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watercolorfreckles · 3 years

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The Villain and His Therapist - Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

"You know, that shade of pink looks lovely on you," Villain purred, descending the stairs to lean against the kitchen counter.

Juliet paused where she was scrambling eggs in a skillet and glanced down at her attire of soft blue pajama pants and oversized grey sweater. "I'm not wearing any pink," she said slowly, lifting her gaze to look at the Villain.

He'd just come down from a shower, dark locks of hair curling over his forehead. He smelled of her green apple shampoo. It made her insides swoop all funny.

Villain's lips tugged into an easy grin as he took one step closer, two. He paused directly in front of her to lift a hand, brushing his knuckles feather-light against her burning cheek.

"I was referring to your blush. It suits you quite beautifully." His voice was liquid gold. Her skin tingled beneath his touch.

Remembering herself, Juliet swatted his hand away and covered her cheeks with her palms. "I'm not blushing."

He didn't try to hide the amusement on his face.

"Mm, whatever were you thinking about, Doctor Meadows?" Villain took Juliet's hands to gently pry them away from her face, using the hold on her wrists to pull her closer.

Juliet sucked in a soft breath, looking up at him. The sun streaming through the window caught the highlights of his handsome face and illuminated his dark irises, turning them to molten amber.

"I...was...thinking about how gentle you can be. When you calmed me down that night, you were patient and sensitive; you displayed a lot of empathy and care. I'm really proud of you. You've come a long way."

Villain's grin grew a little softer as he tilted his head to the side, studying her face. The way he looked at her used to make her feel like prey being stalked by a lion. Now...it made her feel like she was the only thing in his universe.

Her stomach fluttered.

Juliet swallowed, continuing. "I imagine it isn't easy for you to be so vulnerable. I'm glad that you feel safe enough with me to be soft."

Villain brushed her fringe away from her face, tapping the side of her head. "That psychologist brain of yours never turns off, does it?"

She smiled sheepishly, gaze dipping down to the floor.

Villain's finger hooked under her chin, lifting it gently. "I never said I didn't like it. You are my therapist, after all."

Villain leaned in closer, eliciting the slightest hitch in her breath. He smiled, relishing her response.

His breath ghosted over her lips, leaving them tingling in anticipation.

"Yours?" she asked softly. Her mouth had gone dry.

"Would you like to be?"

Juliet's thoughts were rarely clear on her face. She was difficult to read under the years of training keeping her steady and prepared. Villain wanted to unpick that artificial calm from her; to map her every reaction. He wanted to watch her sigh and blush and smile...

"The eggs are going to burn," Juliet whispered, watching him.

Without taking his eyes off of her, Villain reached over her shoulder, turning off the stove. In one fluid movement, he turned with her, pressing her back against the counter.

If her cheeks were warm before, they were blazing now. Villain smiled again, this time something so fond it dazzled her senses. The world narrowed to just the two of them, flush together.

Juliet's hands fell against Villain's chest, lightly resting against the soft cotton of his shirt.

She breathed in his scent.

"Villain?"

"Mm?" he murmured, the hum of his voice vibrating against her palms.

"When your brother- What he said about how you feel...about me... Is it true?" She held his gaze, holding her breath.

"My sweet Juliet Meadows." His voice alone was enough to melt her. He took one of her hands with deliberate gentleness and placed a kiss against her fingers. "If only I were brave enough to say it out loud."

"You can say it in other ways," Juliet breathed.

His eyes gleamed.

"Oh I intend to," Villain said softly.

Villain's gaze flicked down to Juliet's lips. He kept one hand on her waist, slotting the other into her hair. He leaned in until their lips brushed. Pausing, he seemed to catch himself, probably remembering Juliet's comments in therapy about the importance of healthy communication.

He smiled again, sharp and beautiful. His warm breath grazed her skin while his thumb traced lazy circles against her jaw. "May I?" he whispered, his lips hovering just barely above hers.

Juliet opened her mouth to answer, and-

The door burst open.

Juliet jolted in surprise, panic shooting through her as she gripped Villain's arms before she caught sight of who was really at the door.

The figure was fitted in a deep red super-suit, a black mask concealing his identity.

She relaxed, releasing a breath through gritted teeth. "Hero?"

"Doctor Meadows," Hero said, relief flooding his expression. "I heard what happened to you on the news and with Supervillain's escape, I knew you were in danger so I-"

His eyes narrowed as he seemed to notice Villain for the first time. "You get away from her," he hissed marching closer, crimson beams of tech-powered energy sparking to life in his palms. "Let her go and get out."

Villain hardened at the sight of him in turn, straightening and pulling out an advanced weapon. "Now that's insulting, at least I was invited inside." His voice was smooth and dangerous. Chilling.

A far cry from the man who had held her close and smiled fondly only moments ago.

Juliet stepped between them, holding up a hand in each direction. "Stop."

"You invited him in? Doctor Meadows, he's Supervillain's brother! He's probably here to finish the job for him!"

"Oh that's rich," Villain interjected. "For all your self-righteous monologues begging me to change, to be better, when I actually try, you can't accept it."

"I'm not willing to bet Doctor Meadow's life on your 'moral awakening,'" Hero spat.

"Hero," Juliet said in the no-nonsense voice her job often required her to use. "Take a deep breath. Villain would never hurt me, you don't need to worry about that."

"He-"

"-is in rehabilitation," Juliet finished for him. "He is my patient, just as you are. He has made tremendous progress, you are in no position to discredit his reformation. I promise you that I am safe with him."

Hero stared, studying the pair. Villain's jaw was clenched, glaring hard at the hero. Juliet touched his shoulder and some of the tension immediately dissolved from him.

Hero extinguished the energy beams in his palms, shifting into a less guarded stance. He regarded them for a second longer.

"Alright."

"Alright?"

"You want to prove you have good intentions? Help me find Supervillain and bring him in, for good this time," Hero said. "I can't do it alone."

Villain turned to look at Juliet. She stepped closer, taking his hand as she spoke.

"No. I don't want you to put yourself in a position where your recovery might be compromised again. You're too close to the situation to act rationally, and it would be too much of a trigger for you."

Villain's gaze softened as it landed on her, any hostility in his demeanor vanishing like it had never been there. He brushed her hair back with gentle fingers, leaning in. His thumb dipped down to graze her lips.

Villain kissed her cheek, her chin, the corner of her mouth. He straightened, eyes intent, looking like he wanted to kiss her properly--but not until they were alone.

When time would suspend like frost in the air and the moment would belong solely to the two of them, in the quiet and safety of each other.

Juliet's skin felt cold at the loss of his touch. Dread swirled in the pit of her stomach.

Villain turned to Hero, observing him for a moment before extending a hand to shake. "Deal."

Sorry I haven't posted in so loooong. I kept putting off writing this bc I was worried id mess it up lol. This is officially the longest series I've posted so far (the rest of my snippets have 3 parts or less) so wooo! Let me know if you want to see more :)

General Taglist: @writing-on-the-wahl , @valiantlytransparentwhispers , @distance-does-not-matter , @redbircl , @lilaccatholic , @crazytwentythrees , @thelazywitchphotographer , @deadlygemuwu, @chibicelloking , @lolafaiy , @thinkwrite5 , @putridghost , @tobeornottobeateacher , @sunflower1000 , @bouncyartist , @thanatoastie , @feyriddle , @yet-another-heathen , @silverwhisperer1 , (@distractedlydistracted i think forgot to tag you in the last part, oops)

You're on this list if you've asked to be tagged in any of my stories. Please let me know if you want to be added or removed. :)

Edit: the tags weren't working so I redid them through mobile, let me know if it worked!

#i was editing this in my drafts and it crashed on me so I had to redo all that hahaahha funnn #my writing #writeblr #short story #flash fiction #hero x civilian #hero x villain #villain x hero #civillain x villain #villain x civillian #fiction #superhero #supervillains

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shingia · 4 years

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DATING SUNA...

in honor of this smexy middle blocker’s birthday, here are MANY hcs about what i think dating suna would be like (as exhaustively as possible) bcs he’s on my mind 25/8 <3

cw : one or two suggestive stuff, mentions of food

— EARLY RELATIONSHIP

• ok so suna would definitely not waste his time dating someone if he wasn’t truly in love

• that’s why it took him a few months to ask you out because 1. he wanted to be sure of his feelings 2. he wanted to be sure of yours 3. he was scared

• he probably acted detached at first, but it was just to compensate for the fact that you had him wrapped around your finger since day 1

• he probably didn’t officially tell his friends that you were dating and just casually kissed you before for his class (lowkey enjoyed leaving without a word while everyone else was freaking out)

• nicknames came after a few weeks, when he ‘accidentally’ called you babe after asking for a kiss. yeah he is that smooth

• because it took him so many months to ask you out, you already knew each other pretty well so he felt comfortable around you very quickly

• and he tried his best to make you feel the same if you were a bit more nervous

• honestly he couldn’t wait for you two to become closer over time <3 he's a sucker for the boyfriend/bestfriend dynamic

— LOVE LANGUAGE

->| QUALITY TIME

• he cherishes every single moment you spend together, even if it’s just for a few minutes between classes

• sure, there are times where you two just hang out at his place or yours, scrolling on your phones and enjoying each other’s company. but tell him once that you want to talk to him about something and you’ll have his undivided attention

• and lemme just kdjqdhvjdmsjvh real quick : eye contact. that’s how you know he’s listening, and he always leans in just enough for you to know that he’s paying attention. no phone in sight, just you.

• he doesn’t need to take you out on fancy dates for it to be called quality time, because he values impromptu face-to-face late night conversations much more than a dinner at the restaurant.

— DATES

• your first date was one of the only dates you spent outside, it was nothing extravagant you just went for coffee after school and ended up walking through the city, holding hands for the first time

• once you guys started officially dating, you realized that at-home dates were actually more your thing. but there needs to be a difference with the rest of the time you spend at home, so you always have one or two things planned like :

• cook together an elaborate meal for once, actually put an effort in the choice of the movie/tv show you’re gonna watch (and not end up watching rick and morty for the 23rd time this week), try the most questionable face masks recipes - he loves them and doesn’t even deny it

• but i feel like you guys might go out for your anniversaries, and it’s a great opportunity for him to take really nice pictures of you and update his phone’s lockscreen (he’s a huge simp)

• your dates often take place in the evening because he loves to see your face illuminated by the city lights, and he likes to know that you might get cold because he can be smooth af and give you his jacket (most of the pictures are taken when you’re wearing it)

• i think official and ‘elaborated’ dates with suna maybe occur every two weeks because he wants them to be special and likes to look forward to them

— CUDDLES

• he gets a kick out of kissing your whole face except your lips, but really he’s just waiting for you to get frustrated and kiss him yourself

• however, if you ever don’t play along he’ll stop like “wtf you’re not supposed to do nothing”

• he’ll give you lazy and passive cuddles where you just lay on top of him, hugging him while he watches something on tv or on his phone, BUT

• if he ever wraps a blanket around you then real cuddles begin. i’m talking scalp massages, back strokes, kisses, playing with your hands...

• i just know his kisses are aphrodisiac, there’s something about the way he holds your head still with his hands that’s just UGHHH

• you could be sharing a perfectly peaceful moment together and he’ll suddenly get bored and feel an urge to tickle your sides, squish your cheeks or randomly blow in your face/ear

• but god forbid you ever do that to him, he will crush you with all his weight until you can’t move

• he also uses your hand to scratch his back because he can’t do it without writhing like a cat, not that you’d complain about seeing that one day

• you two always end up dozing and losing track of time. “we stayed like that for NINETY MINUTES?” (he’d have to find an excuse for being late at practice, because there’s no way in hell he will tell the truth in front of the twins)

• it’s very likely that you guys wake up still cuddling after nine hours of sleep. i mean it’s canon that he has a good shoulder mobility so he can keep holding you even if you’ve moved in your sleep

• his biggest struggle is morning cuddles because it’s really hard for him to get out of bed and go on with his day when he’s so comfortable in bed with you

— PDA

• i think he’d adapt to your needs, he doesn’t really mind pda

• if he ever pulls you in for a hug in public, it won’t always be a soft and sweet hug, no. sometimes it might look like a literal headlock, but he’ll give you a quick peck on the head to make up for it

• in fact the only times his hugs are sweet and lovey in public are after his matches

• if atsumu ever makes fun of him for ‘being a softie’, he’ll do the exact opposite of what’s expected of him : and by that i mean ruthlessly tongue-kiss you until tsumu begs him to stop

• he uses hugs as a way to talk shit to you about someone without them realizing it

• he doesn’t necessarily hold your hand all the time but he has affectionate gestures like giving you little pats on the head or wiping dirt off of your clothes

• pokes your cheek for no reason, and that’s daily

• he’s also a fricken tease and doesn’t have any problem with gripping your thigh when you’re sat at a table :)

— COUPLE DYNAMIC

• he tries so hard to act like you’re the clingy one but everyone knows it’s a lie

• he probably has a private story called ‘being held against my will’ where it’s just him roasting you on a daily basis

• which is a great contrast with all the albums full of pictures of you in his camera roll. like i said, he’s a MAJOR SIMP

• you also have a private story called ‘exposing the truth’ and it’s filled with stolen clichés of him being a needy and whiny little bïtch (sorry i got carried away) : it’s the twins’ main source of blackmail

• i said before that suna’s a sucker for the boyfriend/bestfriend dynamic. yeah well you guys definitely have it - you can spend entire afternoons together without once acting like a couple

• he’d give you a kidney if you ever needed one, but steal one of his fries and he’ll flip your chair over without thinking twice

• you both think that your failed attempts at being romantic are hilarious. one time he tried to kiss you under the rain but you were so cold that you couldn’t stop your teeth from chattering and yeah it was just terrible

• the efforts you put in to embarrass each other are remarkable. you once kissed him in a supermarket and he just pulled away, yelling “MOM AND DAD SAID NOT IN PUBLIC !”

— RANDOM HCS THAT GIVE ME LIFE

• remember when i said you guys would do face masks together ? yeah well suna doesn’t own any headband which means that you have to tie his hair up in two pigtails at the front (it’s too short for one ponytail or a bun hehe)

• he has a silent laugh, the kind of laugh where he just wheezes while slapping his thighs, and he has to make a conscious effort to catch his breath

• he tugs on your sleeve whenever he wants to show you something <3

• in winter he writes messages on the frost of your car’s windows. nothing cheesy, probably something along the lines of “nice ass”

• he thinks it’s hilarious that your contact name in his phone is your full name, no emojis, nothing. he even put caps at the beginning

• he sends you 30 tiktoks per day and expects you to answer to all of them

• he makes you playlists for the dumbest things. one of them is called ‘dentist appointment vibes’

• he likes to see you wear many layers of clothing in winter because he takes great pride in being the only one to know what’s hiding under them *wink*

• when he’s driving, he often tries to be smooth and stare at you lovingly when he’s at a red light, but he always misses the moment when it turns green and the other drivers start to furiously honk at him (another failed attempt at being romantic)

• i’m gonna be honest w/ you : he’s probably effortlessly seggsy when he drives

in conclusion : you might not be the most romantic couple, but your vibes are 𝑖𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 because you’re both so madly in love with each other

pspsps: here’s a link to my suna playlist that fuels my mind with thousands of scenarios

#did i just describe my ideal relationship? yessir 🙃#haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna headcanons #suna fluff #suna rintaro headcanons #suna x you #suna rintarou x reader

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pinkchanelbag · 4 years

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it’s okay; stay

armin arlert x reader

wc: 4k

cw: angst, comfort, pain, childhood flashbacks? armin getting beat up </3 not proofread

note: yes i cried while writing this.

do you remember the days when things were so hopeless that not even he had a way out of it, and all he could do was offer eyes as big as sky-blue plates, and a hand under the table to hold, to anchor you to something when you so badly wanted to drift away. to anchor you to him.

this was how it was, and this was how it continued to be, and as the feeling of impermanence faded, as your bunk bed in the girls’ quarters filled with more personal belongings and you subconsciously scooted backwards from the edge of your seat, stopped standing on tip-toes, you sunk back into your life, and somehow, into armin. as you found more ways to manipulate your daily routine to fit in more time alone with him, you found that you were your most lucid when you were staring down at a pale palm that you held in both hands, tracing the countless ravines of warm skin and looking for patterns or shapes or words. sometimes his fingers twitched when it tickled, and sometimes you’d tell him what word you had spelled out into his flesh and he’d laugh before continuing reading whatever book his nose was so attached to.

the memories move too fast and are too painful. you try your best to maneuver away from the ones that most ache, but each path seems worse than the last.

you’d met him when you were wearing a pale blue dress that stopped at your knees. you only remember this fact because you remember the way it felt as you gripped the fabric close to keep yourself from crying out at the sight of your older brother and his friends kicking at a smaller boy behind a house. you were hidden away after a prompt threat from your brother to go unseen and unheard, because if you interfered or got the bullies caught, he’d make your life an indefinite hell. he’d done it before and he’d do it again, so you stayed out across the road in an alley, your dress turning into a wrinkled wreck between your tiny fingers. there you stayed until the toothless brainless boys had their fill, backing up and shoving shoulders in kudos before running off in a hurry. characteristically, your brother had forgotten to come back for you. you didn’t care. you hated his presence.

a tiny blond heap sputtered and coughed on the floor some distance away. tears sprung to your eyes. you didn’t care. you hated him.

the lump on the floor moaned and rolled over in an attempt at a first step to mobility, which was to no avail as he—the young boy whose scuffed face you now saw—stared up at the sky. it lasted all of two seconds before he gasped and scrambled onto all fours, injuries forgotten as his eyes whipped around the scene of the assault. they landed on something and scurried to it. you narrowed your eyes and watched him dust off a half-wrecked book, sighing and pressing it to his chest. a tear curled over your eye and fell down your chubby cheek. he was a good boy. he laid back against the back of the tall house, and you tucked yourself further down the alley to avoid sighting, but you still watched him, feeling like you’d discovered something sort of very precious.

the next time you saw him was when your mom sent you to the market with a basket and a few coins to buy vegetables for dinner. you were happy to be allowed on your own without the “protection” of your deceptively polite brother. you were confident and unbothered as you took your time to stroll through the vendors. and then you saw him, and some part of you short-circuited. somewhere on the other side of your brain, something launched into overdrive, and you suppose this is what brought your feet forward to stand before him as he eyed a booth of crystals.

“what are you looking at?” you asked dumbly. your voice and presence scared him out of his skin for a good few moments and he froze for a good five seconds before stammering his answer.

“um, i’m looking at, at crystals,” he said. you smiled a little, deciding you liked how he talked. you looked at the table before you, tilting your head curiously.

“why would someone pay for these? couldn’t you just go into the forest and find them yourself?” your tone was incredulous, but when you looked back at armin, he was bewildered to see genuine wonder in your eyes, expecting an answer. an answer from him.

he fiddled with his fingers. “well, these are different, i think. they come from all over the walls and they all have different names and stuff. you wouldn’t be able to find them around here, i think.”

you nodded in comprehension, again looking at the assortment before bending down and pointing to a particular one.

“i like this one,” you said, suddenly sheepish. you clasped your hands to the handle of your basket and looked down.

“that’s called amethyst,” he said shyly, eyeing the deep purple rock with white flecks as it sparkled in the sun. his eyes shifted to you and stayed there for a few seconds before he decided what to do next.

“i’m armin,” he said, and you looked up to see a small hand extended to you. your momentary hesitation had him stuttering, “um, my grandpa said it’s polite to shake someone’s hand when you meet them.”

you really smiled this time, and armin smiled with you. you put your hand in his.

