#was upset about within a couple hours as soon as I get distracted

[sappymix1]

can we all just pretend that didn't happen

[footballxixstars]

I think some german readers are happy now since you‘re okay with writing about Florian Wirtz :)

He posted a Story on Instagram where he‘s on vacation at the moment, so maybe one where it‘s your first trip together and he randomly says thank you for supporting/encourage him during the last months because of his bad injury

Take your time with writing if you have to do some researching first! :) I think he‘s a very calm and chill guy

This Is A Thank You • Florian Wirtz

The season has been a tough one for both you and Florian. Florian had unfortunately got an injury in March, a cruciate ligament rupture, meaning that he has been out ever since and to make it even worse it was his first major injury. He’s had little injuries before that have kept him out for a game or two at a time however this was the first time he was going to be out for a prolonged period of time and even miss half of a season. The fact he was missing so many games was making Florian feel really uneasy because so much could happen during that time and he can’t do anything to alter what happens. The person who starts the games because Florian is out may do amazing and then Florian no longer has a position within the team or when he comes back he may no longer be as good as before his injury. There are so many things that can happen during this time so obviously, Florian is going to be uneasy. He has no control right now.

During that time you were his absolute rock. Whenever he was down you’d always be the first to talk to him and find various ways to cheer him up and distract him from football and his injury even if it was for an hour or so. Anything was better than him pouting about his injury for months upon months. It felt like you were the only person that he would listen to and even talk to about his struggles so obviously you were his rock during this whole ordeal and you never minded that. What made your support even better for him was that the two of you had only begun dating in September of the previous year, so 6 months before the injury occurred and you were still there for him. You hadn’t once walked away when he was really upset and doubting whether he would be able to come back or when he would sometimes get angry at you for no reason just because he was scared. You were always there for him.

From that moment he knew that he had to do something huge to thank you for all of the support and encouragement that you gave him. From that moment he knew that you deserved the world and so much more that he couldn’t give you but he was going to try. Whatever his brain could come up with he was going to do. You deserve to be spoiled and that is exactly what he is planning to do.

“How about going on a trip?” Florian asked you one day. At first you were confused because you thought that he couldn’t travel far because of his physiotherapy and all that but when he started to explain to you that he could do it online and as long as somebody was around to watch him and help him if need be then his trainer said it was fine. After some consideration and verification from his trainer, not that you didn’t believe Florian but it was nice to get verification from a professional, and as soon as you did you agreed to go on this trip with him. Why not? It’ll be a lot of fun to go away with him for a couple of days and just relax, especially after the past few months which have been a really tough time for the both of you.

After that conversation nothing else really got said about the trip except from Florian telling you dates so you could be ready and get the days off from work. You trust Florian to pick a good place and a place where you are both able to relax whilst he can carry on with his physiotherapy too. A place where there is nice food, both restaurants and things you are able to cook yourself, a place that has nice scenery around, that you won’t get bored of and can just enjoy, a place with nice weather, to relax and just take in the sun. There wasn’t a lot that you wanted and you trust Florian enough to pick a decent place for the both of you. Would that be a mistake? You are yet to see.

Slowly the day crept up and before you knew it you were on a plane flying to some remote destination that Florian had picked out. You were excited about it as it was your first trip away together and it was just the two of you too. It would be nice for Florian to be able to take his mind and not focus on the injury which was getting better day by day and it would just be nice for you to get out of the country for a little bit. Whether it is only a couple of days or a couple of weeks, any time will be nice.

And it was nice. He had rented this nice place for the both of you where there was a private pool and only a short walk away from the local market and shops and beach too so it was localised and easily accessible for Florian to walk even with his injury. Along with that the small place that he had rented had its own private gym too so Florian could do his workouts without being bombarded by people or feeling rushed too. It was a good pick. A very good pick from Florian and you can see yourself allowing Florian to pick the place of your next holiday together.

“Can we go out for a meal tonight at one of the local restaurants?” Florian asked you and he sounded pretty nervous about it too.

“Of course,” You stated, quite excited by that idea. It would be nice to go out and around the local area and eat some of their cuisine to try it out. It’s always fun to try new foods and you were excited to get out of the villa for a couple of hours with him. It would just be different than sitting inside and cooking for yourself or just heating up pre-made meals for Florian. A nice little date for both of you and you did get dressed up for it. Not a lot but just enough to know the difference between your usual wear and the fact it’s a special occasion so a little dressed up yet still comfortable. It was going to be nice.

Florian had picked out a lovely local restaurant, just a couple minutes' walk from the villa which was perfect considering Florian’s injury. The scenery around the place was absolutely stunning. It was the kind of scenery that you would never find in a touristy location or the hustle and bustle of a city. (Not that the scenery is bad in major cities or touristy locations, it’s just different and a change). It wasn’t modernised like the majority of the world is nowadays as it was clearly still in the original building and maybe a few structural bits were added to make sure that it meets the safety standards but it was still the original building which was built hundreds of years ago. Along with that, the inside wasn’t modernised either it matched the outside aesthetic wonderfully. It was a really lovely place and you’re glad that Florian managed to take you here for a mini date. Hopefully the food is as nice as the place looks and if the busyness of the place is anything to go by then you’re certain the food will hold up to your expectations.

The atmosphere around the place was calming just what you want it to be like when you go out for a romantic meal with your other half. A lot of other romantic restaurants are hectic so this one being all calm was nice. Even though it was quite busy, thankfully Florian put in a reservation, it still had a calming atmosphere and it wasn’t loud so you were able to talk to Florian without having to raise your voice at all. If there's one thing that you’ve noticed since dating Florian it’s that he’s good at picking locations for dates.

The two of you constantly talked and laughed together only stopping when the waiter came over but as soon they left the conversation sparked up again. It was always easy to talk to Florian about literally anything. If or when there were silences between you it was never awkward it was comfortable and that was something that you loved about hanging out with Florian since the beginning. The silence would never last very long either since you or Florian would come up with something else utterly random to have a conversation about and even if the conversation topic was one neither of you really understood or were into you still managed to converse in conversation with each other because it was highly likely the other person was into it and you both want to learn about each other's interests and hobbies. Even after dating for a few months there were still many hobbies and interests to learn about each other so those are easy conversations to start up. This time it was Florian’s turn to start one up. Not that you take turns.

“I just want to thank you for everything that you’ve done for me during my injury,” He started off by saying to you. As he was speaking he was trying to think of the perfect words then but he quickly realised there were no perfect words for it. There were no words to describe how thankful he was for your support and encouragement through the tough months. The holiday was one way to thank you but he knows that you deserve more than that and he will give you more than that.

“I love you and this injury has just made me realise how much and how lucky I am to actually have you by my side,” Florian continued but this time staring at you directly in your eyes and not anywhere else letting you know how truthful he was being. To let you know how much he really does appreciate you and everything that you have done for him, especially during this difficult period. He just knows that without you by his side it would’ve been so much worse to deal with so he had to thank you. This was only the beginning of the thank you, he’d thank you more a bit later and then again properly when he is fully healed.

“I love you too,” You whispered back leaning over the table, so Florian didn’t have to strain his injury anymore, just to place a kiss against his lips. There was no need to thank you for anything because you were doing what you should do for the person you love when they’re hurting and injured. It’s just the basics but it did feel nice to feel appreciated by him. You were going to take it all in and enjoy your first holiday with Florian. Your first holiday alone together. Hopefully the first of many.

———

MASTERLIST | MORE WIRTZ

[romaelettuce]

The Fire Within Us- Chapter Ten

A/N: got distracted because of Daddy (Pedro) and Uncle-daddy (Matt) at the Oscar's After Party 2023, anyways, here you go

Warning: Smut

If he could just squint into the darkness, the scandalous information could not be delivered by Arryk.

The knight had remained on Dragonstone, ever so loyal to the Greens, and had delivered the affair to the ambitious Hand.

Erryk had warned him not to push it further, for they could avoid the upcoming war he had sensed.

"We are under his command. We are to seal that secret." He said to his brother as soon as he walked past him.

"I did what was right, my brother, the King should know."

"And that is why I liked you more," The Hand says, almost skipping like a little girl, ready to deliver the news early in the morning.

Otto breathed deeply as he heard the faint voice of the King from inside.

"What is it?" Viserys sleepily said, holding on to a chair near him.

"I apologize for the early hour, Your Grace, I have some discomforting news, I thought it best to discreetly divulge it before the council convenes."

"Is it about the Sea Snake?" 

He pretends to be upset about it. "I'm afraid it concerns the Princess, my King."

Viserys raises both his brows as he takes that in.

"Has she been harmed?" The King asks innocently."Why? What has she done??"

Otto took a deep breath, pretending to care. 

"The Princess was spied last evening...with Daemon."

He expected a great reaction,but received nothing. Rhaenyra promised they'll be back soon, yet he wonders what's gotten into him.

"Yes, and what of it?" He then asks again innocently.

Yet the Hand pushes it further. "They were engaged in behaviours unbecoming of a maiden Princess."

He still didn't get it, but Viserys has started to get furious about this.

"What behaviours?" 

Otto pauses for a moment, bewildered at his responses.

"Well, must I say it, Your Grace?" 

This made the King walk closer to him, Alicent listening in from a corner.

"You enter my bedchamber, accusing my daughter of something." He growls, the taller man steps back.

"Now speak it plainly."

He raises both of his brows, staring at him, debating if he would say it out loud.

" ...coupling."

Oh how he wanted to kill him in this very room, for accusing them. The people he loves the most.

"This is a lie," He says, flatly. "You have been lied to.

"I only wish that were true, your Grace."

It is the truth.

Alicent even winced as his voice started to deepen.

"Who is responsible for this gossip?"

Viserys steps a little closer. "Have this rumormonger brought before me at once, and I will take their eyes."

"As your Hand, I must maintain trusted sources of information, and this one has never led me astray."

This ambitious fucking-

"Are you so sick with ambition that you would have my daughter stalked? Spied upon? Awaiting your best to fucking destroy her reputation just for some unproven slander?"

"I have no such intent,Your Grace." He plainly lies.

And Viserys knew what Daemon had meant.

"You think yourself a cunning man, it is clear." The king scoffs.

"Do you wish to have your blood on the Iron Throne so badly that you are willing to destroy my own?"

With that, Otto couldn't look into his eyes.

"Get out." 

It is the first time he dismissed him like that.

He hated the truth; and little did he know that Otto was right all along.

Like fire, they still burned. 

Daemon ever so gently lays her bare body on the bed, towering over her small figure.

The moon barely shines, yet the stars are beautiful, twinkling and burning brighter from above.

Just like the both of them.

She has seduced him all day, trying to make him take and fuck her with his fingers as soon as they have reached the bed.

It had been a bloody routine and she fucking loved every single moment of it.

He too ached to touch her, finally giving up resisting. He kisses her soft lips, loving the way the candles illuminate her ethereal face, her silver hair spread upon the pillows.

His needy hands touch her all over as she reaches up to his bed shirt, swiftly taking it off before he can object. She pulls his head closer, his lips immediately attacking her neck, nibbling on her skin, a low sigh coming out from her mouth as he moves his lips down, suckling her collarbone.

Daemon leans his body slightly, pressing himself down between her thighs, her wet cunt pulsating against the friction he creates, rocking his clothed erection into her heat as he shows her the true meaning of want.

She looks up to his eyes and sees the same hunger she felt whenever she sees him.

After all, it was Daemon that she longed for, not Ser Criston.

She pulls his head to her heart, her stomach fluttering as he wraps his warm lips on one of her hard peaks, his tongue once again moves in circles. He praises her glorious breasts, her nipples hardening against his touch.

She held his head, her delicate hands caressing his scalp, threading her fingers in his hair, begging him not to stop.

"Shh..." He rises a bit, releases her nipples as he feels her come, ruining his breeches, and he didn't care.

He smiles down at her, pleased that he had pleased her.

Did he just make her come like that?

He traces a finger on her every so lightly, yet her clit recognizes his touch.

"You are mine..." He whispers, lowering his lips once again to suckle on her breasts, his long fingers flicking her peaks hard that she did not even wince at how harsh he was when it comes to fondling her breasts.

He didn't even think about the words he muttered. And Rhaenyra, she knew that Daemon wanted her too.

Her head falls back on the pillows, her back arching as he trails his kisses down her burning body, his warm lips making contact just above her little navel. Her body trembles under him as he starts to lower himself, settling between her legs.

This is new, the Princess' thoughts roared as Daemon kissed her inner thighs, ever so gently gripping her legs, letting the back of her creamy thighs rest on his shoulders.

The candles die as he latches his tongue on the source of her wetness for the first time, the tip tracing up to gently press on her pulsating clit, making her back arch.

He hasn't done this before. If his fingers are that good, his tongue is so much better than those.

"Kepus..." She breathes, gripping the silk sheets as he gently moves his warm skilled tongue in circles. Daemon wasn't in a hurry, he takes his time. He felt her wiggling away as he started to suckle on her, her body shaking.

Uncle...

"Come here." He pulls her closer, closing his lips around her throbbing clit, pressing his tongue on her pearl as she tries to wiggle away again.

His hands slide up to fondle her breasts, and she immediately forgets everything, holding his hands as he mercilessly suckles on her clit, salivating over her.

It drives her crazy, letting go of 

his hands as his fingers flick her hard nipples, copying the rhythm of his tongue, flicking her sensitive clit as her cries echo throughout the dark room.

She holds onto his head as Daemon groans like Caraxes, his sound vibrating inside her body as she feels it.

"Please..." Yet she begs as his lips caress her pussy, his tongue harshly begins to caress her.

"Uncle..." 

It felt like heaven.

He pinches the peaks of her breasts, as he feels her squirm, loving the sounds she made as his mouth works magic between her legs. She couldn't get enough of it, she needed to feel him, she needed more, she needed Daemon.

Instead of wiggling away like earlier, she gently presses on his face, making him devour her drenched cunt further in the darkness.

He makes out with her lower lips, and Rhaenyra writhes as he pushes a finger inside, spreading her open.

His tongue flicks on her pussy, and suddenly thrusts it inside of her, as she tries to hold her release.

Daemon always instructed her not to come so easily.

She looks up to see if he is staring at her, but his eyes were close and she smiles, indicating that he loves spending his time between her legs.

The fire grew inside of her as he continuously ran his tongue vehemently against her aching cunt, fondling her breasts and fingering her at the same time.

Daemon grows impatient as she eventually releases, fighting the urge to continue as she comes, reminding himself that she is not a whore to obey his wishes.

This is the person he loves. The one he is in love with. 

He climbs up to suckle on her neck, kissing her face and cradling her cheeks with both hands as she handles her orgasm, her nails making their marks on his strong back.

"No one has ever...touched me like this..." The Princess manages to say, despite the air that was ripped out of her the moment his tongue touched her.

Daemon kisses her forehead, ignoring the warmth inside his heart when he heard that, his lips lingering on her head as he focuses back into teaching her even if he knew it wasn't a fucking lesson at all.

"This is how you bring pleasure to a woman, if you desire him so much, he will also offer you this."

He returns to her breasts,closing his mouth on one of her stiff peaks, distracting her and preventing himself from hearing the words that would soon change his whole fucking plan.

"I told you..." She weakly says, bringing his face up to her.

"He could never touch me the way you did." She tenderly strokes his cheeks as the Prince stilled in her arms.

"Only you can make me feel this way..."

It felt like time stopped as he fears the words he heard, he does not know what to say, he never expected her to fall for him like that.

Well, what did he expect?

He knew he made her want him, and that is the consequence he needs to face.That is  what he wanted, and now he seems to regret making her love him. Because he just realized that he knows deep down that this is not right.

The throne is going to be his the moment he asks for her hand, what the fuck is he worrying about? It is what he always wanted.

He loves her so much that he regrets everything he did. She is a child, and he is going to destroy her reputation once this reaches his brother.

Now realizing how much of a fool he is, Rhaenyra pulls his head down, molding her lips into his before he can scramble away, away from the temptation he created.

"Please..." She says, the pupils of her eyes widening as she vulnerably begs,bringing his hand between them to touch her swollen clit.

"Make me yours..." She mutters as Daemon dives below, settling again between her legs as he latches his mouth onto her swollen self, her walls clenching as he feasts on her throughout the night, making her see the stars.

And no matter how hard he will push the consequences away, it cannot be avoided, it all does not matter once he sits the Iron Throne.

But still, his pride reigned above all else. 

For he is still the Rogue Prince.

next

Shout-out to: @nyctophilic0vitnir , @grandlovescheme and @firefly-graphics

Thank you @nyctophilic0vitnir   (go to her page pls, there's a lot of fics waiting for you to read them), for the support and encouragement,for checking and correcting the errors of this piece, and for your time and effort. I appreciate you!❤

Thank you @grandlovescheme (go to her page or her A03, type in her name ⬆️) for the support and encouragement, I appreciate you bestie!💗

And credits to you @firefly-graphics , the dividers are pretty cool!! Pls Follow ⬆️❤

Tags: @grandlovescheme @nyctophilic0vitnir @janelei @eschercaine @valkyrriee @taketotheskies @obsidian-hearts @daemyrachaos @rhaenyratumbles @lady-phasma @multifandersaysgonighthawks @flamehairedsiren @theobjectofyourire @gipsydanger17 @deseretsolitaire @profoundlydecadentmentality-blog @nyrasblog @missyviolet123 @foreverinmyguiltypleasures @ruby-dragon @vsenyatargaryen

[storiesofstratos]

Chapter 3: Dinner with the Rowes

Daniel has dinner with... most of his family

“I’ll catch you guys tomorrow!” I called out to Nico and Jack, waving to them as I took off. Once they were out of sight, I started to slow down, letting out a heavy sigh. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, watching the screen brighten as I put in my passcode. One missed call from mom. Probably letting me know she’ll be home late again. A text message from Elise, asking me to pick up more snacks for the house. She was like a furnace with how she burned through all those damn snacks.

Elise hated when it was just the two of us eating, and to be honest, I couldn't stand it either. Maybe if Cyrus and Emma were available...

I flipped over to my contacts and dialed my brother's number. If I was right, then they should be closing up right about now.

“Hello?” The deeper voice of my older brother came over the line after a few rings. He never let it ring for too long, which was a good thing for me. “What’s up Daniel?”

“Hey, uh, mom’s gonna be late getting home tonight, and I’m in charge of making dinner,” I knew he had his own place, so I wasn’t going to be too upset if he declined my offer. “I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to come over and eat with us, that’s all.”

A moment of muffled speaking from the other end of the line, something I couldn’t quite make out. He was probably asking Emma if she would come too. I knew she would say yes, she never missed an opportunity to be with us.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Cyrus came back on the line after a minute. “We just closed up shop for the day, we’ll grab Freya from the sitter and then be over, how’s that sound? I'll help cook, I know you can't be trusted around that stove.”

“I am not that bad, fuck you,” God, why did I even bother? "Y'know what, don't even bother coming, I don't want you there anymore."

“Well now I have to come over, just to piss you off,” I could hear Emma scold him over the phone, which got me laughing, "Hey, don't you start laughing, I know where you live you little shit,"

"Alright, I'll see you in a couple hours," We said our goodbyes, and I got on my skateboard and headed on my way home.

Within the next two hours, I was home and the living room was full of voices. Mostly Emma and Elise, but Freya attempted to join in the conversation as well. She was very insightful, and provided a lot of wisdom to the conversation. I assumed, at least, given how passionate she was in her babbling. Well, even if Freya’s speech did sound like smashing keys on a keyboard, Emma seemed to understand her perfectly.

“She said what? How dare she?” Emma spoke to the baby, a smile on her face as Freya babbled something in response. The girls in the living room erupted in laughter, so entertained by the way Freya just babbled away, like they were actually carrying a full on conversation.

I can’t help but think about how Maria would have loved to be here.

“Daniel,” Cyrus brought me back to reality for a moment. “Can you grate up that block of cheese over there on the counter for me? We’re gonna need it soon.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Trying to distract myself from my thoughts, I quickly move over to the counter and start doing as I was asked. “Thanks again for coming over. You know Elise hates it when the dinner table is practically empty.”

“I can't say I blame her,” He looked over at me as he spoke, "I mean... if it gets too quiet, your mind starts to wander, right? Maybe to stuff you don't... necessarily wanna think about?

“Yeah, I guess so...”

There was silence between us then. It was like he was reading my mind. I felt his hand rest on my shoulder before he spoke again.

“Look... I know we've talked about this a lot lately, but, it's going on a year now. I know you're still sneaking out at night. She's gone, Daniel," He tried to give me a sympathetic look, "What happened to Maria isn't your fault, kid-"

“She’s alive. I know she is."

“And you've been saying that for a year. Look, I get it," Here he went, trying to lecture me, again. I didn't need this, "You think you could have done something... you blame yourself. You were with her when she got taken. But... it's not your fault! Playing hero isn't going to change that, Daniel, it's just-"

“I'm not-” I slammed the grater down on the counter, small cracks forming on the countertop. Shit. Deep breaths Daniel.. One. Two..

I exhale.

“Can we just not talk about this? Please.”

“..You’re right,” Cyrus probably had more to say, but he conceded for now, removing his hand from my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I went too far there.”

“Is everything alright in here boys?” Emma’s warm voice came from behind as she walked into the kitchen, holding Freya in her arms. The toddler immediately held out her arms to Cyrus, starting to whine. “She wanted her daddy. Why don’t you take her and I’ll take over cooking, yeah?” She offered their child to Cyrus and he didn’t argue, just taking her in his arms and carrying her off to the other room.

“Daniel,” Emma spoke my name as she put her arms around me, offering me a consoling hug. “Are you doing okay? How’s school?” She probably overheard me and Cyrus talking, but she was trying to distract me from the subject. She was always trying to make me feel better. “I heard you and your friends had a big project due today. You think you did okay?”

“Yeah. I think it went great. Nico’s always been really good at speaking. She’s gotta be charismatic to sell us on her crazy tinkering projects, right?” 

“She’s a smart girl. Then Jack, he’s good with research, that’s what you said, right? He must have made it really easy for you to put that project together.” She moved back over to the stove to finish what Cyrus had started.

“Oh yeah. I don’t mean to brag, but I made everything look really good. Besides, Jack didn’t cover everything we needed, so I had to improvise. I found a couple old books at the library that had what we were looking for, so I got kinda lucky.”

“That’s good! I’m glad things are going well for you. Oh, dinner’s almost ready. Would you mind calling them in here?”

Dinner wasn’t incredibly eventful. It was the same idle small talk. How was school? How was the restaurant doing? We talked about our days, but I wasn’t exactly involved in the conversation. I just stared at the clock for most of the time. It was only a matter of time before I could go back to my room, and I was counting down the minutes.

Cyrus and Emma took Freya home after dinner, leaving me and Elise sitting on the couch alone, some cryptid video playing on the television.

“Do you think bigfoot really exists?” She asked me without looking away from the screen.

“Uh..” I shrugged. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to find out about. “I mean, I don’t see why it can’t. There’s a lot about this world that we don’t know, y’know? It probably exists.”

