room for you on here too, it will be a tight squeeze but I think we can manage.” Lena pats the small gap between her and Alex. Emma carefully wedges herself between the two and gratefully takes the plate Kara hands to her. Already feeling a bit hungry.

“Ready?” Alex asks while grabbing the remote.

“Ready!” Sam and Kara yell back and the room is again filled with the sights and sounds of Middle Earth.

-- -- --

Later that night Kara, Emma and Lena glide through the air towards Lena’s apartment.

“I mean, why couldn’t Gandalf have just got the Eagles to fly Frodo and the ring to Mount Doom?” Kara argues with Lena while Emma listens and smiles, enjoying the debate between the two.

“Because they are their own beings plus Sauron had the Fellbeast and the Nazgûl would have seen the eagles coming!”

“Huh, I guess. But! Then why didn’t the fellowship prepare for that? Have a few more elves firing arrows? Problem solved!” Kara declares as they touch down on the balcony.

“If you say so, Kara.” Lena beams at her best friend as Kara gently places her feet on solid ground and Emma lets off her sister.

“Well, goodnight.” Kara opens her arms and hugs Lena tight before turning and giving Emma a hug too.

“Night.” Lena yawns out and opens the balcony door with Emma following behind her and waving goodbye to Kara.

They get ready for bed together and Lena can’t help but notice the far off look in Emma’s eyes. Like her girlfriend was somewhere else.

When they slide into bed, Lena gently takes Emma’s hand and lies on her side to fully look at her girlfriend.

“Hey.” Lena gently whispers.

Emma slowly turns her head and her eyes focus on concerned green ones.

“Are you okay?”

Swallowing deeply Emma turns to lie on her side to face Lena. Her mind races with what to communicate. Should she tell her everything?

“Love, please don’t lie to me.” Lena says, seeing the clogs working in Emma’s mind, and the worry within her eyes. But suddenly Lena is yawning again. “Sorry.” She blinks and widens her eyes more to keep them open.

Emma gives her a small smile and watches her closely. ‘She’s exhausted. Tell her a half truth.’

“I’m nervous about next week.”

“That’s understandable. But we are all with you.” Lena nuzzles her forehead against Emma’s and gently kisses her lips. Her hand slowly trails down Emma’s body.

But Emma pulls back and her smile widens slightly. “Time for sleep.”

“But I want to make you feel good.” Lena yawns out, even though her eyelids start drooping from exhaustion. Emma slowly reaches out and softly runs the back of her finger down the bridge of Lena’s nose.

“No sleep.” Lena whines but feels her eyes closing anyway and a tender kiss being placed against her lips. “Lve yu.”

Emma squeezes Lena’s hand three times and watches her girlfriend fall into a deep, peaceful sleep. She stays there for a while, admiring how serene and stunning the raven haired beauty looks.

Slowly Emma rolls over, picks up her notebook and pencil and faces Lena again. She sits up against the headboard so she can sketch Lena, wanting to capture the moment and take in every detail of her love.

Once her task was done Emma places her things on the bedside table.

“Hope, can you turn the lights off please?” Emma signs and carefully slides down the bed to lay back down. Emma closes her eyes and breathes deeply, willing herself to go to sleep.

But in the dark, sinister voices start playing through her mind. Digging up her fears and dread.

Emma blows a frustrated breath through her nose and turns back towards Lena, opening her eyes to focus on the raven haired beauty. Emma’s breathing becomes heavy as she tries to stay calm, but ultimately her stomach clenches and thoughts begin pouring in of what will be happening this time next week. What will the outcome be of the surgery? Will it succeed?

As if sensing Emma’s distress in her sleep, Lena shuffles closer to her girlfriend and latches on. Unknowingly calming Emma down and relieving the ache in her heart. Emma gently kisses Lena’s head, pushing aside her fears and worries before closing her eyes, to fall into a peaceful sleep.

(Part Thirty Four)

[starshipsofstarlord]

Caught Backstage | 5th Second

Warnings; includes smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), embarrassment, second hand embarrassment,

Wembley Arena, one of the most famous places that a musician could perform. It was an honour to be welcomed onto that stage, and even more so that there were cameras around corners within the crowd, capturing the sheer joy imploding onto the faces of fans, and to top that all off, there was another reasoning for the lenses. A movie, technically the second one, but the first taking information from each member of the band.