“i’m y/n.”

even at your fresh age, you knew that what you found in armin was different. even when he introduced you to his friends eren and mikasa, who welcomed you without reserve and taught you about love different from that which was familial, compulsory, you knew armin was like no other. you were too young to make sense of it, but it felt like in some way you’d been friends all along but hadn’t met yet; as though it was only a matter of time before you met or maybe you’d met before and forgotten. a ridiculous notion, but you were young, and happy.

things were wonderful.

until, weeks later, as you trudged behind your brother and a few of his friends, who were bored and lazy for the day, you smacked into your brother’s back by accident, not having been looking in front of you. he barely acknowledged you, instead bumping you off his shoulders as he and his friends pointed at a grounded nest of baby birds. interested, you stood on tip toes and peaked over your brother’s shoulder.

“y/n?”

you froze at the soft, questioning voice that called on you from your left. of course it was him, this you didn’t need to look to confirm, but you did anyway. his face sunk in a way that tore at your heart, but still he looked at you with questioning eyes that fell between you and the bullies you now stood amidst, asking for an explanation.

you couldn’t give him one, but you mouthed an “i’m sorry” before armin gathered his wits and silently backtracked his steps before the boys saw him and found something to satiate their boredom.

you didn’t see him for ages, half because he was never around and half because of the shame that paralyzed you. how selfish of you, to accept armin’s friendship when you’d been a person who enabled his suffering?

it wasn’t until almost an entire week later that you saw eren by the river near the market. he sat with a bored expression on his face, head thrown back. he was the most prickly of the trio, and even though you were sure he wouldn’t be pleasant to you, your feet sped towards him.

“eren!” you called, but when his eyes met yours, they turned cold, and immediately he got up to leave. “please wait! please! let me explain!” you stopped a few feet away from him, and he looked over his shoulder at you, and the look on his face made you crumble slightly.

“there’s nothing to explain. if those are the type of the people you hang around, then we don’t want anything to do with you. do you even know half the things they’ve done to armin?” he sneered.

“i do,” you said quietly. eren scoffed, just about ready to leave, until he heard the next bit. “…because they do it to me too.”

from there on, really, it was easy to win back eren’s loyalty, as he had barred you from seeing armin until you put some sort of stop to the abuse he suffered at the hands of your brother. he had said that it wasn’t enough that you were helpless, and that you needed to find a way to help armin out of this, because you’re in a unique position to help and because that’s what friends do. and he was right, and you did it.

on one of those evenings when your brother’s irritating snores didn’t fill the room you shared, you sat upright in bed until the boy himself attempted to sneak back through the window—he was about as subtle as a loosed horse.

he almost jumped out of his skin when he saw your moon-illuminated figure.

“what are you doing!?” he whisper-yelled. your voice was small enough that you didn’t need to whisper, and this way, you were able to fein strength in your voice. part of you thought about how maybe the power was there all along, but your passive nature put not use to it until you made your own friends. armin introduced you to courage, you realized, and you couldn’t help but smile in the dark.

“i know that you sneak out to wreck the farm fences next to jonah’s house,” you said. even in the dark, you could sense his hackles rise.

“so?” he replied, daring you to say the words he thought you might.

“pa said if you did one more bad thing he’d send you to uncle’s ranch to work for the entire summer.” you saw his shoulders tense at perhaps the only thing that scared him.

“there’s something i want from you…”

“and?” he said, seething.

“…and if you don’t do it, i’ll tell mama and pa all the bad things you’ve been doing.”

—

“this really isn’t necessary…” his soft voice spoke, and your heart ached a little at hearing it. eren shushed him while mikasa stood silent as usual, and you stood some distance away from them and waited.

it wasn’t long before your brother’s gang came trudging down the path before the four of you. you could see your brother angrily muttering at one of the other boys who looked displeased. when they spotted you and the others, they made a small ruckus of shoving and incredulous sounds, but your brother had them under control in a moment before looking in front of him.

his eyes met yours first, and you saw the hatred. for once, you didn’t care, and even returned it gracefully, hands clasped in front of you and shoulders tall. he held your gaze for only a few moments longer before conceding and looking at the trio that stood in the middle of the path. eren and mikasa stood in front of armin, but not in his field of vision, ready to defend him. but it wasn’t necessary. after a few moments, your brother shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded begrudgingly, aggressively, at armin, without meeting his eyes. armin’s chest seemed to deflate slightly with relief, tension in his fists gone at the sight of his bully surrendering.

and then they left.

and as soon as they did, armin pushed past eren and came towards you with a smile. you spoke the words that had been close to bursting for the past week, that you wanted to say a million times over to him if it meant he could believe them to be true.

“i’m sorry,” you blurted, and armin blinked in slight surpise before he made eye contact with you, now right in front of you.

“it’s okay,” he said. the words were slow and soft as if he wanted them to materialize in the air for you to see. you couldn’t help it when your eyes teared up as you stared at his blue ones, so impossibly untainted and unnatural in their own right, different than the river or grass fields or pretty crystals or anything at all. for a moment you had a silly thought about all the crazy things armin had told you about the outside, none of them making sense and sounding so supernatural that they surely couldn’t be real, and for a moment you thought that if somehow they were real, these eyes, these impossible orbs were made from the same stuff. supernatural stuff, stuff of nonsense, and that they belonged out there and not in here.

and then he offered you his hand, and you cleared away the mess of over-mature thinking by resolving that he was here now, and you’d be by his side while you had him. for as long as you could.

you look upon him now. you look at supernatural eyes that peer down at mikasa, quiet, powerful mikasa, holding her back from the sound of boot hitting bone. his eyes tell her that this is what needs to happen.

you stand close to the wall, not innocent in the eyes of the soldiers around you but not as guilty as the titan shifter who sits on the floor with blood seeping into his mouth, a disappointed captain before him.

you haven’t been restrained—yet—because of eren’s claim that he more or less forced your hand, as he had done to everyone else when he planned his scheme. it wasn’t entirely untrue. eren told you what he hoped to do all that time ago, because he needed your help. he wouldn’t go to mikasa because of her priority for his safety nor to armin for his priority on peaceful resolve. eren knew you were neither emotionally attached to his wellbeing nor against necessary violence. you didn’t want to do it, didn’t want to act as a spy who gathered information for eren on his best means of communication, the weakest link the command for him to access, and all other needs. but eren told you he’d do it whether you joined him or not, and he wouldn’t ask anyone else, and that having a second hand to facilitate his intelligence would drastically increase his chances of seeing his plan through, therefor the chances of the survey corps making it out of this alive.

no one has come to talk to you yet, but you know that you’ll be dealt with, and you could already predict the questions. when they ask you why you didn’t find another way, you won’t have an answer. you’re sure armin would’ve found a better way and convinced eren of it, or that mikasa would’ve never allowed him to sneak out like he did. but you’re not either of those people, and so when they ask, you won’t have an answer.

for now, all you can do is memorize the faces and figures of your friends whom you haven’t seen in so long. you note mikasa’s hair that’s even shorter than before. the titan markings beneath armin’s eyes. eyes that you avoid desperately because they hurt to look at. they’re just as entrancing, but it’s different now. he finally made it outside the walls. and all that used to be nonsense isn’t anymore. now it’s just the way the world goes, vast and cruel and sometimes beautiful, and those blue catastrophes fit right in.

when he stood at the door of the aircraft and didn’t wait longer than seconds, mere seconds, before he reached out a hand to take his best friend’s, the man who’d turned him into a killer. a crushing truth for you to realize, and as such you can’t even bear to think of armin’s own feelings about it. and yet, he looked him in the eyes. and yet, he took eren’s hand, and in the way only soulbound people can, he spoke words into eren’s heart that only they two could know.

the knowledge of this alone is so much to bare that for the next night and day, you don’t dare go near them.

almost twenty-four hours pass and still all you can do is stare ahead at food rations on the table before you. the aircraft kitchen is small and has exactly three tables lined up for seating. two soldiers sit at the table furthest from you and talk in quiet murmurs while you sit alone, unable to eat.

the door opens and before you can even command your sluggish mind to take note of it, armin is sitting beside you. once you realize it, your whole body tenses. your head instinctually moves to look in his direction, but you stop it before it can, casting a sidelong look in his direction. there’s a book in his hand that he places on his other side. from your peripheral, he doesn’t look at you either. he stares ahead, but you can’t see his face to read what he wants.

“i’ve given you space.”

your entire chest tightens at the sound of his voice. he’s a man now, but somehow the soft timbre is as clear as it was so that “i’ve given you space” sounds not so very different from “i’m looking at crystals.”

“i thought maybe that’s what you needed. but now i don’t know. now i feel like you’re just avoiding me.”

breathing becomes near impossible. you watch you own chest rise and fall heavily and wonder how you can still feel no air in your throat. you can’t look at him. you don’t dare.

“y/n.” don’t say that, you think, the first thought you’ve managed since he got the jump on you. he turns to you then, and still you don’t look. “are you avoiding me?”

you tell yourself you won’t look, won’t talk, won’t acknowledge he’s there, but as soon as he asks you the question, you feel a reply formulating. you don’t have the ability to refuse him. you’re at his mercy, even if it’ll break you.

“i don’t know how to be around you,” you say in a choppy, breathless whisper. armin leans in to hear it, and now you can feel his breath, smelling of brown sugar and fruits from his lunch. at feeling him so close to you after so many months, you suck in your top lip as if it’ll keep you together.

“why not?” and he’s hurt. you can hear it. all his hurt seeps out his pours and all the holes in his body so that even if you don’t look into his face, you can feel it stabbing at your heart. guilt. guilt.

“i’ve caused you pain.” the words are too much, and your chin trembles uncontrollably. the door opens to let in two more soldiers who turn into the kitchen and begin rummaging through a drawer. you bow your head to hide the evident grief on your face. armin breathes onto your cheek and thinks and thinks.

“eren made you do it, y/n. it wasn’t your fault.”

you shake your head lightly.

“‘should’ve done more.” the two soldiers mull over their options of snacks for awhile.

“y/n.” how you wish he’d stop saying your name. “y/n, look at me.” deviantly, you shut your eyes, stiffening your face as much as you possibly can, because you can’t hold on much longer, not when he keeps pushing you like this. not in front of other soldiers, you beg him in your mind. and maybe in a way he understands, because it’s not until the pair in the kitchen have selected a food and walked out that armin raises a hand to your chin and delicately guides your head to face him. you suck in a breath and squeeze your mouth shut to hold onto the anguish inside you, and then you’re looking at him. the first of your tears falls when you see the concerned, pained set of his brow, his soft lips downturned like a sad pup. his eyes. they burn into you. they wither the fabric of your soul.

“y/n,” he says again, letting go of your chin. you know he can’t find words to say, because there are no words. no words for all that’s happened and all you’ve done. rather than speaking, he does something much worse.

he reaches into your lap where your hands are clasped by the fingers in an iron grip. panic fills your features as you shake your head fearfully at him, but he doesn’t exercise mercy on you as he takes your two hands into one of his, warm and scarred and you can’t breathe.

he pulls your hands to his own lap, and in a stroke of—all you can call it—madeness, he delicately pulls your hands apart and places one of his own on his lap, palm facing the ceiling. he settles one of your hands on his palm and nestles the other one underneath, as if guiding you to hold one of his hands with yours. immediately, you understand the words he’s delivered to your heart. your face crumbles, shoulders sag. you stare into his palm and trace shaky fingers across ridges where beneath skin lies bones. you feel each line that builds to make peculiar images and spell all kinds of words, that forms the illustration of a boy filled to the brim with pain and somehow exhuming only love. a beaten boy lying behind a house and staring into the sky, a boy whose eyes don’t really resemble anything at all because maybe they’re unearthly, an entire world unto themselves, a boy whose mere existence pains you because you can’t take his pain away and he’s far too pure to have endure so much. a good boy.

tears drip onto your pants and take over your cheeks in silent anarchy, because you can’t take whatever it is this boy is made out of. because he offers his hand to you and still meets your eyes after everything, and because his palm spells forgiveness.

your eyes find his, and say there in silent grief as your hands touch. his gaze is calm, peaceful, assuring. in it you see refuge. redemption. you think that maybe your soul can take it. you bare all of yourself to him in one look, but you trust him completely.

after some time, the two soldiers remaining get up and dispose of their dishes in the sink, casting side glances at the colossal titan and the rogue soldier who hold hands on the eating table. they take their leave.

you try to put it into words. and of course, of course there are none.

“armin,” you breathe. you inhale sharply, because finally it comes. “oh, armin…” you sob, slowly descending into his chest. his arms come around you, and he cradles the back of your head and holds your upper body against himself. you grip his shoulders for dear life and lay your face into his neck, finally, finally, weeping.

“i’m sorry,” you choke. your tears are hot and wet on his neck.

“it’s okay,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “it’s okay.” you shake your head as if to say it’s not and he runs a hand up and down your back as if to say it is. i promise it is.

he reaches behind him to pull one of your hands off his shoulder and hold it in his own, bringing them to his chest. your close contact makes it so both your hands press against both your ribcages at once, and astonishingly, you can hear two heartbeats.

“armin,” your body shakes in his embrace.

he squeezes your hand hard enough to hurt, but you squeeze back just as tight. as if to say to you, stay with me, and as if to tell him, i will. i will.

#this fic was written over the duration of like 2 weeks so sorry if it’s choppy!#nia.txt #nia.armin #aot #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #eren yeager #attack on titan season 4 #eren yaeger headcanons #attack on titan spoilers #eren jeager x reader #armin arlert #armin arlet x reader #armin smut #armin headcanons #armin x reader #armin arlert imagine #armin attack on titan #armin aot

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Ash and Dust Part 10- Here to Talk

18+ Dabi x fem!reader (MINORS DNI)

Summary: You first meet Dabi on the worst night of your life after unwittingly walking into the very bar the League of Villains made infamous. That should probably be the end of the story. You stumble on the remnants of one of the most infamous terrorist groups in the history of Japan, get viciously murdered or call the cops and get them arrested, the end. Except that’s not the end of the story. It’s only the beginning.

Link to change y/n to your actual name (not mobile compatible)

Masterlist Kofi (Help Lulu)

The first thing you notice when you wake up the next morning is that you’re sweating.

The second thing you notice is that the reason you feel so hot is because Dabi’s plastered across your back, an arm thrown around your waist, all of his body heat radiating against you. You don’t dare move and risk waking him up, afraid that he’ll pull away or lash out the minute he does so. You shift the tiniest bit to get more comfortable and immediately the arm around your waist tightens. You hold your breath but the act seems to have been entirely reflexive, Dabi’s slow, even breathing a clear indication that he’s still asleep. Your heart hammers in your chest but you decide you may as well embrace it. You can’t remember the last time you’d been held by someone and it feels nice, even if you know Dabi may very well kill you when he realizes. That’s a problem for future you, you decide, allowing yourself to relax and settle more fully against the warm body behind you. There is something incredibly soothing about resting directly against Dabi’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of it against your back. Just as you feel your eyelids getting heavy again you catch the faintest hint of movement on the other side of the room. You know you should investigate but the moment is so peaceful and Dabi’s arms are so comfortable, so you assure yourself you were probably just imagining things anyway and let yourself drift back to sleep with the quiet beating of Dabi’s heart as a lullaby.

When you wake up again it’s to an empty bed. You follow the sound of drawers opening and closing and metal clanking to your kitchen to find Dabi just finishing making breakfast. He makes a plate for one and sits down at your kitchen table but you notice there’s plenty more to eat still on the stove. “You made breakfast?” you ask curiously, surprise heavily coloring your tone. “Clearly you were being too lazy to do it Doll and someone has to pull their weight in this house,” he quips. “I’m sorry which one of us pays rent again?” “Which one of us allows the other to live again?”

You roll your eyes as Dabi smirks at you but you can’t help but flash back to the previous day. Dabi’s rage is burned fresh into your memory, not because it was briefly directed at you, but because it had seemed so pained. You’d never seen him seem so lost. Regardless of how Endeavor treated him, that was still his dad and now the man was dead without Dabi ever really getting closure.

“Hey... So are we going to talk about yesterday?” you finally ask and immediately the smirk drops from Dabi’s face, his gaze going as icy as the blue of his eyes.

“No.”

“I feel like we should talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“But-”

“Drop it before I fucking make you.”

You open your mouth to challenge him again, thoughts of self-preservation be damned, when your phone rings. You sigh heavily, giving Dabi a look that says you aren’t prepared to drop the conversation although he’s pointedly ignoring you now, and answer your phone. “Hello?” you ask, trying not to let your exasperation show in your tone. “(Y/l/n),” a familiar voice states simply over the phone. “Oh! Todoroki! What’s up? You make a decision on my merch designs?” you ask, excitement edging into your voice. You hear Dabi scoff and when you whip around to face him you see he’s already standing from his seat and moving towards the door. You quickly cover the receiver and in a harsh whisper ask him where he’s going but he ignores your question, choosing to flip you off instead before storming out the apartment. You roll your eyes hard before realizing that Todoroki’s been speaking the whole time and you’ve missed it. “Sorry, what’d you say?” you ask sheepishly, although if your apparent inattentiveness bothers Shouto he doesn’t show it.

“I said I do approve of all the merch designs but I actually was calling to ask a favor.”

“Oh ok, what’s up?”

“I was wondering if you could paint a portrait of Endeavor for me. It’d be a bit of a rush order.”

“What?”

It’s hard to hide your genuine surprise at the question. As far as you’d heard, Shouto wasn’t his father’s biggest fan.

“Listen, if it were up to just me I’d throw the old man in a casket and call it a day,” Todoroki sighs.

You’re shocked at his candor and tone. It’s a stark contrast to the soft spoken, elegant, and composed image you usually see of him on tv.

“But my mother and sister asked and it would mean a lot to them. There’s going to be a large national memorial service in about a week and if you could finish it by then that would be amazing but I know it’s a short timeline. If you can’t meet that deadline it’s not the end of the world. We’re planning to do a small family vigil at the gravesite in a month or so once my brother has a slightly less hectic schedule,” Shouto finishes explaining.

“Oh, is he a pro hero also?” you ask curiously.

“No, he’s studying to be a doctor. He’s currently in a residency program, hence the inflexible schedule.”

“Makes sense.”

“Well (y/l/n), can I count on you?”

“Yea, of course. As long as you don’t mind me putting the merch line on the back burner for a bit.”

“Of course not. And of course you’ll be compensated handsomely for your efforts.”

“My regular rate is just fine but thank you. I’ll let you know as soon as it’s done,” you assure Shouto.

He thanks you and shortly afterwards you say your goodbyes and hang up. Your eyes wander back to your front door and you briefly debate chasing after Dabi again. You don’t want to piss him off any more than you already have this morning so in the end you decide that the last thing either of you needs is for you to waste the whole day trying to hunt him down again. Instead, you may as well get started on your newest project, going to grab your sketchbook and laptop so you can practice with a few reference photos first and get a feel for what you intend to do for the portrait.

By the time Dabi returns it’s late, the sun having long since set as he creeps through the small, crowded space of your apartment. He navigates over to your bedroom, fully expecting you to be asleep already but is surprised to find you blinking blearily at your sketchbook with a sketching pencil still in hand as you fight to stay awake, your side table lamp the only lightsource in the room.

“What the fuck are you doing Doll?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

It takes you a moment to register his presence, dragging glazed eyes up to meet his before they widen slightly in recognition and what looks suspiciously like relief, although Dabi dismisses the thought almost as quickly as it comes.

“Wanted t’ make sure you came home before I wen’ t’ sleep,” you all but slur drowsily. Dabi rolls his eyes but doesn’t otherwise respond, choosing instead to pull off his shirt and pants before crawling into the bed and making himself comfortable with his back turned towards you.

“Hey Dabi?”

“What?”

“I know you don’ wanna talk but if y’ ever do ‘m here,” you admit softly, before killing the light and laying down to fall asleep yourself.

Dabi doesn’t reply to you, brushing your words off as the senseless ramblings of an incredibly drowsy idiot.

If his traitorous heart dares to pound double time in his chest, well that’s his business and his alone.