“I thought so too,” She nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. Weird kid.

Mom came home just in time before Elise headed off to bed. I didn’t listen to what they said, but once Elise headed up to her room, I approached.

“Hey mom, we left some leftovers from dinner in the fridge. Blueberry pancakes, your favorite.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” Her smile was warm as she hugged me, holding me tightly as if she were trying to make all of my worries go away. She may have worked long hours, but she always cared about us. She never made us feel neglected. “Are you heading to bed as well? I don’t want you staying up too late playing video games again.”

“I won’t, I promise. But I am gonna turn in early tonight.” Saying goodnight to my mother, I headed back upstairs, only to check the time. It was dark out now. I opened the dresser and pulled out my hoodie, slipping it on and flipping the hood up, putting the black face mask over my mouth to mask myself further.

I wasn’t crazy. I knew I wasn’t, and I was going to show them all they were wrong. “Sorry mom..” I spoke softly as I opened my window. Slowly, I climbed out of it, dropping down to the ground below before taking off toward the city.

[something-tofightfor]

Buried: Part 9

Pairing: Agent Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x Female Reader (Agent Cider)

Word Count: 7,187

Rating: N S F W (and everything that goes along with it! - Language, sex, mentions of past womanizing, talk of various birth control methods, etc)

Summary: The cards have all been laid out on the table - or so you think. Jack still has one more trick up his sleeve ... but you’re both going to get  exactly what you’ve wanted for years. 

Author’s note:

I am so sorry that it’s taken so long to get this out - but I got very sidetracked. Cider and Jack deserved my full attention, and I wanted to wait to write and post this until I could give it to them. It will not be three months until the next update - I promise. I’m already working on Jack’s POV of this chapter, so stay tuned for part 9.5 soon (ish)

Catch up on this story via my masterlist (link in the taglist reblog)

Side note: writing smut for Jack Daniels was a very daunting task. He’s a lot to handle in every sense of the word. 

It hadn’t even been a few minutes, and you were already certain that you never wanted Jack to stop touching you. Ever. His hands were warm against your sides - large palms curved around your ribs, the ends of his fingers holding on at just the right side of too tight. It wasn’t just that he was placing them somewhere convenient; Jack was holding you, urging you to press your chest to his as he kissed you, and at the realization, you pulled on his hair again, sighing into his mouth. He wants me as much as I want him, and he means it. 

You trusted Jack implicitly with your life; that had been true even before you’d begun to understand the feelings you had for the man. But you were also trusting him with your heart, and in your mind, that was more important - and more dangerous. 

“Jack.” Whispering his name when the two of you separated long enough for you to take a breath, you leaned back, wetting your lips and meeting his eyes. “I mean it when I said to prove it. I -” You saw his eyes widen, the man waiting silently for you to continue. “I don’t want you to hold back. I want you to…” I want you to know. You had nothing to lose; the two of you were being as open as you’d ever been with each other, and while you didn’t think he’d pull back in on himself and stop being as honest when the night ended, you didn’t want to waste an opportunity. “You deserve happiness, Jack. It’s been so long for you. You should be happy. And if it’s not with me, it -” “Who else would it be with?” He said your name, and at the sound of it, you felt your chest constrict. He’d never said it that way before, and while there was pain in it, there was also surprise - almost like he couldn’t believe the things you were saying to him. “Everything else has just been a… distraction. A way to make me forget about my wife for a couple hours. Women. The job. The distillery. But you… you’re…” His eyes narrowed as he paused, and you saw sadness briefly appear within the depths of them - but it was gone only moments later. “You’re a distraction, too, but not … not in the same way.” He swore, ducking his head and you moved with him, pulling your hands away from his face and back before letting them fall onto his forearms. 

“Jack, hey.” You squeezed, but he didn’t look back up. What’s he … I don’t know where he’s going with this. You weren’t upset that he’d called you a distraction, because if you were being honest, he’d been the same for you. But I couldn’t ever do or say anything about it. “It’s alright, I promise. Just … take your time.” When he looked back up at you, you saw resolve in his eyes; the warmth back in them, too. “There you are, Jack Daniels.” 

“You’re the first thing in damn near 20 years that I haven’t wanted to be temporary.” That shook you, your grip on his arms tightening further, though you didn’t look away. “And I couldn’t even tell you that before now, because it never …” He winced as he spoke again and you lifted a hand, reaching up to settle it on his chest - palm flat and fingers splayed. This is so hard for him. “You wouldn’t have believed it because of what I’ve been doin’ for the whole time you’ve known me.” Jack swallowed, blinking quickly. “And that’s my fault, but fuck, Agent, I…” He leaned closer again, hands still on your sides and pressed his lips to yours. “You make it so goddamn easy to love you.” 

You were frozen, his lips barely separated from yours as he spoke, but the words sent a jolt of emotion throughout your body. Does he realize what he just said? Is he talking about himself, or… You’d never heard Jack say that he loved anything but his wife in the entire time you’d known him - and so you knew that his use of the word meant something. But does he mean… “What?” You forced the word out, the hand on his chest pushing the man away from you. “What did you -” “I said,” he replied, voice steady. “That you make it so goddamn easy to love you. I don’t even think you realize it, either.” His eyes were nearly blazing with intensity, but Jack didn’t look away, instead pulling one of the hands away from your body and bringing it up to the back of your neck. “I didn’t even realize it at first. Not for a long time, and after I did, I didn’t … couldn’t admit it.” Why? But you knew why - and so you didn’t even ask. Jack would always feel guilty when it came to his wife and the way he actually felt about other women, even after she’d been gone for so long. “But you know what?” He squeezed your neck before moving his hand - bringing it back to your face and letting his thumb run over your cheek, the other fingers curled beneath your jaw. “It’s the truth. And I was so fucking stupid for not letting myself…” Jack wet his lips and took a deep breath, thumb paused next to your lips. “I fell in love with you, even though I did everything I could to stop it from happening.” 

“Jack…” You knew that your lower lip was trembling, and that the man could likely feel the erratic beating of your heart, but you didn’t care. “You… you did what?” You got a brief smile in return at that, Jack leaning forward again. He fell in love with me. That means that he … His thumb moved over, swiping slowly across your lips in the moments before he kissed you again, but when you spoke, it was against the pad of it, because he hadn’t moved it out of the way. “I love you, too, Jack.” 

You’d never thought you’d hear yourself say the words out loud, but once they were out, it was like a dam had broken, the depth of the feelings you’d harbored toward the man for years overflowing. He didn’t pull his hand away before he kissed you, instead pressing his lips to both  his thumb and your mouth with a bruising intensity, almost like he couldn’t believe that you’d spoken - or what you’d said to him. Not after what we’ve been through. The tip of his finger caught on your lower lip as he pulled his hand down, and on autopilot, you arched your neck, unwilling to lose the contact even though his forehead was still pressed to yours. Wait. Inhaling sharply through your nose, you opened your eyes fully. He… we… “What’s goin’ on? You alright?” 

I remember. You remembered the way he’d kissed you in the hotel room in St. Paul the moment both of you had removed your boots - your fingers working to undo the zipper on the man’s coat as you stumbled through the small space, Jack’s hands pushing the bottom of your coat up - right along with the shirt you wore beneath it. He couldn’t stop touching me, and I didn’t … “I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to stop touching you, Jack. And you couldn’t… in St. Paul, you couldn’t stop -” “You had to tell me to stop kissin’ you when it was time to go and do what we were there to do.” It was his turn to stare at you with wide eyes, the man’s mouth hanging open after he’d said the words to you. I did. I had to tell you to stop otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to. 

“You wouldn’t have let it go all the way, and I know that, but the way you kissed me, Jack? The way we…” You curled your fingers against his chest, the material of his shirt wrinkled against your palm. We both wanted it. We both still do. Why are we waiting? “Can we go to bed, Jack? We can stay right here if you want, but…” You felt him shudder, but he never looked away, eyes locked with yours. “But I’d rather we -” 

He didn’t let go of you, instead just shifting the position of his hands to pull you closer to the edge of the counter, urging you to slide off of it. I guess that means he… “You want a bed?” Swallowing hard, you nodded once. “Then I’m gonna give you a bed.” Jack steadied you as your feet made contact with the floor, his hands resting at your hips. “I’m gonna give you whatever you want, Agent.” He murmured the words as he leaned in again, kissing you once more as your lower back was pressed against the edge of the countertop, and you found yourself winding both arms around his neck to hold him in place, sighing as your lips moved with his. I could stay right here and be happy. “C’mon.” 

He spoke again when he pulled away, standing up straight and looking down at you. This is really … it’s really happening.  “Lead the way, Jack.” Holding out a hand as a joke, you were shocked when he took it, the man’s grip tight but not painfully so. It didn’t take much time to go the distance to his bedroom, and even though you’d seen it before, you’d never been led inside by the man himself. “Door open or -” “Whatever you want.” Jack was facing you again, though he’d dropped your hand to flip the light on, the overhead bulb dimming as he adjusted the sliding switch. “Nobody else is coming in here, but if you’d rather …” You turned as he spoke, closing your eyes and taking a long breath as you pushed the door shut - the quiet click echoing through the otherwise silent room. The man said your name, and before you could turn back toward him, you felt his arms wrapping around your body, Jack urging you to press your back to his front while he lowered his head next to yours. “Before anything … happens here, I …” He kissed you just below your ear, punctuating his words. “I want you to stay with me tonight. You can go and get new clothes or whatever you need tomorrow, but I…” He said your name again, then pressed his lips to your cheek. “Stay here with me.” 

You knew that hearing him say that was rare - that he knew what the implication of repeated nights spent together meant to most women. We’ve spent the last … and now he … Turning, you felt Jack’s hold on you loosen just enough to make the motion possible, your own arms going around his waist. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be, Jack.” It was the truth - you wanted nothing more than to wake up next to the man as often as you could, and you didn’t think that he would be overwhelmed by you giving him a real, honest answer. ”I’ll stay as long as…” “Don’t say that.” He smirked at you, clearing his throat. “Might try to keep you here permanently.” It was a nice thought, and even though you smiled at the words, you didn’t quite let yourself believe them. He’s going to have to go back to New York eventually, and I might not … I might not be a Statesman anymore soon. But almost as though Jack could see your thought process, he moved to distract you, the tips of his fingers snaking beneath the bottom of your shirt and beginning to tug it upward. “You’re wearin’ too much.” He bit down on his lower lip and you pulled away from him, straightening your arms enough so that he could pull the shirt over your head. “That’s better.” He didn’t let go of the material, lowering his hand to hold it by his side, and without asking permission, you used both hands to begin undoing the buttons of his shirt - starting at the bottom. 

As each was undone, you eased your hands up, the material parting to reveal his bare skin beneath it. You didn’t know what was making you move so slowly, but even that realization didn’t change your speed, and when you reached the final button you closed your eyes briefly before pushing the material back and over Jack’s shoulders, the man shrugging out of it and letting it - and your shirt - fall to the floor in the same motion. “Halfway there.” Your gaze flicked back up, meeting his, and you saw Jack staring at you with an intensity that you’d never seen before from anyone. “What?” 

“I want to do this right. I… we’ve waited so goddamn long, and …” He wet his lips, one of his hands moving back to settle against your hip - only his thumb sweeping over the bare skin above your waistband. “But I don’t know that I … can.” Blinking, you tilted your head to one side. Can’t what? “I’m barely holdin’ it together right now and we’re still on our feet, so -” “What’s right, Jack?” Digging your nails gently into the tops of his shoulders, you took a moment to gather your thoughts. “Easing into it? Going slow? Because I think that this is the slowest anyone’s ever gone, and I’m pretty sure that after what we just said to each other in the kitchen, there’s no wrong way to -” He laughed at that, pulling you tightly against his chest, and even though the reaction surprised you, you let him - turning your head so that you could press your cheek against against his skin, his heartbeat loud in your ears. Or is that mine? The man’s laugh died down and you felt his chest rising and falling, but in the seconds that followed, you were somewhat confused. What is he waiting for? Why isn’t he trying to… 

It hit you then - Jack wasn’t doing what he usually did, because the situation wasn’t typical. He’s … he’s trying to be … oh. Turning your head slowly, you pressed your lips to the man’s body, palms flattening against his sides. He inhaled sharply but didn’t say anything, waiting until you’d shifted your position, kissing another portion of his chest to lower his head, mouth finding the top of your shoulder. You hummed against his sternum, angling your head so that you didn’t get in his way, and Jack’s breath washed over your skin in a hot burst, followed by the gentle scrape of his teeth. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he mumbled - though you heard him clearly. “I will. I -” Never. 

But you nodded instead, registering one of the man’s hands slowly sliding up your back and landing on the band of your bra at the same moment he bit down against your skin - harder that time. Your lower body rocked against his, and you couldn’t help letting out a quiet gasp at the feeling of him through his jeans. Oh, shit, Jack. 

“Gonna take this off now, alright?” You nodded without speaking, and you felt the material at your chest loosen, Jack’s large hand swiping up the newly bare center of your back. Warmth followed where he touched you, and at the sensation you couldn’t take it anymore, pulling your mouth away from his body and saying his name, Jack straightening up, too. “What?” You heard the slight waver in his voice and took it as a sign, finally letting your fingers run through his hair to push it away from his face. 

“If you don’t kiss me right now, Jack Daniels, I don’t know what I -” The man didn’t let you finish, closing the distance between the two of you with one swift motion, and when his mouth was sealed over yours, you stopped thinking about anything that wasn’t him. The kiss quickly progressed - the man’s mouth opening, his tongue running along the seam of your lips. You opened your mouth without hesitation, welcoming him to deepen the kiss. He did just that - and as you shifted against him, one arm going around his neck and the fingers of the other hand digging into his hip, you felt the material of your bra shifting, too, the fabric sliding against your skin and his. 

“Take that thing off.” When he pulled back to breathe, you saw that the man’s eyes were nearly black, the pupils larger than you’d ever seen them. “Unless you want me to do it for you.” You had no idea if he’d used the same line on other women, but in the moment, you didn’t care - quickly shrugging the strap down one arm and then the other before letting it drop to the ground with both of your shirts. Jack closed his eyes almost as though he was fighting with himself, and when he spoke, his voice was strained. “Lemme look at you, let me -” “You don’t just have to look, Jack.” Feeling emboldened by the way he was reacting to you, you decided to take a chance. “You can touch, too.” You didn’t expect a tentative touch from the man - that wasn’t his style, but as soon as the words left your mouth, Jack moved, bringing his hands up to rest beneath your breasts, thumbs side by side between them. “Oh, fuck.” At his touch, your knees nearly buckled, and when Jack finally looked down, you watched his posture change, the man’s head lowering, too. He’s going to - he… The moment Jack’s lips made contact with the top swell of your newly bared flesh, you whimpered, the sound loud - but it only spurred him on, lips replaced with the warmth of his tongue as he licked at your skin. 

There was nothing you could do aside from bury your nose in his hair as he continued, mouth making its way down until he closed his lips around one nipple, the tip of his tongue flicking over the already sensitive area. This is exactly what I wanted. You ran your fingers through the hair on the back of his head, the edges of your other hand’s nails dragging over the center of his back, but Jack was focused on what he was doing, tongue replaced with teeth after only a few moments, the pressure sending a jolt of arousal straight into the pit of your stomach. 

Leaving a damp trail behind, he switched to the other side of your chest, and when you felt his thumb moving in a slow circle over the pebbled skin he’d just tasted, you sighed, the hold on his hair tightening. “Jack.” His name came out in a quiet whine, but at the sound he immediately straightened up, eyes back on you as his hold on your chest loosened. 

“What? I’m -” Don’t you dare apologize. “No.” You cut him off, taking a deep breath and then swallowing to steady yourself. “You’re fine, I just …” Fighting back a grin, you pressed your lips together. “You’re a lot, Jack Daniels, and I wasn’t … prepared.” The look in his eyes changed again, and before you could speak to reply he was pushing you toward the bed, eyes moving between your face and chest. 

“That was nothing, Agent.” You believed him - and also believed that you were about to find out just how true his statement was. Good. It’s about time. He didn’t say anything else, and you would have been lying if you’d tried to say that you didn’t like the way Jack was looking at you - gaze roaming over your upper body and face, the man’s tongue darting over his lower lip as he took in the sight of you. 

You’d wanted him to look at you that way for years, and now that he was, it didn’t seem real. But it is. We’re here, and he’s… he just said he loves me. That was something that the two of you would need to talk about more. It wasn’t that you’d wanted to gloss over it - that kind of admission wasn’t something to ignore. But he’d heard your reply - and it hadn’t sent him running, so you figured you had time. Not now. Now we’re… 

“Let’s get these jeans off.” Jack’s voice interrupted your thoughts, the man moving his hands to unbutton your pants, though he made no move to push them down. 

“Might be easier if I take them off myself, Jack. Same for you. I think we’re both a little -” He laughed but pulled his hands away, moving them to his own waist. You watched what he was doing, hands poised over the waistband of the denim you wore, and it wasn’t until the dark gray material of his underwear came into view that you moved again - easing your jeans down and over your hips without looking away. You’d seen him in various states of undress before - and as recently as the previous couple of days, but it was something entirely different to see him in only a pair of soft boxer briefs, the material clinging to his muscular thighs and toned waist and stretched taut over the prominent bulge at his front. This is really happening. 

“You’re gorgeous.” He spoke quietly, eyes back on your face. “I mean it.” He said your name again, reaching for you with one hand and you took it, letting him pull you away from the bed and closer to him. “I say a lot of things to a lot of people, but that?” He cocked his head to one side before shaking it back and forth slowly. “That’s somethin’ I mean.” 

“You’re not too bad yourself, Jack.” With your free hand, you trailed a finger down the center of his chest and toward his abdomen, feeling the way the muscles beneath it tightened when you stopped near his belly button. “Not at all.” But now’s where it gets weird. “I hate to be that girl, but … I know you haven’t been here in a while. Is… do you have condoms?” It was a loaded question - not because you didn’t think he’d expect it to be a concern, but because you figured he’d think it was a trap - that no matter how he answered, it would be the wrong response. “Because if not, we -” 

“I do.” He nodded. “Not because I thought that this was gonna happen, but because I always do. Might have gotten the implant like we all do as agents, but I’m still careful.” It was easier for you and the other female agents to brush off questions about using additional methods of protection during sex, since the Statesman implant wasn’t unlike the others on the market, but you realized that for Jack and Tequila and all of the other men on staff, it wouldn’t be as simple. Can’t explain having something like that without explaining what they do. “But, uh…” He cleared his throat, still staring at you. “I still get tested regularly, and the only person I’ve been with in the last couple months is Steph, and everything’s… clean.” Oh, you’re saying … He was giving you options, which you appreciated - and bringing up a potentially painful piece of information to let you make a decision. But he has no idea how I’m going to answer. 

“I haven’t … been with anyone in a long time, Jack. So you don’t have anything to worry about there.” You chewed on your lower lip, unable to meet his eyes. Because it sounds like I was waiting. And I wasn’t, but I … sort of was. It hadn’t been on purpose, but many of the men you’d dated in the past, you’d compared to Jack - in the smallest ways possible, and without even realizing it. But I don’t have to do that anymore. “I … think the implants are good enough. As long as that works for you?” 

He’d barely let you finish speaking before he was moving forward again, hands on your hips to push you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. “It works.” You sat, Jack bending at the waist and putting a hand on either side of your body while he nuzzled against your jaw. “As long as you’re sure.” Telling him that you were, you angled your head so that you had access to his mouth, arms once again going around his neck. As Jack kissed you, he eased you backward, the motion smooth and controlled. Before you knew it, you were laying down on the center of the bed, feet still on the floor and Jack hovering over you with his thigh between your legs and his hands on either side of your body. “I’m not done kissin’ you yet, though.” He winked as he dropped another kiss along your jawline, but you weren’t expecting the push of his thigh against your center, the man’s bare skin moving over the soaked material of your underwear. “I can feel that,” he murmured, still pressing his lips to your heated skin every few seconds. “Haven’t even touched you and -” “I wish you’d change that.” The words came out before you could stop them, but even though your eyes flew all the way open as you spoke - shocked at your lack of filter - it didn’t seem to faze him, Jack reacting without pause. Trailing a hand down your side, he flattened his palm against the top of your thigh and then squeezed, pressing his leg against you once more before he withdrew it, giving himself plenty of room for his fingers. 

He didn’t push them into you right away - or move the material to the side; instead, Jack kissed you on the mouth at the same time as he ran his knuckles downward over the dampened fabric, adding a little pressure when he brought them back up. Oh, fuck. Your hips jerked at the touch, rising off of the bed a few inches, and you could feel him smiling against your lips as he continued to tease you. But it wasn’t just you that was reacting to his touch - you felt his thighs tighten around your leg, the firm press of him along the top of your other leg. I can touch him, too. Sighing into his mouth, you moved your hand from the blanket, aiming for the opening of his underwear and the moment your fingertips parted the fabric, he slid a single finger into you. His hand froze when you made contact with his skin, but his hips didn’t - the man’s lower half jerking forward as you wrapped your fingers around him and squeezed, pulling him free through the slit in the cotton. “Fuck me sideways,” he breathed, resuming the movement of his hand, and then kissed you again - that one much messier, almost desperate. “Been waitin’ I don’t even know how long to feel your -” 

He closed his eyes at the sensation of you moving your hand up his length - thumb passing over the tip of him and circling slowly to spread the moisture that had gathered in a large bead there before moving it back down, tightening your hold at his base and then turning your wrist slightly before you started over. I’ve been waiting just as long. Your eyes closed as he picked up the pace of his finger, the occasional curl of it within you forcing your breaths out in short pants. 

“Gonna need another one, Jack. More” You reached up with your free hand, grasping his hair between your fingers and forcing him to look into your eyes. “Otherwise -” You saw the change in his expression at your direction, the rest of your words dying in your throat and your grip on him tightening for a moment. It didn’t surprise you that the man enjoyed hearing things like that, nor did it shock you when he did as you asked immediately - the insertion of another thick digit making all the difference. It’s still not the same, but it’s… closer. 

You touched each other for a few minutes, learning the way your bodies responded to the stimulation, and then Jack stood up suddenly, pulling himself from your hold and removing his fingers from you. What is - “I don’t wanna rush anything, but I need to -” His chest was nearly heaving as he stood over you, eyes locked on your face. “Need you to let me -” He fisted himself with the hand he’d been using on you and your eyes were drawn to the movement - his slick fingers lubricating every inch of himself as he waited. “Christ, Agent, I’ve never -” 

Deciding to put him out of his misery, you reached down, lifting your hips and pulling the last remaining piece of clothing you wore off, letting the material fall to the ground next to the bed. “I’m right here. Waiting, Jack.” You’d never spoken to anyone so boldly before in the bedroom, and your words surprised you a little. Your previous sex life hadn’t been bad, but it had been lacking something, especially after you’d realized you had feelings for Jack. Maybe this is what I was waiting for the whole time. The thought crossed your mind as he let go and then pulled off his underwear, baring his entire body to you for the first time, but you didn’t have too long to think about it as he stepped closer again, urging your legs further apart and stepping between them, his hands running up your thighs. 