It felt so surreal, there was an onslaught of adrenaline running through your veins as you held a chilled water bottle, drinking the cold liquid. You had yet to start the show, so there was still time to kill. One of the last times that had been recorded was when Mikey and Cal had been cinched by the snaking flames, it made you relieved that that idea had been scrapped for the future.

However, even though there was no fire nearby, there was a heat riveting inside of you, you had so much energy awaiting, but it was still almost an hour until you were called out to grab a guitar and stand behind a microphone. Those statistics made you huff, and so you walked into the dressing room that the five of you shared, only to see a single singer there. Luke.

Your partner was half laid on the couch, his phone grasped in one hand. As you entered the confinement, you ensured the door was closed behind your jittering presence, so that if you were to consensually pursue your primal urges, there would be a barrier, blocking out the view of anyone that decided to be a peeping tom.

“Missed you.” He mumbled, continuing to stare at the screen of his device. You sat beside him, his hand extending to your thigh and massaging the taught muscles, it was a comforting act, his lips pressing to the skin that the uprise of your shirt exposed also. Luke was the sweetest, and his statement made you laugh a little, not enough to trigger any insecurities, but enough to peak his curiosity. Although his phone was still in his hand, he was peering up at you.

“I was gone for twenty mins tops, and I still didn’t get my phone back from that asshole.” Crossing your arms was not the only sign that signalled that you were frustrated. Another was the crease that formed between your brows, which Luke reached up to try and rub away, at his touch you let the line shrink away.

“That’s better.” He spoke, throwing his phone onto the table in front of the couch, his hand coming up to brush any loose strands of hair that had absentmindedly decided to escape from behind your ear. “What did he want with it anyway?”

“He saw it as a way to piss me off, and for once Mikey was correct. Normally I wouldn’t be bothered, I’m so exhausted from our work, my mum wants me to visit her in (Your Home Town) and is getting annoyed that I can’t because business, and my dad’s getting the other end of the stick, she’s saying she should have never let him move me to Sydney with him. A part of me is slightly happy that Mike took my phone, but the other wants to rip his head off.”

“Would sex help ease your list of troubles?” It was blunter than the boy usually was when referring to the activity, let alone suggesting it. Your head snapped up to lock onto his smirking gaze, trying to decipher whether he was being serious or not.

“Here? Now?” Slipped past your lips, unsure whether the idea was that great of one. Sure, when you had entered the room, it had been an probable thought, one that had calmed you just from thinking about it, however it seemed risky.

It certainly wouldn’t be your first time having sex with the risk of being caught, the tour bus and hotel rooms were a green zone, however there were paid staff behind the scenes of the stage, working to make sure everything went perfectly and to plan. The aspect of two famous teenagers having sex on a sofa, in the band’s relaxing quarters wasn’t on the schedule. But what did they expect, as said, you were teenagers.

“We have forty seven minutes, there’s plenty of time.” Luke prompted, his hands beginning to undo his jeans which attracted your eyes to the area of his covered cock. However you didn’t stop his actions, instead you remained still, letting him shuffle his layers of concealing articles down his thighs, far enough to the point where he was revealed.

His dick lay heavy on his thigh, twitching slightly when you licked your lips at the sight. “Care to shed a little clothing too? I don’t think this is going to work if only one of us is half undressed.” At his suggestion, you too shimmied down your black skinny jeans and underwear, neither anything particularly eye catching or special to the moment.

Your pussy was left bare, and as you came to rest again upon the sofa, you hovered over Luke, your eyes cast down as he had his hand on the body of his length, his hand conducting the movements of his cock and how it rubbed sensually against your slit.

“Just put it in me!” You sighed, brushing your hair over your shoulder. As you commanded, Luke bottomed out inside of you, pulling you down on him by the waist, his face coming to rest closer to your own. “Oh.”

“You’d think you’d be less tight by now, not that I’m complaining.” He bit his lip ring, which encouraged you to lean forward and take the metal ring into your own mouth, sucking on the black accessory and the part of his lip around it. Then you began to move, bracing your hands on his chest as you brought your tightness up and down his erection, coating him in your pleased juices and the feeling elicited happy noises from the pair of you.

“Good, don’t.” You breathed, your eyes fluttering at all of the sensations that you were feeling from where your bodies interlocked. The bliss never got old, the passion remained intact through each day of your relationship, and it was presented to those who opened the dressing room door. They groaned because of the sex, but for a different reason than Luke had been.