A/N: I think even with the growth that Endeavor has made, Todoroki still wouldn't be able to fully forgive him. Like I think Shouto would accept him back into the family but they'd never be close and the complicated feelings would always be there. I said I wasn't gonna post this until the 10th but I'm impatient so here it is three days early lmao

Taglist: @thechroniclesofawriter @simpsfortodoroki @ahtsuwu @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @tina-98 @vibesdontlie @clubfairy @oddball215 @myfavoriteficsandsuch

#hopelessad #dabi x y/n #dabi x fem!reader #todoroki touya #bnha dabi #touya x fem!reader #touya x y/n

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ohnopoe · 4 years

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Personal Hero | Marcus Moreno

Ship: Marcus Moreno x Reader Summary: When work is getting you down, you don’t need Marcus Moreno, the superhero, you need Marcus Moreno, your personal hero. Word Count: 2.6k+ Warnings: Some self deprecating thoughts (not many, but I’d rather you be safe than sorry) & food mentions Author’s Note: This is incredibly late, but for @meshlamando! I’m so sorry it took so damn long, I hope it has at least a little comfort in there for you! One day I'll learn the right compromise between hurt & comfort... I don't think I got there today...

The shrill ringing of your mobile cut through your office, sending thoughts flying in every which way at the sudden sound. Irritation bubbled away steadily as you put the damn thing on silent without so much as a glance at the caller ID.

Reports had been thrown in your direction from the moment you had arrived, a never ending list of time restraints and deadlines that seemed to be constantly encroaching on your mental stability, and, quite simply, you didn’t have the time for anything else that could be added to your to do list.

So, the call was quickly pushed from your mind in favour of, was that an accounting report? How had that become your responsibility?

Any thoughts of having your lunch break were dismissed, a luxury you just didn’t have time for as the pile seemed to grow before your very eyes. A fresh cup of coffee, that was all you had time for, and even that gained judgemental glances from your boss as you rushed back from the small kitchenette. But it was a break, of sorts. A few minutes to remind yourself that there actually was something outside of black ink on white paper and luminescent screens that were determined to give you a migraine.

But, as you made your way back to your chair, your phone began to vibrate in your pocket, demanding your attention once more. A quick glance, you could get away with that, surely.

A soft smile seemed to find its home on your lips in an instant as the name Marcus Moreno popped up with a ridiculous picture you’d taken of him some months earlier. But, as your gaze quickly met the disapproving glare of your boss, you knew you couldn’t answer, even if it technically was still your lunch break.

Placing the phone down with a sigh, and more than a smidgen of guilt, you watched as it rang out, fading into a notification. Two missed calls, both from Marcus.

Well, if you hadn’t felt bad moments ago, you certainly did now.

But you didn’t have time to dwell on your failings when yet another manilla folder found its way into your inbox; the sticky note on top demanding it be finished before start of day tomorrow.

The hum of vibrations drew your attention from the email you had been writing, dragging over the surprisingly empty office to where your mobile danced across the corner of your desk, each vibration bringing it ever closer to the edge. A quick glance around to confirm you really were alone, another to check the time, realising just why you were so alone, and you were reaching for the device eagerly.

It didn’t matter that you still had hours of work ahead of you, or that your coworkers were all too happy to go home on time and leave you to deal with their messes alone. It didn’t matter that your stomach had been grumbling for hours now, or that your eyes felt so dry that the tears that threatened to break through at the thought of your situation would actually be a welcome relief. It only mattered that, for some miraculous reason, he was calling again, and this time you could finally answer, finally hear his voice and get a few minutes of reprieve from the insanity of your day.

“Hey, sorry I missed your call earlier, works been crazy,” the words came out in a mess, one falling into another as your exhaustion made itself known quite clearly.

“As long as you’re ok,” it would have been impossible to miss the concern in Marcus’ tone, even through your receiver and weary state of being. A small smile played at the corners of your lips, his words a gentle reminder of just how lucky you were, at least, when it came to your personal life.

“I’ll be just fine,” you offered with a sigh that sounded suspiciously like a yawn.

“You should come home,” Marcus offered with a soft chuckle, his voice warm and enticing, relaxing you far more than it ought to do.

A chuckle of your own escaped at the suggestion, shaking your head to yourself in the emptiness of your office. “Not likely to happen any time soon, I’m afraid. I’ve got at least a few more hours of stuff left to do.”

“As your boss, I’m telling you, come home, it’s after six, you need rest. I’ll order pizza, Missy’s at a friends, we can have a lazy evening on the couch…”

Damn that sounded enticing, but as you spun around in your chair, the sight of your to do list practically mocked you, silently reminding you of the deadlines you had been given.

It didn’t matter that Marcus was now the head of the whole damn Heroics organisation, your department head would never let you get away with leaving things unfinished, and she’d already made it quite clear what she thought of your relationship with the boss.

A heavy sigh, filled with exhaustion and wariness was the only answer you could give. You didn’t want to disappoint him, of course not. This was Marcus Moreno, for goodness sake, the man deserved nothing but the best, but there wasn’t much you could do. This was your job, and, as much as you loved him, as much as you wanted to be all the things he deserved, you simply couldn’t be that all the time.

“I’m sorry,” there was a weight to your words that went beyond simply coming home late.

It seemed, no matter what you did, you were disappointing someone of late. You weren’t working hard enough, you weren’t home enough, you hadn’t brought coffees for the entire department (when had that even become a thing?). No matter where you looked, it felt as though you were competing with something, something you couldn’t see, something you never had a chance of surpassing. People’s expectations.

There was a pause on the line, a silence that only solidified your guilt. Marcus was too nice to call you out on your absence of late, too sweet to remind you that you hadn’t had a date night in weeks now, but his silence reminded you all on its own.

It weighed heavily on you, as if it had been sitting in the shadows, slowly growing in the dark recesses of your mind without your knowledge, growing until it became the insurmountable mass that sat on your shoulders now.

Late nights, no time to relax, no time to recover, it all came together, wearing at you in a silent tundra of exhaustion.

“You have nothing to apologise for.” It was said softly, but there was a determination behind his words, a tone you heard so rarely, but one that you knew nonetheless. It was the same voice he’d use to reprimand a heroic who went too far or didn’t listen, the same tone he used when Missy had been caught sneaking out one night to go explore an abandoned skatepark with friends. There was no debating this, no need for a discussion. This was simply a fact, one Marcus was determined you would accept.

But it wasn’t that easy.

Just because Marcus believed something wholeheartedly, it didn’t make it so for you. He believed in the best of people, always tried to see the positive in things, and was, quite simply, one of the best people you had ever had the pleasure of knowing.

So, when he said something with such conviction, it was hard to disagree, hard to say no to, no matter how you felt.

A half hearted ‘hmm’ was all you could offer in response, neither agreeing nor fighting him on the matter, and resulting in an inaudible sigh from the other side of the line.

The silence that sat between you lingered on, acting like a vast gap that seemed to stretch on and on, only further dragging you into that endless aching. It hurt to be apart, to deny what you both wanted for what had to be done, but it hurt to disappoint him even more.

There was a reluctance in his tone as he spoke up once more, softly, uncertainly. “I should let you get back to it then,” the words came across forlorn, as if the certainty he had felt when dispelling your apology had faded into something sadder, something deeper, and it twinged at your heart.

You nodded in silent response, your tired mind only reminding you he couldn’t see you moments too late. “Yeah, I should try and get back to this,” you agreed, even if it sounded anything but enthusiastic. “I’ll see you when I get home,” you began, glancing over at just how ridiculous the pile still was… god only knew when you might actually get out of there. “Don’t wait up.”

Time was inching onwards, drawn out and slow moving, almost taunting you. You wanted to be getting through your work, wanted to at least feel productive, but no matter how long you pushed your way forwards, it felt like no headway was really being made. An hour had passed since you had spoken to Marcus, but it felt so much longer, especially with only one file being completed since then.

Worst of all, you truly were focused. It wasn’t as if your mind had been distracted, even if it had tried very hard to fill your thoughts with reminders of failures at every turn. You were working, and working hard, your attention only given to the work at hand, and it still didn’t seem to be enough.

You were so focused, in fact, that you didn’t even hear the doors opening, or the sounds of footsteps coming ever closer. You didn’t hear the half amused, half exasperated huff of laughter that came from the man who was making his way towards you, you didn’t even notice when his shadow danced over the paperwork before you, pulling figures away from the light as he stared down at you with an unreadable expression on his features.

No, it wasn’t until a large box landed on your notes, causing you to jump with a yelp, that you even noticed you were no longer alone.

Laughter came easier now, richer, softer, and actually noticed by you as you spun around in shock to take in the sight of one Marcus Moreno, long since changed into his casual attire, standing beside your desk, watching you with that fond smile you’d often catch from across the room.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked as you attempted to calm your racing heart. It wasn’t the question you wanted to ask, no, but somehow it seemed easier, lighter even.

“I just got here,” he spoke with that same gentleness he always seemed to have when it was just you two.

Guilt played at the edges of your thoughts, trying to tempt you forwards into those haunting thoughts and regrets, reminders that he had to come back to work to see you, to spend time with you, when you’d only just moved in with him about a month beforehand. It shouldn’t have been this hard, you shouldn’t have been forced to be so distant, he deserved better.

But as much as the guilt and anguish tried to take over your mind, it had no real chance, not when that dimple was showing, not when you could breathe in his smell. No, Marcus Moreno was like a warden, keeping the negative thoughts at bay, as if they couldn’t bare to even try to cross him, as if they simply didn’t belong in the same room as him.

He was a hero, everyone knew that, hell, he was the leader of the heroics, but it was this, his very own superpower, far more special than his control over metal, that made him a hero to you. He held a power unlike any other, the power to let you breathe.

Even with exhaustion playing at your mind, even with the insurmountable piles of work still ahead of you, he could calm you with just his presence, and you would never cease to be in awe of that.

“Break time?” he raised his brows in question, pointing towards the box which had both given you such a startle, and been entirely ignored since his arrival.

You hadn’t even bothered to really look at it, so used to things being thrown on your desk throughout the day that seeing whatever offending item could have been added to your pile hadn’t even been a consideration. But now, with the embarrassment beginning to ease, and the delicious smells wafting in your direction, you could finally acknowledge the large pizza box that demanded your attention away from your papers.

“Marcus I-”

“No, you’re taking a break,” he shook his head as he interrupted what was no doubt about to be a slew of sad excuses for why you didn’t have time for this. “You’ve been working your butt off all day, it’s dinner time for goodness sake. We’re going to sit down, have some pizza, talk about something that’s not work related, and then, if you really want to finish whatever you have to do, well, we’ll do that together.”

There it was again, that tone that left no room for argument.

You didn’t want to bring this into your personal life, you wanted to shelter him from the crap your work often brought about, but how could you when he was right there, offering to help you through it?

“This is hardly the kind of work the leader of the Heroics should be bothering with,” you tried to laugh it off, gesturing to the reports and receipts that were littering your table with a wonky smile, but even that faded away as those deep eyes stole your attention as they often did.

It wasn’t sympathy or empathy, wasn’t anger nor irritation, in fact, none of the emotions you expected to see swam in that chocolate gaze. No, it was simply acceptance.

Pulling a chair from the next desk over, he plopped down with none of the finesse your colleagues were used to seeing in the news reports. No, this was a side reserved for you and Missy alone. The side that was clumsy and awkward. The side that had brought you flowers he saw on the side of the road when coming to pick you up for a date, not knowing it was actually a weed. The side that had managed to fall off the couch, not once, but twice during movie night early into your relationship.

This wasn’t Marcus Moreno, leader of the heroics. This was Marcus Moreno, your boyfriend, a term you had grown to increasingly love even with the juvenility of it.

This was your personal hero, the man who turned up at your desk when you had to work late to make sure you ate, took a break, and weren’t overworking yourself.

“Babe, I don’t know what you think I do every day, but I’m more than used to dealing with boring reports,” and somehow his words came far easier than yours, pulling the corners of your lips into something akin to an actual smile.

It was far too easy to smile around him, and he took far too much joy in dragging a smile onto your features as often as possible.

“But, that’s an after dinner problem. As is the fact your boss isn’t the one staying back late to deal with her own issues,” he huffed slightly, before shaking his head as if the action would literally shake the thoughts from his mind. “For now, we eat like- Do you think kings would eat pizza?”

And just like that, being stuck at work for the evening didn’t feel quite so bad. Nothing really could, not when you had that ridiculous man staring at you curiously as he shoved far too much pizza into his mouth at once, pondering a question that would make a toddler proud.

No. This wasn’t bad at all.

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno #we can be heroes #my fic #marcus moreno imagine #we can be heroes imagine #marcus moreno fic #we can be heroes fic

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devildomdoofus · 4 years

Text

Winter Storm

Part 1

Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan

WARNINGS:

‼️contains spoilers from chp. 16‼️

[[ angst, cursing, anxiety, fear/terror, depression, survival, near death experiences, mentions of blood/bleeding, hypothermia, dehydration, fainting, severe pain, cliffhangers ]]

Authors Note (sorry it’s long):

My sincerest apologies for how long you all had to wait!! I’m hoping what I’ve created was worth it. Because each brothers’ pieces were rather extensive especially being on mobile, I’ve decided to divide them into two parts where part one includes the four eldest brothers and part two includes the remaining. This is also to test the waters a bit and see if my writing style is decent enough to continue or if there are changes that need to be made before posting part two. Also, I purposefully wrote “cliffhangers” because I felt that, as reader, you should be able to decide MC’s fate for yourself according to your personal tastes/moods/etc. I hope it doesn’t come off as lazy.. it was intentional so that you may enjoy the content to the fullest and take it in the direction that you choose and not the author.CONSTRUCTIVE FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED!! Good, bad, or indifferent, your feedback will help me write better for you in the future so you can enjoy my content to the upmost extent!! ALSO: If the spacing is weird with the paragraphs and such, I’m very sorry but for the time being, I have no idea how to fix that considering I’m on mobile and there’s only so much the app allows me to do. Anyway, I hope you all dig what I dish out! Thanks again for your patience, support, and understanding!! -DevildomDoofus

UPDATE (2-19-2021): Part 2 is out!! Unfortunately I don’t have enough content to make a master list quite yet but until then, forgive me, but you’ll have to search my blog using the hastag “devildomdoofus” or “my posts.” Don’t worry, I’ll get my blog in order eventually, I’m just a little slow with these kinds of things 😅 thank you for your patience and understanding!!

- DevildomDoofus

Prologue:

One word, a pair of twinkling eyes, and a pouty lip was all it took for you to convince him to vacation with you up in the human world. Maybe a few more ‘fluffy’ words and a bigger pout had to be used on Lucifer, as his paranoia was, more often times than not, justified by his brothers’ antics so... he needed further convincing.

When you two arrive at the cabin that you were to stay in for the week, you eyed the place over and it was rather beautifully decorated and cozy enough to never set foot outside for eternity, but with the wonderland that was just right outside your door, how could you not? By the celestial realm, it was like a dream. The ground was carpeted with fresh sheets or large comforters, rather of glistening white snow that reached just above your ankles, so soft to the touch that it could almost be compared to the cushy feel of Belphegor’s favorite pillow. The mighty mountains reach up to graze their fingers through the few clouds that wisp across the bluest skies... have they always been this blue? The nearby forest that towered over all, beckoned you to join them in their dance with the gentle wind. In other words, you HAD to explore! You set out on a solo trip to get aquatinted with your surroundings and take pictures to reminisce about later, while the one you came with unpacked your belongings to get rightfully settled in. You promised you wouldn’t wander far, just enough to really take in the scenery before venturing further out together. As a precaution, you dug markings on nearby trees as you tread and left stones in consistent, peculiar piles so that in the event of an emergency, any who might have to come looking for you would notice these things and easily be able to follow in your footsteps. Well, more or less, considering the clouds had secretly huddled up above you for another gentle snow shower and are now covering up your footprints. No worries though, right? You left plenty of stone piles and tree markings and you’re not even that far from the cabin. Someone could surely find you if you needed them to. You pushed onward, too entranced by the world around you to turn back now.

As time passed, storm clouds gathered faster than a pack of hungry wolves over a freshly fallen corpse and this became your cue to hurry home. To your dismay, you couldn’t find ANY of the markings you left on the trees or ANY of the stone piles you made. Ok, that’s not great but everything’s fine. The trick is to not panic. Maybe you just wandered a little farther of the beaten path than you realized. You’ll surely find your way back. As you searched high and low for your markings, the wind began to pick up, howling furiously in your ear and the once gently drifting little snowflakes became hardened, frosted hornets, stinging your face until they bit through your exposed skin and caused you to bleed. So much snow and ice, you could barely see 2 feet in front of you and could hardly lift your legs high enough to move forward as the levels of snow quickly rose to just above your knee. You had packed and dressed for whatever these snowy mountains could throw at you, but nothing could protect you from the fury of a raging blizzard for long. Pain from the dropping temperatures began at the tips of your toes and fingers and the longer you tried to find your way back, the more the pain spread and the harder it was to move anything at all. Everything inside of you, every fiber of your being was screaming for you to stop, for the pain was becoming too great but you just HAD to make your way back or you would surely die out here. These thoughts were starting to make you panic. Just as you were thinking it couldn’t get any worse, the wind grew even stronger and was starting to knock you to your knees. At this rate, you were causing more harm than good to yourself, perilously trying to toughen it out. Instead, you decided to find a makeshift shelter, just strong and big enough to keep the snow and wind off of you as you would attempt to warm up.

As if by divine intervention, you could make out a large rock formation with an opening big enough for you to huddle up under, just ahead of you. You ducked low and crawled in, hunkering down in your saving grace. As you shivered in the shadows, heaving and trying to collect yourself before deciding what to do next, you realized that numbness had settled into your limbs and you could no longer feel them, much less move them. You tried, desperately, over and over to inch them in any way but damn it, nothing would. Tears began to puddle at the corners of your eyes as your mind began to race. You should have never left the cabin alone. You knew better, you just couldn’t help yourself. The tears started to fall more and more as the thoughts started spiraling. How could you be so stupid? Now no one is going to find you and you’re going to die here, alone and deathly afraid. You could no longer contain your cries and in one last fleeting attempt to be rescued, you screamed for help with as much force as your withering lungs would allow. Nothing but the wind answered your cries. Before you knew it, your body was shutting down and your eyes fluttered shut right as you fainted against the rocky wall behind you. The panic, the wet and the cold, dehydration, the pain that once gripped your entire body that then turned to numbness, the overexertion, the hypothermia that was setting in; it was all too much for your body to handle anymore. Limp against the stone, you were quickly turning into a human icicle. This is how he finds you.

Lucifer:

Lucifer had been prepping for dinner for later that evening, as some meals tend to take an eternity to prepare, when the hair on the back of his neck pricked up and an uneasy feeling settled into his stomach. He could sense something was wrong even before the storm clouds rolled in. There was no way to explain it other than something is or was going to be terribly, terribly wrong. It’s the same feeling he gets when his brothers are up to no good or are in some form of trouble. It comes with the responsibility of being the eldest brother. He, indeed, trusted you enough for you to go alone for the simple fact that you were the most responsible out of his brothers, but that did not mean he didn’t still feel a bit uncomfortable with you out of his immediate supervision considering you’re human and humans tend to make many, many mistakes. You’re a child by no means and can handle yourself incredibly well, as evident by your time in the devildom and at R.A.D. He knows this and believes you could conquer the world if you so chose to do so. But even YOU know that he only acts and does these certain things that can come off as overbearing to some because he cares so deeply for you that he tries his damndest to prevent any harm that may come to you. Physcial or emotional, accidental or self-inflicted, whatever the case may be. He would give his life and soul up for you, just as he had done for Lilith. That is why this unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach upset him so. He had to find you. He set out to look for you and quickly noticed a pattern. The markings and piles of stones, he assumed, were yours and, for a fleeting moment, it filled him with pride to know that you went about your adventure with a proper head upon your shoulders. Still, he had to see you and be able to hold you in his arms so that his worrisome mind could be put to rest. He followed the trail until it ended with you nowhere in sight. “MC, darling, what have you gotten yourself into this time?” Though calm in his demeaner, he was still fidgeting beneath the surface. Through the wind and hail that was picking up, he heard your cries from miles off and like a bat out of devildom, races to you. From pounding out of his chest to dropping through the crust of the Earth, Lucifer’s heart collapsed when he found you. “MC...” He rushed to your side in the blink of an eye and shouted your name over and over, but you didn’t respond. He rips a glove off and places two fingers to the side of your neck. Your pulse was so low, he had to press his ear to your chest, but even your heart was far too faint to be heard by human ear. Thank Diavolo he was a demon or he would have assumed the worst. You rarely see this man lose his composure, even behind closed doors. But now, when he looks at you and your state of comatose for the second time in his life, he becomes frantic. So many emotions racing through him, he doesn’t notice the tears welling in his eyes or his demon form breaking the surface. His fist clenches and he slams it into the ground next you, creating a cavity in the stone. He almost lost you once, he won’t let it happen again.