He only looked away when he reached for a pillow, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. The man met your eyes again as he nodded with his chin, urging you to lift your lower half enough so that he could slide it beneath you, elevating your hips a few inches. “Keep your feet on the floor.” He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “If you can.” Who do you think you are? You - The thought was interrupted by the press of him against your entrance, the man once again wrapped in his own fingers as he bent over to find the right angle. 

Your feet were barely on the floor as it was - but when he pushed into you, pausing after the first initial thrust, you knew immediately that it wasn’t going to last. Not if I want him to go harder, not if - Jack moved again, his eyes on your face, but you realized that you wanted to see, and so you raised onto your elbows, staring down at the place where your bodies were joined to watch him disappear into you. Fuck. Fuck, it… he… You heard him groan, and when you glanced up, saw that his eyes were screwed shut, mouth hanging open. “Fucking finally.” Sighing as you collapsed onto your back again, your head lolled to the side as he began to move, hands gripping the meaty part of your thighs as he picked up the pace. 

Your feet lasted all of 30 seconds in his requested position, but it wasn’t your doing; instead, Jack urged your lower body off of the bed, straightening up as he did so. Every thrust hit a different spot inside you, and though he was large, it didn’t hurt, the man filling you in a way that you’d only dreamed about previously. Knees bent and pressed against his sides, you watched the expression on his face change - the corner of his lip curling up, his eyes closed but not squeezed shut. He was enjoying himself - and so were you, the feeling of him inside of you better than you’d imagined it to be, somehow more intimate even though you were barely touching each other, your eyes falling shut as he swiveled his hips before pushing all the way in again. But I want to touch him. 

You opened your eyes as you had the thought, watching him for a few more seconds and then reached up, fingers encircling one wrist. “J-Jack.” Though you had to force the word out, it wasn’t quiet, and he slowed down at the sound of it, hands still firmly in place. “I like this, but I …” Go for it. Tell him. “We should switch places.” Taking a deep breath, you watched as his gaze moved from your face to your chest and then back up. “You sit, and I’ll…” Wetting your lips, you pushed back up onto your elbows. “I’ll do the rest.” 

“Yeah?” When you nodded in reply, he withdrew from you with a groan, the sound audible even over your breathing, but Jack stepped back, gesturing with one hand. “Tell me where you want me.” 

Instead of telling him, you showed him, rising from the bed and turning him around so that his back to was to it, your hands on his shoulders urging him into a sitting position. “Knees at the edge, Jack.” Once he was seated, the man placed his hands at your waist, thumbs circling over the front of your hips. You hadn’t thought it through, but with a tilt of your head, you stepped even closer to the man, lifting one knee and then the other to straddle his lap, lowering yourself enough so that you could feel him between your legs. “This gonna work?” 

“This is gonna work just fine.” He whispered the words, leaning in so that he could take your earlobe between his teeth. You rocked your hips into him, humming at the feeling of him twitching against the inside of your thigh, and then you reached between the two of you, rising back onto your knees as you held him in position. 

When you lowered yourself onto him that time, you moaned, the angle allowing him a deeper reach, your control over the way you moved changing the way it felt. Rotating your hips counterclockwise, you watched his expression, trying to figure out exactly what he wanted, but Jack only stared at you with heavy-lidded eyes, arms wound around your lower back. He’s waiting for me to move. And so you moved, rising and sinking down onto him slowly at first and then increasing your speed as you got more comfortable. He met your movements with slight thrusts of his hips, but the man didn’t stop there, ducking his head down to kiss along the column of your throat and then the upper part of your chest. 

You kept one arm around his shoulders, hand pressed to the center of his back, and the other was tangled in his hair, your chin grazing the crown of his head. Time passed and you realized that your movements had slowed considerably - instead of raising and lowering your body, you were almost grinding against him, slowly moving your hips back and forth. But Jack didn’t seem to mind, the man still holding you close, though it was your lips pressed against his skin instead of the other way around, your mouth on his neck as he spoke quietly into your ear. “You feel goddamn incredible.” He groaned, fingers flexing against your back. “Could do this all night with you.” 

It was tempting - but you wanted more, wanted to know what he was capable of, what it felt like when he came inside you - wanted him to know how good he made you feel, and so you raised your head, blinking slowly as you met his eyes. “Make me come, Jack.” Though you spoke quietly, your tone was urgent, the need overwhelming you almost all at once. “I need to-” 

He shifted beneath you immediately, widening the spread of his legs and jerking his hips forward, the motion surprising you. Yes. Like that, like… You moved faster, too, your slow gyrations turning back into quicker thrusts, and then he removed a hand from your back, snaking it between your bodies. The moment he touched you, you cried out, the sound of his name loud in the quiet room, teeth digging into your lip as your head tilted backward. He knows what he’s doing, I’m not going to… His fingers rubbing in tight circles against you, you heard Jack say your name, your motion halting briefly while you focused on him. What do you … what… “I wanna feel you fall apart.” 

Exhaling, you mouthed his name silently, breaths quickening as you both continued to move.  Despite the fact that you tried your hardest, you couldn’t keep your eyes on him for longer than a few seconds, your head falling back against his shoulder as he urged you closer to the edge. You didn’t know who was leading who because your bodies were in sync with each other, but when Jack grunted softly into your ear, you held on tighter, his hand against your back pushing, too. 

Your orgasm snuck up on you with one final drag of his fingers against you, the pads of them pressing against the tender bundle of nerves just above where he was sliding into you. It took you by surprise, your mouth opening and then closing, teeth latching onto his shoulder as you came. Oh, my God. heart pounding in your chest, you focused as much as you could - muscles still contracting, the sensation almost dizzying in its intensity. But you were shocked to feel the muscles in Jack’s thighs tense, too, his movements picking up in speed to compensate for your decrease. Can he finish like this? Is there enough - 

With a gasp, you released his skin, but before you could lift your head, the hand that had been between your bodies was pressed against the back of your head, urging you to keep it down. Oh, he liked that. Body still buzzing from your climax, you bit at his shoulder again, the man grunting in response. Keeping your body flush against his, he scooted closer to the edge of the bed to give himself more leverage and then leaned back, pulling you down with him. 

You were still on your knees, but you widened the spread of them once he was on his back, Jack’s hips moving faster as he found a new rhythm, your mouth still working over the skin of his shoulder and chest. He let go of your head and moved both hands to your curves, guiding you along with his movements. Like you just had, he came with little warning, your only clue the way he sucked in a breath and then let it out, hips stuttering before he emptied himself into you with a series of quick, shallow thrusts. Jack’s grip on you loosened, though he didn’t let go, fingers digging in to keep you close. 

He stopped moving, the man’s body relaxing beneath yours, and you let yourself go limp, too, cheek pressed to his chest. Instead of urging you to climb off of him, Jack wrapped his arms around you again, urging you to stay where you were. When you opened your eyes, you realized that your mouth was just to the side of the scar on his chest. The one he got because of me. Before you lifted your head, you turned it further, lips finding the mark and lingering there. It shouldn’t have come to this. It shouldn’t have taken this long. 

He stroked one hand down your back, the movement almost lazy, and when you finally did sit up, carefully shifting off of him, you quickly stood, glancing down and then back up after assessing the state of your thighs. “Need to clean up, Jack. We made a mess and -” He nodded once, and even in the shadowy light, you saw a few marks on his skin - evidence of your teeth. Oops. “I’ll be right back.” 

Crossing the room, you closed the bathroom door behind you and turned the water on before flipping the light switch, eyeing yourself in the mirror. You didn’t look any different, but you felt like something had changed. Your feelings were no longer conflicted or hidden, and Jack felt the same. He loves me. He… we just … it… Unable to process a complete thought, you did what you needed to do, washing your hands before re-entering the bedroom, Jack sitting on the edge of the bed again with his shirt over his lap. “You good?” He wet his lips as he turned his attention to you. “My turn?” “Yep.” Suddenly self conscious about the fact that you were entirely naked in front of him, you turned to the side, gesturing toward the door. “ All yours, I’ll -” 

“You don’t needta get dressed.” He spoke as he stood, letting the shirt fall to the floor. “Unless you want to, and there’s some -” He stopped in front of you, reaching over and settling his hand on your hip, your name little more than a whisper as he spoke it. “You gonna stay?” What? Why wouldn’t I? There wasn’t hesitation in his eyes, but you saw uncertainty. Is it because he asked me to stay? Or because he thinks I’ll still leave? 

“Bed’s pretty big, Jack.” You gestured with your chin. “Wouldn’t want you to have to sleep in it alone.” The smile you got at that was radiant, the expression lighting up the man’s face. “I’ll be there when you come back out.” Kissing your cheek before he continued into the bathroom, Jack’s hand only left your body when it had to, the door closing softly behind him. 

After a quick assessment - choosing the side of the bed that the alarm clock wasn’t on, you crawled between the blanket and sheets, stretching out and closing your eyes as you yawned. It’s been a long fucking day. It had been - for both of you - and even though you wanted to stay awake, enjoying Jack’s company for as long as possible, you knew that it was unlikely. Very unlikely, you admitted as you covered your mouth to stifle another yawn. And if I’m tired, he has to be exhausted. 

When the door opened a few minutes later, you forced your eyes open to watch Jack cross the room, the confident swing of his hips no less prevalent than it usually was. But he faltered when he saw you, his eyes going wide, the fingers on his left hand curling into a loose fist. What’s that about? Recovering quickly, the man turned the lights off and then climbed into bed with you, immediately turning onto his side and crossing an arm over your body, pulling you as close as he could. “D’you know how long I’ve wanted to see you in my bed?” He spoke with his lips against your cheek, the man’s stubble rasping over your skin. “Been a real long time.” 

“Yeah?” He nodded, and even though you couldn’t see him well in the dark, you knew that he was smiling - as were you. “I like it here, Jack. And I’m sorry it couldn’t have been this way sooner.” He kissed you then, the press of his lips against yours soft. 

“It’s this way now.” 

—

[jstxnes]

Part two of always been us please! <3

Ahh!! Yes!! got too excited writing this so this is part 2 out of 3 ❤️

Always Been Us - John Stones

[part 1]

{part 2}

A ring sounds out within your apartment as you get up and answer and hear John on the other end. You smile as you buzz him in. It was only the second time seeing him but you were nervous as anything for some reason and you didn’t know why.

“Come in..” You smile as you open the door to let him in.

“Hi..” he smiles as he kisses your cheek gently, placing the bottle of Prosecco he’d bought on the counter top. “Nice place.” He grins as he looks around. You close the door and go to the kitchen, getting 2 glasses out as John opens the Prosecco and pours it both glasses.

“I can’t believe how long it’s been since we last saw each other.” You shake your head and take a sip.

“I know, training has been absolutely kicking my ass.” He shakes his head as you sit down. “Got a couple of days off now so you’ll be seeing my face more…if you want to.” He says rather shyly as you nod. “I won’t complain with that.

You grab the control as you stick Netflix on, flicking through the movies. “What you fancy?” You asked as you clicked through them. “What if I said…you?” His eyes on you as you raise your eyebrows. “You being funny?” You let out a giggle as he watches you for a moment before shaking his head. “I try to be, but not this time..” He says, taking your drink from your hand as he puts them on the table. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you..” He says honestly, his eyes staying on yours.

“John…” You bite your lip. This is what you wanted. You wanted a distraction and he was willing to give that to you.

“Shhh…” He whispers, his lips finding yours as you close your eyes, both of your lips working perfectly in sync. You feel his hands wandering to your sides as he pulls you onto his lap, lips not parting. It was almost like you were both desperate for each other. You hardly knew him, all you knew is that he played for a massive football club but your friend knew him, so he couldn’t be that bad.

John pulls away for a moment, both of you catching your breath. “I didn’t say stop..” You mumble, biting you lip as you look down at him, a small grin on his face as his lips find yours again and your fingers find his curls.

You both lie on the sofa, only a blanket covering you both. You open your eyes, you both must’ve fallen asleep right after. You look around, seeing the time. 3.20am. You should definitely be getting back to sleep, especially with work in the morning. You look down at the sleeping man beside you. He was actual perfection.

“John…” You whisper, pulling his shirt on. He stirs slightly before squinting as he opened his eyes. “Come to bed..” You whisper, passing him his boxers as you get up and wander into your room, getting to bed as you wait for him.

He appears a couple of seconds later, sleepily getting into the bed beside you. He was a man of few words when he was tired, that you had worked out. Closing your eyes, you fall back to sleep, feeling him cuddle up to you.

You hear the sound of a faint alarm waking you up. Groaning, you only hear it growing louder the more you wake up and notice it’s your phone alarm. “Shut up.” You mutter, reaching for it to shut it off. You were going to be late for work but you didn’t care, you had a beautiful man sleeping beside you. Turning round, your smile soon fades as an empty space appears.

Or not.

Frowning, you look around. “John?” You call out. You were still wearing his shirt, surely he hadn’t left without a shirt on. You get up, checking the bathroom and kitchen. He was no where to be seen. He hadn’t even left a note.

The man had literally told you less than 12 hours ago he fancied you and you wake up to a quiet apartment again after sleeping with him. You couldn’t wrap your head around it, you didn’t know if you were more upset or angry.

You slump down onto the sofa and sigh, scrolling through your phone. Nothing. Was it even worth texting him? What was even the point? You should’ve known he was like every other guy out there.

You get dressed and grab your bag and keys, walking out of your apartment. Breakfast fixes everything and that’s exactly where you were heading. Your head is still down as you look into your bag, making sure you have everything as you bump into someone. “Sorry, I’m-“ You look up and almost let out a laugh. Was he serious?

“I really don’t have time.” You shove past him, hearing him sigh. “Y/N, wait.” John shakes his head and catches up to you, coffees in hand. “I.-“ He tries again. “Save it. Please John? Just save it. You’ve made it perfectly clear of your intentions so do us both a favour and go find the next girl you want to sleep with and then just fuck off.” You mutter, not even looking at him.

You liked him. You didn’t want to, but you did and maybe that’s why you were so angry. You just wanted a distraction, he gave you that. So why did it feel like he was ripping your heart out with his single hand already?

“Will you just listen to me?” His voice is now raised and it stops you in your tracks. Turning on your heels, you raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to carry on. He hands you a coffee, reluctantly you take it.

“I didn’t want to do this here but, whatever. Fine.” John sighs, taking a sip of his drink. “I’m not looking for…” He sighs, running his fingers through his curls. “I’m not looking for a relationship. I don’t want one, I don’t need one so I thought it was best I’d just leave. I was going to text you later but then once I thought about it..” His fingers play with the stubble on his face.

“You felt like a twat?” You cut in, rolling your eyes.

“…I felt like a dick.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I was coming back, with these to explain that and to say I’m sorry.” He frowns.

You stand there, watching him for a moment. He was too pretty and it pissed you off that you actually wanted to say it was okay. Of course it was okay, you weren’t looking for that either. “All I wanted was to see you there in the morning.” You breathe out, biting down on your bottom lip. “Let’s be honest, you’re too…you know for me to just let go..” A small smile plays on your lips.

“I’m too what?” He asks, placing his coffee cup down on a half raised wall and raises his eyebrows. “I’m too what?” John asks again, his eyes on yours.

Why was he doing this and how was he doing this? He just had some hold over you and it was driving you insane. You literally wanted to punch him a minute ago and now? Well…

“Let me show you..” You whisper, taking his hand as you take him back up to your apartment. “As long as you ain’t gonna do a runner on me again..” You mumble, opening your door, feeling him push you inside gently as he closes the door behind you both. “I’ve learnt..” John whispers, his lips finding yours once again. That familiar feeling of them from the night before, sending electricity through your body. His hands pull you closer to him as they trail against your clothed back.

“Wait..” You pull away a moment and bite your lip as you watch him, drinking him in. His eyes were on yours, his lips were more swollen than usual, thanks to you and his curls were already messed up. You didn’t want a relationship but you wanted him. “It’s quite obvious…you want me..” You smirk slightly as you watch him, a small smile playing on his lips. “And I mean, it’s…quite obvious I want you..” Your eyes trail up and down him as you play with the hem of his shirt. “So how about no relationship, just this?” You whisper.

He doesn’t say anything for a minute as he watches you. “That is something…I can’t say no to.” John glances down, watching you play with the hem of his shirt. He was wanting you so badly to just take it off, just as badly as you wanted to. He was sure of it.

“Friends with benefits it is…” You mumble, not taking a second longer to find his lips with yours again, this time pulling his shirt off and throwing it somewhere as he leads you back to the same sofa as before, it was the closest thing and neither of you could wait.

John pushes you gently down onto it,his shirtless body hovering over you, his arm tattoos and the one just under his pec exposed, you couldn’t take your eyes off them. “Who said anything about being friends?” He whispers, trying to not chuckle as you tap him gently. “You aren’t funny.” You mutter, pulling him down against you.

“Mmm…” He pulls away from your lips slightly, his eyes not leaving yours. “But I am good.” John smirks, his lips trailing to your neck.

He wasn’t wrong.

[spencerspecifics]

HI HI HI PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE MOREID AT PRIDE AND SOME PINING AND SPENCER THINKS DEREK IS STRAIGHT BUT HE ISN'T AND THEY KIIIITTTTTHHHHH

I absolutely love your energy fuck yes!! I’m so sorry this took forever, ive got school, work and some other personal things happening so I appreciate your patience!

No TW, B u t, a creep hits on Spencer at pride, so if that is upsetting please note that! Thanks :)

———————————————————————

Pride

———————————————————————

Garcia had been pestering Spencer about going to pride for the past week now, and it was slowly driving him insane.

He used almost every excuse he could think of. When he first turned her down, he had simply said, “Sorry, I’m going to be busy that week.” And of course, Garcia being Garcia, she stole his calendar to see what he was busy with (spoiler alert: he had nothing. Except a reminder to go grocery shopping, and email some professors and research scientists back).

So, she persisted, and he came up with a dozen more excuses; “I was considering flying out to see my mom”, “The local museum has a new interactive archeology exhibit for adults, and I want to learn more about ancient structures”, “I have to do a presentation on thermodynamics”.

None of those excuses work, as she sniffed out every lie, “Spencer, you hate flying to Vegas last minute, that archaeology exhibit has been open for months, and your calendar is empty!”

So with her persistence, and legitimate bullying, Spencer found himself finally agreeing. “Fine, but come over to my apartment before we leave so you can help me.” After all, he wasn’t really familiar with pride parades, and what the scene was like there. He was going to be a fish out of water, he already knew that for certain.

~

True to her word, Garcia showed up an hour before the pride parade was set to start, carrying a coffee in each hand- how she possibly knocked on his apartment door, Spencer didn’t know.

“I brought you a pick me up, that way you have no excuse to be in a bad mood!” She spoke in her signature sing song voice as Spencer let her inside, she barreled in like a hurricane. God, Spencer wasn’t ready for this.

“Thanks..” Spencer decided to reply with that lame response, and not with what he was actually thinking. He took the coffee from her wordlessly as she stepped in further, going to sit down on his couch.

“You excited?” Garcia asked as she set her cup down on his cluttered coffee table. Reid just shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t do great with crowds.”

“But you do great with disarming murderers?” “You know that’s different-” Spencer said, doing his best to argue, “Reid it is literally not. Both are anxiety inducing, but one is life or death, and it’s not pride. So you can do this.”

Spencer sighed, resigning himself to not arguing with Garcia. Because she was right, though at times her arguments sounded wild. He just had to get over this anxiety and show up at pride, he could do this, right?

~

Wrong. So, very, wrong. They had left his apartment with thirty minutes to spare, deciding to walk over to where pride was being held- as it was only a few blocks away in a public park.

And as soon as they got there, Spencer wanted out. There were so many people, more than he estimated (and his estimations were usually spot on.), and there was just chaos everywhere. Music, dancing, shouting, singing, drag queens running around happily. Spencer wasn’t sure what to do. He was out of his element.

Garcia seemed to sense that, though, as she dragged Spencer over to some stalls that sold pride flags, pins, and other miscellaneous pride related things.

“C’mon Reid, why don’t you look around and find something you like?” She offered up, something for him to do- something for him to stay busy with. He could do that. Spencer nodded simply, Garcia stayed by his side- looking at pride related wear for herself.

~

Spencer ended up deciding on a small pin that simply said; “love all”, planning to stick it on his messenger bag strap. Garcia bought a pin as well, but hers just had her pronouns on them; “she/her/hers”.

Looking at all the pride apparel was a good distraction for Spencer, he felt a lot more calmer now- though that didn’t stop him from feeling like he stuck out like a sore thumb. He’s just not familiar with this world, and it’s awkward to suddenly be in the middle of it.

Spencer was in the middle of looking at another booth that sold flags, possibly considering buying himself a small one to stick in his pencil cup at work, because Garcia left him to go compliment a drag queen- when a voice broke through.

“Hey, pretty boy!”

That was a voice all too familiar, what on earth was Morgan doing here? Spencer looked up at him as he made his way towards him. “Hey,” Spencer spoke awkwardly. Not sure what to say.

Spencer was gay. He was fine with admitting he was gay, but he hadn’t really told the team. He thought they figured it out on their own. And they probably had, but still, having his coworker see him at a pride event- it was anxiety inducing.

“What’re- what’re you doing here?” Spencer asked, stumbling over his words as he dropped the small flag he was holding back onto the vendors table.

“Oh, well I’m on the local PFLAG committee. I’m just here to hand out flyers and stuff. But I’m glad to see you’re here, I’m guessing Garcia’s here too?” He asked Spencer casually, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Spencer.

He was on the PFLAG committee? Why? To help queer people, obviously, but that had to mean he was gay or something- Spencer couldn’t stop his mind from coming up with every possible answer to why Derek was on the committee.

Spencer just nodded in response, he moved himself back from the vendors table to get out of the way, so other customers could look at the flags being sold.

“Yeah, she’s- there.” Reid pointed her out, as if on cue she came out of the thick crowd that had started to gather back up, the parade portion of pride had concluded by now, and people were coming over to the vendors section.

“Hey, Babygirl!” Derek called over to her, and Garcia somehow lit up with a smile brighter than the one she was wearing before, “Well, hey!” She responded enthusiastically, walking up swiftly to give Derek a quick embrace, which he happily returned.

“I wasn’t sure how long you were staying for, but I’m glad I caught you!” Garcia started rambling to Derek, about how the drag queen she met was so nice; “Her name was Mysteria Hysteria. Isn’t that genius?”.

~

Spencer just stepped back from them both, not sure what to do, not sure if he fully belonged. Pride was a nice event, it was. But the longer he stood around, the more he felt like he should be leaving. Everyone was laughing and smiling, everyone was just happy. And Spencer couldn’t stop racking his brain. In the beginning, he couldn’t stop thinking because of his anxiety, but now he was searching his brain for a reason why Derek was here and what it meant.