“Fucks sakes guys.” Calum turns, not wanting to see two of his best friends in such an intimate moment, clearly not meant for their eyes. At his voice, Luke and you froze instantly, redness spreading from your cheeks all the way down to your necks and luckily clothed chests.

“Not again.” Ash shook his head, and you avoided the eyes of your bandmates. They laughed a little, but you and your partner however did not. “Did you two really have to do it in here?”

“We’ve never done it in a dressing room before.” You attempted to sass back at the drummer, but to your dismay, your voice came out as quiet and guilty. Not really the attitude that you were going for, but oh well.

“Can you guys give us a minute to get decent?” Luke asked, his hand flopping over his face, to which you prodded his fingers, trying to peer through them to find his ocean eyes.

“Sure.” Mikey dragged the word out, unsure how to deal with the situation. “I just came back to give your phone back (Y/N/N) And the sofa’s all yours when we grab dinner, I don’t want to sit on that thing.” He threw it at you, the object ending up right next to Luke’s naked thigh which tensed from the contact.

“Thanks.” A sheepish smile was exploited onto your lips, teeth showing through their parting in an awkward stance.

“We’re on in a bit, keep your hands out of each other’s pants until after the show please.” Calum spoke, still refusing to look at the two of you. A loud sigh was heard from him as he walked away, and you imagined it as a prayer to either make him blind for future instances in which they caught the two of you in such a position, or for him individually to never have the unfortunate luck of seeing you two as such ever again.

Taglist

: @coucoukayy

@reallygroovyholland

​ @faithhhsworld

@lukehemmingsleftnipple

@inocent-as-a-rose

@marvel-af

@kingxnichole

@winchestergirl907

[kenmasgameboy]

ruin me.

chapter 8: who?

previous…next

masterlist

kuroo tetsurou came into y/n’s life when she needed him to fuck it up the most.

Kuroo tapped the notebook you where you were rewriting your notes for better organization. You looked over, eyes wide with the sudden eye contact he made. Fuck, he’s so hot. You thought this to yourself and had to look away.

“When do you have to close up?” Kuroo asked, his voice smooth in your ear as you become painfully aware of his gaze.

“Half an hour.” You mumbled, checking your watch. Thanks to the silence around you he still heard you.

“Perfect, uh.” Kuroo nervously fiddled with his pencil, trying to prepare himself to be rejected, “Could I walk you home when you’re done?”

“What?” You practically choke it out, your skin feeling hot and sweaty under your current predicament.

“It’s just getting late, I think Inuoka had to have gone home by now if you were planning on going with him. But I’d love to walk you. I really don’t mind.” Kuroo insisted. You gripped the page of your book, crinkling the corner of it between your thumb and index finger.

“Kuroo-san?” You finally gain the courage to say something above a mumble.

“You don’t have to be so formal—” Kuroo started but you needed to let it out before you swallowed it back down forever.

“Why are you messing with me? I know I tweeted that thing but I didn’t think you’d ever see that. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” You said it in practically one long breath, trying to get it all out of your chest like blowing it into a balloon.

“What tweet? Oh the one where you said I was some good fucking food, something about being a delicious specimen, right?” He flashed a handsome teasing grin your way. Your whole body felt like cringing, curling in on itself until you turned into seafoam but restricted it to just your hands curling and your face wincing. Why did you ever forget the internet is forever?

“I’m just teasing you. Of course, I’m flattered. But I was interested in knowing who you were before I even saw that.” He insisted, his genuine smoothness spilling across the table.

“Oh.” You said, quickly turning your face into your opposite shoulder as to hide the panic and flustered expression you surely are wearing. Kuroo wanted to see that face so bad. A light breath was exhaled from his nose as he held back his laugh, you were amusing though he would give you that.

“Why don’t I walk you home?” He repeated himself. You remembered Inuoka’s long gone and the dark of the night had already settled in. You couldn’t walk home alone, but walking home with a guy you didn’t know very well also didn’t sound like a fun risk.

“Y/N-chan?” Your class representative suddenly had approached the desk, Nakamura Satoshi. You hadn’t spoken to him much, only when he needed you to do a certain task. He was #1 in your year, and was extremely popular with the staff and faculty. He wasn’t exactly Kuroo’s status with popularity, but he was up there. There was no doubt people knew who they were. And they knew who each other were.