Before his emotions get the better of him, he swiftly yet ever so gently scoops you into his arms and immediately transports you both back to the cabin where he could try and warm you up and bring you back to your old self. Back to him. Bursting through the door, he rushes to place you gingerly onto the couch in front of the fireplace and carefully strips you of all the wet clothing, replacing them with warm, dry pairs. He wraps your neck with a thick scarf, slips fuzzy mittens on your hands, covers your head in a knitted hat, and drapes multiple blankets over your body. He then tosses wood into the fireplace, setting them ablaze before circling the couch and pushing it, and inherently you, closer to the warmth of the fire. All of this within the blink of an eye. He finally sits next to you on the cushions and takes you back into his arms, fearing that if he ever lets go, he will truly lose you once and for all. He’ll occasionally reach a hand up to the side of your neck or to your wrist, checking your pulse. Still too damn low. How in the devildom could he let this happen? For hours, he stays like this with you, keeping you so close to his chest that from the outside looking in, it would seem he was smothering you. The entire time he cradles you, he is mentally abusing himself for not being with you. For letting you go out alone. For not protecting you. For going against his better judgement and agreeing to come out here with you in the first place- no... that’s not it.. He’s frustrated with himself for you going against your better judgement and choosing him to be the one to come with you. Him of all people. He couldn’t protect Lilith in the Great War, he couldn’t protect you when Belphegor tried to kill you, and now here you are, lifeless in his embrace and fighting to stay alive once again because he couldn’t protect you from the storm. The tears began to fall from his eyes once more and they dropped onto your cheek. He looks down at you, cupping your face in his hand and tenderly wipes his tears from your skin. “Please,” he begs through the lips that threaten to quiver. “Please MC. Come back to me, darling.” He shuts his eyes and presses his forehead to yours over the knitted hat. Hoping, if only he could pray, for you to come back.

Mammon:

Before the storm even rolled in, Mammon went looking for you. It was unnatural for you two to be separated for this long and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. “Damn it, MC! We’re supposed to be doing this stupid vacation thing together,” he grumbles, as he stomps out of the house in a little Mammon tantrum. He saw your markings on the trees and piles of stones and began to think you set up the whole ‘going on a solo adventure’ thing as a prank. He chuckles to himself and beams a bit in pride. “My clever little human, turning into me.” A seemingly great idea at first, but the more he thought on it, SERIOUSLY thought on it, the more that two Mammons seemed like a bad idea. But he’d like to go over the so called ‘bad idea’ with you if he could just find you. He followed your markings until they stopped and that’s when the storm clouds rolled in. He was starting to get nervous. Yes, you hid and jumped out at him in an attempt to scare him on numerous occasions (which hardly worked, considering he was a demon and quite frankly, a powerful demon at that) back in the devildom but... this situation seemed different. Having been around you and your person the longest, he gained a sixth sense specifically for you. Your warm presence, your delectable soul essence, your precious voice, your thoughts and feelings, your wonderful heartbeat; he could feel them all, even when you returned to the human world for a bit. He could feel them all until now and it felt like he had gone numb. His nervousness turned to anxiousness. The only other time this numbing sensation has happened to him before is when Belphegor tried to off you right in front of him. He so very often wishes he could just wipe those memories from his mind forever...

For a moment, he thinks he can hear your voice, as faint as it is. “MC!!” He follows the direction he thinks your voice is coming from and calls your name again but with no reply. Then he hears it. One ever so minute thump of your heartbeat. He follows the sound like a wolf after a lamb until he comes across the little miniature cave his lamb had taken shelter under. He crawls in and he‘s instantly frozen in place. “MC?” You’re.. ? No you couldn’t be, you just couldn’t be. “C’mon MC, qu-quit foolin’ around. We have to go home. It’s s-storming like crazy out there, ya know?” Only the little echo of the cracks in his voice are his reply. He takes one of your hands in his and- shit! They’re so cold! Colder than when held you that time you were almost kill-NO! He lets go of your hand and grabs you by the shoulders instead, shaking you frantically. “MC, please, ya gotta wake up! This isn’t funny anymore!” The longer he shook you with no sign of you waking up, the more his eyes glazed over with tears. “MC!! WAKE UP!!” He growls, frustration and demon form taking over. Your body slides like a rag doll into his arms and that’s when he finally realizes that this is no prank and you’re in serious, serious danger. His heart disintegrates in his chest and nothing could stop the tears from cascading down his face like rain. For just a few moments, he sits there in that cave, holding your frozen body in his arms and rocking you as he cries heavily into your hair. He’s so hurt, so fucking hurt that this is the second time that he couldn’t protect you when he said he would. But by Diavolo, he had to keep trying until the absolute very last millisecond.

He gets a grip on himself, cradles you tightly into his embrace and skyrockets back to the cabin. Once there, he’s doing anything and everything in his power to get you warm. Heated blankets, warm and dry clothes, thick gloves, fuzzy hats, warmed pillows and cushions, a fire in the fireplace, the thermostat cranked up by 5 degrees, EVERYTHING. He even went to the extent of placing his bare hands into the fire, pulling them out to cool them down to an appropriate temperature, and then placing them over your ears, under the hat and across your forehead, or he would cradle your face in his hands to gingerly brush his warmed thumbs over your cheeks and nose. He simply could not sit still. There had to be something more he could do to help you, something more he could do to make up for his mistakes. He couldn’t stop no matter what. He loved you too much to give up so easily.

Leviathan:

Leviathan had originally intended to get both of your belongings unpacked as quickly as possible so that later that evening, you two could have a video game binge with the new game the TSL franchise came out with, honestly he did, but... as soon as he turned on the tv to test the reception in the area, one of the human shows you often mentioned to him popped up on the screen and he was instantly glued to the couch. The characters were as entertaining as you had described them in that cute way where your eyes sparkled and lips curled into a smile. He loved the way you beamed with joy He loved y- He couldn’t pry his eyes away from the screen, not even for a second. That is, until 20 minutes later and the show turned to static. “Oh for crying out loud,” he grumbles as he clicks the tv off and tosses the remote to the side. It was just like this normie of a human world to have terrible reception, especially during an intense episode. Surely he had it recorded somewhere back in his room in the Devildom. With newfound boredom, he stepped to the window and looked outside. Sheesh, it had gotten dark rather quick. It would be an awful shame for someone to be stuck out in this impending weather, just as the food in TSL had been stuck in terrible weather that The Lord of Fools sent The Lord of Flies. Such a kind gesture from the Lord of Fools, considering his former lover, Geldie, was found frozen in- “OH SHIT! MC!!”

He kicked open the door and stumbled around in the snow and gusting winds before getting his snow legs, then frantically circled the cabin, looking for any sign of you. He finds the markings in the trees and little stone piles and figured that they must belong to you. As he tread, he couldn’t help but beat himself up for letting you go alone, especially considering neither of you knew the area well enough. He understood, more than anyone in all the realms, that time alone is sacred and shouldn’t be interrupted without a legitimate reason. But even still, he wished that you would have teased him to go with you, like you often times did, until he would inevitably cave and follow behind you as he would then talk about the situation being “like that one scene from that one anime we watched together where the male protagonist somehow turns into a puppy, lost and confused, until the female protagonist comes along and takes him in and loves him for who he is and he turns back into a human and follows her around like he did when he was a puppy and-...” The rest of the walk would be filled with talks of which anime or show or video game resembled each moment you two shared.. and you loved every second of it. His eyes lit up like the sun shone right behind them and his precious little grin when he would recall humorous scenes. He would blush when he caught you staring and stumble over the next few sentences before eventually shutting up and just holding your hand (for safety of course) as you giggled at him for being so damn cute. His memories of those times kept him warm as they could as he continued onward in search of you, hoping that you weren’t in too much danger. But with how little mercy the storm was showing him, the possibility of you being safe and sound was rapidly decreasing.

Your marked trail came to an end but you weren’t there. Instead, there was only the howling winds and cascading ice to mock him. Oh no, this is bad. This is very, very bad. He shouted your name in an attempt for you to hear his voice and be able to find your way to him but he received no answer. He shouted louder and louder but you simply wouldn’t answer. “Shit, MC, where the hell are you?!” Anxiety began to make its way through him and he had to lean against a nearby tree to try and collect himself. That’s when he could faintly hear your voice crying for help. He darted towards your direction, coming upon the shelter you hid away in and as he moved closer to you, he froze. You were deathly still and your skin was so incredibly pale compared to it’s usual hue. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he was just frozen in place with nothing but your limp body and emotionless face in front of him. He had no clue what to do but try and wake you up as he swallows the lump in his throat to call your name. “M-MC?” No answer. He takes your hand in his. Shit, you’re colder than ice. “MC, pl-please... please wake up, MC.” The wind outside seem to laugh at him and his feeble attempt to wake you up. Tears welled in his eyes and the lump in his throat thickened, almost to a point where he felt he couldn’t breathe, much less cry. As his demon form creeps to the surface, he grabs your shoulders and gently shakes you. “MC, please!! I can’t do this without you!!” Your body droops into his embrace and his heart feels like it’s been dropped into a blender and turned to mush. For a moment, all he can do is stare at your solidified face and wonder why oh why was this happening to him. To his precious ‘Henry’... “That’s it!! Henry!!” He shouted to himself. What would Henry do for his loved ones? He wouldn’t sit here and feel sorry for himself, he would do everything in his power to help the ones he cared about most! Leviathan shakes away his tears, holds you tightly in his arms, and bolts to the cabin to attempt to save you. He wasn’t going to let himself get in his own way, he was going to try his damndest to save you and bring you back. To bring back his Henry.

Satan:

In the midst of folding and putting away yours and his clothes, Satan paused. Similar as much as he hated to be so to Lucifer, he had developed a sort of instinct to tell when something or anything was off and this sense was only heightened by his incredibly refined observation and detective skills. He couldn’t quite place his finger on it just yet but something was clearly off. That’s when he went looking for you. Knicks in the trees and your piles of stones made him feel a bit more at ease about going after you, as he felt you were at least intelligent about your endeavors and not as callow as most of his brothers seemed to be. That is, until the trail of markings came to a stopping point. It was difficult to admit, but this situation was throwing him for a loop. You wouldn’t have just randomly stopped placing markers for yourself unless something bad had happened and even then, you would have called for him using the pact if you were in danger, right? There had to be an explanation for all of this. He leaned against a nearby tree, neck deep in furrowed brow concentration until the sky darkened with thick, furious looking clouds stampeding in, breaking his many trains of thought. With a new indication of urgency, he continued onward in search of you. As the storm picked up, so did that ominous feeling and inherently his blood pressure. If this was your idea of a joke, it was highly inappropriate and if he’s blatantly honest, irritating, to say the least. Very. irritating. Although he was a demon and basically immortal, that didn’t negate the fact that he felt his time was precious and any amount of time with you was that much more precious. He had not come up to the human world, with the presumption that you two could finally spend some time alone together, just for the whole trip to be some pathetic excuse of a prank. You could do so much better; that he was certain of and for you to do something as lowly as this was an insult to his intelligence, his affection towards you, and an insult to him in general. He wouldn’t let his wrath, his sin, get the better of him nor would he ever use either against you but when he finds you, you will know very soon of his immense displeasure.

“Ugh...” He could hear how much he sounded like Lucifer as he is in punishment mode and it made him want to vomit.

Before the wind could really drown out any other sound, he thinks he hears your voice crying out through the storm. All of the anger that was building up instantly vanished and he hurries after you. Years and years (we’re talking thousands) of constant meditation, reading self-improvement novels, and studying a multitude of ways to strengthen one’s emotional fortitude, absolutely NOTHING could have prepared him for the way he felt when he found you. Frozen, limp, and lifeless against the stone; He didn’t have to touch you or call your name to know you weren’t going to answer. All of this was because he simply didn’t accompany you on your scouting trip.

It was too much. His wrath instantly took hold and his demon form bubbled to the surface. He wasn’t angry with you in the least, no. He was absolutely furious with himself because he didn’t protect you and he wasn’t there for you when you needed him most and he had no one else to be angry with but himself. Overcome with and blinded by the pure, white hot rage, he screams his broken heart out of his chest and into the sky above, and the earth trembled around you. The steadfast shelter that once braced against the harsh storm crumbled into trillions of pieces as the sheer force of his voice crushed them to bits. The trees no longer bent to the will of the blizzard, but to him and him alone. His anger practically created ‘an eye in the middle of the storm’ and all but Satan had stilled within it. As the last bits of his wrath dispelled and he could finally get a better grip of himself, he looked down at you before taking you in his arms as the storm closed back in around you. Using the last of his energy, he bolted to the cabin with you clutched to his chest and settled you onto the couch to start the warming process. More than anything, he wanted to reach inside of you, grab the coldness by its throat, rip it out of you, and proceed to pummel it into a fist-dug grave. He wanted to take your pain, your fear, your sadness and tears, everything that caused you harm and reign devildom upon them all. To make your suffering know the name of wrath, to know his name personally and properly. Yet all he could do is kneel at your side and wait patiently for your possible recovery.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #otome #obey me scenarios #mine #my posts #devildomdoofus #obey me lucifer #lucifer #obey me mammon #mammon #obey me leviathan #leviathan #obey me satan #satan #obey me mc #mc

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

Hi Steph!! I was wondering if you knew of any really long fics (like 25k or more) that are only one chapter, I travel a lot sometimes and some places don't really have good enough internet for multi chapter fics. So yeah, any really long one chapter fics about John and Sherlock would be appreciated. Thank you!

Hey Nonny!!

LOL OKAY FUNNY STORY. I almost replied to this with “oof I’ll have to read EVERYTHING so I’m sorry.... and then... I remembered.......

I put chapter counts on everything 🙃😐

I’m not the brightest crayon in the box. 🖍

Anyway, so yes, I can definitely rec you some fics! BUT I should also offer you two suggestions you can totally do to read ANY fic!

On Ao3, you can click on the “Entire Work” button to load ALL chapters of a fic (it’s the very first button along the top) and in turn you can then just read it all there!

And the very last button along the top, you can Download copies of the fic to your phone or computer with eBook file types (AZw3 for Kindle, ePub for iPhone’s Books app, and MOBI is for other mobile devices and e-readers), the HTML if you want to read it as-is in a web-browser, or the PDF format which is a universal file format that is supported by everything, even web browsers, so it’s a good one to download if you don’t know what format you need :) If you read on an eReader, though, I can’t recommend enough just downloading the format for your device. You get to keep a copy of the fic AND the eReader keeps it nicely formatted. It’s a BRILLIANT, BEAUTIFUL feature that Ao3 gave us, because I like downloading all my fics and read them later in iBooks. Once you start that, Nonny, you can’t do it any other way. AND at the VERY END of the fics, it links BACK to the original post so you can bookmark, kudos, and comment on it!! <3

So yeah, two options you can do to solve your poopy internet and still read long fics hee hee! <3

ANYWAY EXCUSE FOR A NEW LIST LOL.

ALSO, side note, check out @silentauroriamthereal; a large chunk of her fics are both long AND one chapter, so it’s a good place to go and she’s a brilliant author so I don’t think you’ll be disappointed! <3 Plus a lot of her fics are on this list, so I am sorry hahah.

AND I wanted to make the list a bit longer than I had, so I picked fics over 20K, if that’s alright :) As always, if you wrote a 20k+ single chapter fic, let us know!

SINGLE CHAPTER FICS OVER 20K WORDS

A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w., 1 Ch. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John, Past Abuse, Insecure John, Reassuring / Caring Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Understanding Sherlock) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.

The White Lotuses by SilentAuror (E, 20,340 w., 1 Ch. || Slow Burn, Domestic, Romance) – One day John realises that he just isn't where he belongs, which is back at Baker Street with Sherlock. So he goes back and Sherlock, in his own way, courts him. Romance.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

You're On the Air by prettysailorsoldier (M, 20,616 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock, Matchmaking, Radio, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Flirting, Bisexual John) – The Consulting Detective and The Woman dominate the airwaves of their university radio station, doling out advice on everything from meeting the parents to sexual positions. When their ratings start to dip before the holidays, however, manager Mike thinks it's time for some fresh blood, and who better to fill in the gaps than rugby captain--and notorious flirt--John Watson? Part 1 of 25 Days of Johnlock

whiskies neat by Ellipsical (E, 20,660 w., 15 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, POV Second Person Sherlock, Slow Burn, One Night Stand, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Anal, Soldier John, Crying, Emotional Lovemaking, Switchlock) – Home and hearth and whiskies neat, or, alternatively, Sherlock Holmes falls in love.

Achieving the Together-Coloured Instant by teahigh (E, 20,776 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel, PTSD, Codependency, Fluff & Angst, H/C, Smut, Demisexual Sherlock, Experiments) – John wonders if this is how it’s going to be: A life speaking in code, because they’re both too stupid to figure out how to say, “I love you.”

Winter's Delights by Kate_Lear (E, 21,173 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Christmas, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Bed Sharing, Domestics) – Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family. Part 1 of Winter's Delights

Love Is by SilentAuror (E, 21,508 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, UST / URT, Post HLV, Romance) – At Mrs Hudson’s urging, Sherlock finally decides to tell John how he feels about him. Part 1 of Love Is

echoes through time by chellefic (E, 21,619 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Romance, ACD & BBC, Epistolary) – Mummy sends a trunk from the Holmes cottage in Sussex to 221B. Its contents alter the way John and Sherlock see themselves and one another.

Ghost Stories by SwissMiss (M, 22,256 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Holmes Family, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, First Time) – Sherlock's parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

Sonatina in G Minor by SilentAuror (E, 22,574 w., 1 Ch. || Case Fic, POV Sherlock, Angst, UST, Sherlock’s Violin, Post-S3, Romance) – John has come back to Baker Street, but Sherlock doesn't understand the strange tension between them, even after he begins teaching John to play the violin at John's request.

The Kepler Problem by kinklock (E, 24,270 w., 1 Ch. || Sci-Fi AU, Alien Sherlock, Space Repairman John, Alien Biology, Horny John) – Working in uncharted space exploration was not as exciting as John had hoped, especially when it turned out to be mostly bot maintenance on uninhabited planets. However, the mystery of the repeated, unexplained malfunctions on planet BAK 2212 might turn out to be exactly the kind of adventure he'd been craving.

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop, Past Abuse) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn't simple.

The Wisteria Tree by SilentAuror (E, 29,773 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Emotional Love Making, Amnesia/Memory Loss, Sherlock Loves John So Much, Sherlock POV, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Est. Rel., Retirement) – Sherlock wakes up from a month-long coma only to discover that he has no memory of the previous six years to his own shock as well as John's...