Of course, a stupid large portion of Spencer’s mind went to “maybe Morgan likes men”, and then an even larger and stupider portion of his mind had the absurdity to think; “maybe he’s interested in me”. Which Spencer did not even want to remotely entertain, because if he fell down that rabbit hole, he’d never climb back out.

Because yes, he did like Derek. He liked him a lot, the start for his liking towards the man was innocuous enough- which is why it was a problem for Spencer. He didn’t realized he liked Morgan until it was too late. And now he had been battling these feelings for years. Spencer wasn’t ever going to act on them, he just had to live with them- which he had been doing, which he has been content with. But this new information, about Morgan being here, being part of PFLAG- it was going to make Reid’s mind implode in on itself.

~

Reid decided the best thing was to say; “I’m gonna get some water, I’ll be back.” To which Derek and Garcia both nodded to, and Spencer was off, away from the vendors stand and the only two people he knew at pride.

And while that was a good thing, it was simultaneously not so good. Because now he was alone, overwhelmed, and thinking too much. And now he had a task to do, find himself some water.

~

That task seemed to be more difficult than anticipated, as the prides layout was a confusing maze, spencer had to pass in front of a group of drag queens in order to get to the food trucks that were on site- but he eventually got there.

He walked up to the first food truck he saw, it didn’t matter what they sold, he wasn’t getting it.

“What can I get for you?” The cashier asked him, “Just a water, please.” He ordered, the cashier nodded and pulled a bottle out from a cooler that was nearby within the truck, handing it over to spencer as they told him his total, a dollar twenty five. Spencer paid quickly, stepping back and away from the food truck, as he wasn’t sure where else to go now. He didn’t want to go back towards Derek or Garcia, he honestly wanted to go home.

He just needed a minute, some space and time to breathe and relax. He was stressing himself out. And about what? Nothing of goddamn importance, just a stupid crush he had been living with for a while now.

~

Spencer had been leaning against the back the food truck for not long, only a couple of minutes as he was absorbed in thought as he fiddled with the cap on the water bottle.

He was doing his best to follow the grounding techniques he had learned, something to help him calm down, when suddenly- a stranger emerged out of the crowd.

“Hey there, handsome.” The man said confidently as he strode up to introduce himself Spencer. Spencer looked up to meet his eyes, the man in question was a fine looking guy, chiseled jawline, long shoulder length hair, a bit of facial stubble. He was handsome. “Hello,” Spencer answered hollowly in response. In an ordinary situation, he would try and seem more lively- but he wasn’t in a normal situation, not at all.

The anxiety of attending pride was stress enough on its own, but now knowing the guy he had been drooling over for years was here- and worked as a PFLAG volunteer? It was enough to make him lose his mind.

The man didn’t seem to notice Spencer’s empty response, however, as he answered suavely in response; “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the way. I’m Fabian,” Thankfully, the man- Fabian, didn’t stick his hand out for a handshake, instead casually pushing his hair back a bit.

“I’m Spencer,” Reid replied simply, knowing it was best to ride this odd social interaction out, rather than try and fight it. “That’s a lovely name,” Fabian complimented, “Is this your first time at pride, Spencer?” He asked him casually, taking a step forward, closer to Spencer. He was all too confident for Spencer, he too comfortable with invading Spencer’s space. If Spencer could’ve, he would’ve stepped back.

“Uh, yeah. My friend dragged me along.” Reid explained, twisting the bottle cap back onto his half empty water bottle. Fabian nodded, “Your boyfriend didn’t take you?” Fabian asked him. That was a leading question, Spencer had alarm bells ringing in his head the second he heard it. “No. He- um- he met up with us here.” Spencer replied unconvincingly, Fabian obviously did not believe a word he said.

“Well,” Fabian took another step forward, practically blocking Reid in against the back of the food truck, leaning in farther to whisper in Spencer’s ear; “I don’t see him around. So, why don’t you and I get out of here? Hm?”

Spencer wasn’t sure of what to do. He wanted to kick this guy in the crotch and just book it, but he wasn’t sure if his FBI status would protect him in this scenario. He wasn’t sure what could protect him in this scenario.

“Pretty boy! There you are!” A saving grace broke through, and suddenly Fabian was stepping back, and Morgan was walking up.

Thank god, thank fucking god, that’s all Spencer could manage to think as Derek came to stand beside him. “Hey, babe.” Spencer said, cringing at his voice, at what he just said. But that feeling only lasted for a moment as Fabian was still standing right there, staring them both down now.

Spencer could only throw his wish in the sky and hope Derek caught it coming down, ‘please catch along to why I’m calling you babe’ Reid was trying to say.

And Derek caught it, “Hey, baby, was worried about you. Who’s your friend?” He said in his smooth voice, a voice Spencer couldn’t forget. He especially couldn’t forget now, being called ‘baby’ was something Spencer especially could not forget.

“I’m Fabian, you’re Spencer’s boyfriend?” Fabian asked, as if them both calling each other ‘babe’ counted for nothing. “Yeah, I’m Derek.” Morgan responded simply, sliding his hand around Spencer’s waist as if to prove a point. Fabian just nodded, looking between Spencer and Derek one last time before talking; “Well, it was nice to meet you, I’ve gotta get going. See you.”

And then, he was off, fast walking away from Derek and Reid, escaping the terrible situation he had created. Fabian quickly disappeared into the thick crowd, and by then Spencer had his hand squeezing his water bottle all too tightly- as evident by the terrible crunch sound it made. He was too anxious to let go.

“Hey, are you okay?” Derek asked him softly, pulling his hand away from Spencer’s waist. “Can we find somewhere else- can we go sit down?” Spencer asked him quickly. Reid didn’t want to talk about it right this second, right where it had happened. He wanted to leave, he wanted to leave pride and never come back.

~

Derek didn’t ask a single follow up question as he led Reid away from the food trucks, taking him back towards the vendors stands, and then a bit further back, into the normal-not-so-pride-parade-filled park area. Somewhere less stressful, less scary.

“What did that guy want?” Derek asked Spencer casually as they made their way towards a bench that was sat under a large oak tree. Spencer didn’t speak right away, instead he waited until they were seated to start talking.

“He was trying to flirt, but then he wanted me to leave with him.” Spencer explained as he took a deep breath in, just being away from all the loud sounds and sights was helping him calm down. Derek rubbed Spencer’s back in slow, circular motions as Spencer kept talking.

“He was a classic example of a narcissistic personality, it just made me so uncomfortable- he invaded my space.”

“He was a creep, Reid. Simple as that,” Derek kept rubbing Spencer’s back slowly, Spencer nodded. “I know. Sorry, it shook me up.” Spencer attempted to apologized, and Derek was immediately having none of that.

“Reid, no. Don’t apologize for that, don’t you dare. He was a creep, I’m sorry you got caught up with him. It’s okay if you’re shaken up. We can stay here until you feel up to going back, or we can leave. But I’m not leaving you.”

~

And so they sat for a good amount of time on that park bench, at one point Derek stopped rubbing Spencer’s back, instead just keeping his arm stretched out against the back of the bench and against Spencer’s back. Spencer loved it, but he knew if he thought about it for too long he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking. That was his biggest problem, he couldn’t stop thinking.

He had to know, he decided, he couldn’t just wonder why Derek was on the committee for PFLAG. He wanted to know, he had to.

“Derek?” He spoke up softly, sounds of laughing and shouting and music were still heard in the distance, but they were safe from the sounds under the tree. “Mhm?” Derek hummed in response, looking up at the aforementioned tree that was providing shade for them.

His eyes were tracing the way the branches curved and bent around each other, it was something he did to pass the time. Spencer thought he was extraordinary for it, Derek loved to see where things went; he was curious- after all these years, and all the bad they had seen together, Derek still loved to search and find the beauty.

“Why are you on the PFLAG committee ?” Spencer asked him, it was thankfully an innocuous enough ask to not draw too much of Derek profilings side out to pry apart his question. Derek shrugged, and was quiet for a second before responding, “I know what it’s like to be a scared kid, unsure of his identity. If I can help someone through that, that’s all that matters. Same reason I’m in the BAU, to help people.”

Spencer stayed quiet, Derek’s reason was so sincere and so sweet and kind- and only driving him to think further. Was Derek still unsure of his identity? Was he an ally? Why did he have to make Spencer swoon so hard without even trying?

“So, you’re just an ally?” Spencer approached Derek carefully with that question, not wanting to impose or be rude- but just feign simple curiosity, praying Derek wasn’t using his profiling skills right now to decode Spencer’s fake motive.

Derek didn’t notice, thankfully, as he chuckled lowly in response; “No, pretty boy, I’m bisexual. I don’t really tell the team, but it’s not confidential information. Plus, Garcia found Grindr on my phone. Can’t hide anything from that girl.”

Spencer nodded, mumbling something in response about how Garcia had hacked his email to make sure he was free for pride. And then, the two fell into silence again. But it didn’t last for long, because Derek wanted to know just as much, why was Spencer here?

“What about you, Reid?” Derek asked him cautiously, the way you approach a puppy you find on the side of the road. Calm and slow, trying to get him to trust him bit by bit. “What about me?” Spencer asked, not wanting to answer anything about himself unless Derek was specific.

“Are you an ally?” Morgan asked him, leaving the question open ended. Spencer could say as little or as much as he wanted. This is how you get him to open up, Derek knew that for a fact. “Um.. yeah, I mean- who isn’t? I just- I have to be. I’m.. gay.” Spencer admitted all too awkwardly, not at all in a normal fashion. But nothing about Spencer was in normal fashion.

Derek nodded slowly, not responding as he stared back up, tracing his eyes over the tree branches yet again.

~

A few hours had passed, Spencer and Derek eventually left their peaceful bench under the large oak tree, and instead moved back towards the parking lot.

“Garcia’s got a ride home already- I think she got that drag queen to get her home.” Derek explained as they approached his truck, Spencer nodded as he followed Derek. “Anyways,” Derek continued speaking, “I can give you a ride home. Let’s get going.”

“You don’t have to-“ Spencer started, Derek immediately shut him down. “I want to, c’mon. It’s late, you’re tired. I know you are. Let me take you home.” Spencer just nodded in agreement, he couldn’t argue with Derek, even if he did try. Morgan was a stubborn man.

So, Spencer followed Derek into his truck, and they sat in comfortable silence as they started on their journey back to Spencer’s safe space, his apartment.

~

By the time Derek pulled his truck into the apartments parking lot, Spencer knew something was just the slightest bit wrong. Derek had barely spoken for the entire ride, and usually he loves to say something, to make Spencer smile or laugh, or even just nod and mumble in agreement. But he had done none of that on the way to Spencers.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, turning to face Derek as he put the vehicle in park. Derek didn’t meet his eyes, staring at the steering wheel instead as he spoke; “Yeah. Sorry. I’m just thinking.”

“About what?” Spencer pried, absentmindedly unbuckling his seatbelt as he spoke, “About today.” Derek said, not explaining further. “Was today bad?”

Derek shook his head, “No. It started weird, it’s ending pretty good, though. But I’m gonna regret today forever if I don’t do something right now.”

Now, Spencer was confused. Not sure at all what Derek could be talking about, “What do you mean?” He asked, voice quieter than before.

Derek said nothing as he unbuckled his own seatbelt, turning to face Spencer as well, and then he leaned in- closer than they had ever been before. Their noses were almost touching, and Spencer didn’t move. Instead, he watched Derek’s eyes expectantly.

Then, Derek broke through, they were no longer intersecting each other’s personal space- now they were fully destroying each other’s atmospheres. Derek’s lips were on Spencer’s, a chaste, soft, quick kiss- something Spencer would have wanted to go for a lot longer. But then, he pulled away just as fast.

“...That’s what I meant..” He mumbled after a second, looking back towards the steering wheel, looking away from Spencer- and more importantly, not seeing the smile on Spencer’s face.

Spencer couldn’t help it. He knew it was terrible to be smiling right now- he should jump and say something to fix what was happening. But he had to smile, he couldn’t believe that had actually just happened, his brain was still computing and re-circuiting, trying to savor the memory and not forget how Derek’s lips felt against his.

Spencer dragged himself out of his own head quickly, though. He did all he could think of to do in the moment, get Derek back. “Morgan.” Spencer said, tugging on Derek’s sleeve as he did so, forcing him to look back at Spencer and meet his eyes again.

But Spencer didn’t say anything, and he didn’t give Derek the chance to speak, either. Instead, he leant forward, pressing his lips against Derek’s. This is all he had wanted to know for the longest time, and now he had it.

~

Maybe pride wasn’t so bad after all, you just have to be with the right people for it to work out.

———————————————————————

[thiserichann]

cookies and cream - lee jeno

reader x jeno

genre: smut, strangers to fuck buddies, humor if you squint hard enough

word count: 4k-ish

warnings: recklessness (she met with a stranger online, don’t do it kids) excessive lying, 18+ scenes that includes: oral (f receiving) face riding, soft dom!jeno?

This is merely a work of fiction and is not meant to hurt the image of Jeno and NCT. Again, don’t be as reckless as OP. This was just a fantasy of mine that I’ve been dying to get out of my system.

Holy fuck.

That's the only word that you've managed to utter when you decided to check your messages that morning.

You got bored in the middle of the class and decided to sneak a peek on your phone to pass the time. The class is recorded anyways so you can always just go back to the parts of the lessons that you've missed.

But holy fuck.

You never expected to see THAT so early in the morning.

"Miss Y/N?"

You snapped back to reality and stopped malfunctioning for a second when somebody called your name. Everyone including your professor remained quiet and all eyes are on you.

"Oh. Sir what’s the question again?"

You answered nervously as you tried to review your notes and backtrack on what he is discussing a few moments ago.

"I see that you're distracted in the middle of my class again. Mind sharing what you're occupied with?"

"Uhm. I was watching KPOP fancams, sir."

"Fancams won't get you into law school, Miss Y/N. Phones off please."

You tucked your phone back to your pocket and never picked it up again since. The professor started blabbering again but no information is being retained on your head. It stayed that way at your other classes.

You wished you were looking at some KPOP fancams earlier. You’ve watched fancams at class before and got away with it unscathed.

Oh no. It was a goddamn dick pic.

A good one, too.

It was from a guy that you met in a kink site a few days ago. You created the account out of boredom and expected nothing to come out from it. It’s all the flirting and sexting without all the unnecessary commitment

It only took you a few minutes to set up an account. For some privacy, you made a random birthdate and a random nickname, because like hell would you share your real information to these people. You also picked a racy picture of a lady that looked a bit like you and passed it off as your own.

Within minutes, your inbox is flooded with messages. Most of them, however, are from men who are old enough to be your father.

Well, you were bored, so you entertained everyone and then went on back to your boring, vanilla life. A few political history and theory books later, you went back to see which ones messaged you on the site.

And that's where you've met him.

The most gorgeous piece of meat alive.

He seems like a nice guy. He introduced himself as LJ and your age aren’t that far off from each other. LJ is the only one who actually engaged in conversation besides "want to fuck?" or "are you horny?"

As soon as you started messaging back and forth, you scrolled on his profile to see what he looks like. The only thing is, his profile looked a whole lot like those high fashion male underwear photoshoots.

It was an array topless pictures (presumably his, you just can’t be bothered to check if it is actually his). It featured his sculpted abs and biceps, cropped up all the way to his full lips. Despite not seeing his whole face, you knew very well that he’s a hunk. To say you were intrigued is an understatement.

Since then, you've been talking back and forth through Snapchat (your secret one because you're not stupid) and sent him actual pictures of yourself, completely omitting the face. You took one from your bed, your bathtub, and probably every part of your house that you felt is sexy enough to be included on the pics.

You can't tell him if it's him or the repressed sexual urges finally manifesting itself after more than a year of not getting laid, but every text to and from him made your heart race. It was something that you looked forward to every hour everyday.

Hours went by that you totally forgot leaving him on read. You climbed up to your bed to rest your back to the headboard and opened your unread messages.

You: Hey svlr. School stuff.

  He opened the chat and started typing right away.

  LJ: Oh good. I thought I did something wrong to upset you.

You: Not at all. I loved the pic by the way. It literally knocked my socks off.

LJ: Just the socks?

You: You can take the rest of it off yourself ;)

You scoffed. The flirty banter has always been there ever since you started talking but nothing really came out of it.

LJ: If only I could :(

You: I know. Covid’s a bitch.

You set your phone aside for a second to go to the bathroom. On your way, you picked up some snacks at the fridge and sat back down to your bed, only to find your phone blowing up.

LJ: If you're down maybe we could meet

LJ: It's totally fine if you don't want to

LJ: I just made it weird, didn't I?

LJ: I'm so sorry I brought it up in the first place

LJ: I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable

LJ: Hello?

LJ: I'm really sorry

You: Chill. I'm right here

You: I just went to the bathroom

LJ: Oh

You: I'd be lying if I said I don't want to meet you as well

You: Well... I wouldn't write off the idea

You: But with the Covid

LJ: Thoughts?

You: I don't think it's a great idea

The screen says Seen right at the bottom but it took him a couple more minutes before finally replying.

LJ: I understand

LJ: But in case you change your mind, I'll leave the time and place up to you

LJ: I’ll take care of the rest

LJ: Deal?

You: I'll sleep on it.

You: Speaking of sleep, I gotta go. Morning class.

LJ: Okay. I guess this is good night then

You didn't, in fact, talk to him the day after.

You'd be lying if you said that you didn't want to see him and his abs in real life. But as someone who overthinks a lot, you just can't shake off the risk.

You: Good night. Talk to you tomorrow.

What if he's not really the guy in the pics? Or he’s psycho in real life? What if he's infected the virus?

You sighed.

Why must some global pandemic ruin your sex life?

You waited until the end of the day before you finally replied to LJ. The last thing that he texted was a brief good morning from earlier in the day and nothing else. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy, totally not worth ghosting, and you actually liked talking to him as a friend that you can share your sentiments with.

With your guilt finally eating you up, you took a break from your assigned readings and sat back at your bed to rest for the day. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a minute, thinking of something to say to him. It took you a few tries before finally hitting the send button.

You: So, I thought about it

LJ: And?

You: I need to know I can trust you

LJ: Okay. How?

You: I don’t know. Send me a proof that you’re real. Get tested?

You: Is that fine with you?

Within a split second, he sent his reply.

He actually did it.

You couldn’t believe it but he actually did it.

LJ: Consider it done.

He got tested for physical, including the virus test, and passed with flying colors. He even sent you a vid of him inside a medical clinic.

He just sent the uncensored results this morning where you can clearly see his real name.

Lee Jeno.

LJ.

Seems legit.

Well, the uncreative nickname shouldn’t matter now because the results meant only one thing.

You’re gonna have to push through with your promise.

You got ready around noon that day. You can’t remember the last time that you actually got ready to meet someone that’s not a delivery guy or a relative passing on something to your family.

As someone who overthinks a lot, you actually got everything covered. You picked a place near a restaurant to eat. The police station is just a few blocks away just in case something happens, and right in front of a library…

“Where’re are you off to?”

You raised your backpack to show to your mother.

“I’m off to the library. I needed to get these renewed. Maybe pick up a novel or two.”

She looks at you from head to toe, eyeing that incredibly loose hoodie, faded denim jeans, some worn out sneakers that looked like it’s supposed to be thrown away years ago and a medical mask that covers about ¾ of your bare face. It’s just your usual attire whenever you go out for errands.

She just nodded and went back to watching her favorite soap opera.

“It’s nice that you’re out of your room for once. Take some cookies from the kitchen so you’ll have something to eat in case you get hungry.”

… as an alibi to get away from your strict parents.

As soon as you left the door and made sure that you’re out of sight, you found the nearest public toilet and grabbed a whole other outfit from your backpack. The hoodie is replaced by a white, ruffled see-through blouse and you ditched the jeans for a tight skirt that’s at least four inches above your knees. You tousled your hair a little bit and put on some powder and tiny hint of lipstick before putting your facemask back on again.

It’s been a while since you’ve done an elaborate scheme like this. Your skills got a little bit rusty, but they always work.

Sometimes you wonder if you’re really meant to be lawyer or a criminal instead.

You stepped out of the toilet and blended right back into society.

Now all you have to do is find wherever the hell LJ is.

Jeno sat anxiously as he waited for you right inside the café. He’s on his fourth cup of coffee but it didn’t do anything to calm his nerves down (geez I wonder why).

You: I’m almost at the café.

He’s been staring at his phone the whole time. Once he received your message, which is a pic of you in the bathroom after the outfit change, he almost choked on his drink.

This message sent him on a panic as he turned his camera on to see how he looked. He did some minor adjustments to his hair and he wiped off his eyeglasses clean with the sleeves of his hoodie (which did nothing for him by the way) and then casually sat down and played it off cool like he hasn’t been waiting for you for over an hour.

On your perspective, you walked inside the café and looked around for LJ. Fortunately, there was only guy inside the café, twiddling with his phone on his hands and as he kept on peeking through the glass windows as if he’s looking for someone.

From afar, he actually looked really cute. His appearance, a shy, nerdy dude with glasses, looked way off from the fuckboy image that you expected him to have in reference to the messages that you’ve been getting from him.

It’s always the quiet ones that are kinky. You should know, you are one.

You walked over to his table and tapped his shoulders to get his attention.

He froze for a moment before he finally managed to turn around and face you.

“You’re actually here.”

“I know. I’m just as surprised as you are.”

tap tap tap tap

The room is so quiet that the only thing you can hear is the sound of your heels tapping against the tiled floor. You can say that that is one of your observable annoying habits tapping your foot on the floor when you're a nervous wreck.

Sighing in retaliation, you removed your hoodie, fanning yourself as you tried to relax and get comfy on the hotel couch (which should be comfortable enough since you paid a shit ton of money on that room), switching the TV on to get your mind off of things. The lackluster array of shitty sitcoms didn’t distract you at all, but it instead reminded you of the reasons why you’re in that room in the first place.

Having nothing to do to pass the time, you paced back and forth in the room, finally sitting down once you realized that it looks way worse than you just tapping your foot. You folded your arms right across your chest, looking at the watch from time to time but the hands of the clock seem to be moving slower the more you stare at it.

Quarantine started almost a year ago and it's been very hard for you. Sexually. It's been almost a year since you've been touched by a man and you’re more than ready to jump on anyone’s dick at any this point,

Too bad that that dick is taking his sweet time in the bathroom.

tap tap tap tap

Your foot found its rhythm once again, only this time, you’re not nervous anymore. Your patience is wearing thin.

As if summoned by the constant tapping, the guy comes out of the bathroom, just casually drying himself while wearing nothing but the towel dangerously hanging on his waist and a boyish smile on his lips.

No biggie.

"Hey."

Suddenly, you’re not tapping anymore.

Head empty, just thoughts of a hot guy patting down a towel all over his toned body.

“I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long.”

He spoke, tossing aside the towel on his hands on the sofa, finally giving you a full view of him and all his glory.

You must admit, you’re skeptical at first. The guy that’s been sending you faceless thirst traps just days ago, telling you how he’d fuck you senseless looked a lot different from the guy who entered the hotel room just a moment ago.