You were so thankful that nobody else was in this library. As this would be quite the sight for anyone to see. Two of some of the most popular boys at this school hanging around the loner librarian assistant. What was next? Was an idol going to come try to talk to you as well? You set a reminder in your head to punch Inuoka for leaving you alone tonight.

“Ah, Satoshi-kun, I’m sorry I forgot you were here. Can I help you find something? I was about to close up.” You smiled lightly at him. Your interaction with this guy made Kuroo want to put his fist directly into Nakamura’s face. Did he not see he was working on something over here? He just had to come ruin it, huh? Why were you so familiar with each other? Kenma said you didn’t talk to anyone. Kuroo’s patience was coming to a stifling end.

“Ah not exactly, I’m sorry to keep you past your shift. Is the librarian coming to relieve you?” Satoshi asked you,

“No, I’m locking up tonight. She texted me a little while ago to let me know she couldn’t come back to do it.” You said. Kuroo was getting antsy, starting to pack up his things as he tried to urge this kid to stop talking. He was getting the need to be petty, jealous of how comfortable you were with him.

“Oh, I see.” He said, returning his voice to a normal level since nobody else was here, “I was wondering if you could help me understand this assignment from English? You got second highest in that subject last term, right?”

“Well, yeah. Second to you?” You turned your head to the side in confusion, but Kuroo didn’t miss a beat in understanding this guys game plan.

“I could help you.” Kuroo smiled nonchalant, playing coy as if he didn’t know a thing.

“Oh, Kuroo-san! My apologies, I didn’t see you there.” Satoshi bowed and smiled politely. Immediately it was like a surge of lightening went through both of their eyes, their competitive natures being at opposing sides with each other.

“No worries, I scored #1 in english the last 3 years, I don’t mind helping you.” Kuroo said, trying to draw his attention away from you.

“That’d be great, but I’d feel like I was cheating if i got help from someone as advanced as you. Besides, Y/N-chan always takes the best notes from what we covered in class today. I swear! They’re always better than mine.” Satoshi was being light-hearted but not even you could deny the air had gotten thicker.

“It’s okay, um. Is it this one? I’ll admit it was kind of difficult. Learning when to use past, present, and future tense verbs can get rather difficult especially if it changes mid-sentence.” You said this while looking down at the identical sheets, trying to ignore that half of the answer bubbles looked like they used to have writing in them but had been erased. But Kuroo certainly couldn’t ignore that.

“I know, I’ve been kinda struggling with it. Kuroo-san, this could take a little while. You shouldn’t have to wait for Y/N-chan. I can walk her home.” Satoshi tried to wave him off. Kuroo stood up, using his height to his advantage over Satoshi who was probably only 4 inches shorter than Kuroo, but still enough to make his point.

“I don’t mind waiting, I already got my studies done for the day. No need to rush.” Kuroo insisted, “Besides, L/N already told me she wanted me to walk her home.”

“I don’t remember her saying that.” Satoshi pointed out, causing Kuroo’s eyes to widen. So, he had been listening to them. “Y/N-chan, do you mind staying with me, I’d love your input about a few other things for our class? I’ll walk you home and buy you something from the vending machine.”

You wanted to explode. Right then and there felt like the perfect time to just implode actually, so why couldn’t you spontaneously combust.

“Uh..” You nervously fiddled with the end of your uniform sweater, you looked up to Kuroo for some kind of answer. You don’t know why you had done that, you just felt like he would help you in this. Inuoka normally would be that person for you, but now out of the two in front of you, you go to Kuroo. But he just stared down Satoshi instead, when you made eye contact with him you backed down again. You panicked under his gaze. He registered that look you were giving him a second too late, “Kuroo-san, I would feel bad making you wait for me. It’s okay to go on without me.”

Kuroo wished he could back track, he wished he had the right authority to just pick you up and take you with him. He wished he could’ve gone back to when you looked at him with those panicked eyes looking for an answer and answered for you again so that you would feel like you had an ally. Satoshi didn’t skip a single beat, he took the seat Kuroo had been sitting in for the last few hours to make sure he could be even closer to you than he had been to immediately start asking you questions to ignore Kuroo.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, L/N.” Kuroo couldn’t help but hang his head with his defeat. As soon as Kuroo left through the front doors, the rubber band you felt between the two of you that had been getting pulled tighter and tighter was cut by the doors of the library. It snapped back and hit the air out of your chest. You felt weaker without him, like you couldn’t focus on what Satoshi was asking you even though you were more familiar with him he never gave you the same feeling of blissful silence in the way Kuroo gave you today.