Shallow Grave by SilentAuror (E, 31,672 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Angst, HLV Fix It, Infidelity, Pining Sherlock, First Person POV Sherlock) – Starts as Sherlock's plane is taking off at the end of His Last Vow. When he finds out that Moriarty is alive and that he's being recalled from his mission, Sherlock decides that he should have told John how he felt before he left. So he walks off the plane and kisses him.

The Midas Touch by flawedamythyst (E, 32,231 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Magical Realism || John has a Magical Cock, Dub Con, Healer John) – John Watson has a medical condition that means everyone he sleeps with is instantly healed of all illness and injury. This causes complications when Sherlock breaks his arm, and even more complications when Sherlock falls in love with him. Yes, this is a story where John has a literal magic healing cock. It's a lot less cracky than you're probably imagining. Warning: Contains complex issues of sexual consent, although not between Sherlock and John.

The Whore of Babylon Was a Perfectly Nice Girl by out_there (E, 32,897 w., 1 Ch. || Past Drug Use, Blowjobs, Toplock, Mentions of Switching, Rough Sex, Background Cases, Sherlock’s Past, Sherlock’s Sexual History, Experienced Sherlock, Past One Night Stands, Fingering, Cuddling, Possessive Sherlock, Paris Holiday, Bed Sharing, Naked Lie-Ins, Bathing Together, Confessions, Worried Sherlock, Laying in Bed All Day, Meddling Mycroft, Naked Lazy Day) – Sherlock walks into a room and takes all the space right out of it. He does the same inside John's head.

Our Enthusiasms Which Cannot Always Be Explained by withoutawish (M, 32,961 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas, Fluff and Angst, H/C, Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mild Gore, Sherlock Whump) – The list that is tacked haphazardly on the refrigerator of 221B reads, ‘Kidney(s), and/or a full cadaver (preferably male, late 30s, under six feet tall), bag of fresh toes, sixteen cow’s eyes (corneas retained), dual exhaust hand –held flame thrower, an unopened first edition copy of Joseph Conrad’s 'Heart of Darkness', and no less than ten abhorrently gruesome murders in the upcoming month.” The one neatly hanging next to it simply reads, “Sex.” One of these lists is not John Watson’s. If John Watson were to put what he really wanted in list form, to live in a land somewhere beyond ‘almosts' now that Sherlock Holmes has indeed returned to him, he would never be able to look his flatmate in the eye ever again.

Bedtime Stories by Liketheriver (M, 34,388 w., 1 Ch. || Emotional H/C, Romance, Angst & Humour, Bed Sharing, John First Person, TRF, John Whump) – John's POV during Season 2 and beyond when Sherlock takes up semi-permanent residence in his bed. A collection of codas and missing scenes wrapped up into one long fic and topped with a bow that takes the story beyond Reichenbach and into happy territory once more. Part 1 of Bedtime Universe

The Yellow Poppies by SilentAuror (E, 34,952 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Nightmares, HLV Fix-It, PTSD, Trauma, POV Sherlock, Doctor John) – Sherlock is threatened and assaulted in the hospital immediately after having been shot in the heart, first by Mary, then by Magnussen. As he recovers at Baker Street with John and plans the attack on Appledore with Mycroft, he fights to work through the trauma caused by these two visits. Set during His Last Vow.

The Unfinished Letters by SilentAuror (E, 37,391 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3 / S3 / HLV Fix it, Angst with Happy Ending, Romance, Infidelity, Depression, Case Fic, POV Third Person Sherlock, Love Confessions, Pining Sherlock, Letters) – A fire at Baker Street leads John to read something he was never intended to see: a notebook of half-written, unfinished letters Sherlock wrote during his time away...

Set in Stone by SilentAuror (E, 39,309 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Wedding, Therapy, Fluff and Angst) – Sherlock and John are back from Ravine Valley and planning their wedding. However, as they move past the trial of the human traffickers, Sherlock can't help but wonder if he's imagining that John is becoming a little distant. Surely he isn't getting cold feet about the wedding... Part 2 of The Ravine Valley series

Act IV by SilentAuror (E, 39,707 w., 1 Ch. || First Person POV Sherlock, HLV Fix-It, Infidelity, Angst, Drama) – After Sherlock is shot, John moves back into Baker Street. They spend the autumn together as John tries to make sense of his life and make some important decisions about both Mary and Sherlock. Canon-compliant, excerpts from His Last Vow.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #long fics #single chapter fics #Anonymous

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irisofpurple · 3 years

Note

Heyyyyy! Here are the newlywed questions for your lovebirds!

Notes: Answer the following with pictures (dialogue from your characters is optional!). Collages are highly encouraged if you want to answer a question with multiple pictures because tumblr mobile only allows 10 total pics (there are 10 questions). Otherwise, tumblr on a desktop lets you add multiple pictures!

Also, don’t worry about picking pictures of your face claim (if any) to answer these! Any picture of the outfit/place, no matter who is wearing it, makes absolute sense! Have fun!

For MC

Favorite picture of Ethan at your wedding?

Favorite picture on your honeymoon (of him or otherwise)?

Favorite outfit(s) on him?

What does your home look like?

Picture of your spouse's last purchase.

For Ethan

Favorite picture of your wife at your wedding?

Favorite picture on your honeymoon (of her or otherwise)?

Favorite outfit(s) on him/her?

Picture of a dream getaway or date you would surprise her with?

Last picture she sent you.

Alright, here it is. Sorry for taking so long but it’s finally done! Thank you for sending in these questions Bree. You’re the best. ❤

Newlywed questions (Ethan Ramsey × Lana Stevens)

For Lana

• Favorite picture of Ethan at your wedding?

Ethan - Honey I'm barely visible. You're covering me almost entirely.

Lana - *smirks* Exactly.

Ethan - *shakes his head* You're incorrigible!

Lana - *rolls her eyes* Fine. This one that Bryce sent me right before the wedding.

Lana - Happy now?

Ethan - I was just teasing you. I actually liked the first picture more.

Lana - Why? Like you pointed out, you aren't very visible.

Ethan - *smiles at her affectionately* Because, you're in my arms.

• Favorite picture on your honeymoon (of him or otherwise)?

Ethan - Obviously.

Lana - *smirks again* Obviously. I do have another one though.

Ethan - This one's my favorite too.

Lana - *pecks him on the lips* I know but I'm not done yet.

Ethan - She said only one picture. You've already surpassed that requirement.

Lana - You know I don't play by the rules.

Lana - Captain Ramsey Vs Doctor Ramsey! Who is hotter?

Ethan - *faux frowns* Stop it.

Lana - *laughs* Never!

• Favorite outfit(s) on him?

Lana - It's unfair how he looks good in everything! *throws up her hands*

Ethan - You're one to talk!

Lana - *leans closer to host and whispers* That last one is my absolute favorite though.

Ethan - I heard you, darling.

• What does your home look like?

Lana - As you can see, it has a lot of glass walls, which.. serves our purpose quite well. *winks*

Ethan - *blushes* She means we like that it allows a lot of natural light inside the house.

Lana - *shakes her head* That's not what I meant.

• Picture of your spouse's last purchase?

Lana - He got me a car for my birthday! Talk about extravagance! I would've been overjoyed even if he got me just my favorite perfume.

Ethan - You needed a car and I did get you your favorite perfume! *presents proof*

Lana - We work in the same place and go everywhere together.

Ethan - *raises a brow* Oh? Why do you have a stupid smile on your face then, right now and in the picture?

Lana - *smiles even harder* I don't know what you're talking about.

For Ethan

• Favorite picture of your wife at your wedding?

Ethan - I wasn’t allowed to see her before the wedding and I was going insane without her. Thank God Sienna sent me these. That first one is still my favorite. Her smile instantly brightened my mood.

Lana - Why is my face blurred in the second one?

Ethan - I asked the same question! Something about it being a bad omen to see your bride in the wedding dress before the actual wedding.

Lana - *giggles* That does sound like something Sienna would say!

• Favorite picture on your honeymoon (of her or otherwise)?

Lana - *frowns and speaks in her deepest voice* Bree said only one pic! You’ve far surpassed that limit!

Ethan - *rolls his eyes* I don’t sound like that at all.

• Favorite outfit(s) on her?

Ethan - I just picked the first few pictures I could find. I love every picture of her, no matter what she’s wearing.

Lana - *smirks* Or not.

Ethan - *coughs* Let’s try and keep it PG dear. Kids could be watching.

• Picture of dream getaway or date you would surprise her with?

Lana - I don’t think anything will ever beat the weekend you proposed to me.

Ethan - I might be working on something more special but I am not willing to reveal my plans and ruin the surprise.

Lana - He took me to an unexpectedly romantic forest getaway on his bike and then proposed to me on our weekend stay together. It was magical and still feels like a dream. *smiles fondly*

Ethan - Then it still counts as a dream getaway.

Lana - I guess it does. But now you’ll have to take me again. I miss the leather jacket biker Ethan! *kisses him*

• Last picture she sent you.

Lana - Let’s just say it ended with him promising to buy me the exact same set again.

Ethan - *groans* So much for keeping it PG.

P.S.- I realize I ended up revealing a lot of my future fic ideas in this. My babies still have a long way to go before they get hitched and a lot is yet to happen before that. It is all there in my head still.

Again, thank you so much for this lovely ask Bree. I had so much fun doing this! ❤❤

Also, I did not proofread so please omit any mistakes there might be. I was feeling too lazy after the long day I had today, even for this jhjsakkssjk.

#newlyweds game #ethan ramsey #lana stevens #ethan x mc #open heart #this was fun

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garbagevanfleet · 4 years

Text

Sun King (smut)

Pairing: Josh & female!Reader Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Alcohol is mentioned, unprotected sex, unprotected sun exposure *gasp* Word Count: 6654 Summary: Josh has been your best friend since middle school. Maybe a vacation to paradise could change that. Notes: @lantern-inthenight and @myownparadise96 both helped immensely with the ideas in this fic, so this one is dedicated to my resident Josh girls, Shelby and Kaja. <3

Thank you to the amazing Mimi ( @satingrass-maidensfair ) for betaing for me! You’re a peach.

Enjoy my first ever Josh fic, extra hot and wet

MASTERPOST

You had spent the entire day at the beach for four days in a row. It wasn’t often that you got to go on a vacation, so when you did, you really liked to forget the monotony of your everyday life. There really wasn’t any extra room in your head to think about your summer job or college applications with the ocean waves lapping at your feet.

Your parents had been promising you this trip the entire year so as long as your grades stayed up before graduation, and it had been a struggle, but you had succeeded - the real hardest part was waiting from the end of school until the actual trip came, which didn’t roll around until December.

Josh had been your friend since middle school, and an unlikely friend at that - or at least at first. See you’ve always had a really feminine lunar energy, a darker, deeper aura, but him?

Josh was the sun personified.

He had the most sunflower-petal-yellow personality you could imagine; his whole persona was a rainbow tie-dyed bed sheet drying on a clothesline.

But opposites attract, or they must anyway, because one fateful day in sixth grade, he had knocked directly into you. The force of it had thrown your tray down to the lunchroom floor, smearing mashed potatoes all over your new school shoes. You had opened your mouth to snap at him, but. Well, how could you? There was never any option but to forgive him when he flashed that big, blinding smile. Especially when he was looking at you like an apologetic puppy.

He had latched onto you after that.

Josh had attended every single birthday party since then and escorted you - as a friend, you assured your parents - to a couple of spring formals. He had been by your side when you tried summer camp and hated it, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been to a movie theater without him.

Your parents had been understandably suspicious at first, but after years of seeing his face at least three-quarters of every month, they had been given no reason to suspect there was anything romantic between you two.

So, that’s how he had ended up here in paradise with you. It was just a given that if you were going on vacation, so was Josh. Your parents hadn’t even asked; they’d just naturally bought an extra ticket for him.

He looked undeniably more well placed here in the tropical climate than you did, and you tried not to be envious about it.

You had spent a bit of time exploring the foreign shops and busy streets, but more than anything, you laid with him in the sand, staring out over the water and trying to get as much of the sun as you could, considering you wouldn’t be seeing it for at least another four months after you got back to the Midwest.

Luckily for you, your parents had not hovered at all. They had given you nothing but free time while they spent almost the entirety of the vacation at the hotel pool up to that point. Their distracted state had allowed you plenty of opportunities to find light beers and sneakily drink them with him. You had never really liked the taste of beer, but it was more for the novelty than anything else.

“Hey,” Josh said, gently pressing his fingertips into your side to get your attention.

You turned your head toward him and tipped your sunglasses down. They were the ones with the orange lenses that you had been absolutely intent on buying before the trip because they matched your suit. You decidedly did not regret your decision.

You hummed lazily in response. He was laying next to you on a teal blue beach towel under possibly the world’s largest umbrella, one tanned ankle crossed over the other. He returned his hand to where he had it folded behind his head, supporting most of its weight as he dozed in and out of consciousness.

His skin was kissed golden by the sun - almost from the minute you’d gotten off the plane- making him look a bit shiny the second he started sweating.

“What time is it?” he asked, voice a shade too concerned for your liking; although, in your lazy state, almost any level of concern was too much.

You glanced down at your phone which was positioned in between you, playing a very long playlist you had collaborated on for the whole car ride to the airport.

“Almost five.”

“Woah, really?” He looked around the beach, which was completely empty, saved for a couple of other stragglers that were staying well away from you.

You had five days worth of practice under your belt, and that had allowed you to find the perfect little slice of beach - secluded, but well kept. You hadn’t had to talk to another soul for the whole trip that you didn’t actively seek out, which was really what you had always wanted from a vacation.

“We should probably get back. Your parents said we were having dinner around six, right?” He nudged into your side, letting you know that he intended to move you whether you liked it or not, even if you had given him a lazy sounding groan for it.

There was no point fighting him (the boy was persistent if nothing else), so you slowly stretched out and prepared to be mobile again after barely using a muscle for days. He was right anyway - your parents weren’t strict in any sense of the word, but they were notoriously a bit picky about punctuality.

He helped you pack everything into your oversized beach bag and then tugged you up into a standing position. He looked just as stiff as you were as he walked by your side, neither of you concerned with keeping a straight line.

You both instinctively headed toward the shower area, all of your beach-going gear in tow, and when you got there, you each wordlessly headed to your respective shower stalls.

All the other showers you’d used the whole trip had been different, but here there were only two cubicles with just a couple feet in between them. You let your heavy bag drop to the pavement in the middle of the two stalls with a thud, and he did the same, propping the long umbrella up against the brick of the building.

You had wrapped your hair up earlier this morning to prevent it from getting salty in the ocean, but you could feel sand gritting against your scalp as you pulled the scrunchie out, so you picked the bottle of shampoo you’d packed away as you turned the shower on.

It wasn’t particularly warm, but the spray was nice and refreshing on your sun-touched skin.

You had just tipped your head back under the water when the curtain on your stall opened, causing you to jump and cover yourself, despite still being completely covered in your suit.

“Hey, I can’t get the water to work in mine - can I jump in with you?” Josh asked and when you gave him a scolding frown, he offered you a toothy smile back.

“Have you tried turning the knob?” you asked flatly, but you couldn’t help but laugh as he rolled his eyes.

“Wow, I didn’t fucking think of that,” he retorted. “Scoot over.”

There wasn’t a whole lot of room in these little shower stalls - they were definitely only meant for one person at a time, so you couldn’t clear much space for him, but you did your best. Once he was in, he had to stand within inches of you to prevent from spilling back out. You squinted accusingly at him, entirely unconvinced that either of you could get very clean this way.

“This could have been such a nice, relaxing shower,” you complained, popping the cap on the shampoo and squirting some out in your palm.

“It still can be!” he assured with a cheeky grin. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

Just for good measure, he mimicked zipping his mouth shut and tossing the key to the floor. You huffed a laugh at him, working the soap through your hair with your fingertips.

When you tipped your head back and let the water wash your locks clean, you let your eyes slip shut. You could tell that your cheeks were a little sunburnt because the water felt nearly ice-cold as it trickled across them, making you shiver.

Your eyes popped open again to find him watching your face. You huffed a breathy laugh at him.

“Hard to pretend you’re not here when you’re staring at me like that.”

“I’m not staring!” he scoffed, but his face turned charmingly pink despite his defense. “Where else am I supposed to look?”

You didn’t respond but instead decided to shake your head with a smirk. You handed him the shampoo bottle, but when you started to step aside to let him closer to the spout, he crowded closer to you. As he leaned in to wet his curls, your back hit the cold tile wall, making you gasp.

“Jesus, do you want me to just get out?” you complained half-heartedly, pressing a hand against his chest.

It wasn’t until he let out a wet sounding laugh that you realized he was jesting you.

“I’m sorry, am I in your way?” he asked coyly, ignoring your faux-annoyed groans as he leaned over you to steal the majority of the spray.

He was so close then that your nose hit his neck, his chest pressed flush against yours. The atmosphere in the tiny cubicle shifted dramatically for you at that moment, your breath catching in your chest.

“Josh,” you breathed.

You shivered again at the contact and, through your suit, you could feel your nipples perk up as your skin tightened into goosebumps. You could tell the exact second that he realized what he’d done to you because his whole body tensed and he took a step back.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be weird or anything,” he said, just loud enough to be audible over the white noise of the shower. His cheeks were flushed from embarrassment - even more so than before, keeping his eyes plastered firmly to the ceiling. Or, at least he was trying. Every couple of seconds, his gaze flicked down, almost comically across your body.

You couldn’t repress the breathless laugh as you watched him work to not look. Your heart was racing, making you feel jittery. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

Biting your lip anxiously, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks too. His eyes flicked down to yours and he gave you a look like he was trying to tell if you were being genuine - if it was really okay.

You reached up to pat his cheek, meant to be a reassurance, but you couldn’t prevent your fingers from lingering against his warmed skin. Touching him like this was nothing new - you were what one could call “platonically intimate”. You shared beds and clothes, and every now and then he’d ask you to brush out his hair, just because he liked the feeling. But this time - like everything else about this moment - felt different. He leaned into your touch a fraction, nuzzling into your palm like a house cat.

Despite your closeness - metaphorically and physically - in all the years you’d known him, you had never once tried to kiss. You had thought about it once or twice, but only because you had gone through a boy crazy faze at the start of puberty and it made you question whether every platonic male in your life could be your soulmate.

But for a second you stared at his plush lips and thought about what it would be like. If it was anything like you expected, then it would be toothache-sweet, because that’s what he was like. Like cotton candy.

You pursed your lips tightly, suddenly overcome with a feeling that you weren’t used to. It felt dreamy like the color rose quartz. Like butterflies were beating their dusty wings against your stomach lining.

He was giving you a questioning look - brows tipped up at the center of his face in a look of concern. You could only imagine what your face must look like to him. You certainly hadn’t been regulating it.

As he parted his lips to inquire, you brushed your fingertips across them, feeling his breathing go uneven.

“Josh,” you whisper, gingerly placing your other hand on the back of his neck. He was so close that you didn’t have to move much to do so. “Will you kiss me?”

He didn’t react for a second, just stood there blinking like the words hadn’t caught up yet. Then his mouth opened and closed a couple of times as he tried to think of a response.

“Of course,” he finally breathed, and the inflection in his voice - like you’re stupid to even ask - made you blush.

His face was already just a foot away from yours, so when he exhaled, the hot air hit your cheek.

The first brush of his lips against yours was experimental - just the ghost of a touch. You could tell that he wanted to, but couldn’t seem to bring himself to commit to it.

You scratched your nails gently against the back of his neck, urging him on.

He snaked his hand around your waist and pulled you in a fraction closer, hesitantly pressing your lips together, tighter this time. As you kissed him back, you could sense his apprehensions starting to melt away. He was gaining confidence by the second, letting his fingers play against the small of your back.