He came in wearing those black oversized hoodies that did a great job in hiding his best features. His hair was a bit long for your taste, covering half of his face while the face mask hid the other.

But this man right here in front you, he’s Adonis.

You unconsciously bit your lower lip, earning a chuckle from the guy.

“I’m guessing that you’d like to start now?”

You nodded, the tension and awkwardness rendering you unable to speak.

He smiles as he takes the remote from you, turning off the television because the main show is about to start.

You started to tense up again, eyes wide as you realized that he’s now right beside you, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he sat down. He leans over, soft lips coming into contact with your exposed neck and shoulders, landing small pecks all over.

You sat there breathless as he slowly ran his fingers to the side of your thighs, tracing circles at it while giving small, reassuring kisses on your neck and shoulders. It’s as if he’s asking you for your consent, waiting for you to open up to him before he makes a move.

He got his answer when you turned around to face him, running your fingers into his cheeks before cupping his face, your lips finally touching his. He moved in the same pace as earlier, slow and calculating. You got a bit impatient once again, biting his lower lips gently to let him know that he can do more.

He grabbed you by the waist and successfully placed you on top of him. The kiss got even more sloppy as you ran your hands through nape, then into his soft locks. His hands travelled once again, finger running through legs again, stopping as soon as he reached the hem of your skirt, flipping it up to reveal the thin lace material that barely covered your core. You took that as initiative to remove the towel on his waist and grinded against his growing member, the friction and heat enough to earn a groan out of him.

He held your waist once again, firmly this time, halting your movement completely.

You broke away from the kiss, staring him in the eyes to read his face.

“Something wrong?”

“Hold tight.”

You were about to ask about what hold tight mean, but your arms cling unto him involuntarily as he lifts the both of you out of the sofa.

Jeno laid you gently in the bed, making sure not to break eye contact as he does so. He looked like he's about to eat you alive, which is enough to send flush to your cheeks.

“I would’ve loved to bend you over that sofa, but I think it’s just proper that our first time will be on the bed.”

"God. You're beautiful."

He then ran his fingers towards the thin fabric of your blouse, feeling every part of your torso like he's memorizing every detail of it. His hands then travelled in your chest, squeezing the swell of your breasts on each hand, fingers shaking as he does so. It felt like an artist admiring his delicate work of art.

He situated himself between your legs, taking a moment to admire you first before doing anything else.

He started to run his hand on your cleavage and stopped on the uppermost button of your blouse, taking his time to remove all of them and placing a kisses at the exposed skin. After all of the buttons are taken care of, you lifted your body up and slid off the fabric. Your black lacy bra finally made its appearance. You took the liberty of taking that off too, as slow and as you possibly can.

 Jeno just stared at your body in awe, breathing heavily as his eyes scanned your naked glory.

 "Gorgeous."

He said under this breath before leaning down to claim your lips once again. You're turned on by how much attention he's giving your body now. You're usually loud in bed but his gestures are making you bashful. You've never felt this beautiful before.

You can feel his hands trembling as it travels all over your body, his kisses getting even more needy. There was moans of satisfaction every time he would lick your lips. Jeno was kissing you like you were oxygen and he needed to breath.

His hands travelled south, running across your thigh and your now aching core. You're about to remove your skirt and underwear but he stopped your hands midway.

"Keep it."

He took your hands away from your skirt and placed them just above your head.

"Just sit there and relax baby. Let me treat you."

You did just like he told you and gave him full control of your body.

"Good girl."

His lips brushed your ears, whispering sweet nothings about how beautiful you are under him. His kisses then went down to your neck, using his tongue and teeth, marking everything he can get his mouth on with his saliva. Meanwhile, his hands finally touched you down there, massaging your still clothed wetness.

His middle and index finger felt your slit, moving it in swift motion in search for your clit.

"Oh my god. That's it."

You gasped as his fingers finally hit the right spot, tossing your head back as his fingers made circles at your bundle or nerves.

You opened your legs more, leaning on your arms on your back, head tossed back and eyes closed as you feel your impending orgasm.

He dipped his hand inside your underwear and collected some of your essence with his fingers. The mental picture of him licking his fingers deliciously is enough to get you off for weeks.

It didn't take long before he took your panties off and his ducked his head down. He opened your legs once again and licked one long stripe on your core, making sure to taste all of you. You sat there and watch as he hungrily takes all of you in his mouth, acting like your pussy is a full course meal and he's been starving for years.

Within moments, you've become a moaning, toe curled mess. You ran your fingers to his blonde hair, guiding him on how to move his tongue and fingers on you. At one point, he bit some of your sensitive skin, making you scream a string of curses under your breath.

"Stop stop stop."

You grab a fistful of his hair and he paused from what he was doing. You pushed him gently away from you, leaving him staring at you confusedly. The confusion didn't last long when you flipped your current position, you're now on top.

"Can I ride your face?"

At this point, you're bold and horny enough to use your words and ask him. He just nodded, sliding himself from underneath you and went back to eating you like a champ. You grabbed his hands and placed them across your chest, squeezing your breasts to send him a message. He was quick to pick up and followed suit, pinching your nipples right in between fingers while your ride his face to orgasm.

"Shit. I'm coming..."

  You writhed from above him as you come undone. Your body felt cold all over. Your eyes are ringing, feeling dizzy as you almost passed out while you bucked your hips a few more times to milk your release.

You didn’t have time to recover when you heard your phone ringing from outside. Your legs felt a little shaky and you almost tumbled and hit your head in the wall if Jeno didn’t help you get up. You  sat down on the floor, butt-ass naked as you frantically searched for your phone from under all of your stuff before you finally pressed the answer button.

“Yes mom?”

“Where have you been? Your father’s been looking for you at the library. He’s picking you up on your way home.”

You buried your head on the couch to shake off the buzzing feeling on your head. You placed a pillow on your body while you searched for your discarded clothes all over the hotel room.

“Oh yeah. I went to the café and got something to eat. Tell Dad I’ll meet him outside the library.”

“Okay sweetie. Can you pick up some groceries on your way back? I’ll text you the list.”

“Yeah mom. Bye.”

You breathe a sigh of relief as you started putting on the outfit that you wore when you left home.

“Where are you going?”

Jeno reluctantly got dressed as well, his shy demeanor came back as soon as he wore his glasses and fixed his hair.

“I got to go, Jeno. I’m sorry that I’m leaving in such a bad time…”

You went over to him and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.

“I promise to make it up to you next time, okay? I’d love to meet you again.”

You grabbed a paper bag from your backpack and handed it to him, waving as you bolted out the door.

After fixing his things, he sat down for a moment and took a quick peek inside the package that you left him.

It was a ziplock bag of full of cookies and a whole other treat.

You left him your two-piece lace lingerie.

To be continued.

[valdomarx]

Anon requested: Person A thinks that a proposal would be a great way to get out of a jam. Person B thinks it is a sincere proposal and accepts. Realizing it wasn't done from a genuine place leads to some upset.

In Jaskier’s defence, it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

“Marry me, Geralt!” he called, jogging over to his witcher, a little out of breath.

Geralt’s face pinched into something cross and Jaskier was sure he was about to be told to fuck entirely off.

“It’s the Belleteyn festival tonight,” he explained quickly. “I might have, erm, sown my seed a little more widely than would be advisable in the town.” Geralt scowled. “And there may have been some, ahem, threats against my person made by the local lord.“ Geralt’s scowl deepened. “But we can smooth it all over if we’re wed tonight. There’s some local custom -- forgiveness of past indiscretions for newly married couples on May Eve.“

Geralt was still glowering but he hadn’t said no yet. Jaskier pulled out his strongest move: He ducked his head, looked up at Geralt from under his lashes, and licked his lips. Geralt’s eyes followed the movement of his tongue almost imperceptibly.

“So marry me? Here. Tonight.”

.

It had been a lovely ceremony, as fake weddings go. There had been music and wine, dancing and merriment, and Geralt even allowed some of the local girls to braid flowers into his hair.

They’d only had enough coin for one ring, a simple silver band, so Jaskier had taken that and he’d given Geralt his father’s signet ring. He’d never have parted with it for anyone else, but it was Geralt. He knew without question he would keep it safe until this ruse was over with.

Perhaps there really was something magical in the air at that time of year, or maybe it was an evening spent at an increasingly raunchy celebration that did it. But after the festivities were over and the townsfolk returned to their homes, Geralt took Jaskier back to their campsite in the woods, laid him down on a bedroll with indescribable tenderness, and fucked him within an inch of his life.

It was everything Jaskier had been quietly fantasising about for years, except more because it was Geralt and even Jaskier’s profoundly vivid imagination couldn’t match the reality of his witcher, every glorious inch of muscle straining and taut, eyes blown wide with lust, taking Jaskier apart and piecing him back together again.

.

The next morning, Jaskier woke slowly, feeling the telling ache of a night well spent. Geralt was already up, packing up camp and loading their bags onto Roach.

“There’s oatmeal in the pot if you want breakfast,” Geralt grunted. “We should get going soon.” He turned back to his work.

Right. Okay. They just... weren’t going to talk about it then. Back to business as usual.

Jaskier shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course Geralt would be as pragmatic about sex as he was about everything else. A way to get some relief, to meet a need. No expectations.

Hell, it had taken Geralt over a decade to admit they were actually friends. Jaskier felt stupid for even hoping for more.

Sleeping together had been a one time deal, it seemed. Too bad.

.

Jaskier realised he was still wearing the ring a few hours later. He should take it off, get rid of it. Maybe sell it at the next town.

He should ask Geralt for his father’s ring back too. But it seemed somehow rude to ask, too needy.

And he... well, he sort of liked catching glimpses of it decorating Geralt’s finger, like a tiny piece of Jaskier was with him wherever he went.

Jaskier found his thumb rubbing over the silver band around his own finger over and over again. It was silly, he knew, but he liked the feel of it. He would keep it for now.

.

After that, things got weird. At lunch, Geralt tried to persuade Jaskier to eat the last of the apples, as if he didn’t know their supply was running low. And at dinner, Geralt hunted and prepared two squirrels for Jaskier instead of the customary one. Jaskier would eat just about anything in a pinch, but charred rodent was not something he felt the need for seconds of.

Everywhere they went, Geralt kept trying to foist food on him. Did he think that Jaskier was weak? That he wasn't able to keep up without extra supplies? Jaskier was, admittedly, not as young as he used to be, but he thought he still measured up pretty well in the fitness department. He didn’t love the implication that he was falling short in some way.

.

At night, Geralt would lay out their bedrolls close together. Close, but never touching. When he laid down, Jaskier could feel Geralt’s breath on the back of his neck, and his chest ached with want.

He waited every night for Geralt to sneak an arm around his waist and pull him close, or to lean forward and whisper an invitation in his ear. Jaskier would be on him in a second.

But he never did, and every night Jaskier berated himself again for being so foolish and tried to push the thoughts from his mind. It was hard being so close and yet so far from what he truly wanted, but he wouldn’t force Geralt into a situation he wasn’t comfortable with.

.

After a week of this Jaskier was truly beginning to lose his mind, and it was a relief when they came upon a small town where they could rest for the night. Jaskier could go out, find some company and distract himself from the hopeless longing settled in his bones, even if only for the night.

When he announced his intention to look around the town, Geralt said he would come along too. That wasn’t ideal for Jaskier’s plan of distraction, but he’d make it work. He always enjoyed Geralt’s company anyway.

There wasn't a lot going on in the town, but there was a pretty barmaid in the tavern, a cheerful red-haired lady with exuberant freckles and strong curves. She flashed a smile at Jaskier the moment they walked in.

Perfect. He smiled back, ordered two drinks, and set to flirting outrageously with her. She giggled and teased back, not seeming intimidated by Geralt‘s presence, even though he was growing notably testier as their interactions became more charged.

When she reached over the bar to twirl a finger through Jaskier’s hair, Geralt actually growled.

She backed off and looked at Geralt. “Didn’t mean any harm,” she said. “I’m just being friendly. Unless...” She looked down at their hands on the bar, apparently noting their rings, and then back to Jaskier. “Unless you’re spoken for. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that,” Jaskier said with a laugh, just as Geralt said, “Yes, actually, we’re married.”

Jaskier stared at Geralt. Geralt stared at Jaskier. The barmaid held her hands up in the universal gesture for “none of my business, nothing to see here” and backed away to wipe down a table.

Every muscle in Geralt’s neck was tense and throbbing, and Jaskier had no idea what to say.

“Geralt,” he began, carefully. “is this about the other day? The ceremony? Did you... Did you think that was for real?”

Something pained flashed across Geralt’s face, an expression more raw than any Jaskier had seen on him before. Then he stood, turned, and bolted from the tavern.

“Geralt!” Jaskier called, getting to his feet. “Geralt, wait!”

By the time Jaskier was out of the door, Geralt was already disappearing down the dirt road, not turning back.

Ahh, fuck.

.

Jaskier left the girl at the tavern with a hurried apology, pausing only to throw their various possessions into bags and to load up Roach before heading out after Geralt. He knew bugger all about tracking, but he knew the direction Geralt was heading, and after that he relied on Roach’s instincts. She at least seemed confident in what to do.

He caught up to Geralt less than a mile outside of town. He was sat alone in a copse of trees just off the road, staring at the leaves.

He didn’t flee as Jaskier approached, though he didn’t turn to look at him either. “Geralt? I’m sorry. I was thoughtless. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Geralt stood slowly and turned to face him, though he avoided making eye contact. “It was a misunderstanding.” Geralt’s face was carefully blank, a look Jaskier recognised from times he was trying very hard to hide his emotions. “A wrong assumption on my part about the seriousness of the ceremony at Belleteyn.”

“Holy hell, Geralt.” Jaskier’s mind reeled. Geralt thought they had really been getting married, and he had been okay with that? “Does that mean... Would you actually want to be married to me?”

“It was stupid,” Geralt gritted out. Anyone else would have thought he was angry, but Jaskier knew him well enough to see he was hurt. “To think it was anything more than a distraction.”

No no no, that wasn’t right at all. Jaskier tried to take Geralt’s chin in his hand but Geralt turned his face forcefully away.

“Is that why you’ve been acting strange?” Jaskier thought back on it: the gifts of food, the aborted attempts at closeness, the feeling Geralt’s eyes on him constantly, checking his well-being.

“I thought...” Geralt wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I thought you wanted things to be normal. Like they always were.”

“If I were married to you for real, I wouldn’t act like everything was normal!” Jaskier exploded. “Damn it, Geralt. I’d kiss you every morning and hold you every night. And I’d tell everyone we met -- everyone -- that I was the luckiest person on the continent, because this is my husband, the one and only Geralt of Rivia, and he’s the best man I’ve ever met.”

Jaskier shut his mouth. Too late, though. Too late to take any of that back.

Geralt’s brow was pinched, though it didn’t quite look like a frown. It almost made him look thoughtful.

Finally he looked at Jaskier raised an eyebrow. “Every morning?”

Jaskier felt all the fight leaving his body in one grand sweep. Geralt let him push him to his knees on the ground and allowed Jaskier to flop into his lap. Jaskier brushed a strand of hair from his face. “I’ve thought about kissing you every day for years,” Jaskier confessed.

And then he saw it -- one of Geralt’s oh-so-rare smiles. Not the forced grimace he adopted when he needed to look nonthreatening, or the tolerant lip twitch he’d give Jaskier when he was trying to be funny. No, this was a genuine Geralt smile, more precious than gemstones, the kind that lifted his entire face and reached his eyes.

Geralt threaded a hand into the back of his hair, brought their faces closer, and kissed him. At the touch of their lips every part of him went boneless, held up only by Geralt’s arms and a determination to make as much bodily contact as he possibly could.

His head was spinning by the time they pulled apart for air. Geralt’s eyes were sparkling, and Jaskier could have lost himself in that sight for the rest of his life and considered himself a lucky man.

Geralt leaned their foreheads together. “Will you stay with me?” he asked, very quietly. “Even if all I can offer you is charred squirrel and sleeping beneath the stars?”

“Always,” Jaskier promised, without a shadow of a doubt. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Through the good and the bad, the injuries and the pain, the plenty and the lean times. Through it all, he wanted to be with Geralt.

Jaskier took Geralt’s hand in his and slotted their fingers together. Their rings lay next to each other, the elaborate gold of Jaskier’s crest shining against Geralt’s pale skin and the smooth silver encircling his own finger like an embrace.

It was all startlingly clear. “Marry me, Geralt,” he said, his heart welling over. “For real this time.”

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - The aloof Bombay & wounded Border Collie

Summary: They say you are what you are in the dark. So you prove just who you are when there's only you and Frederick in a dark house, with no one else around. 

TW: [Swearing], [Profanity], [Angst with a happy ending] & [Mild panic attack]

So, first thing first, a little backstory about this oneshot. I had already written out the first scene a week before Redacted announced the discontinuation of Frederick & Bright Eyes series. Although he mentioned that it’s fine to continue on writing headcanons about the two, I was hesitant to continue writing this fic. 

But I’ve been missing them terribly so I sat my ass down and finally completed it! Yay! Fred & Bright Eyes had one of the most interesting dynamics in this fandom so I wanted to give it a go based on my headcanons of them. 

-

There's a strange sort of energy hovering around Vincent and Sam lately. 

It's not subtle either. Its anxiety, stress and uncertainty all roll together into a heavily dense fog that makes you itches under the skin. 

This has been going on for days now. 

Vincent constantly has thick textbooks with him whenever he comes over to Sam's place. They would exchange short pleasantries before Sam hurried off to his Werewolf beau (it's sort of funny the first time Sam returns home, and you spotted courses of wolf's hair stuck onto the hem of his clothes and jeans. You figured that this man's main hobby was tussling with Wolves, but when Sam would sneak back into his own fucking house like a teenager, it wasn't hard to put two-and-two together). Vincent would then make sure that you and Frederick are fed, settled in for the night before he completely ignores the two of you in favour of his school work. 

As if the two of you are a pair to toddlers. You'd laugh if it didn't annoy you. 

Fred, ever the gentle sweetheart, attempted to make small talks at first. Tentatively asking if he's stressed out over exams and if there's anything he could do to help - the result was expected. With pen in hand, notebooks and the two hundred and one pages depicting the foundations of magical healing, Vincent rather absentmindedly shooed him away. 

Sam is arguably the worst. Ever since he stepped outside of the house during their crash course of the Empowered creatures in Dahlia to answer a phone call, he returns with lines on his forehead and shoulders tensed as hell. 

Their impromptu lesson ended just like that when another Clan member had to babysit the two of you after Sam stormed out of the house. 

You don't know whether they realise how taunt their strings have been, and you don't really care, honestly. Just curious; you're pretty confident that something big will happen soon. 

At least there's something exciting to look forward to other than Sam's disapproving frowns and Fred's frustrated attempts at making you bear your heart and guts out. 

And something big will happen soon. Apparently, there's something equivalent to a magical Olympics that occurs every year called the Elemental & Energetic Games, and this year, the local supernatural academy would be the one hosting it in Dahlia. Interesting. 

Speaking of which, you could hear Vincent talking to his lover outside your bedroom through his phone. "Sam's on the way... yeah, he just texted me." A short pause. "Yeah, I can do that. Hey, hey, Lovely - listen to me. Everything's going to be alright. You've been practising non-stop for the Games. You deserve a special night for a change. So here's what we're going to do: I'll pick up some of that blueberry pie you love so much on the way back, we'll watch some movies after dinner and then have an early night so you'll feel better tomorrow. Sounds good? Nice. Oh wait - I think I can hear Sam outside. See you in a little bit. Love you too, Lovely." 

You tune the outside world after that. It makes sense now why Vincent was stressed out; he's busy playing the good boyfriend. 

With a tired sigh, you try your best to occupy your mind. It's three hours to midnight, but to Vampires, that's practically early morning, and you're already so bored. You don't want to step out of your little sanctuary if it means having to deal with Sam, Vincent and Fred tonight. 

Or ever. Forever sounds good. 

Not knowing what else to do, you pushed yourself out of bed and padded towards the window sill. The cool night air greets you as well as the trees and shadows that stretch on for miles. Once you and Fred were officially brought under Sam's care as his Progenies, you quickly realise that his house is located on the outskirts of Dahlia. Where the forests sprawl behind the abode and the city lights are just far enough not to pollute the night sky. 

A perfect place to raise a pair of unplanned Newborn Vampires. You conclude that either Sam enjoys living by himself in a secluded property or that this house was given to him by Mr. Solaire. 

Either way, you would've love to sneak out and explore the forest if it weren't for the magical wards that Sam had warned the two of you. The moment you or Fred steps out of the immediate area, Sam would know right away that one of them disobeyed his rules. 

So despite the pleasant night air, there's a strum of anxiety and restlessness stirring within you. Is it because of Sam's recent behaviours or the upcoming Games? You can't tell, not when no one is bothered enough to tell you what's going on. 

You take a deep breath and take your sweet time to exhale the air out. There's no use in working yourself up; not when you just need to get through this Newborn phase. It's better to think of the future. 

And that bastard's mangled corpse at your feet. 

"You should've listened to your friend, little mouse." 

Ironically, the monster's voice is the only thing keeping you sane during this whole happy house facade that Sam and Frederick insist on playing. Late-night fantasies of ripping that smug's asshole to pieces are the only thing that keeps you going, sad as it is. 

It's not revenge; it's justice. It's your atonement for hurting Frederick. What good would apologies serve when you can present that monster's head to him? You're not deluded enough to play the victim; you're the reason why the two of you are the way you are now, but you'll be damn if you admit that to Sam. 

Sam's already blamed you for what happened to Fred. Even if he never says it. His lingering glances and furrowed brows are telling enough. There's no need to give him more ammunition against you. 

You breathe in and out again; willing yourself to calm down. So you start to distract yourself by planning to gather enough money and resources to leave the Clan once Mr. Solaire deems that you're safe to be on your own and to others. His kind smile and knowing eyes should've made you uncomfortable, but all you can feel is genuine compassion and understanding coming from that ancient Vampire King. 

So. Priorities: Passing the Newborn period, gather enough money, clothes and anything else that's important, thank Mr. Solaire for taking you into his Clan, and if it's not too presumptuous, ask him to continue to care for Fred. 

A knock on the door startles you from your train of thoughts, but you keep your gaze on the dark forest laid before you. 

You heard the door creak as it slowly swings open and then, "Bright Eyes? Is... Is everything ok?" 

It's Fred. Of course, it would be Fred. 

"Mm-hmm." You reply absentmindedly. You didn't even have to look at him to know that he doesn't believe your bullshit. And him being your Sire makes it impossible to lie to him, so you often gives out vague responses. 

Most of these days, your interactions with him are curt, with doubt thrown into the mix. Fred is hesitant to press you when you brush away his questions, and in return, you hide as often as possible so you wouldn't step on any emotional landmines in this house. 

"Are you sure? Because I can kind of sense that you're upset..." Fred said after a brief moment of hesitation. Ah, it's going to be one of those nights. 