You didn’t know that Kuroo was going to give you up that easy. You didn’t know that he wasn’t. That he was waiting down the hall waiting for you to leave with that guy with you so he could prove his own suspicions. He was never going to give up that easily.

***

TAGLIST:

@firebonbon​ @ushiwakasthighs​ @koukamisblog​ @dragonxbabe​ @ari-hatake15​ @nohxmanity​ @chaelysian​ @whatevenisapaige​ @fern-writes-ig​ @haikyuufairy​ @ushiwakaismybae​ @kalesveggietales​ @tetsuswhore @starry-magicshop​ @iwanttogotopluto​ @cuddlesslut​ @bby-bokuto​ @nagichi-kenma​ @roseestuosity​ @prcttylittlcthing​ @its-bnha-babe​ @horsegirlbabey​ @90s-belladonna​ @insomniish​ @aquzaifus @johnnysactualgf​ @axolotleyeliner​ @boosyboo9206​ @berriesii​ @animewithmemes​ @gemswrites​ @incapableofacleverusername @jvhoone @i8bbflesh @sempiternal-amour​ @anejuuuuoy​ @rd-crew​

send a comment or an ask to be added to the taglist! if your name is crossed out it’s because i couldn’t find it! let me know if you’ve changed your username!

a/n wOW WHAT A MASSIVE CHAPTER! let me know what you guys think <3 a bit more drama-filled than normal hehe

[generalfoolish]

Feel The Heat

Part Four: Fragile Bird

Rating: 18+ (minors take a hike)

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, more past relationship stuff, meddling friends, general anxiety stuff

Word count: ~2.5k

Pairing: Frankie “Fish” Morales x OC Juniper Collins

Summary: June attends a Benny Miller Fight

A/N: Hey babes! Sorry for the delay! #MandoMay2021 has ruined my brain. Enjoy, anyway 💕

Masterlist | Part Three | Part Five

June was kicking herself the whole way to school. She felt so foolish. As fast as the fear and anxiety had set in, it had dissipated. She didn’t know what was true and what her mind was twisting to fit into the worst-case scenarios she had construed. It felt impossible to pick herself out of the rut of her mind.

But then, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Maybe she was spiraling for a reason. Her last relationship had imploded, and it was beyond messy. She was aware, better than most, that things weren’t always what they seemed.

June parked her car, and went inside. She was early. But, at least inside her classroom she could shut the door and really think things through. That shred of privacy was what she needed, June decided as she jogged to the main building. She entered the security code, but locked the door back behind her.

Once in her room, she dropped her bag on her desk and sat down heavily.

Time to tell yourself some hard truths, June:

Terry was your fiancé. He left you at the altar. And took your dog.

Terry had kept the honeymoon tickets and went on the trip with another girl.

And that girl was one of your bridesmaids, and supposedly, a good friend.

Terry had made some really sketchy moves behind your back and fucked you out of a lot of money and left you reliant on your family and friends.

It was years ago, and you aren’t over it. You hate Terry, but you have a big, gaping whole where your heart should be and it’s filled with sadness and hate.

But you really like Frankie.

You really, really like Frankie.

June swallowed hard, and pulled her phone out. She keyed open her texts and typed a long message out. Then deleted it. Then re-worded and re-typed. Then deleted it again.

A knock at the door broke the spell. Sam stuck her head in, and gave a pitiful smile.

“Hey, lady…” June nodded her into the room.

“Morning, Sam.”

“Sorry, about setting you up on such a bad date.” June’s facade slipped into a frown.

“How do you know it ended badly?” Sam’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Weeeeell, Santiago told me a few minutes ago.” June looked at her phone’s time and groaned. Frankie worked fast.

“It didn’t end the best. It’s my fault.”

“I want to make it up to you!”

“I can’t go out tonight.” She told Sam, already shaking her head. June was feeling a little more hungover than she normally liked on a Wednesday morning at seven a.m.

“Not tonight, silly. Friday night!” Sam perched on her desk, and beamed down. “I doubt you have plans then.” She added with a playful wink.