Giddy with excitement, you let him press you back against the tile again until he was standing slightly over you, your fingers wrapped in his wet curls. The water hitting the back of his head was dripping onto your face, and it reminded you of those movies where the romantic interest kisses the girl passionately in the rain before the credits rolled. You had never been very into lovey-dovey movies, but he had always been a sucker for big romantic gestures, so you ended up watching rom-coms quite often.

You parted your lips for him, and this time he kissed you in complete earnest. The rush of feeling behind it knocked the breath from your lungs.

His hand was carefully sliding up your back until your skin met the tile of the shower, and he was forced to snake it up your rib cage instead. You knew what he was going to do, even though you were sure he didn’t - that his fingers were dancing along your skin at their own accord. So when his thumb brushed over your nipple through the fabric of your suit it didn’t shock you, but the feeling forced a hum from you that he swallowed down instantly.

He rubbed over it lightly, and every touch made your whole body tingle.

“Fuck,” he breathed against your lips, sounding painfully shocked at the way this day was going.

You couldn’t say you blamed him.

The angle was starting to make your neck ache, but you could only move slightly due to the cramped space. As you shifted, you felt his hardened cock slide against your thigh and you sucked in a sharp gasp.

His whole body tensed like he wasn’t sure if he’d crossed a line, but he continued when you tugged on his hair - maybe a little too rough if you were being honest. He didn’t seem to mind at all; as a matter of fact, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he liked it - if the suspiciously hoarse whimper he placed into your mouth was anything to go by.

The fingers of his other hand trailed down your other side, thumb rubbing against your hip bone and tugging you closer until your pelvis was pressed against his. The sensation was too delicious; you couldn’t help but grind against him, eliciting a moan from each of you.

When his lips moved to your neck, his teeth grazed the skin. You could feel him starting to bite in, and as good as it felt, you had to object.

“No, wait,” you breathed. “You can’t leave any marks.”

“Who said I was going to leave a mark?” he asked, sounding a little smug. You huffed a laugh at him, rolling your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were an expert at this.” The sarcasm dripping from your voice made him laugh into your damp skin. You opened your mouth to say something equally quippy, but the words got choked back as his fingers brushed against your core.

Your exhale hitched in your lungs, and when you were able to finally breathe again, it was in the sound of his name.

He added just a fraction more pressure, forcing you to bite your lip. He was about to go for it, you could tell, because he was slowly pushing your suit aside, and you were heavily anticipating his fingers touching your bare skin when-

Your phone rang, almost ear-splittingly loud as the tone echoed off of the tile. It caused you to yelp, and he pulled away instantly, face beet red.

Shakily, you bent down and reached past the curtain, pulling it out of your bag and answering it without looking at the ID.

He flipped the water off just as you said, “Hello?”

You silently prayed that your voice wasn’t as shaky as you thought it sounded.

“Hey, just reminding you that we’re having dinner around six,” your father said from the other end. It was quiet enough in the stall that he could easily be heard by Josh as well from where he was leaning back against the shower wall, breathing heavily and staring at the floor.

You swallowed the lump in your throat first before speaking again. “Yeah, we’re just getting changed. Probably be there in ten to fifteen minutes is all.”

Your dad quickly agreed, sounding none-the-wiser to your sins, and after you hung up, you tucked your phone deep inside the bag, like that would help keep everything a secret.

Josh’s eyes flicked up and met yours, his eyebrows raised. You were biting your lip, rubbing nervously at the back of your neck.

“Well, fuck,” he chanced, making you release a shaky laugh.

“Fuck indeed,” you replied, giving him a small smile. “We should get moving.”

He nodded in agreement, and after a second of staring at you, he stepped out, leaving you to change.

Neither of you said a word on the walk back to the hotel, but it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable - just new. Uncharted territory.

Dinner was the same. The air felt heavy, but you did your best to not let your parents feel it, and you could tell he was doing the same.

He easily answered their questions about the day’s goings-on, easily navigating around the part where he almost slipped a finger into you in the shower.

Try as you might, there was no way you could prevent yourself from thinking about it. You caught yourself staring at his lips while he ate, and thinking about the way he tasted.

The light was catching on his tan cheekbones, making his jawline look razor-sharp, and all you could do was think about biting it. It was a big difference between just yesterday when he’d sneezed on you and then laughed about it.

You think that was what was most alarming - You’d never thought of him sexually in your life, aside from the time a friend of yours decided to date him and then attempted to tell you what he was like in bed. As you stared at him from across the table, your biggest regret was cutting her off before she could say anything actually worth knowing.

He stared at you over the rim of his water glass as your mom talked about the hotel bar margaritas, and for the first time in your life, you wanted to know what he felt like on top of you.

The closer dinner got to being finished, the more heavily your heart started to thud. By the time you were all standing and removing your napkins from your lap, you were sure everyone could hear it’s eclectic rhythm bouncing around in your ribcage.

You had never been more thankful in your life that your parents had insisted your rooms be in separate wings on the hotel - though you didn’t really want to think of the implications of that in and of itself.

Josh let himself into your room, asking your parents to excuse him. When your mother inquired about what you guys were going to get up to for the rest of the night, you shrugged and told her you were thinking about renting a movie and falling asleep to it - insuring her that you were beyond tired from all the fresh air and sun. She happily told you to charge it to the room and told you to text her if you guys needed anything, but after being here for five days, you thought you had it covered.

They hugged you goodnight and then retreated down the hall, and you waited until you were positive they were gone before you opened the door. He had left it cracked for you - no need for you to fumble with a keycard, for which you were grateful.

He was at the other end of the room, facing away from you. He had changed into his favorite pair of grey sweatpants and nothing else, and you took a second to rake your eyes up the muscles of his back.

When you shut the door, you leaned back against it, your heart fluttering. You were so nervous that your fingers felt numb, but it was the best kind of nerves you’d ever experienced in your life. You hadn’t ever felt like this about a guy before.

This certainly would not be your first time - by any means. But. Somehow it was.

When he turned around, he looked at you like he was viewing an art installation. It took a second before he could snap out of it, tugging a soft t-shirt over his head and smoothing it out.

You couldn’t stop yourself from following his hand down his chest with your eyes, a warmth rising on your cheeks away when you looked back up and he was wearing a tiny smirk.

“Do you want to go back down to the beach?” he asked, voice quiet, but audible in the - otherwise silent - room.

You weren’t expecting that, and you could tell by the way he smiles at you that he knew he’d take you by surprise.

“Sure,” you agree, nodding. You were honestly a little afraid for a second that he was going to just pretend like nothing had happened. Your chest was tight with hurt for a brief second until he reached for the blanket off the bed, tugging it off the bed and rolling it into a ball under his arm.

No one else on earth could tell that he was nervous, you thought, but he was infinitely more transparent to you.

Just the fact that he wasn’t talking a mile a minute in the elevator was a tell-tale sign. He kept dragging his teeth over his bottom lip; something that would be just a normal, mindless tick for anyone else.

He let you step out first and then held the door from the lobby open for you, which was nothing new, but the way he placed a hand on your lower back as you brushed past him was. The touch made your skin feel hot, even though it was over the fabric of the dress you’d put on for dinner.

You realized about halfway through the walk that he was leading you back to the same slice of beach you’d been lazing on earlier that day, and for some reason that gave you goosebumps.

It felt complete. Full circle.

Nearing nine pm then, the moon was high, and the only source of light as it threw white light across the waves. The wet sand on the shoreline shimmered with it like liquid metal as the water lapped over it.

There wasn’t a soul around. You two were well away from any kind of civilization, and that notion itself was comforting to you. Still, your fingers were vibrating as he laid the blanket out and sat, toeing his sandals off and dusting his feet of any sand before relaxing back.

You followed suit, smoothing out the skirt of your sundress over your knees as you knelt next to him.

You cleared your throat, looking up at him through your lashes.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he said, without a single hint of reproach. His voice was soft and caring, the way it usually was when he was assuring you of anything, except even deeper in its sincerity this time.

He continued. “If you’re having second thoughts or anything, then just tell me and we’ll move past this, no questions asked.”

You breathed a disbelieving laugh, suddenly feeling too big for your body. You weren’t sure why it took you off guard - he’d only ever been a perfect gentleman to you, and any girl he’d ever known, really.

“I want this,” you stated with a small nod. A smile that read something along the lines of relief spread over his lips, and he let out a held breath.

In the tenderest way you could imagine, he swept a lock of your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear. A light touch, he wrapped his hand around the nape of your neck then, pulling you in just a fraction at a time until you were face to face for the second time that day.

When your lips touched the first time, it was soft and sweet - clearly trying to ease each other back into it. But you were already there.

You pressed into him, slipping your tongue in his mouth, and he met it with his.

As he leaned into him, his fingers danced along your bare shoulder, slipping under the thin strap of your dress and letting it slide down your arm.

It was nearly a hundred degrees hotter there than back in the still-frozen midwest, but you found yourself shivering as you pulled away from him and shrugged out of the other strap, letting the top of your dress fall from your bare chest.

His lips fell open, and you waited a second for him to do or say something - anything, but when he didn’t, you huffed a laugh.

“Are you going to pass out on me?” you teased, cupping one of your breasts in your own hand and giving it a squeeze just to watch him swallow hard.

“Shit,” he breathed, licking his lips. He grinned at you, showing teeth and all as he ducked in and kissed down the side of your neck.

You let his hand replace yours, his rough fingers brushing over the plush skin.

He didn’t linger his kisses in any one place for too long, no doubt being mindful of your warning about love bites before. That is until he pulled away and placed both hands firmly around your waist, helping you off your knees until you were straddling his lap. When he got you into the position he liked, his mouth found its way to your breastbone, pressing a trail of kisses down.

Your face felt fire-hot, so you buried it into the curls on the crown of his head. His hair smelled like the coconut shampoo you told him to start using years ago. The scent had become a bit of a comfort blanket for you - always put you at ease because it meant he was close.

You had never stopped to think of the implications of that until right now.

A gasp escaped you as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, tugging it between his lips. His teeth scraped around it lightly, making you whine, high-pitched and beyond lewd.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, pulling his face closer until you were afraid you were going to suffocate him, but knowing that if you did, he’d probably die happy.

He pulled away a fraction, just to flick his tongue against the other one, making your stomach tighten. You could feel yourself getting wetter, and couldn’t help but squirm against him, begging for some kind of reprieve.

You rocked your hips far enough forward that you caught his hard cock against your core, eliciting a choked moan from him. The tingly pleasure spread down your legs, to your toes and made them curl out of reflex.

His fingers dug into your sides as he pushed your hips back and then pulled them forward again, pressing you down harder into him this time. If you had any sense of reality, you’d know to be embarrassed about how wet you were after five seconds of grinding, but you were absolutely gone by then.

Slower this time, so you could really enjoy the fire, you rocked forward again. His fingers found their way to your thighs, sliding up the hem of your dress until his hands were cupping your ass.

Deciding that there were at least one too many layers between you, you pulled yourself up, untying the string on his pants and letting him wriggle to get them pulled down as far as he could in this position.

It was okay though, you had what you needed.

His head tipped back as his cock slipped against you again, this time only your collective underwear in the way. With his throat exposed like that, you bent to drag your teeth against it, not being as gentle as he had been with you.

“No marks,” he reminded, voice gruff, but his fingers painted a different picture - one even let go of your ass to tangle in your hair, spurring you on as your tongue lapped against his skin.

The collar of his shirt in the way of your path only served to annoy you, so you tugged it over his head with haste and let it fall to the blanket.

As soon as his chest was bare, your fingers were mapping it out, tracing along his collarbones and down his breastbone. Even in the dim glow, you could tell how sun-kissed his shining skin was.

The moon was illuminating his curls like a silvery halo, a sight so pretty that it knocked the breath from your lungs momentarily.

You were both breathing hard, not from exertion, but from sheer excitement, and you watched his chest rise and fall for a second before your fingers raked over his stomach and then across the outline of his cock through his briefs.

His hips tried to buck up into the touch in their constricted state, but even the minuscule movement made you blush. Knowing that you could have this kind of effect on him was absolutely surreal. Before today, you’d never even had the privilege of being able to dream about this moment, because it had never even been an option to you. But as you circled your fingertip over the head of it through the fabric, the possibilities seemed endless. When you looked up at his face, he was watching the movements of your hand with half-lidded eyes, seeming like he felt very similarly.

You leaned in and pressed your lips to his again, his mouth hot and sticky against yours. As you dipped your fingers under the hem of his briefs, you could feel him hold his breath. Your fingers wrapped around his cock, giving it a couple of painfully slow strokes and licking into his mouth as he opened it for you.

Neither of you really needed any more warming up, so you caught his eyes and lifted yourself up enough that he could pull your panties to the side.

When you slid down onto it, you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out. You hadn’t realized how wet you were actually getting until you felt how easily it slipped into you. You didn’t allow him a whole lot of time to collect his thoughts before you were moving again, starting to pick up a rhythm as you worked yourself onto his cock.

Your fingernails were dug into his skin, using his shoulders as leverage, and surely they would leave marks, but you couldn’t force yourself to care. He’d think of an excuse if and when anyone ever asked.

“Fuck,” you breathed, voice an octave higher than it usually was. “Oh my god.”

He nuzzled his nose into your cheek, letting his hot, humid breath hit your skin.

Your thighs started to burn from relying on muscles you never use, but the second he started to feel you falter, his hands cupped under them, happy to share the work.

It wasn’t until he starting thrusting his hips up to meet yours that you really knew what fucking him could be like. The simple movement set your nerves on fire.

“Josh,” you squeaked, wrapping your arms around his neck as your fingers shook.

“I know,” he hummed. “I know, baby.”

The pet name made your stomach flip. You’d never wanted someone’s affection as much as you did in this moment.

He pulled his hands from your thighs and held you firmly around the waist. With your arms around his neck, you were already perfectly set up for his next move. He tipped you back until your shoulders were pressed against the blanket, laying you out with him between your hips.

Your muscles were grateful for the reprieve, but the new angle had him driving into you differently, making your eyes roll back.

It had felt great before, but suddenly you could sense yourself working toward something more - a higher peak. Your body felt hot as you wrapped your legs around his hips, tugging him by the hair into a kiss.

He eagerly kissed you back, biting down on your bottom lip, but not quite hard enough to break the skin.

With him over you like that, hair framing his face, everything felt like a dream. It was dark, but you could see the light of the moon catching on a sheen of sweat on his face, making his features even more intense.

Every single thrust sent you closer and closer to a pleasure you hadn’t been acquainted with yet until it got so intense that you had to squeeze your eyes shut tight and just hang on.

You came first, trying and failing to stifle a cry on your own, so he pressed his mouth against yours, swallowing it down. The feeling engulfed you like a wave, your fingers digging at his bicep.

He held you close to him, but it wasn’t until you were coming down that you realized he was whispering encouragement against the side of your mouth, sounding a little fucked out himself.

When he came, he let out a few choppy, raspy breaths against your face, his fingers wound tightly in the fabric of your dress.

You watched him come back to earth, and you weren’t sure if it was a post-orgasm haze or a real emotional response, but you were convinced in that moment that he was the most beautiful human you’d ever seen. For a brief second, you hated yourself for not appreciating it for all the years you’d known him. You couldn’t make any promises to yourself in your heightened emotional state, but you wanted to tell him.

But what the hell would you say?

He pulled out, helping you sit up. Your whole body felt weak, so you both just sat there for a minute, staring at each other.

The silence was entirely comfortable for you, but you wondered for a second if it wasn’t for him. If you knew him like you thought you did, he was probably reading the silence as a sign of regret and the thought broke your heart in a way you hadn’t expected.

You leaned in and hugged him tight, pressing a kiss against his cheek and feeling him melt into it.

There was no stopping yourself from wondering if he was feeling the way you did. You wanted to ask, but suddenly you were faced with the possibility that he didn’t.

Heart racing as you pulled away, you nervously bit your lip.

“What now?” you chanced, voice so quiet it was almost swallowed up by the sound of the waves.

He gave you a sugar-sweet smile and dragged his knuckle down your jawline. “You tell me.”

After you both redressed and got yourselves looking somewhat presentable, he walked you back up to the room.

A shower sounded nice, but after a moment of consideration, you decided that you’d used all of the energy you were willing to give for the day.

So you changed into a pair of loose shorts and a t-shirt in the bathroom, and when you came back out, he was already snuggled into his bed, smiling at you sleepily.

You huffed a laugh at him, but when you pulled back the blankets to your own bed, his smile fell.

“You don’t wanna come over here?” he asked, sounding like a kicked puppy.

You looked over at him through your lashes. At least a quarter of the nights you’d known him had been spent sleeping within a foot or two of him, but this was different.

“Of course, I do,” you assured with a sheepish smile.

You weren’t sure if you had been expecting to feel differently once you weren’t actively having sex with him, but as you crawled into his bed, you realized that you didn’t.

Nothing felt different, and yet everything had changed.

You laid face to face with him, taking it all in.

Once he figured out that you weren’t going to make any moves, he reached past you and flicked off the light. He gave you one, chaste little kiss before pulling you close.

+++

Your flight home didn’t start boarding until 11 pm, but you’d never been good about sleeping on planes, so you settled in with a book and a can of cola.

The seats were set up in rows of three, so it ended up being you and Josh sitting together with a stranger and your parents in the row ahead.

He was sleepy - you could tell because he kept rubbing at his eyes like he was trying to keep them open.

“Get some sleep,” you instructed with a giggle as he leaned his head against the window.

“Wanna wait at least until we take off.”

The stranger on your other side, however, already had her head leaned back on a neck pillow, big headphones covering her ears.

Through the cracks in the seats, you could see your parents settling in for the night, getting ready to sleep through the nearly eight-hour flight.

Josh was just barely still awake by the time you were sure your parents were asleep, and you were comfortable enough to chance turning to him. You grabbed his chin with your fingers and kissed him slowly, feeling your heartbeat pick up.

You wanted him to know that you hoped this was the new normal - that back home, you wanted to stay this close.

He looked a little stunned when you pulled away, just sitting there blinking at you, but after his tired mind caught up with itself, he grinned at you, showing his teeth.

He pulled your head down to his shoulder and nuzzled his cheek against it, lacing your fingers together and letting them rest on his lap.

Maybe you were going to be able to sleep after all.

Note: thanks again to anyone that leaves any kind of note for me. I fucking love them and they keep me going. <3

#josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka smut #gvf smut #gvf fic #writing

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maximura · 3 years

Note

It’s honestly so nice to know that I’m not alone in feeling disappointed with bts new/for awhile stuff. I remember when they first debuted. Their musical growth through the years has been great, but it’s weirdly validating to read that I’m not the only one who feels like they’ve sold out. Tbh, I also feel like when they came out with dynamite I haven’t been super interested in following their music. I also agree with the anon that said the fandom played a factor in distance. Maybe I’ll get hate for this, but I never considered or even wanted to be an army. In the earlier days, yeah I’d definitely tell someone I was a fan if they asked. For so long though, it feels scary/army are generally cultish/out of line/blind to their own toxicity.

However, I’d say in general it seems that “stanning” and fandoms (even kpop in general perhaps) has become less about music for music sake and more on how many views, how many awards, etc etc. Maybe it’s an oldish view (literally age) because I started kpop as a Big Bang/2NE1/Shinee/Kara/Infinite/block b/etc fan, and many of the people I met and know have felt similar things and more distanced from fandoms too. I really enjoy listening to various kpop groups, but I feel like it’s hard to follow, keep up, and be what’s considered “true fan/Stan”. Also, with the new groups thatve come out like enhyphen, aespa, (idk others) I feel so out of touch!

Any recommendations for new groups and songs to listen to? Also sorry I’m on mobile and idk shit about formatting. I’m also doing this anon because I don’t want direct hate. You’re a braver person than me

I'm not brave. I just don't care what people think.

I understand what you are going through and you are definitely not alone. I find that it's a lot of us older fans who feel like this because we have all that history behind us.