The bond between a Sire and his Progeny once again proves to be a fucking nuisance. Not only could you not lie to Fred, but he could also sense phantom emotions coming from you. So much for privacy. 

"It's fine, Fred. I was just thinking." There. Not a lie but not the total truth either. 

"O-Oh." From the doorway, Fred bit his lower lip. Why is it getting harder and harder to approach Bright Eyes nowadays? He hates this distance between them. He hates how they rarely left their room. 

He hates how it feels like he's losing his friend as the days go by. 

"Do you, uh, maybe want to play a game or something? Vincent hooked up a Playstation 5 before he left. I think he also left some video games - "

"I'm not in the mood to play tonight, Fred. Maybe tomorrow." 

Fred sighs at the clear dismissal. It honestly hurt; Bright Eyes constant rebuff is getting sharper and sharper. Without another word, Fred left Bright Eyes to their thoughts. 

As usual, nothing is absolved tonight. 

-

It's a boring rainy Wednesday night. The gentle pitter-patter of raindrops against the shutters promises an incoming storm when you hear the sound of rumbling thunders approaching the city from a distance. 

Tonight, Vincent is too busy at D.A.M.N to babysit you and Fred. Sam already left the house an hour after the sun had set with his usual instructions not to go beyond the wards and that a Clan member would be coming over to supervise them. 

Why does this feel like you and Fred are the unwanted children from a divorced couple? Oh well, all the more reason to leave the clan ASAP. 

You plan to brood in your room as usual after draining your share of the blood bags in the fridge. However, the moment you take three steps out of the kitchen, lightning flashes across the sky. 

The power trip, hurtling the entire house into total darkness. 

"The circuit breaker," You murmur, inhumane eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness as you look around the area in 4K HD. "Did Sam ever mentioned where it was?" You tried to recall the house's layout from Sam's words alone, but you tend to tune out his voice whenever he speaks more than twenty minutes. So it looks like you better start from the basement.  

Just when you're about to head downstairs, a whimper froze you. You tilt your head towards one of the bedrooms. 

The sound is coming from Fred's. 

You stood your ground for only a few seconds of hesitation before you quietly approached his bedroom and slowly opened the door as to not startle him — concern creeping into your heart. 

Just like the rest of the house, Fred's bedroom is completely dark. Lightning flashed once more to illuminate Fred's huddled figure on the floor near the window. He's breathing very hard and rapidly with his head in between his knees. 

Your heart twisted into a knot at the sight of a frightened Fred, and you couldn't help but wonder if this is how he looked like when that monster hurt him. 

You forcefully put that thought away. You're horrible with words, but there's one way you can still comfort him. 

Fred's breath hitches when your back lean against his. "B-Bright Eyes?" He calls out with a choked sob, head slightly raised in surprise. 

When you said nothing, Fred let out a ragged sigh. "What are you doing here? I thought you couldn't stand the sight of me." 

You blink and turn your head to give him a side-eye. Say what? 

"Don't give me that l-look." Fred snaps after a sniffle. "You could hardly look at my face lately, and you only leave your bedroom whenever you have to eat. If it weren't for that, you'd happily pretend that Sam and I don't even exist." 

"That's because whenever I'm around, you keep wanting to talk about Wonderworld, and Sam keeps shooting me looks as if I'm a shitstain underneath his fucking boots." You shoot back reflexively. 

Much to the surprise of absolutely no one, your words upset Fred even further. "You can't talk about Sam like that! He's been nothing but kind to us. To you and you just - "

"He blames me for what happened to you!" Fred can't be this oblivious, can he?

Behind you, Fred went stiff.

"You're his Progeny, and I'm the deadweight that he's stuck with because you Turned me. He knows it, Vincent knows it. Fuck it, everyone in the Clan knows it! So why should I give a damn when I'm unwanted? And that's alright! That's totally alright! You want to know why that's alright, Freddy?" Lightning split the night sky. A rather powerful thunder shakes the house, but at this moment, nothing exists except for you, Fred and the tension that has been brewing between the two of you the moment your humanities were forfeit.  

"I'm not planning to stay here any longer than I have to! The moment Mr. Solaire give us the green light, I'm out of Dahlia! Buh-bye! You and Sam can do whatever the fuck you want, but I don't want to stay in this city any longer! I don't have anything left here!" 

Silence enveloped the bedroom. What are you even doing here? Why did you even think you could comfort Fred when all you've been doing is hurting him. Even now! This was a mistake. You should've - 

"I was right. I'm losing you too..." 

"Uh, what?" 

Fred tucks his head in between legs tighter as if he's trying to hide from the world. "I think I always knew that you were going to leave me when you started to pull away from everyone. That's why I wanted us to talk about that Halloween night so badly." His voice is ragged, tears stream down his face. "Y-You said that you don't have anything left in Dahlia, but... you're all that I have left and if you leave... I..." Fred sighed and quietly continued, "I thought I was your friend. I thought I meant something to you." 

"I've hurt you." You reply, just as quietly. "I've been hurting you since Wonderworld, and even tonight, I'm hurting you. I didn't listen to you that night, and because of it, we're here. You lost your family, friends and future and for that I'm... I'm so sorry, Fred. You didn't deserve anything that happened to you." 

"Thank you, Bright Eyes. I-I needed to hear that." Fred reply. When he reaches for your hand, you squeeze it back. "What happened was... fucked up, but none of us knew about that Vampire. Or that Vampires actually exist. So it's stupid of me to blame you for our d-deaths." 

"But I didn't listen - "

"Yes, you didn't listen but will you listen to what I have to say now, Bright Eyes? Please? I want us to move on from this together. I want us to be better." 

Perhaps it's how raw and near begging Fred sounds that both of your walls are down tonight. Perhaps, tonight, you finally realise that it's you that doesn't like confrontations and that despite Fred's gentle and reserved nature, he has no problem mending the wounds between the two of you with force if he has to. Huh, who could've thought? 

The two of you talk for hours in the darkness. It feels so awkward to bear your heart to Fred after everything, but to your immense surprise and relief, he listens to you patiently, and once you're done, he let you into his heart. All the fears, insecurities, regrets, shame and horror are laid between you and together, you address them one by one until the storm lets up. 

And when the silver light of the moon peeking through heavy clouds, you found yourself snuggling with Fred on his bed. Your head tucks into the crook of his neck while Fred's arm is around you. It's strange how lighter your heart is now. 

"Have you stop crying already?" You ask, wondering if you'd need to run to the kitchen to make a simple bag of ice for Fred's red, puffy eyes before they swelled. 

Fred snort. He sniffles and squeezes your body in assurance. Being slightly taller than you, it feels sort of nice to be held like this. Despite their heartfelt conversation and confessions, the trauma they both carry is still fresh, but now, it doesn't feel like an overwhelming miasma threatening to drown you in guilt and sorrow. "Yeah, yeah. I'm alright now. It feels good to finally cry after... after everything." 

"Can't relate." You bluntly interject. "I usually get pissed off after a crying session." 

"I can actually believe that." Fred giggles. "I'm beginning to understand you a lot better, Bright Eyes. Thank you for listening; I know that words are hard for you, so I'm very grateful that you want to work things out as much as I do." 

"Mn." 

Outside, the rain has become a gentle drizzle, and the stars ushered a bright full moon. It's too lovely of a night to brood; you might as well take a nap with Fred. 

"Bright Eyes?" Fred suddenly speaks up, bringing you out of your sleepy haze. 

"Mn?" 

"Do you... I mean... are you still planning to leave Dahlia?" His voice returns to its timid and hesitant state. 

"Well... yeah. After our - urgh - mushy talk, I realise it's all the more reason I need to do it. You're the only thing I have left in this city after all." 

"You want to leave me despite just saying that all you have is me? Uh, I don't... don't get it. Can you please explain it to me, Bright Eyes?" 

You hold back a groan. It looks like Fred has discovered the magic of 'please' and your weakness to it. "I'm planning to kill the Vampire who killed us and use his skull as my apology gift to you." 

Unlike you, Fred groans in disbelieve. You yelp when he manoeuvres you so your body can lie on top of his and trap you in his arms. "No... Bright Eyes, no... no hunting that asshole, OK? You don't need to give me a skull; just stay here with me. Skulls are gross anyway." He whines like a needy toddler, which, surprisingly, makes you feel fond instead of irritated. 

So you roll your eyes and press your face into Fred's chest. Perhaps you can try to convince Fred to leave with you in the future, but for now, nothing matters but the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the faint scent of wet grass outside. 

They're going to be alright. 

[peakyxtommy]

Better Days - Thomas Shelby x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Dark/Hurt/Comfort/Sad Fic/Slight Fluff 

WC: 3.1K 

Summary: Reader is having a bad time & Tommy comforts her 

Gif Credit: @bonniebirddoesgifs

It was another morning of waking up with the weight of the world on your chest. The heavy feeling of dread, as if you were walking around with a cement block in the middle of your heart. A day where rolling around to the other side of the bed and pulling the covers over your head seemed better than leaving to the outside world. Staying under the covers had the illusion to block out the light, to block out the pain you felt deep within you. A sadness that seemed to linger, never leaving your side. A continuous cycle, that seemed to never end. Always ready to swallow you whole, but never knowing when it would come. A monster in the closet, always lurking, searching for ways to collide right into you at the worst times possible.

When your feet collide on the cold wooden floor to carry yourself to the bathroom, to start with the routine of your morning, you already knew what kind of day it was going to be. Of mentally checking off the list of tasks to get you from one step to another. You try not to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, afraid to look into your eyes. Eyes that held so much pain and sorrow, eyes that have seen enough heartache. Eyes that have seen joy and happiness, wondering how you could feel the bittersweetness of both sides. 

Once dressed and partially fed for the day you continue on through the notions of the day. Repeating the words back to yourself, to feel a sense of quiet, that you were actually going to make it through the day. The long hours of repetitive activity and small conversation with those that you encounter through the day. Masking who you are, pretending that things are okay as they seem. Feeling more energy suck out of you as the hours float on by. Your mind becomes bogged down like a boat in a storm on a foggy night in need of a lighthouse to guide it back safe to shore. 

Minding counting down the hours until you could return home and hide. Hide from the world, your problems, and from the one you loved deeply. Shamed and guilt ridden to share the thoughts that held your mind captive on a loop, like a personal tape, running endlessly inside you. The tape that recounted every wrong, every lie, every misstep you have taken. 

As soon as you stepped through the door and had your final conversation of the day thus far with Mary, it felt like a small win. You go and find comfort in the darkness and the burrow of blankets on your bed, surrounded by the warmth and love you so desperately craved, wanted to feel. Hoping the pieces would form back together again. 

-

“Mary, have you seen (Y/N)?” Tommy asks as he comes through the door, placing his coat on the rack. You were usually out in the open when he came in early reading on the couch or in your craft room. 

“She’s upstairs, lying down Sir.” The woman speaks with a soft tone. 

“Is she feeling ill?” He questions with raised brows as it was still early in the evening.

“I think so Sir, she hasn’t eaten much these past few days. I went up a while ago to check on her but she’s sleeping, she’s been out for a while.” 

“Thank you Mary, I’ll handle it from here.” He speaks ushering the maid off and heading toward the stairs. He was cursing himself internally for not noticing your emotional state sooner. That’s how he found you, when he creaks open the door. Your frame huddled under the covers, facing toward his side of the bed, with the small lamp by the bedside on. 

 He reaches the side of your bed, he sees the remnant of wet tears on your face. He takes a seat on the bed, hand reaching out to gently rub your arm to awake you from your slumber. 

“Love, I’m home. Time to get up.” He whispers as you awaken to his voice and comforting touch.

“‘Hi Tommy.” You whisper back with a small smile. A smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. 

“How was your day?” He says in a low tone, noticing the way your eyes close for a moment and the pout that appears on your face.

“Not good.” Is the only response that leaves your still pouting lips. It hurts and silently frustrates him that you two are the same in this regard but you are still the better of the two when it comes to others. Internally when you are struggling you're just as bad as him but in the opposite of taking it out on yourself and your body instead of the booze and smokes. He had gotten better than the first few months of your relationship of knowing when you were getting sad and things weren’t going good. 

“Do you want to talk about what’s really bothering you?” He asks in a gentle manner not wanting to badger you but would if you didn’t speak the truth before you went to bed. He knew you always needed space when you were upset and then would let him in. The blue eyes that look so soft in this moment stare into yours with concern and worry. It hurt knowing you were hurting him in this way by remaining silent. You didn’t know why you’d do this still to this day and even as long as you two have been together. You were independent, strong, and prideful at times, but were the most scared when you had to open up your dark thoughts to the soul that loved you like hand craft jewels themselves. 

“Maybe later. Need to shower.” You finally sit up and take his hand in yours just craving his touch and he reciprocates the action.  

“Have a proper meal, heard you haven’t had much of an appetite these past few days.” His hands squeeze yours, thumbs rubbing circles on your hands. 

“Yes, we’ll have a proper meal Mr. Shelby. Whatever it is you want we will have it.” You respond, resting your head against his chest for a moment. 

“You go shower and I’ll see what I can get started in the kitchen.” His warm lips press into your forehead. 

“Alright, I’ll meet you down there in a bit.” You give him a small smile and press your lips against his cheek, legs swinging over the edge to stand and stretch, him copying your motions. As you walk past him, he grabs your hand to get your attention, causing you to turn to look up at him. 

“(Y/N), I love you. Whatever it is, we can handle it together.” You nod your head at his words ready to cry about them as you go run your shower. You watch as he leaves the room, the door closing shut behind him. The flick of a switch and twist of a knob, you find yourself undressing and climbing into the porcelain tub. Those were the days you sat in the hot shower, letting the droplets burn the skin. Wondering about why life has you so down, so paralyze by fear, you could barely breathe. You were drowning under the water and no one was there to pull you out. 

That is where and when you were the most vulnerable. Alone. The most earth shattering sound releases through your lungs and tightens them back up as it moves through your body. You wonder how one person could have a multitude of tears stored in them that was infinite. It would only last for so long before you felt you could continue on with the task at hand that would bring you closer to the relief you were waiting for.

 -

It was a rare sight to see and was one that you enjoyed when it did happen. It warmed your heart and brought a genuine smile to your face, despite the heaviness in your heart. You leaned against the frame, watching him in an element he was secretly good at but didn’t have the time to do. 

Let alone did he ever sit still to finish an actual meal half the time but he would try his hardest for you because meals were sometimes the only part of the day you two would spend together. He was busy and worked at all hours of the day but you had a regular day job. He would try to come home early in the evenings to eat with you even if it meant he had to go back out or continue work in his office, or spend it with you. Sometimes you worked long hours or would have to bring work home that needed completion after hours. 

He was wearing his round spectacles, which you enjoyed as it made him look more attractive than he already was. He was annoyed and embarrassed about them at first, but you’d always find a way to remind him how much you loved them. His sleeves were rolled halfway up revealing his strong forearms and ringed fingers that were slicing lettuce on a wooden cutting board. White dish cloth hanging from his shoulder. 

“Looks like you’ve been busy here, Chef Shelby.” You teased making your presence known as he glances up at you with a playful stare. 

“Only the best for you. How long have you been standing there?”

“Not too long, I had to take the chance to admire what’s mine.”

“Only yours forever.” He passes you a slice of cucumber as you take a seat at the island. 

“What are you cooking tonight?”

“Sausage, mash potatoes, and salad.”

“That sounds great. Thank you Tom.” You both grin at the other as you watch him play chef in the kitchen. It was satisfying as you haven’t had a moment to feel this good in the past couple of weeks. You sat talking about his day and him telling you a funny story of the younger Shelby clan over dinner. 

You still had lots of stories to discover about the man in front of you as did him. It was ever evolving when one would share a new story, that would come to the conscious so vividly like a dream of the incident happening again. It wasn’t often Tommy told stories of his past but when he did was usual in moments like these or when you two were up late at night together talking like two young lovers in love. 

 It was moments like these where it felt easier to breath, even if it was only temporary.  

A moment of bliss so delightful, it was beginning to stitch the pieces back together.

-

Distractions could only last for so long even good ones. You found yourself back in the reality of your sadness as the silence lapsed between the two of you. It wasn’t awkward but you knew you still had to talk to the one person that cared for you better than did sometimes and vice versa. 

You both were resting with your backs against the headboard of the bed, settling down for the remainder of the evening. Your upper body was half laying on his broad chest and head was resting against right in the crook of his neck. Your fingers were tracing circles on his bare torso mindlessly, mind away in the abyss. 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, hmm?” His hot breath whispers in your ear, lips pressing to your temple.

“Too much. It’s like my brain is a broken record and there’s no silence. I can’t shut off the thoughts and it’s clouding my thinking. Everything feels heavy and meaningless. Everything is the same day in and out. Life is passing by and I'm stuck in the middle watching it flash across my eyes.

The fear sets in like a weight in my stomach. It tenses my body and makes it hard to breath, to focus. It sets in first thing as I wake and lasts until it's time to go to bed. I can’t catch a break from it. It’s been hard trying to go to sleep, I feel fatigued all the time. 

The weight of existence is swallowing me back down to the depths of Hell. When I close my eyes at night all I can see is this darkness. I’m in our house and running away from this shadow that keeps chasing me. It always finds me no matter where I run or hide. When I call out or try to find you, you never come. It always ends that same, with the shadow coming to swallow me but I wake before it ever can.” 

The hot tears come back, falling against his chest as he listens to your inner monologue. The deepest part of who you were, on display for him to nurture with endearment. Your thoughts never scared him because of the life he lived through. Every time he held your fragile and aching body with heart wrenching sobs into his body in moments like this, frightened him. Distressed him to know that you were hurting this deeply. That you were carrying this alone and he hadn’t noticed. 

You were the sweetest of souls and free spirited. You were smart and a hard worker. When he first met you, he knew that you would be sticking around for a while. Once he fell in love with you, it was over for him. You were everything he wanted and more. He did his best to please you and give you everything you wanted. You were the most beautiful woman he laid eyes on. He wanted to have children with you in the future. He wanted old and gray with you. 

“Love, it’s okay I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here. I’m always going to find you. I’m always going to protect you and will never let anything happen to you. I’ll always save you.” 

He holds you close as you continue to cry. 

“Love, calm down. Let’s breathe or you’re going to make yourself sick.” He lifts your head, his heart aching more at the sight or your dreary face. 

Once he manages to get you to breathe at a normal pace. He gets to make his way to the bathroom. Returns after a minute with a warm rag to wet your face and a cup of water to drink. As you sip the water he wipes your face with the warm cloth. The water quenches your throat and the warmth from the cloth soothes your body while your husband soothes your mind with his affectionate actions. 

For that you were grateful. Grateful for a man like Thomas Shelby despite his flaws, that he too even loved you despite yours. He was charming and funny in private when it was just the two of you. He always knew how to get your attention in the softest way and would do anything to see you smile. You held the moon, the stars, and the whole universe in your being for him.

 Grateful that a man like Thomas Shelby understood sadness, grief, and the horror of what it felt like to not be able to escape from your dark thoughts. The thoughts that get stuck like leaves in the gutter, waiting to be cleaned out, or it can’t make way for the next rainfall. 

He would know how to stitch you back together. It was in those moments of unraveling the strings that held you so tight together, would untangle and pull you closer to him. 

 “What do you want me to do to help you? I’ll do anything you want. Take time off work, you can quit your job and get a new one. We can go spend time away from town and go on a trip. I want you to know that I want you to be happy and I'll do anything in my power to help you get there. 

Don’t listen to the negative voices in your head, love, does you no good. Think of all the amazing things you are. You are an excellent wife and help the company greatly. You are confident at your job and work twice as hard as me. You’re a heartfelt daughter and aunt. Watching with the nephews and nieces makes me know you’re going to be a wonderful mother. 

You’re the love of my life. I love you so much, wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you weren’t here. I want old and gray with you, but we need to have some kids first.” His big warm palms hold your face, caressing your cheeks with his fingers. 

“Thank you Tommy. I love you so much.” Your lips press against his chaste and slow moving in sync as your noses would bump slightly with minor movements. 

“There will be better days ahead love, I promise. When you close your eyes dream of me. I’ll come save you. I’ll be here when you wake up, I'm all yours until further notice.” His lips pressed against yours for the final time that night, as the lights were off. He was on his side holding you to his chest, as your body mirrored his as you laid your head on his chest, his arms holding your back.   

You knew in that moment, you didn’t need to say anything. He knew you and your heart for all that it was worth. He would come and help you water your plants as many times as you needed help. He would help you build your garden back until you were blooming yet again. 

He was your lifeline, that came to save you time and time again. You would do the same for him. Your love for another ran deep, deeper than both you admitted aloud sometimes. Both being able to tell through little actions and thoughts that would occur daily, he was your livewire. 

As your eyes closed you dreamed about something good for a first time in a long time. It was as vivid as a fresh painting on a warm spring day. It was a flash forward of your life. Of being with Tommy, having children, and being old and gray together. 

You slept in peace of knowing there were going to be better days ahead. 

-

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy 

If you want to be added to my taglist, just shoot me an Ask or comment down below! 

[safertokiss]

Concentrated Interests

A/N: Hola my friends! This fic was my entry for the Secret Fic Swap I participated in with a couple of close friends on here and it was written and dedicated to @nerdgirljen​. It was so much fun to write and thank you guys so much for all the support and love!

Pairing: SPENCER x READER

Category: Fluff and SMUT

Word Count: 3.3k

ENJOY:)

~~~

MASTERLIST

~~~

Spencer had never really understood the concept of soulmates or love at first sight.

In his mind, it defied pretty much every scientific law about human interaction out there and was simply a coping mechanism for those who were romantically unlucky. At least that was what he had thought until a certain tech analyst walked through the BAU’s doors and into his life. 

He was frozen. Totally and utterly enamored by the woman his eyes were currently attached to. He watched her stumble into the bullpen, a large box situated in her arms, seemingly impairing the entirety of her vision and coordination, evident by the way she kept bumping into things in her path. It wasn’t until she hit a particular desk corner and spilled the contents of the box, her belongings scattering across the floor, that Spencer broke out of his stupor and took action. 

“Woah there, let me help you with that!”, he exclaimed, immediately rushing to her side and starting to collect some of the fallen items to put back into the box.

“Oh, thank you so much. Gah, this is so embarrassing. I promise you I’m not always this uncoordinated and clumsy”, she explained with a nervous chuckle. After everything was picked up and they both had stood up from their crouched positions, she hurriedly straightened out her skirt before outstretching her hand. “Hi, I’m Y/n.” She immediately noticed the slight panic that crossed his features at her gesture and was momentarily confused.

“I-uh-I kind of don’t, um, do the whole hand shaking thing. Yeah, uh, the number of pathogens spread through a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to...oh god I’m sorry you didn’t ask for a full-out science lesson. It’s, um, really nice to meet you, I’m Reid. Doctor. Spencer”, he sputtered out nervously.

Chuckling softly, Y/n retracted her hand, opting to instead lightly nudge his shoulder. “Well Reid Doctor Spencer, it’s nice to meet you too”, a teasing smile adorning her face as she spoke. Spencer quickly felt a warm blush spread across his features at the absurdity of his introduction.