“I was going to grade.” June told her flatly.

“Great! You’ll come with us.”

“Us?” June asked, her tone skeptical.

“Yeah, it’s a fight? It’s one of Santi’s friends.” June knitted her eyebrows together in disbelief.

“I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

“Fish isn’t going.” Sam told her, like that solved every issue.

“It’s still very third-wheelish. Grading isn’t glamorous, but it beats going on a date with you and your boyfriend.” June told her with a laugh.

“It won’t just be us! Will and his wife, and Ben, but he’s fighting.”

“So...fifth wheeling?”

“Or, maybe you hit it off with Ben!” June gaped at her.

“You aren’t trying to set me up with another guy in this friend group are you?” The dust hadn’t even settled from last night.

“Oh no. He is hot though. Maybe just get you finally laid?” June scoffed.

“Santi tell you that too?”

“Ha! No, I just guessed. You don’t seem like the type to put out on the first date.” June flushed at the comment, trying to not remember what she had said to Frankie.

“I’ll think about coming.” June told her, after a beat of silence. Sam clapped, and made her way to the door.

“Junie, I am sorry it didn’t work out.” June nodded and smiled. Sam meant well, even if her presence had distracted June from her text. She only had a few minutes before kids would show up, and she wasn’t sure what to say.

Anything was better than nothing.

“I’m sorry. Hope you’ll let me explain.”

~~~

June adjusted her t-shirt when she got out of her car. She couldn’t believe that Sam had actually talked her into coming out. Especially, considering it was Frankie’s friends. Especially, since Frankie hadn’t said anything back to her text. She hesitated beside her car door, and settled on just leaving. Why had she even come at all?

“June! I’m glad you came!” Busted. June looked over to see Sam sliding out of a large pick up. Sam ran over and hugged her tightly. “Relax!” She told June’s tense shoulders.

“Hey!” A man called out from the other side of the truck. “That wasn’t even in park, lady.” That must be Santiago, June thought. Sam was right, he was attractive. Heat crept up June’s neck at some of the stories Sam had shared.

“You were stopped, Santi.” Sam told him, rolling her eyes. “This is June, June this is Santiago.” June smiled shyly, hoping beyond hope that she wasn’t about to get raked over hot coals for what happened with Frankie. Instead, Santi smiled warmly.

“Nice to put a lovely face to a lovely name.” He told her, a bright smile dancing on his lips. A charmer, for sure.

“You too. Sam speaks highly of you.” He laughed, a warm, chuckle.

“I’m sure it was too much. Will and Becka are already inside, if you guys want to head in.” Santi placed a hand on Sam’s lower back and led the entourage inside. To June’s surprise they headed straight for the locker room. Two men and a woman were standing in the room, talking in hushed tones when they walked in.

“Santi!” The younger man called out, he must have been the fighter, the only one in gym clothes. Ben, June thought, trying to recall his name.

“Benny! You remember Sam, of course!” Benny, or Ben, smiled brightly and nodded, before whisking her up in a hug. When his eyes landed on June, the smile faltered.

“I thought Fish was with the kids.” June turned, wide-eyed to Sam, who shook her head quickly. “Oh, well, June, right?” He recovered, extending his hand. June took his hand reluctantly, but cut her eyes to Sam all the same. What was this?

“Well, we’re going to find the seats, you boys can give him the pep talk alone.” The woman, who must have been Becka, announced.

“That was weird, huh?” Sam asked, laughing.

“Yeah, real weird.” Becka agreed, looping her arms through both Sam and June’s.

“What’s going on?” June asked, her throat feeling tight.

“Well, you’ve been bummed out about your date.” Sam started.

“And, Frankie has been inconsolable.” Becka finished.

“Is that right? He never responded to my text. I asked him to let me explain, he just didn’t give me a chance.” June kept her arm in place, but felt her heart beating faster. This had been a disaster. Why would she inject herself into a situation where she was surrounded by people who knew Frankie intimately.

The hall ended in the arena, and June slipped behind Becka and Sam. Whatever answers they had were held off because of the blaring music and loud chatter. June hadn’t really expected such a crowd. It seemed Benny was a popular fighter. Becka led the group to a roped off section near the ring, and dropped heavily into a chair.

“Will’s grabbing drinks. Beer, okay?” Becka asked, peeking around Sam to June.

“Yeah, a Corona or Modelo.” June answered. She’d have to remember to venmo money to Becka later. Or just make Sam cover her, for dragging her here in the first place.

“So, what’s going on?” June asked again, leaning in closely to Sam.

“Don’t get mad,” Sam started, smiling wolfishly. June squeezed her eyes shut. This was a setup. “It’s just so you can talk!” Sam added, defensively.

“This is a horrible place to talk.”

“You agreed to come. It was pretty obvious, right?” Becka added, laughing. June groaned, knowing well that Becka had a point. The whole night had felt staged, and yet, here she was anyway.

“I tried to talk to him.” June argued, ignoring Becka’s comment.

“Better in person, I guess.” A gruff voice sounded behind her. She turned quickly and tried to keep her composure. Frankie.

He looked good, she thought, her eyes grazing over him. Another flannel, another cap, but he was working them out. His scruff seemed fuller, and she wondered if he’d been sleeping well, the dark circles under his eyes told her probably not.

“That’s right!” Becka laughed, grabbing her drink.