Do I have recommendations? I always have recommendations dude. Most of them are in my KPOP BIASES AS posts. But here is what I 100% recommend right now (if you haven't already listened to them):

1) Lovesong by TXT. I went from being disappointed to being obsessed. I literally play this every single day because it is so cathartic. I want more of this in KPOP. I linked to the original studio version but I love the Band Version, live versions and there's also a fucking amazing Rap Remix version.

2) Drunk Dazed by Enhypen. They are worth your time. If only for this era and this song. I really love their Relay dance to this and their live stages. I have never bought a song so fast. I don't think it had even finished playing and I purchased it already. That chorus is just insane. Mayhaps I adopted Niki. Mayhaps. What about it.....

3) Lazy by Woosung. Proving that being chill doesn't mean being slack with good writing and composition. This song is just so perfect to vibe with. His voice is just magical. It's a crime that this isn't bigger than it is.

4) Advice by Taemin. Not new but I'm biased. I have to bring him into everything ok. His albums are no-skip albums for me. I love the piano on this and the really unusual delivery of his verses. He's so next level, man. He's doing things nobody thinks to do.

6) Anti Romantic by TXT. This is really impressive and beautiful. There should just never be any auto tune /post production treatment on their voices. I like the raw imperfections, it gives their music another edge to it.

7) Driver's Licence by Woojin and Gaho. Not a new song but this is one of the best covers I have ever heard in KPOP. The vocal control and talent and level of skill it took to deliver this performance is beyond my comprehension. It makes a lot of things look amateur in comparison but that's just my personal opinion.

8) Given-Taken by Enhypen. I couldn't decide between this or Fever but I think Given-Taken has a better chorus. I also weirdly prefer it in Japanese. It just flows better. The Japanese MV is also miles better because I think the aesthetic and lighting fits the song really well.

#you've probably heard all these #i'm really slow sometimes lol #i literally just caught up with TXT and Enhypen recently #too many things happening tbh #music recommendation #text

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sylvie-writes · 4 years

Text

Turn It Off

a short hc inspired by something that happened to me this morning. hehe if you can’t tell, I’m a holiday fanatic.

warnings: Christmas music, if you are a grinch.

You woke up this morning, Ransom lazily snoring beside you, his large arms and legs sprawling across the whole bed.

Quickly, you escaped his embrace going to change into some clothes for a quick grocery run.

In the bathroom, you ran a short shower, leaving your hair up in a ponytail. who were you trying to impress?

As you brushed your teeth, the sleepy, only-boxer clad man walked in, his eyes adjusting to the light.

He placed a hand on your shoulder along with a smooch to the crown of your head.

“Where are you off to, angel?”

The man reached for his own toothbrush, standing shoulder to shoulder with you.

Ironically as Ransom started to brush his teeth, you were just finishing up.

“I’m getting a few things for breakfast. We don’t have any groceries, and I wonder why?”

The hint of sarcasm in your voice was a direct shot at Ransom for it was his fault that you didn’t have any groceries.

Everyday this week, when you had tried to go out and get groceries, Ransom would just charm you to stay home.

Now you were gonna pay the consequences for that.

Ransom spit out his own toothpaste, and proceeded to run a comb through his messy hair.

“You’re just soooo funny, (y/n). How could I possibly resist this chance to go to the grocery store with you?”

His voice went up an octave and he playfully shrugged his shoulder. The look on his face displaying faux distress.

You jokingly tapped his bottom, pushing him towards the closet.

While the diva got dressed, you ran into the kitchen making a cup of coffee for the road.

Just as the keurig quit brewing, Ransom stepped out in all of his glory.

Casually, he swiped the travel mug from your hands, stealing a quick swig.

As he did so, he grabbed your hand and gently pulled you out the door and to the Beamer.

Barely in your seat, Ransom then obnoxiously backed out of the driveway.

He always drived like he was in a car chase from a movie.

That’s why when you drived, all he did was complain about how slow you were going, when you were doing the speed limit.

“Alright, baby driver,” He muttered under his breath.

“Oh shut up, Hugh. Not all of us have a lead foot!”

Tired of the silence, you decided to switch on the radio, Ransom paying no attention as his eyes were glued anywhere but the road.

Not only did he drive like a maniac, but he acted as if were nothing.

He drove with the posture of someone taking a slow sunday drive.

It scared you as he leisurely sat back. One hand laying on the wheel, the other ready on the stick shift.

The last thing that man needed was a stick shift car. It allowed him the control. Something he did NOT need.

Anyway, here you were, flipping through the radio channels.

Nothing.

You found absolutely nothing, until you came upon one particular channel.

The familiar tune of Do They Know It’s Christmas echoed in the car.

You had only hoped that a station would play Christmas music the day after Halloween and apparently your wish was granted.

There was no better feeling in the world then flipping on the radio station to find none other than Christmas music playing.

Yes, there was thanksgiving, but there’s no such thing as thanksgiving music now is there?

Something about Christmas music just made you so happy.

You could listen to any Christmas song and like it, unlike regular music where you constantly changed the channel to find a song you liked.

A large smile made home on your face and you started to sing along.

It was time for a change in music. Especially after a whole year of listening to the same songs over and over.

(The top 100 stations really need to find some better songs)

Suddenly, Ransom’s sunglasses were pulled from his face revealing his eyes squinted at you.

“What the hell are you listening to?”

“I’m listening to Christmas music. Open your ears, Ransom.”

He just shook his head and went to turn off the station when you grabbed his hand, pretending to use it as a mic.

All I Want For Christmas Is You, by Mariah Carey came on and you were in heaven.

“I don't want a lot for Christmas. There is just one thing I need...”

Ransom laughed, allowing his hand to continuously be used as a mic during your sing along.

“Ha. Well don’t expect anything from me this year, baby. This is your Christmas gift.”

You just smiled widely, not caring if he was serious or not.

Happily, you continued to goofily sing, placing a kiss of gratitude on his knuckles.

Needless to say, seeing you happy brought a smile to Ransom’s face and it was hard to keep up the mean guy facade.

I’m in love with soft Ransom.

Also sorry for any mistakes. I typed this on mobile and I’m too lazy to proofread 🤡

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale imagine #chris evans #chris evans x reader

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fictropes · 4 years

Text

oh boy i sure did write many words in 2020

Hi! I am copying people due to i want to. This is a lil (well... 63) round up of all the fics I wrote this year! Cos i’m very evil @ myself and writing fic and think i’m either not doing enough, or not doing it good enough, so i wanna full list of what I actually did so I can see my own accomplishments and can maybe... clap 4 myself for once. And honestly writing has helped MASSIVELY with my depression so.. that’s a bonus.

ALSO. this is a big huge thankyou to everyone! I only joined here + started writing in august and you’ve all been so so nice and welcoming and supportive <333 ;_; and I know they say write for yourself... but honestly peoples comments and excitement about my stuff has just been really, really lovely and I would never have written this much without all of you cheering me on<3.

so here is a list of everything i’ve written, organised by length and everything, so if you find yourself bored over the holidays... have a lil browse. (Sorry if u are on mobile and this doesn’t show as a read more)

Chaptered:

Can we try again? series (M) Complete - 35k - “Yeah, Phil. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Dan answers, softer than he’d wanted because he already knows what he’s about to do next.(or Dan doesn't turn up in 2009 and bumps into Phil 11 years later at a youtube convention 2. I like cupcakes, especially the gay variety (M) Complete - 30k - Firstly, Dan was 29. How was that a mature student?Secondly, his actual book was on the university fucking syllabus.(or the one in which Dan tries university again in a desperate attempt to prolong his procrastination, and his lecturer Phil is apparently something of a fan) 3. 7 Letters series (M) Complete - 9k - Your penpal can be the person you live with, actually. 4. There's Beans in Here (T) Complete - 2k - Phil has his wisdom teeth removed; Phil says many questionable things. 5. Roadtrip (E) Complete - 8k - “Exactly. I am right, as always.”“As always.” Dan agrees.Series 6. night shift, please (E) Wip - 27k I PROMISE THIS WILL COME BACK IN 2021 - Ten years and he’ll never get over how early he has to get up sometimes. In all honesty he prefers the night shift. 7. Still Not Calling it Fate (M) Wip - 14k - It’s become a bit of a thing, a bit of a thing that everyone he crosses paths with takes the piss out of him for 8. when i met you, a blue rush began (M) Complete - 5k - They end up in a small restaurant overlooking the sea, everything here is so blue. The sky, the sea, Phil’s eyes, the shirt he’s wearing buttoned up all the way to the top. 9. Luggage Tags (E) Complete - 2.5k - Just because it looks like your suitcase, it doesn't necessarily mean that it is. 10. Demon in the sack (E) Complete - 2.5k - Dan’s leg jiggles beneath his desk, knee hitting the table as he tries to force himself to hang up and ring the number he was supposed to ring— he doesn’t, he can’t. Long ( for me) oneshots (3k+) 11. Electronics and the Phil's who break them (M) Complete - 9k - The first time’s an accident, a proper accident— a Phil forgot how to hold his cup and now he’s watching his coffee seep into his keyboard type accident. 12. A Letter of Specifics (T) Complete - 4k - You'll know it's your soulmate because no one else on earth could be doing what they're doing. 13. The Benefits of A Weak Floor (M) Complete - 4k - He quite literally falls through Dan’s ceiling. 14. 10:35 on a Thursday (E) Complete - 3.7k - He’s tapping his pen against the paper, acting as though he isn’t asking Phil to take a sex quiz at 10:35am on a Thursday morning. 15. 2009, catboys (T) Complete - 3.2k - “You have your own ears, can’t have four.”“Why?” 16. Wrong Room (T) Complete - 3k - “Congratulations!’’ And he was expecting to hear a cry, or at least his mother telling him to be quiet because a certain baby was sleeping. Instead he heard the deep clear of a throat, a rustling of sheets. 2k-3k oneshots 17. Dinner with a stranger (T) Complete - 2.5k - @amazingphl hi! second year of doing this, sooo if anyone has nowhere to go for Christmas dinner I am once again offering..my flat (and by extension me) ;oSeries 18. Easy Lover (M) Complete - 2.4k - ''Yeah. We're always fine.'' It was always fine. It was always easy, despite always behind hard. 19. Cold Season (M) Complete - 2k - Dan is ill, insatiable and another word beginning with I. 1k-2k oneshots 20. Morose men on rooftops (T) Complete - 1.9k - “Dunno, maybe chatting up morose men on roofs is my thing.” He laughs, and it’s a nice noise. 21. Love with tongues of fire (T) Complete - 1.7k - So when Dan waltzed into the room, declaring his hunger Phil thought nothing of it. Just another night for another takeaway. 22. Your Rocks are my Rocks (T) Complete - 1.7k - Phil wants a new rock for Norman, Dan wants a peaceful life. 23. Joint Content (M) Complete - 1.6k - It started of a as a joke— a Joint Content joke. 24. 24/7 Fantasies (M) Complete - 1.5k - He thinks about Dan 24/7, constantly in two separate fantasies 25. A Conversation in Multiple Hallways (T) Complete - 1.5k - You're still here then? 26. Sharing Space (T) Complete - 1.5k - It's 2010 and dan has had a day. 27. The Obvious (T) Complete - 1.5k - "Can I use that?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, already scrawling it beneath the only three words he currently has— I love you. 28. I'm Thinking of Ending Things (T) Complete - 1.5k - Dan hears half a conversation, jumps to one whole conclusion. 29. Love Language of the Tactile (T) Complete - 1.4k - “I’m just— that’s a hypothetical.” Dan leans in this time, takes the touches that Phil always so freely gives away. “Can’t kiss in secret rooms if I leave.” 30. Don't Let the Self-Doubt Ruin You (T) Complete - 1.3k - “I’m here.” “Yeah, you’re here.” 31. Conflict Resolution (T) Complete - 1.3k - Following recent events we’ve decided it best we take a combative approach to your current workplace issues, we have booked you into a conflict resolution class this Thursday afternoon - we will not be paying you to attend. 32. when it comes to love (i want a slow hand) (E) Complete - 1.2k - And there it is, the refusal of anything in return. This is just for Dan and it always will be. 33. You're Still The one (T) Complete - 1.1k - “What’re you thinking about?” “You.” 34. Teach Me, Dad. (T) Complete - 1k - "Do you think I could be the next Mozart?” 35. The Logistics of a Clone (M) Complete - 1k - “I don’t think that’s a clone, though, like maybe more of a Doppelgänger.” Dan doesn’t know why they’re delving so deep into this, why he’s so damn bothered about being right. “It’s just literally you.” 36. All's fair in Love and Monopoly (T) Complete - 1k - Phil does not play by the rules, Dan lets him win anyway. Under 1k oneshots 37. Hide out in your heart (E) Complete - 0.9k - The second time Dan comes to visit it’s different. 38. Oh, there you are. (G) Complete - 0.9k - So after all this, after everything, he doesn’t think anything of it when someone else slips into his dms. 39. The Boy has Attitude (T) Complete - 0.9k - “You didn’t tell me you looked like this.”“Like what?”“This!” Phil’s waving a physical copy of the magazine in his face— so that’s where he’d been. 40. Hairties (and how not to use them) (M) Complete - 0.8k - “Why would you do that? Let us settle in, nice and slow and— gently does it.” 41. The Second Apartment. (T) Complete - 0.8k - It’s a stop-gap apartment, a we’re going to get our forever home after this. 42. Japan, 2019. (G) Complete - 0.8k - NO summary, just an obviously I was going to write this after phil's post 43. Doting Man (T) Complete - 0.7k - They’re both drunk, Phil more so— definitely more so.Series 44. Imposter (T) Complete - 0.7k - Among us is.. a bastard. 45. Ratemyprofessors.com (M) Complete - 0.7k - ‘Maybe if that Phil bloke from the English dep he’s always staring at fucked him he’d stop being so uptight’ 46. Failed Attempts (T) Complete - 0.7k - Dan enlists the help of Phil for his latest Instagram. 47. Bonus Prize (M) Complete - 0.7k - Phil Trash Number One 48. Feels like home (G) Complete - 0.7k - Home is where the Phil is. 49. We can make Forever work (T) Complete - 0.7k - It’s a moment of realising forever may sound too much to people, but we’ll get through everything together— we don’t have any other choice. 50. Scene in the Kitchen (T) Complete - 0.7k - New place 51. 4'11 (T) Complete - 0.6k - Dan is baby 52. Pillow Imprints (T) Complete - 0.6k - Dan is a menace, and Phil loves him anyway. 53. Parachute Jacket (T) Complete - 0.5k - Dan thinks Phil is obsessed with them Those few times I thougt I was goddamn Ri**ard S*ken 54. Home (G) Complete - 0.7k - It’s their forever home, because their actual forever lives inside of it. 55. secrets spoken in empty rooms (T) Complete - 1k - So he wants to be the same, but he wants Dan more. 56. Separately Together (T) Complete - 0.9k - Phil’s soft hands and even softer words. It gets harder to leave. Gets to the point where Dan turns off an alarm just so he misses the train. 57. It's not hard to fall (T) Complete - 0.7k - Still a little bit of your words I long to hear Some more Epistolary (apart from 7 letters) 58. A Play in One Act (T) Complete - 1.1k - [Manchester Piccadilly train-station, midday, October 19th, 2009.] 59. R/AITA (T) Complete - 0.8k - AM I THE ASSHOLE FOR MAKING MY BOYFRIEND BE A WORM?Series 60. Lonely Hearts (T) Complete - 1.8k - I will not say you were crying on the tube (out of politeness) 61. Conversations of the Lazy Kind (T) Complete - 1k - eggs? wot? Smells like eggs

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spacemilkies · 4 years

Note

Ff7 request, Reno likes his girl taking some control over him when it comes to intimate things. Being dominated a little, he finds it extremely hot. Nsfw, sfw, your choice, but maybe some steamy kissing? Hair pulling, groping, idk, whatever you come up with ;)

Black Forest | Reno x Reader

‘The only thing harder than being a Turk, was loving one’

a/n: this was pretty much all mature content? but i'm not ashamed of it in the slightest. adding it to the black forest series, bc why not. thank you for the request!

When people thought of Reno, three things came to mind.

1. His love to fly

2. His love to flirt shamelessly,

3. His love to gossip freely.

It built the character of the cocky and often cynical Turk with a lazy disposition toward analytical genius.

When Reno thought of you, three different attributes came to mind, all centered around his adoration of your more assertive nature.

1#: Your love for attention.

Reno is convinced that he has a sixth sense for you, acutely aware every time you’re in proximity. It’s always been a distracting quality, whether in the heat of battle or now, relaxed comfortably against the couch with suspicious eyes as you kneel innocently between his spread thighs.

His call with Rude had started with business but eventually simmered into more mundane topics of social affairs and various forms of entertainment. Their partnership wasn’t a strong union without a bit of off-the-clock bonding.

It served as some much needed guy time, which was very prominently exclusive from yours.

Your selfish desire to have his attention at any given moment should have been an aggravating quality if you didn’t look so damn sexy with your attempts to garner it. Even now as his gaze follows the curve of your back as you arch to press your bosom against his chest.

He knows where this is leading immediately, yet only a small part of him feels bad for Rude.

“I … ah, no Yeah, I’m listening. I missed that highlight though. Tell me about it.”

Reno is aware of the tremor already thrumming at the end of his speech, an element of the situation that he can’t really do anything about. Neither about the hitch as you adjust your weight to hover over his apex, undulating your hips at a leisure pace with a whisper of friction. It’s the visual of promise that does most of the work as he watches the show through a half-lidded gaze. His arousal spiked the moment you entered the room and you already had a tight grip on the reins.

His leisure wear around the house does nothing to hide the thick line of provocation raising against the fabric. Reno tips his head back against the couch, the column of his throat jumping with a thick swallow as you adopt a more purposeful rhythm.

Sunlight spills across the whiteness of your smile as he responds brokenly to a prompt you can’t pick up on the other line. There’s a tremor to his hold of the phone, tight enough that you wonder if he’ll end the call prematurely before your fun is over.

Poor Rude has to know something is up as he fruitlessly attempts to gather the fraying threads of Reno’s attention. You can finally hear the deep baritone of his voice when you duck your head to run the flat of your tongue against Reno’s collar. There you nibble at the bone, teeth catching in away that he can’t ignore as a low groan tumbles from the redhead’s lips.

It’s enough to shift the rules of the game as you break an unnamed vow of silence, breathless sounds catching as you work yourself harder against the wet stain pooling in his lap. The pleasure is more than mutual now, Reno’s shoulder’s going taut with strain. He wets his lips sloppily and tilts his hips upwards to catch the downward drag against his more than interested erection.

The moment he opens his mouth to speak, you’re there to kiss the heat straight from his tongue, demanding entrance without question as your tongue slides against his aperture. With a whimper and sigh, you shift closer.

You’re not sure who breaks the kiss first, only reminded of a certain third party as Reno’s mouth skims down your chin.

“Sorry, Rude. It appears I’ve been summoned.”

#2 Your love to punish.

“Aw, Reno are you crying?”

He wasn’t, he wanted to deny vehemently. But as his eyes drew in tight together and the moisture collected against his lashes it didn't make for a very convincing argument. Shifting fruitlessly, Reno draws in a harrowing breath as the strain of his muscles pulls against the taut restraints pinning him to the bed frame.

It had taken him too long into a week of silence to realize he was the reason behind it. He had interpreted your cold shoulders and lack of communication as stress on the job, certainly not taking into account the plethora of time it allowed you to simmer about his blunder.

A fault he still couldn't pinpoint but he was sure if he asked anyone at the office, they would be able to procure a list out of nowhere. The redhead had a tendency to align towards recklessness and careless attitudes which more than often spelt trouble. One would think he would have learned his lesson by now. But they weren’t privy to the curriculum of those classes.

Or how enjoyable they were.

Or maybe he was just a bit of a masochist.