“S-sorry about that. What I meant to say is that my name is-”

“Pretty boy!”

Both of their heads swiveled towards the sound, searching for the source, before landing on a man across the room.

“Hotch needs us in the briefing room. Stop flirting with the new girl and get your ass in here!” They watched him walk away chuckling before turning back to each other.

“Pretty boy huh? Well I guess it’s fitting, I mean you do have really nice cheekbones and dimples. And your eyes are kind of beautiful. Not that I ummmm-not that I think you’re beautiful or anything, it’s just uhhh...um...I’m gonna stop talking now.” Spencer could feel the blush returning to his features, watching the same happen to her, from the frenzied rambling that had just poured from her lips, but he found it endearing on her and quite honestly, really adorable. 

“I-uh I gotta go, you know, um deal with that, but it was very nice meeting you”, he sputtered out, sending a small wave in her direction. She shyly giggled at his nervousness which was surely reflected on her end as well. “See ya around Reid Doctor Spencer.”

“Spencer. It’s um-it’s Spencer.”

“Spencer”, she repeated back softly, nodding him off with a gentle smile on her face.

~~~

Spencer Reid was in love. The longer she was around him the more he realized he was completely and utterly in love with her, all of her. She was perfect in his eyes, intelligent, funny, a bit nerdy and just so adorable. The problem was just that he had absolutely no idea how to tell her how he felt. He had never really been the type to express his feelings to someone, especially to a girl as beautiful as Y/n. 

The female species wasn’t exactly his strong suit and he was very aware of that fact, painfully aware. However, he stayed hopeful that someday soon he’d muster up the courage to express his affinity for her. Realizing that today was definitely not that day, Spencer tried to push his conflict to the back of his brain so he could try to get some work done. Not before noticing that Y/n was slightly late, though.

Less than a minute after he noticed her absence, she came bursting into the bullpen with the largest grin adorning her features, an obvious pep in her step. Spencer watched as she skipped over to the rest of the team who were gathered around Emily’s desk, close enough where he could pretty much hear the majority of the words exchanged and profile their reactions.

He heard JJ ask what was making her so chipper this morning, and he chuckled softly to himself as he heard her immediately start rambling about whatever had her so elated. 

“Oh my god guys, you’ll never believe it! So a couple of weeks ago a good friend of mine asked me to help her with her website, because well...tech geek and all, so I got to mess around with all the software and went crazy! I was able to fiddle with the source code a bit and authorize a super high CRO and SEO to get her website out there. Not to mention all the growth hacking I was able to curate! Cool right?”

Y/n stopped to take a breath and noticed that the entirety of the team was staring at her with vacant expressions on their faces. She looked on with widened eyes as she asked, “What?”

“CRO?”, JJ questioned. Morgan awkwardly chuckled out a similar questioning tone, “SEO?” Of course that left Emily to bring up the rear. “Did I hear growth hacking in there?”

Her face scrunched up in confusion at all the questions that had just been hurled her way so suddenly. “Huh?”

“Baby girl we have absolutely no idea what any of the things you just mentioned are or what they do”, Morgan explained with a sympathetic smile on his face, as the other members nodded in agreement.

Spencer watched as Y/n’s face quickly morphed into one of utter disappointment at the knowledge that her colleagues had no clue what she was going on about. She had seemed so excited when she entered the bullpen earlier so he assumed she was probably very much looking forward to getting to talk all about it with her friends.

“Oh...that’s ok. Sorry for bothering you guys, sometimes I just get a little too excited and tend to ramble. I’ll um-I’ll talk to you guys later.” Y/n flashed them a small smile before making her way over to her desk, situated across the room near Spencer. 

“Hey Spence”, she shyly waved as she passed, a deflated look on her face. Trying to lift her spirits at least a little, he returned her gesture with a huge grin and wave, happy to see her smile brighten a bit at his enthusiasm. 

Once she was seated and facing away from him, he immediately found himself feeling overwhelmingly upset over her predicament. He hated seeing her look so defeated and down, she didn’t deserve to ever feel like that. She was simply too angelic for those kinds of feelings to permeate her mind. 

Spencer wished more than anything that he knew what she was talking about so she could go to him. He’d let her ramble to him for hours on end if it meant he could listen to her melodic voice and see her beautiful face up close. 

All of sudden Spencer slapped his hand against his head and groaned, “Of course you dipshit”, before pulling up a couple tabs on his computer.

For the next few hours his work was forgotten as he studied and learned pretty much everything there was to know about technical analysis and the programming that Y/n seemed so ecstatic about, anxious to give her, at last, a companion to discuss her passion with. 

~~~

“See you later Reid!”

Spencer’s head snapped up as he heard the people around him saying their goodbyes and goodnights, realizing that he had been distracted by his screen the entire day and that it was already time to go home. He watched as his friends walked out together, all laughing about something that Morgan had said, before noticing movement in the corner of his eye. 

As he turned his head he noticed that the only person who was still there in the bullpen with him was Y/n, and she was staring at the posse that had just exited the room, a longing look plastered across her features that broke his heart. Taking a deep breath and deciding it was now or never, he rose up from his seated position and made his way over to her, hoping that he had learned enough to lighten her mood.

“Hey there!”, he exclaimed when he had found himself right behind her. As soon as the words started escaping his lips, she jumped in her seat, her hand flying to her heart.

“Jesus Christ Spence! You scared the complete shit out of me!”

Chuckling softly at her overreactive response, he moved to sit on her desk, facing her heavily breathing sitting figure. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw you that you were still here and was wondering why you hadn’t left with everyone else?” She quickly looked down and blushed at his questioning, embarrassed of her answer.

“Oh I-um they just looked like they were having a lot of fun and I didn’t really want to interrupt so I thought I’d stay back for a little bit to-uh finish up some stuff.” Once she finished her unconvincing explanation, Spencer leaned back a bit and studied her. While this was something he found himself doing often, always getting distracted by her spectacular figure, he focused on her body language more than anything, noticing the dark circles underneath her eyes.

“Y/n, you look absolutely exhausted. Have you even been sleeping lately?”, he asked, genuine concern laced within his words.

“Y-yeah I haven’t really. I’ve kind of been pretty preoccupied in the last few days helping out a friend. It’s really fun, but it’s also very time consuming”, she stuttered out, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Oh right! I had heard you mention that earlier today! That must be awesome getting to basically build your own website!”

“I swear I feel like a kid in a candy store doing that kind of stuff. I just find it so relaxing and exciting at the same time!”

“I totally get it. I was really impressed with how well you were able to manipulate the site’s conversion rate optimization-did you know that a site’s CRO and SEO are considered as two of the most essential tools required to run a thriving website or online business. It’s actually astounding how much the results differ between competition depending on their efficiency.”

All Y/n could do, while Spencer rambled on and on about her most passionate subjects, was sit there in complete awe. The sound of the tech-geeky words that spilled from his beautiful lips was simply orgasmic. Never had she met someone who seemed as enthused as her when it came to all her technical endeavors, and she didn’t know exactly how to react. Her biggest crush on the entire planet was sitting in front of her spouting off facts like they were going out of style.

However, amidst all the wonder that circulated through her being, confusion washed over her.

“Wait hold up! What’s going on Spence?”

“Uhhh, what do you mean?”, he questioned shyly, a blush coating his face.

Narrowing her eyes at him she expanded her questioning. “I’ve known you for months now and I can guarantee I have never once heard you mention anything even remotely technical. In fact I’ve heard you explain time and time again how confused you are by the complexities of the simplest of technology. Spill, pretty boy”, she demanded, maintaining eye contact with him.

Figuring out that he had been caught, he shyly lowered his head as the blush on his face deepened, embarrassment coursing through his veins. “I-I noticed how excited you were this morning when you came parading into the office, the wide grin that adorned your face, the skip in your step. And I heard you ramble on and on about your friend’s website and you just seemed so damn happy and then they basically just shut you down right away because they didn’t understand and I-uh I hated seeing you like that and wanted you to have someone to talk to. So I spent all day today researching and learning so you could have someone to talk to, so you wouldn’t feel alone. I-I’m sorry if that’s creepy or if it’s too-”

Spencer was suddenly cut off mid-sentence as lips smashed against his own, effectively shutting him up. His eyes immediately widened at the bold action, before he melted into the kiss, desperately responding to her fervent advances with an equal passion. 

Y/n moaned into his mouth as his tongue probed at her wet lips, begging for entry. The feeling of their tongues entangling was euphoric and they both wanted, needed more. Spencer gently grabbed her and, turning so they were both facing it, lifted her onto the desk and stood between her legs. As the kiss deepened, their hands began to tear at each other’s clothing, Y/n hastily undoing his tie and dress shirt as he all but ripped off her blouse, groaning at the sight. 

“God Y/n you’re so fucking beautiful.” He watched her eyes roll back into her head at his words as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even closer. “Please Spence, I need you. I need you so much baby.” His eyes sparkled at her desperate plea, mirroring her need wholeheartedly.

Backing away slightly he unzipped her skirt and dragged it down her legs along with her panties, quickly reaching up to also unclasp her bra. “You’ve got me baby, you’ve got me.”

She surged forward and reconnected their lips, her hands weaving their way into his hair and tugging hard. The groan that escaped his throat lit her body on fire and further ignited her need for the man in front of her. His hands, that had been cupping her face, drifted downward stooping to briefly toy with her breasts before reaching his intended destination.

She moaned loud and deep as his hands cupped her sex, gently rubbing his fingers against her. He could feel her buck her hips slightly, searching for more. Receiving the message loud and clear, he inserted his pointer finger into her, reveling in the throaty groans that poured from her lips. As he added more digits into her and gently rubbed her clit, their lips moved rapidly against each other.

Y/n needed more, letting her hands lower to the obvious bulge that was straining against his slacks, palming him incessantly. Moaning hoarsely, he pulled away and quickly undid his pants, desperate for some sort of relief. As he stepped out of his slacks and boxers, he watched her eyes widen as they took in the sight in front of her.

“Woah.” He nervously chuckled at her response.

“Uh t-thanks?”

Giggling at his uncertainty she reached out and dragged him in once again, feeling his swollen tip bump against her, both of them moaning at the euphoric feeling. Realizing how fast things had moved, he pulled back slightly to search her eyes. “Are you sure baby?”

Falling even more in love with him, her smile widened as she nodded. “I am so very sure Spence. I-I love you.” She watched the grin that spread across his face at her confession.

“God Y/n, I love you so fucking much.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he lined himself up at her entrance and swiftly thrusted into her dripping heat. The overwhelming feeling caused both of them to let out matching groans of pleasure, Y/n latching onto Spencer and wrapping her arms around his shoulders to get a grip. Once he was sure she was ok, he started slowly thrusting in and out of her, soon setting a steady pace.

“Oh Spencer! You feel so perfect inside of me! So, so good!”, you exclaimed, cries of pleasure leaving your mouth.

“Baby you’re so warm and tight around me, I love you so much!” 

“I love you t-too!”

He gradually increased his already brutal thrusts, Y/n feeling herself fastly approaching the brink of ecstasy at the hands of the resident genius. Leaning back on her elbows, Spencer used the opportunity to pound even harder into her wanting body, his own release just around the corner. 

“Are you going to cum for me pretty girl?” She couldn’t control herself after hearing his dirty words, unaware that he was capable of such a thing, feeling her eyes roll back once again. She nodded fervently, about to crash over the edge. All rational thought was out the window once his fingers found her throbbing clit, rubbing incessantly, catapulting her into her climax, her pussy clenching around his rigid cock as she came.

“Oh my god Spencer!”

Her reactions were simply too much for him, groaning and moaning uncontrollably, finding his thrusts sputtering out of control as his cock twitched deep inside of her, quickly reaching his highly anticipated orgasm. She felt his seed fill her up completely as he panted out her name over and over again, both of them coming down from their highs, breathing deeply.

“Wow. Fucking wow,” she blissfully sung, a wide grin coating her lips.

“Y/n, baby, that was insane. You’re insane.”

He helped her off the desk so they could redress and finally leave the office, noticing how late it had gotten. They couldn’t help themselves from sending each other giddy smiles as they put on their clothes and eventually made their way down to their respective cars. 

Neither one of them seemed ready to leave each other just yet, some unspoken feeling crackling in the air between them. Taking the initiative, Y/n leaned forward, gently connecting their lips in a kiss that held the same passion from earlier, but was much more relaxed and romantic. Pulling back after a few moments, Y/n’s eyes sparkled up at Spencer’s as she spoke.

“Spence, what you did earlier...no one’s ever done something like that for me. You have no idea how much it means to me that you would go out of your way just to make me feel comfortable and happy.”

“Y/n, I promise you I wanted to wholeheartedly. Nothing matters more to me than your happiness. I just-I just love you so damn much. I think I have since you walked in and dropped all your shit on the floor”, he said chuckling. 

“Heyyyy, that was one time jerk”, she defended, a matching chuckle evident in her voice. “But I know what you mean. I think I’ve loved you since you introduced yourself as Reid Doctor Spencer, that memory will forever be embedded in my mind.” She couldn’t stop the light giggle that fell from her lips at the thought of their first meeting.

Meeting her eyes, suddenly a bit shy, he gently cupped her face, “What if, from now on, I introduced myself as your boyfriend?”, he asked cautiously, anxiously waiting to see how she reacted to his proposition. Instead of answering right away she jumped forward, throwing her arms around his neck and connecting their lips once more.

“I would love nothing more, my gorgeously intelligent boyfriend.”

Taglist: @hopebaker​ @pastathighs​ @psychedellic-phase​ @gloryekaterina​ @sleepysnapesnake​ @racharr​ @etherealgubler @furiouspartyrebelhoagie​ @andiebeaword​ @liaabsurd​ @cielo1984​ @starkeybaby​ @victomizedbyreginageorge​ @rainsong01​ @moonlight-jukebox​ @gretaamyk​ @httpnxtt​ @rachelxwayne​ @watermelonstyl​ @goldnratio​ @peakyblinderficrecs @cheyxminds​

[gallavictorious]

Gallavich Week Day 5: Fix-It / Rewrite

Right, so fix-its aren’t so much my jam, but there is this one weird, weird, weird thing that I’ve (so far) been unable to meta into any sort of sense. Namely, Mickey looking like that in season 11 while apparently not working out. It’s just… uh… he… what? At one point I hypothesized that he’s been bitten by a radioactive spider or the like, leaving him magically super buff, and to be honest, that’s still the most reasonable explanation I can think of, soooo…

Today I'm back at my nonsense to bring you, everyone and especially our dear @gallavichthings, 2,711 Very Serious words about Mickey being a secret superhero. Well. Except for the hero bit.

Read it below or on AO3.

---

In Which Mickey Milkovich Does Not Save the World

Afterwards, he would always refer to it as the radioactive motherfucker bug from hell, but the truth is that Mickey never saw the thing that got him.

He was going about his business (namely poking around the Gallagher basement for any forgotten shit he could sell for beer money now that all the cash from the wedding had been surreptitiously replaced with I.O.U:s) when he felt a sudden, sharp pain just above his ankle. Cursing up a storm, he desperately waved his foot around and lost his balance and stumbled straight into one of the many piles of boxes that littered the basement. By the time he was back on his feet whatever creature that had dug its nasty little teeth/pincers/claws into his tender flesh had scurried off, leaving Mickey with a throbbing ache and a halfway impressive puncture wound on his left leg.

Muttering darkly about fucking Gallaghers being so used Frank they didn’t know how to keep goddamned monster vermin out of their shitty house Mickey limped up the stairs to pour some Jamison on the wound, and then pour some down his throat because he had the bottle out already so he might as well. He borrowed one of Franny’s colourful pirate-patterned band-aids, and when his nosy as fuck ex-EMT of a husband asked about it later that evening Mickey said he’d dropped a can on his foot, it’s just a scratch, man, no you don’t need to take a look at it, just put your fingers back in my ass, please.

Mickey didn’t make a habit of lying to Ian, but he figured that telling the truth would lead to all sorts of questions about why he was in the basement and having to come up with plausible explanation for that when he should just be focusing on getting railed wasn’t part of his plans for the evening. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to Ian, who’d been getting so worked up over money lately, to distract him with that sort of unimportant stuff while they were banging. Mickey was a considerate spouse.

Thankfully, Ian dropped the subject and proceeded to do his husbandly duty. Mickey went to sleep deeply satisfied.

He was almost as satisfied the next morning when he woke up to realize that the pain in his leg was gone, as were all traces of the wound itself. Mickey had always healed pretty fast, but this was quick enough to have him questioning whether or not he’d really been bitten/stung/whatever at all. Maybe he’d had more beers than he thought and imagined the whole thing… ?

It didn’t really matter, and if that had been the whole of it Mickey was likely to soon have forgotten all about the radioactive motherfucker bug from hell. However, in the next few weeks he started noticing stuff, weird stuff. For instance, it wasn’t just the (possibly imagined) bite/sting that healed far more quickly than normal; it was all the little cuts and scrapes he tended to acquire. A big bruise from running into the table while playing with Franny; faded to nothing the next morning. A cut from the razor; gone within the hour. For the first time he could remember, Mickey looked at his naked body in the mirror and saw not one single wound (though there were still scars aplenty). It wasn’t a bad thing, per se, but it was weird.

Then there was that thing with his muscles. Mickey had been in decent shape for most of his life and whenever he got locked up for extended periods of time he made a habit of hitting the gym on the regular. Really wasn’t much else to do in the joint, and having a decent bulk reminded the other inmates that you weren’t someone they could push around; letting people know that you could beat the shit out of them often meant you didn’t have to actually do it, which saved everyone a lot of time and energy and trips to the prison quack. But on the outside, exercise wasn’t very high on Mickey’s list of priorities, meaning he tended to slim down a bit after a while in freedom.

Not now, though. Almost a year after being out of prison, and he was still as built as ever; if anything he seemed to be developing more muscles, in spite rarely engaging in anything more taxing than vigorous fucking. (Okay, so there was a lot of vigorous fucking, but still. If anyone ought to be building their biceps from the sex they were having, it should be Ian.)

Mickey didn’t mind being inexplicably ripped, though. He felt great, looked great – and Ian seemed to be pretty into it, too. Then again, Ian seemed to be pretty into Mickey whether he wore dirty clothes, sported a beard, sported a dress, or hadn’t showered in a week, so maybe that wasn’t saying a lot.

But even given all that, maybe Mickey still wouldn’t have thought too much about it (he was, after all, very busy being on his honeymoon, which required lots of determined sleep-ins, dedicated beer-drinking, and – obviously – lots and lots of banging) if there hadn’t one day come a knock on the front door. At first he ignored itm in the hopes that someone else would get it, but when it became apparent that a, he was alone in the house, and b, whoever was at the door wasn’t giving up anytime soon, he grabbed the family baseball bat (even big soft ass Larry would react to Mickey opening the door with an extremely illegal gun in hand) and went to answer the insistent knocking.

Outside stood two women, looking an unsettling mix of sober and apprehensive and eager. One of them reminded him vaguely of Angie Zago; the other was taller and darker and quite possibly brooding.

“Can I help you?” he demanded, not quite as rudely as he might have. He didn’t think they were social workers, but one never knew; they’d been checking up on Debbie and Franny ever since Debbie pleaded guilty to statutory rape.

“Mr. Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich?” Not-Angie inquired in a polite sort of tremble. 

“Who’s asking?” Mickey demanded, feeling a little thrown by the use of his full name. The only people who pulled that out was law enforcement, and neither of these ladies had that feel about them. Especially since they seemed to be… excited to meet him, which wasn’t a reaction Mickey was used to getting. Particularly not from ladies looking like they ought to be out collecting for the fucking Red Cross.

They better not be asking for donations for the Red Cross.

“I’m Tania and this is Dreamweaver,” Not-Angie said. “Can we come in? It’s really best if we talk in private.”

Mickey didn’t move. “Dreamweaver? You kick your mama too many times in the kidneys before you were born or something?”

The women glanced uncertainly at each other. “Mr. Milkovich,” the one improbably called Dreamweaver began, but Mickey cut her off:

“You with the police?”

They quickly shook their heads. “No, we— “

“You here to give me money?”

“No, you see, it’s— “

“Okay, thank you, bye.” But as he moved to close the door, Tania – displaying more spunk than he’d have given her credit for – took a step forward and blocked the entrance.

“Have you been experiencing any strange body phenomena lately, Mr. Milkovich?” she blurted. “Wounds healing very quickly, perhaps, or increased muscle mass?”

Mickey stilled, eyes darting between the two women. Small, small smiles on their faces now, as if they knew they had him. There was a hint of hunger to those smiles, making Mickey feel uncharacteristically uncomfortable. The urge to push Tania back and slam the door shut was strong, but…

“Fine,” he said at long last. “Come on in.”

They better not be fucking cannibals either.

---

They called themselves The Guardians, and they wanted him to save the world.

Mickey asked what numbers they were talking and, after getting bored of their uncomprehending stares, clarified: “How much is it gonna pay? What’s my cut?”

Dreamweaver frowned. “You mean… money? As in a… salary?”

“Yeah, sure. What’s my salary?”

“Mr. Milkovich, saving the world is a higher calling and a duty, it’s not something that– “

“Uh-huh. So, just to be clear, you’re not gonna pay me?”

They weren’t. Mickey laughed in their faces, stood from the couch, and told them bye and good luck with that and don’t let the door hit ya on the way out.

They reasoned with him. They pleaded. They explained, again and again, that after the evil society USCH destroyed The Guardian’s headquarters in a devastating attack, the two of them–and Mickey–was the only thing standing between the world and utter destruction. Surely, he must understand that it was nothing less than Fate that had brought the one remaining Bestower Bot into the Gallagher basement and his path? Admittedly, injecting Mickey with the bio enhancer might have been the result of a malfunction – Tania and Dreamweaver had found the bot dead down the street a couple of nights ago – but didn’t he see that he had been called to serve as a warrior in the fight against evil?

“Yeah, no thanks,” Mickey told them, and then he picked up the bat and waved it around until they took the hint and left.

When Ian returned home a few hours later, Mickey carefully didn’t mention the curious visit or any of what Tania and Dreamweaver had told him. Ian was pretty into saving people and had all these lame ideas about service and honor, and Mickey found it more likely than not that his husband would both be upset that Mickey, rather than Ian himself, had been called as a warrior (it’d be Lip and West Point all over again, Mickey just knew it), and demand that Mickey answer the call and run off like some loon to get himself killed by evil technomancers.

Mickey didn’t particularly feel like dying and he didn’t like the idea of hurting his husband’s feelings either, so he kept his mouth shut and skillfully derailed all of Ian’s attempts at asking about his day by giving him a blow job, teasing him about being a grunt, and allowing himself to be wrestled to the floor when Ian decided he’d had enough of teasing. It was a good evening.