~~~

It was a set up. Frankie saw her from far away, and his throat dried up immediately. She looked amazing, all tight jeans and t-shirt. That ponytail, he was in trouble.

He hadn’t done a great job of responding to her attempts to talk. To sort things out. He was still burned from the morning after nothing happened.

A phone call to Santi that morning had confirmed his suspicions. What had happened was weird. Santi took some time to dig up intel on her, and Frankie felt a little weird about it. Until, that was, he saw what she’d been through. He could understand her hesitancy. But what he couldn’t scrub from his mind was how she had looked on top of him, pupils blown wide with lust. How she’d sounded wrecked when she asked him to fuck her, fuck him out of her system, she’d said. He had spent a lot of time in the shower, and in the dark of his bedroom, thinking about that.

But, he still hadn’t answered her. He didn’t know how. He had felt like he had had a door slammed in his face, and was hesitant to knock again. There was no guarantee that she wouldn’t pull away again, and he didn’t want that. He wanted to be let in, and he wanted her.

When the boys asked him to a fight, he had agreed immediately. Becka called in the sitter, and it would be a good break from the hard work of the farm, he had told himself. It wasn’t until he was holding as many cups of beer as he could carry, and he was staring at June that he realized it was a setup.

He didn’t know if she knew, and it didn’t matter. If she was here, that meant something. What, he wasn’t sure yet, but definitely something. He felt his ears start to burn as he approached, and heard the conversation was on him. Him ignoring her.

“Better in person, I guess.” He said, attempting to offer an olive branch. June looked like she was about to pass out. She was as clueless as him. But, her eyes on him were more hungry than anything.

“That’s right!” Becka laughed, and grabbed a beer from him. He handed one to Sam, and offered one to June. She took it hesitantly, fingers brushing his against the wet cup.

“Outside?” He asked, glancing at the watch on his forearm. There was plenty of time until Benny fought, and he had a growing suspicion that she wasn’t actually all that into the idea of a fight. He led her outside, his hand hovering on her lower back. Partially, because he didn’t want to lose her in the crowd, but mostly because he wanted to be close to her. It was driving him crazy.

In the parking lot, she whirled on him. Her beer sloshed a little, but she didn’t seem to notice the drink on her fingers.

“I’m sorry for the morning, but why didn’t you say anything?” She asked, tone more hurt than the indignant she was going for. He gaped. He didn’t have an answer. Not the time to respond reactively, though. This was already a mess.

“I thought some time would help.” He told her quietly. He was way out of his depth. She paused, not having anticipated a level response from him.

“It might have.” She conceded. He wished he could read her mind. “I am sorry. You’re the first person I’ve felt anything more than passing attraction for since my ex. It was messy. I thought I was past it. Clearly, I’m not. I think that things happened quickly, and it freaked me out. And I thought about when we first met, and…” He grimaced, knowing what she was thinking. He hadn’t given her a great first impression. Or second, or third.

He realized, dumbly, that he had been thinking the worst of her, but she had seen the worst of him. He reached out, not thinking, and rubbed her cheek.

“I’m sorry. Let’s just take it slow. I don’t mind waiting, but I have to kiss you now. Is that okay?” He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, and was vaguely aware that it made his voice raspy. It didn’t matter, all that mattered, was that June nodded. He smiled and leaned down to kiss her.