Folded snuggly around his turgid cock, Reno found heaven in the pits of hell as your drenched core worked back and forth. You were a sight to behold, seemingly unaffected aside from a light sheen of sweats as you grind the bareness of your flesh against his. While he’s the opposite, harsh pants and uninhibited whimpers.

And you enjoy it all with a wicked smile.

You adjust your hands, placing on against the firm heat of his chest while the other braces against the white curve of his shoulder, fingers curling into a visible pressure that blooms against the color of his skin. Your back arches, allowing the head of his cock to catch at the ring of your entrance before rotating back to ride back down his shaft.

His arms jerk with the motion of trying to reach, but it's an empty action without any real intent. More of a reflex than anything else. The spill of his precum makes a sticky web between your fingers as you circle the sensitive slit with your thumb. He’s swollen and fat and barely hanging on by a prayer.

With the help of a cock ring it might have made it easier. No matter how hard he tried to cum it just wouldn’t be in his cards. But there was something more beautiful about the curtailment he holds himself accountable to, resisting the urge to blow when having all the freedom to do so.

There is active pleasure in riding him like this, feeling every vein of his throbbing arousal spike gratification against your sensitive walls. But the true satisfaction came from every shudder and choked groan as he shakes his head to fight off the haze.

Mercy is a thin promise, slippery as your tongue skims across the seam of his lips. He believes it’s the closest he’ll get to tasting you, a bitter whimper leaking from his mouth in a muffled sound. The kiss is messy and hungry as you allow him the opportunity to sample your pleasure.

It only takes a subtle twist of the hips to guide his cock back in line as you back into the press of him inside you. Your wetness spills around him, almost excessively so as it spills against his inner thigh. It doesn’t take much for you to lose traction of your own orgasm, nothing stopping you from quaking freely around him as he rolls into a few finishing thrusts before stilling.

He’s rock hard, tremulous and near delirium and yet-

“Fuck me … I’m so in love with you.”

#3 You love the satisfaction of pleasing what's yours.

“You look stressed.”

Despite the mountain of paperwork on his desk, Reno’s attention was happily placed elsewhere. Before rolling to you, his gaze seemed very attentive to the screen of his phone as his fingers tapped a rhythm that looked more familiar to a mobile game than a response for a work related email. But now that you were here, he seemed pleased to have a new distraction.

Curling his fingers inward, he beckoned you closer and the moment you were in reach he pulled you into his lap.

“Beyond fucked over, you see all this shit Tseng has me doing?”

Laughing humorously at his expense, you leaned in to press a kiss to the generous exposure of his chest. “If that’s the same stack I saw delivered in here earlier today, I’m more inclined to say the blame is in your park. Did you even try?”

The hand at your waist squeezed as his lips formed something between a gripe and a grumble of complaint. “Of course I’ve been workin, yo. What do I look like, a freeloader?”

It was an open invitation that took credible effort not to buy into.

“You look like you could use a bit of TLC.”

Bracing against his shoulder, you readjust yourself to straddle his lap. Taking his face into your hands, you coax him into a slow kiss the taste of stale coffee and mints mixing with your own tang. Reno bites your tongue and you reflexively tangle your hands in his hair to pull it taut.

He winces at the action but doesn’t complain. “What are the chances of you riding me being in that wholesome itinerary of yours?”

You take the opportunity to make him flinch again, this time away from the sharp nip of your teeth against his bottom lip. “Slim to none.”

He offered a placating medium by rubbing his palms against your thighs, “So what do you have in mind then?”

His answer comes in the form of your hands at his buckle.

Pleased with the predictable but unvoiced assumption, Reno leans back readily in his chair to give you ample room. “Oh, shit yeah.”

Rolling your eyes, you free him from his briefs and curl your fingers around his length,”Try not to embarrass yourself.”

The redhead hisses out a ‘yes, ma’am’, instinctively rocking his hips into the downward thrust of your hand. You pull away just long enough to spit crudely into your palm before returning with an underhand grip. Anticipation seizes his muscles, overlaying the strain of stress as eyes slid shut.

At home you would have gone for a more languid approach, mimicking a gentle massage to build him up slowly and bring him down just as gently. But work offers a different time restraint as you work up to a more persistent, fluid motion strokes.

The hand still lingering on your thigh squeezes reflectively to the drag of your thumb over the head of his cock. The setting is too much of a stimulant to ignore, the need to rush injecting adrenaline into his veins and blooms outward from the line of his spine.

Familiar with the course of pleasure, you preemptively snatch a few tissues from the corner of his desk just in time to save his uniform from the spilling capitulation.

You’re still running the edges of the balled up material against your hands when his eyes blink open.

“Aw, you’re not going to lick it off? What a buzz kill.”

Despite his seemingly ungrateful wording, his tone held the gratitude needed to produce a smile on your lips to which he mirrors. Tucked away but still unbuttoned, he draws you in for a kiss that you indulge momentarily before slipping away.

When you look over your shoulder, the man is still sagged in his chair with a look of satisfaction as his wiggles his fingers in your direction.

“See you at home, yo. Thanks for the good ole’ love and care.”

#reno x reader #ff7 reno #ffvii x reader #ffvii remake

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boogiewrites · 4 years

Text

Never Break the Chain Pt. 2

Part 2 of 5

Characters: Javier Peña x OFC

Summary: Javier and Esme's first time seeing each other in almost twenty years. A photograph leads to an obsessive hunt for the woman he thought was dead. They both find they got where they wanted. But is it what they want now?

Warnings/Tags: Tension. Big reunited kiss.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Time passes, as it always has and always will. It stopped for no man, not even Javier. Seeing his first love fade into nothing had left him a different man. Walls came up, barriers were built that his enemies would even be impressed by. She’d done him a favor, snapping him out of the young man’s dream, but he felt he had nothing left but trying to help once she was gone. So he threw himself into his work.

Sure there were other women. He thought he loved some, but would always leave them. He always hurt them and that wasn’t his intention precisely but they would thank him years later. He was what they would refer to in close company as “a dodged bullet”. He’d been called far worse.

He despised his cliche reactions to his trauma sometimes. Drinking, smoking, being a general pain in the ass, renowned and proud asshole was easier. Burying yourself in prostitutes and let them take away the thoughts for a little while was the easiest. He would fantasize he could help them, even save some of them. He surely wasn’t getting his hero complex stroked when it came to his work. He had a soft spot for women, he had learned the hard way the shit deal they’d landed when they were born. He couldn’t do much...but he could try to help. So he did. Loss after loss he kept trying. This was that bit of good Esme had always believed in. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would have it so he made the best of it while he could.

The night before was nothing knew, an old habit at this point for him. He went out and got a woman, he’d pour every bit of good in him into her, convincing himself he still had it. He’d make them feel good, listen to them, things that were in short supply in their lives from men. He could be that good guy exception, if only for a short while. It felt nice to not be looked at with disgust or fear. The slivers of affection kept him going after dark. He’d leave them breathless, moans turning to laughs as they dressed, joking they might not make him pay. But they always took the money. And he offered it with no judgment, pulling his jeans on and halfway through a highball glass as his lean outstretched arm offer up their compensation for making him feel something good and push out the bad thoughts for a short while. He could be making worse decisions.

He rubs his temple, suppressing a groan as he slid his way into the uncomfortable chair at the beaten-up metal table. The chatter of his coworkers all making their way into the room was grating but nothing he couldn’t ignore. Morning debriefing, something he gave a shit about. Well, work was the one thing he gave a shit about right now, hyper-focused on the clock and trying to drown out the obsession off the clock. It was a dynamic that he was still trying to perfect. He downs the hot black coffee in his hand and nods at the secretary just outside the doorway, “Get me another, sugar. No sugar.” he winks and sends her off. She side-eyed him and went on her way, that was just Pena to her, horny but harmless. He cracks his back, a grunt before landing his elbows on the table to focus, the overblown commander coming in with a handful of photos, spreading them on the table as they talked about what they always did, the cartel.

Pena tries to approach everything individually, but there was only so much range these guys had, and not seeing them all as one giant collection of piss ants with assault rifles was something getting harder and harder to do. So as new and old names were said, he watched the board fill out, the line attaching known connections and new ones. There had been a new wave of intel, something Pena and his partner Murphy were used to being the ones doing, but he wouldn’t complain if someone else finally wanted to sack up and their fucking job like they were supposed to.

“So we have our old friends,” a slap of photos to the board. “Then there’s a new round of boys coming in.” he taps the newest addition to the board. “Seems we’re getting inbred with the other families, the jewel smugglers, the miners...seems we’re trying to venture out and expand our already impressive portfolio.” he snorts.

“They can never just be fucking satisfied with their millions.” someone groans and complains.

“It’s a good chance try to take them down too.” Murphy shrugs.

“Eyes on the prize, kiss ass,” Pena says quietly, accepting his coffee without a second glance. “Do we know these women?” he asks with a nod in the direction.

“Typical.” Murphy rolls his eyes.

“No. Our assumption is prostitutes. Nothing new there.” the commander goes on, but he quickly becomes background noise as Pena stands and moves toward the board. He stood, hips jutted forward, eyes scanning, hand over his mouth in thought. Once he saw the new pictures he hadn’t heard another word the men had said. “PENA!” barked his way grabs his attention as he casually shifts his attention.

“Mmmph. Yeah.” he mutters, eyes moving back to the board.

“I was informing you, you’d be doing street intel on these newcomers.”

“Yeah,” he says disinterested, thumbing his lip before placing his hands on his hips. “Do we have these photos in color?”

The question catches the room off guard. “Why?” he’s met with annoyed opposition.

“This woman…” he taps the photo of a woman with a sly smile on the arm of a very powerful man. Dark waves teased and a heart-shaped face buried in a fur coat collar worth more than he made in a year. He clears his throat. “I’ve seen her before…”

“They’re whores Javi, of course, you have.” Murphy leads the room in a wave of amused hums and chuckles.

“No I’m serious,” he says with no inflection, catching his partner’s attention. “Do we have a location on them if there’s no color?”

“Why’s color important?”

He’s quiet for a moment, jaw tense and eyes blinking, baffled at what he was allowing himself to think. “Her eyes… were green.” MUrphy readjusts himself in his seat, watching Pena’s eyes carefully. He could swear they looked sad.

“What information we’ve got is here.” the commander points at the table with its thick manilla envelopes.

Javier nods with no spoken response, staying in place until the room is empty except for a hesitant Murphy who approaches him. “Who is she?” he asks quietly.

He shakes his head in response. “It can’t be her,” there’s a heavy pause, “But it...fuck it looks like her…” his voice trails off and Murphy is left with more questions.

“Well, are you gonna answer me or just write poetry about her Javi?”

“She’s…” he sighs and sucks his teeth. “She’s supposed to be dead.”

“Did you-?”

“No… no… nothing like that.” his voice still quiet. “I knew her… fuck...over a decade ago now.”

“So we can add hunting ghosts to our agenda now too. Great.” Murphy takes it lightly and presses his lips together. He stares at Javi, his eyes dark and focused. He was left with more questions than answers. His money was still on it being a hooker. It’s not as if Pena had even talked about Esme since the investigation when he was young. His partner may have his back in life or death situations, and they may have been close, but no one knew about her. Pena had hoped to keep it that way. He hoped he was wrong. He hoped it wasn’t her. Because if it was… well he didn’t know what he’d do.

---------------------------------------------------

Esme didn’t know it but with every minute that passed, she was being proven right about her belief in her first love, that if he knew she was alive, that he would find her.

Esme had ran, a bug out bag down the river and no trace left behind. She made her way south over the years, learning her craft and making friends in the right places. She’d started with rich men, especially rich white men trying to make a living off exploiting her fellow man in Mexico. It had been almost too easy. They thought nothing of her and wore her as if she were a watch; on their arm and shiny and proof of their wealth. She would gain access, gather intel and then sweep in and take the goods and ghost out.

Esme had been legally declared dead and was now living as Estelle. She had so many names over the years but her current incarnation was Estelle. And she was a star. She’d become what she wanted, she was rich and self-reliant. She needed no one and had her fun as she craved it. There were men and women and drugs and jewels and for so long it had been a pleasant hazy dream. But the novelty of it wore off, she grew bored, a witness to her hypocrisy, growing soft and lazy with her indulgence. When she emerged from her haze and saw the state of the world around her she knew things had changed. Narcos now ruled the world. The government bowed to them, the poor worshipped them. She saw they were the future, the new leaders. And for her, that meant that’s where she had to be.

She found herself once again sharp and full of adrenaline. Her new role took real savvy and cunning. Otherwise, she’d end up dead for real. She cozied up, working for Narcos to steal for them. It wasn’t hard in skill, but it was in the amount of sexist shit she had to deal with. She’d killed men for laying hands on her, and worse. She’d pulled knives and guns and made frown men piss themselves as she threatened them with words they’d never heard women utter up to that point. Most of the leaders would laugh until they cried after the fact, seeing a woman act in such away. She entertained them. They underestimated her, saw her as some novelty pet that fetched things and entertained them. She could handle that. As long as she got paid.

Following the groups, making her way around it made sense she found herself in Columbia. She knew it was dangerous, but she was addicted to it. It filled the void of sex and drugs for her for the most part, although she did partake among her peers from time to time. She thought it made her admirable, independent, and a shining example of what a woman could be if she had the nerve to do it. She was, to a degree, but she was also wrong. She lacked the softness in her life anyone, not just a woman needed. A void where no love or trust or intimacy was in her life she filled with material things and lists of her accomplishments. if she kept busy and looking ahead she wouldn’t be still king enough to face her demons.

Except she was about to come face to face with her biggest one.

—

As was his way, Javier had become a bit obsessed. He had to know if this woman was Esme. He’d been tracking her and was able to have DEA level observation to do it. It was a personal mission he’d been able to spin to look like a cartel one. There was a connection, she was seen with them, but little was known outside of that. After he’d put the word out for the beautiful woman with green eyes it hadn't taken long before someone scorned by her leaked information on her next job. The informant knew what his boss wanted to be stolen and when she’d be there. Normally no agent or cop would care to pay attention to her, or some jewels being stolen, she was just some woman to them. But serendipitous timing made sure she became THE woman for one of them.

She practically waltzed into the store. She scaled a fence, a wall and came through a window but for her, that was practically begging her to steal from them. The rooms were dark, silent except for the sounds of her feet as she made her way into the back, unseen and unbothered. It wasn’t until she’d stopped to admire her score before snatching it they the clicking of a gun behind her caught her attention.

He’d waited in the shadows, and none too patiently. With the aim set to intimidate, not kill, he Easter no more time. “Who are you?” It came out as an order.

Her head snapped up, back still to the faceless voice she felt was all too familiar. She blinks, the former goal now removed and replaced with a flood of emotion. She remains silent, her turn to be shocked like he was when he saw her face in the photos.

“Turn around.” Another order. The voice was deeper, darker now but still made her feel the same way.

She turns, and painfully slow. She doesn’t meet his intense gaze immediately, reading his body language first and calming her racing mind. There’s no way it was him.

There’s no way it’s her, his mind reassures him. But as soon as her eyes raise to meet his his stomach drops. He was right.

“Javi?” It was almost a whisper, for the first time in she couldn’t remember when she didn’t hide her emotions in her face.

The gun falls first, his sense falling to the wayside as it slipped into its place in the back waist of his jeans. His frame was broader, still lean moves towards her with an earned confidence now. He doesn’t speak, staring at her as if she might not be real. She gives him his time. He’d earned it. “It really is you.” It was his turn to let the veil fall, dark eyes shining in the low, cool light.

She nods. “Javi I can explain.” She begins, prepared to apologize and ask forgiveness before asking him why the hell he was there at all. They were a long way from home.

“You’re alive.” A rather obvious statement that made her smile. It was all he could handle.

“I can explai-“ a quick burst of words before they’re cut off by his mouth landing against hers. She hadn’t expected this. She was prepared for many things last but not this, at least not for him to be kissing her. “Javi my-“ she tries to get out but his hands are already on her cheeks, hot and damp and certain. She lets her concern fade for a moment, it would all be fine. She gives in to it, lets him take the lead, and pull her against him roughly. The anger and hurt coming through in his grip on her back and face as they kissed breathlessly. He stole her focus without trying, there was the signature huff from his nose, the nuzzle into her between separating to catch his breath but he felt different. But so did she.

Where they once held differences in certainty they now held the opposite. He kissed her like he just found out his first love was alive after decades of vices to cover the loss. Because he had. Every woman and experience he’d had between her and now, every skill and thus gained confidence was clear and apparent. This was not a boy handling a girl. He was a man handling his woman.

And there she was, blindsided and touch starved, passion and intimacy starved being devoured by the only man she’d ever truly loved. The only man she’d ever let in and see her for what she was. The only man that knew Esmeralda. It was a raw and painful ache that emanated from her chest as she clutched her hand around his wrist and the other gripped his shirt in her hand. She gave in because she knew it wouldn’t last long, and after it was over she’d miss it.

With eyes squeezed shut, his forehead pressed to hers, his statuesque nose gently rubbing against hers he exhales hot against her face. “Esme…” he pulls back and holds her face, demanding her focus.

“It’s been so very long since someone’s called me that.” she sighs and puts her hands on his forearms.

“Since I called you that?”

She nods and smiles, face pressed into his hand.

“Maybe it’s about time people called you that again.” he pauses and looks her over with a hard brow, he couldn't hide his simmering anger underneath the confusion, relief, and affection. “Where the fuck have you been?” She sighs in response. “Why the hell are you HERE?”

“Same as you. Work.”

“Why are you with those men? Don’t you know who they are? What they do?”

“Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?”

“Why Esme?” his eyes water and his hands squeeze her face a bit too tightly before a wave of dizziness hit him.

“Same reason now as then,” she whispers, his grip loosening and not hearing her response, she slicks his dark hair back as his eyes start to roll around in their sockets. “You're fine, Javi. Seems you fell for my defense mechanism.” she smiles and he looks at her, starting to slump. “To be fair I didn’t know to expect you. You’ll wake up soon enough. It’s only temporary.” she wipes the culprit of the sudden wave of forced unconsciousness he was going through, her lipstick off his mouth. He was out quickly, and she spent some long moments exploring the now aged face of her once wide-eyed companion. “You are even more handsome than I thought you’d be.” she coos and kisses him after dragging him into a chair and pushing it into a corner so he wouldn’t fall. “It now inevitable we’ll meet again. My old hound dog.” She chuckles, a kiss to take in the scent of his hair before she parted ways. “See you later, mi amor.”

-----------

Peña awoke to a boot knocking against his knee and an odd headache. It was pitch black outside by now, people on the streets outside none the wiser to the life-altering experience he’d just had.

“Are we blacking out in stores now?” Murphy snarks and shakes his head, leaning against a door frame.

“That’s not...I’m not…” Javier shakes his head, rubbing and tapping at the pulse in his skull.

“Then what the hell is it?” He can hear the judgment in his partner's voice.

“If I told you you would think I was crazy.” he groans and sits up with his back straight in the chair, one cocked brow looking over to the man staring him down.

“And I don’t now?”

Peña huffs out a laugh. That was a fair assessment. He’d think the same thing. He looked across the room, the glass case he’d found her standing in front of now empty. “She took the jewels.” he switches the subject, an arm raised lazily and collapsing against his lap after.

“Were they made of cocaine? Why do we give a shit?”

“It’s not the jewels that are important. It’s the woman that did it.”

“A woman? Huh. That’s something you don’t see every day. That is… a little bit crazy I guess.”

“That’s not what’s crazy.”

“Am I gonna have to fuckin’ waterboard you man, just tell me.” he groans.

“That woman I told you about... that stole those... she's been declared legally dead for almost twenty years.” he finally says with a defensive tone and a face that said don’t fucking try me to the man still assessing his sanity with no attempt at hiding his negative prognosis.

“Oh.” Murphy contemplates looking away to the empty case. “That... yeah okay that is crazy.”

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