As he lay in bed that night, back against Ian’s chest and with those strong arms wrapped around him, Mickey wondered if it would be worth risking Ian’s reaction by going public. Okay, Tania and Dreamweaver had mentioned how he’d probably gotten a pretty small dose of the bio-whatever-the-fuck, lending him nothing more exciting than enduring muscle mass and enhanced healing, but that should probably be enough to turn him into a cut above the rest, right? He could hire himself out to the highest bidder and make a fortune doing private security or collections or stuff like that. Fuck, he’d even consider taking on jobs for The Guardians, if they just agreed to pay him.

It was a fun thought to play with, but in the end a long life in the shadows made Mickey wary of putting himself out there like that. Besides, he’d seen enough movies to know that it’d probably wouldn’t be long before he mysteriously disappeared to some secret government facility to be experimented on. He’d had enough of the state’s hospitality to last him a lifetime, so thanks, but no fucking thanks.

And that could have been it. Should have been it, but of course Tania and Dreamweaver wouldn’t leave well enough alone. They started showing up at the Gallagher house at all hours, whenever they knew they could get Mickey alone. They accosted him on the way to the Alibi, they sat down next to him on the L, and they left him pictures of puppies with little notes saying stuff like “Only YOU can SAVE him from BURNING. Have a HEART”.

It was exhausting. Fearing the retribution of the cartel hadn’t anything on fearing seeing Tania and Dreamweaver’s disappointed-yet-still-somehow-hopeful-and-terribly-determined faces appear in a crowd, or round a corner, or on the porch when he went out for his evening smoke.

Mickey began to lose sleep. He’d spend the nights tossing and turning, which led to him staying in bed half the day to catch up on much needed rest, and he was often so tired he couldn’t bring himself to put on proper clothes or go outside the door the whole day. 

Ian was on his ass about getting a job; he didn’t get that Mickey had a job, and that job was not getting lured into sacrificing his life for the greater good. If Ian didn’t like the prospects of being a prison widow, how offensive wouldn’t he find the prospect of being an actual widower, after his husband got blown to bits by some big bad villain?

It got to the point of Ian initiating a sex strike to force Mickey to get “a real job”, which struck Mickey as really fucking unfair, considering how all he was trying to do was make sure Ian even had a husband to refuse to fuck.

Enough was enough. Something had to be done. Fortunately for Mickey – and unfortunately for Tania and Dreamweaver – Mickey had a guy for everything. As annoying as The Guardians were, Mickey didn’t have the heart to see them killed, but he figured that having them kidnapped and shipped off to some sweatshop on the other side of the world would serve the same purpose. He felt a little bad about it, sure, but he had given them plenty of chances to fuck off. Not his fault they couldn’t respect a fucking boundary.

Mickey called Johnny, told him the score, and a few night later Johnny called Mickey to tell him it was done.

It was done. Over. Mickey would finally be able go about his life in peace again, giving all his attention to his husband and doing his outmost to make him the happiest man alive every single day, even when Ian was annoying as hell and started asking pointless fucking questions about how Mickey was in such great shape even though he never did as much as one single curl up.

I see. So… you’re telling me that you have secret superpowers.

Yeah. Except, not actually secret anymore. ‘Cause, you know, you told me we shouldn’t have secrets.

… yeah, that was three months ago.

Guess it must have slipped my mind, huh.

Must have. But let me get this straight: you couldn’t get a real job because you were busy dodging secret agents, and your muscles are the result of you getting bitten by some magic robot—

Radioactive motherfucker bug from hell.

—and not you sneaking down to the basement to do weights and cardio almost every day?

… oh.

Yeah, oh. Carl told me about it, asshole. He noticed you using some of the stuff down there. Don’t get why you’d wanna keep that a secret though?

…

Mick. We have to be honest with each other, remember?

Jesus Christ, I don’t know, okay? I don’t know.

Okay.

Guess the first time was back when you had that dip a couple of months after the wedding. Few times after that, if we had a fight or whatever and I needed to let off some steam. Then you started working and sometimes I got bored watching TV all day but you were all mopey about your shitty job and me not having any and you have this thing about your body—

I don’t have a thing about my body.

­—so I didn’t really wanna rub your face in me having all that time to work out when you could barely squeeze in dozen push-ups in the evening. And I guess I didn’t really want anyone to know that I… cared, or whatever.

Cared? About what? Being healthy? Looking good? Being strong?

Whatever, man, I told I don’t fucking know. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, ‘cause it was a radioactive motherfucker bug from hell that did it.

Of course it was. Come here. Show me what that bio enhanced body of yours can do.

---

Ahahahahahaha, would you look at that. I tried to meta it anyway. 😭😭😭

You might reasonably ask about Mickey’s visit to Kev Fit – how does that fit? WELL, I rather imagine that whatever Mickey does in that basement is enough to keep him fit but still not SUPER hardcore? So when he starts worrying about Ian thinking him weaker than, he decides to take it up a notch and do it properly in a real(ish) gym? And his comment about “not remembering how much working out sucks” is part of the whole “not wanting anyone to know this is something I care to do on the regular”… Yeah, it’s pretty weak. All in all, I’d say the radioactive motherfucker bug from hell is still our best bet. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This is probably the last time I have one of them tell the other a story this week, but I make no promises. These little ficlets don’t tend to go as planned. (Ha! She said, as if there was a plan to begin with. Oh, well. I guess it’s working out so far.)

[journalxxx]

Green Light

Toshinori Yagi had never been much of an avid reader.

In his youth, bursting with energy and good intentions as he was, the mere act of standing still in any one place felt like torture. There were places to be, people to save, villains to track down, not to mention training. Literary and artistic pursuits were valuable and commendable, but Toshinori himself preferred leaving them to others, while he himself could fulfil the task of ensuring that such talented individuals could let their inspiration bloom in a safe and hospitable society. Even in the latest years, when the burden of heroic activities weighed too much on his wrecked body to allow him more than a handful of work hours per day, he hadn't quite managed to find a taste for books, and had filled his sadly abundant downtime with movies instead.

Yet, that evening, a long-forgotten memory of literary nature sprang to his mind. David Shield, his brilliant wingman from the days spent in America after graduating, had been a proper bookworm - a strangely action-inclined one, but a bookworm nonetheless, and his love for novels was second only to his overwhelming passion for science and engineering. He used to chat with his Japanese friend about his favorite reads, and Toshinori recalled a bit of a heated rant about The Great Gatsby. A green light, twinkling in the darkness, a visible reminder of human ambition and strife for greatness, even a metaphor for the great American dream itself. A beacon of hope that stole one's gaze and breath, both out of satisfaction and frustration. Toshinori was reminded of that conversation, that evening, as his eyes followed the electric green light zooming around in the darkening sky, hopping over and between buildings with astonishing speed, closer and closer.

"You hurt?" Toshinori asked, as soon as Midoriya landed, after decelerating with a couple of hops and stopping precisely next to him.

"I'm... all right." The hooded figure replied, ever so slightly out of breath because of the effort, or maybe because of the dust cloud he'd raised.

"Your arms and legs?"

Midoriya had developed a worrying tolerance to pain in the last year and his definition of 'injury' had shifted accordingly, so Toshinori couldn't help ascertaining his student's safety to the point of redundancy. His insistence was met with a confident eyes as the boy uncovered his face and flexed his fingers, proving that the latest addition to his combat equipment had worked as intended. Toshinori had warned him early on about the dangers of relying too much on gauntlets, braces and assorted devices, and there had been no signs of him having forgotten about that. Still, he reminded him once more of the importance of avoiding wounds and shattered bones in the current circumstances. Midoriya accepted his mentor's words without a trace of annoyance, as always.

Toshinori's mobile rang. It was Hawks, at it again with his unrequested commentary on the operation. Midoriya was gone with a giant leap before Toshinori could complete two sentences. He politely deflected his colleague's nagging as the dust settled anew. Lots of dust, but not a single mark or crack on the asphalt touched by Midoriya's feet. The corners of Toshinori's lips curved upwards. Perfect control.

Very few things in his life had terrified All Might - the unwavering, the unflinching, the indefatigable All Might - as much as the sight of black tendrils sprouting uncontrollably from his student's hand during class training. Those black tendrils that looked so strikingly similar to his nemesis' own Rivets, so much that they had made him fear that All For One somehow, in some wretched, unfathomable way, had manifested on the spot, or even possessed Midoriya himself, and was ready to destroy, stab, maul every single one of the budding heroes right before his eyes. In hindsight, he could only feel shame at the memory of his behaviour during that emergency. He could only stutter vague and panicking warnings during those dreadful minutes, while Aizawa and Vlad had assessed the situation with the proper detachment.

The aftermath of the event had been deeply confusing. A new quirk, inherited from one of the predecessors? The predecessors themselves, now able to interact with Modoriya's mind? Toshinori had found himself at a loss. He was supposed to guide his student to the fullest understanding of his power, but those developments were completely unheard of. He offered the boy his most confident smile and reassurements, for they were what he needed, but privately... he worried. He worried very much. And before he knew it, the Paranormal Liberation war had left his precious successor a heap of broken limbs and regrets.

And then Midoriya had mastered Black Whip. And Float. And Danger Sense. And Smokescreen. All within few months. All with virtually no guidance (except from the several entities dwelling in One For All, probably).

'Unbelievable' didn't even begin to describe the scope of that feat. Toshinori had watched in sheer awe his pupil bounce back from the tragedy with renewed vigor, purpose and skill. He had willingly shouldered responsibilities that no one would have forced even on a professional hero and now here he was, acting as the bait for the most dangerous villain in the world, while also saving innocents in the process. As it turned out, the new wielder of One For All was managing just fine.

Ostensibly, at least.

Twenty-seven hours later, it started raining. The dull sound of the raindrops hitting the car hood and the regular beeping of Midoriya's GPS lulled Toshinori into another bout of nostalgia as he drove along the main street. It happened more and more often lately, maybe he was really starting to get old. The beaming smile of the boy upon receiving his lunchbox had warmed Toshinori's heart, but it had also made him wonder... Had he been as appreciative towards Nighteye in the past? He had never neglected to thank his sidekick for his invaluable support (especially on the bureaucratic side of things), but... Had he really put his whole heart into it? Had he really conveyed the same honest thankfulness he saw in young Midoriya's eyes whenever Toshinori handed him a meal, or checked his equipment, or removed a bystander from a tricky situation? One thing was certain, and that was that he hadn't been nearly as mindful of his sidekick's warnings back then. Maybe, if he had...

Well. No point in dwelling on the past. He had given his apologies, he had said his goodbyes. He'd have to content himself with those. What mattered now was helping Midoriya, in any way he could. His arguable teaching privileges had practically disappeared since Midoriya had started dealing with new, never-before-manifested traits of One For All. Still, competent and timely support was a blessing even for the mightiest of heroes, and Toshinori would be damned if he didn't try his hardest to fill that spot. He'd-

The laptop gave a louder beep, and then silence. The green dot pointing at Midoriya's position disappeared. Toshinori cursed and stepped on the gas. He took notice, for the briefest fraction of a second, of the cylindrical object bouncing towards his car, until it was close enough to realize-

There was a flash, a violent impact, and then nothing.

There was darkness. And pain. His head throbbed horrendously, and he struggled to string together any thoughts. There was liquid trickling down his face, some cold and some warm. He was drenched, and cold, and very nauseous. He was standing vertically, but not by his own will. He felt like a coat hanging from a rack. There were voices, one extremely close, shouting so loudly that it made him whince. He couldn't seem to make out the words. There was a much farther scream-

He recognised it. With a disproportionate effort, he opened his eyes. There it was, the familiar green glow. The boy, sizzling with energy, stood out like a mystic vision in the darkness. He looked furious, and ready to sprint towards him.

But he was waiting. Waiting for an opening, Toshinori realized, an opening that whoever was jerking the collar of his jacket didn't seem to offer. Toshinori didn't feel capable of summoning enough balance or coordination to move, let alone put up a fight, but could he provide a distraction anyway? Maybe. Yes. Yes, he could.

Without thinking twice, he flexed every single muscle in his body, and shouted. He shouted only to add to the surprise effect at first, then he kept going because it really fucking hurt. But it worked. The sudden increase of his body mass threw the mysterious assailant off balance, and he was dropped on the ground. Instantly, a powerful air blast signalled Midoriya's attack, and then all hell broke loose. Feeling as if each of his limbs had caught fire, wrecked by a violent coughing fit, Toshinori could only squirm on the spot as he felt vicious blows landing in his vicinity and on the surrounding buildings, more screams and undefined explosions, until a stronger gust of wind lifted his shrunk form in the air and sent him flying like ragdoll. His back hit something much harder than him, and darkness descended again.

There was darkness. Complete, impenetrable, all-encompassing. He had no pain, no form, no body. Nothingness stretched uninterrupted in all directions. He was nothing and there was nothing, save for the small crowd of entities not farm from him. He listened.

"...coordination. It had to be planned carefully to avoid all the precautions you took. You bear no guilt of carelessness." A quiet voice said. There was barely any inflection to its tone.

"It wasn't enough!" The green voice replied, upset. Unlike the others, this one had a head, though only the back of it was visible. "It could have gone a lot worse! He could have-"

"Pull yourself together, brat!" A rough voice scolded. "This isn't anything worth sobbing about. Start thinking about how not to make it happen again instead. I swear, you should be used to this sort of thing right now..."

"Not everyone has experienced this level of social instability and violence in their lives since such a young age, Banjo. It takes time to adapt." Another voice said. A kind voice. A woman's voice. He... knew that voice...

"But what else can I do?!" The green one interjected. "I'm training as fast as I can, I'm working on strength and control, I can use more quirks... We've teamed up with the three top heroes in the country and it still isn't enough...!"

"You cannot expect this war to go like a carefully planned game of chess. There will be mistakes, accidents and bad luck. There will be more blood spilled, on both sides. The sooner you accept it, the sooner you will start making some real progress."

" Please, let's not-"

"I will NOT accept it! I won't accept that anyone- especially not him-" The green one boomed and turned to point at him. He saw his face and his tear-stained cheeks, he met his big, bright eyes-

His eyes snapped open.

He heard a gasp, steps, then Midoriya's floating head entered his field of vision.

"All Might! Are you okay?"

He blinked. It was still dark but nowhere near... He could see a ceiling now. He tried turning his head to the side, but a powerful throb coursing all over his skull stopped him. He shut his eyes with a groan and brought a hand to his head, finding layers of bandages in the way.

"Ngh... kid... " Toshinori managed. "Where...?"

"The basement in Daina. We brought you here after we captured the villains. Do you remember?"

He remembered something. Driving, and the glint of the granade right outside his windshield... after that, nothing.

He finally managed to open his eyes. The messy, familiar layout of workbench, cot, monitors, assorted devices and cooking appliances of the hideout was a welcome sight that grounded him a little more.

"I thought we should bring you to a hospital, but Hawks was sure you only had a mild concussion." Midoriya continued.

Right. The car had probably protected him from the brunt of the blast. Hawks himself had provided them with that particular vehicle, describing it as 'practically a tank, but faster'. Evidently he wasn't just overselling it.

"Good. Hospitals are the last places we need to be right now." Toshinori knew that their plan of using Midoriya as bait could fail in a million different ways. Primarily because of his pupil's intense desire to protect... well, anyone. His schoolmates were well-guarded, his mother was well-guarded, but the potential victims were countless. All For One could easily take any random hospital in the country as a hostage and demand Midoriya to hand himself in in exchange for the patients' safety, for example. There was really no need to give him ideas and hang a big, red target on a specific one by putting a wounded All Might in it.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Midoriya asked. "Hawks will send someone over if you need better treatment-"

"I'm fine, don't worry." Surprisingly fine, all things considered. Now that his head was clearing, Toshinori realized the few pangs he felt here and there were way more manageable that he had any right to hope. No doubt he'd be missing that temporary bliss as soon as the painkillers wore out. "And you?"

"Just a few scratches. Nothing debilitating." Toshinori gave him a good once-over. The kid didn't seem to slouch or hold himself stiffly, which was a huge relief. His expression was somewhat strained though. "You've been out for a while. Do you think you can eat something?"

"Ngh. Not sure I can stomach much at the moment."

"Some tea, at least?" The kid wasn't even trying to hide his concern, bless him.

"How long was I out for, exactly?"

"Seven hours."

Mh, maybe he should gulp down something. "...Tea it is, then." Toshinori conceded with a sigh, and Midoriya moved away to busy himself with the pot.

Toshinori wasn't especially fond of describing the several, thought-provoking ways in which his bodily functions had been messed up by All For One's desperate retaliation, but living in close quarters with Midoriya had outed them despite his best efforts. The boy had seemed especially distraught to hear of his eating habits, for some obscure reason. Lacking a stomach to store and properly digest food, Toshinori had to stick to a rigorous habit of six to eight meals a day, scheduled every two or three hours, paying a certain attention to the size and composition of each portion. Accidentally overworking his intestine with an excessive meal would lead to a range of unpleasant consequences, which went beyond a simple rush to the toilet. On top of that, he also had to actively remember to eat. Turns out that the stomach is the major organ creating the sense of hunger and fullness and, without one, one could easily forget about eating altogether, or overdo it without noticing. And all this, with the addition of some vitamin supplements, had the effect of keeping him just well-fed enough to grant him his haggard scarecrow build.

Sure, all these complications turned what ought to be one of life's pleasures into a bit of chore, but the habit was so ingrained in him by now that he was barely bothered by it all. Plus, it could be a lot worse. At least he wasn't doomed to a lifetime of IVs, as he had first dreaded. Still, Toshinori hadn't failed to notice the hints of sadness in the boy's eyes whenever he glanced at the small amounts of easily digestible food in his dish.

"So, what happened out there?" Toshinori asked, after the silence had stretched long enough for his head to settle down.

"We aren't sure of the details yet. You and I were attacked simultaneously, presumably by All For One's men. They didn't confess anything while I was there, but Endeavor said he'd take care of the interrogation." Midoriya answered as he poured the tea into two small cups.

"Oof, I wouldn't want to be in their shoes."

"He was quite... angry. Not only at the villains. I think he tried to set you on fire while I wasn't looking."

"To cauterize my wound, surely. He's such a gentle, caring soul." He winked at the boy, who finally let a small smile grace his features.

Midoriya helped him sit up on the cot, which Toshinori achieved with some mild dizziness and coughing up just two little drops of blood. A good sign. He took the steaming cup he was offered and blew on it.

"I hate to admit it, but they got the best of me very easily. I'm starting to lose count of how many lives I owe you, my boy."

"I... I'm not sure I was the one who saved you though." Midoriya bit his lip, his gaze falling to the floor. "I think I saw the explosion back when they attacked you. It took us all a while to dispatch of the villains after me and get to the site. The group that targeted you had all the time to... to finish their job before we showed up, but they didn't. I think they were trying to bring you somewhere."

Toshinori frowned. That didn't bode well. A kidnapping attempt? Maybe to use him as leverage in case the frontal attack on Midoriya didn't succeed? It could make sense. The mere notion made Toshinori's blood boil, but that was a possibility they'd have to consider very carefully in the future.

"I see. We'd better lay low for a while until Endeavor can give us a clearer picture of the situation." Toshinori pondered. "Any damage to your equipment? I assume most of mine was unrecoverable."

"Mine is in working condition. Hawks said he'd take care of getting us a new vehicle, and he already passed me a new phone, laptop and some other things to replace what was in the car."

Preparedness, thy name is Hawks, Toshinori thought. He promised himself not to brush him off so quickly the next time he called, or maybe even call him himself to thank him. Maybe. The man was strangely hard to read, he didn't quite invite Toshinori's confidence.

"Good." Toshinori took a long sip, then leaned back against wall with a sigh. "I guess we should take advantage of this forced downtime to recuperate. You've been working yourself pretty thin lately, it's hardly sustainable in the long run."

Midoriya didn't reply. He was still staring at the floor as if the secrets of the universe were contained in the concrete beneath. The tea was growing cold in his cup, forgotten on a nearby table. Toshinori kept staring at him in turn, waiting for the boy to notice his own unresponsiveness and offer an explanation. Eventually he spoke, still avoiding his mentor's eyes.

"All Might..." And that was all he managed before trailing off.

"Yes? Something on your mind?" Toshinori encouraged. The answer was again, not quite immediate.

"I have been thinking, lately... about our plan. About how our groups are organised. If our teams are currently as balanced and efficient as they could be."

"Would you rather be paired up with one of the big three, and have me act as support for the others?" Toshinori asked plainly, squashing the little lurch of unease the suggestion gave him.

"N.. Yes, I... Maybe. That is a possibility." Another pause. Midoriya was getting visibly on edge, his free hand clenched to a fist to his side. "If I am to act as bait, I cannot provide coverage for anyone. Jeanist, Hawks and Endeavor are more at liberty to protect-" The boy finally raised his gaze to meet Toshinori's eyes and flinched, almost scared of the sound of his own words.

...Ah, we had finally come to this.

"Don't get me wrong. Please." Suddenly the boy deflated, his back slumped fowards and he rested his elbows on his legs, both his hand supporting the sides of his head. "At the hospital, when you offered to leave UA as well and follow me, I... Y-You have no idea what it means to me, how proud I am to fight alongside you, how much I-"

His voice faltered again. Toshinori waited.

"But... You said yourself, the first time we met, that one has to consider the reality of things. And... the reality of this... is that, right now, there is nothing more dangerous on this planet than being at my side. And... for someone... like you to be so exposed... I can't-"

"Yeah, I'm going to stop you right there." Toshinori butted in, taking another sip of tea. He twirled the cup in his fingers, nonplussed. "Look, kid. Believe me when I say that I am painfully aware that, in terms of combat capability and survivability, I am much more of a liability than an asset to the whole operation-"

"You are not- a liability!" Midoriya almost shouted, and Toshinori could swear that he had corrected himself at the last second to avoid using the word 'weak'. "You coordinate the four of us flawlessly, you take care of my gear, my clothes, my accomodation, my food, you offer me advice and strategy I couldn't come up with on my own, you can hold your ground against low-tier criminals, and evade situations where the odds are too stacked against you. You've been doing all this for months without breaking a sweat! I know exactly how valuable your skills are!"

"Then that makes two of us. I don't see any reason for you to imply that I should leave the team."

"Because... All of this... As valuable as it is, it isn't worth..." Midoriya banged his fists against his thigs, his back hunched over and his head bowed so much that all Toshinori could see was him biting his lip so hard he thought it'd start bleeding, "...your life."

It pained Midoriya to say it. It pained Toshinori to see him so distraught about it. But he had purposefully let the argument get that far, because it was necessary for the boy to confront this thing sooner or later.

"If those villains had had different orders... If we had been slower, or unlucky... You would have died." The boy struggled to continue. "I don't-"

"You don't want to see anyone getting hurt any more. I know."

Toshinori recalled very vividly those days at the hospital. The aftermath. Hectic, nightmarish days for everyone. Relatives, friends, colleagues of the many victims and injured were everywhere, shedding tears of shock and horror behind every corner. Toshinori himself hadn't been able to hold back tears as he had proclaimed his intention to tag along the boy in his crusade against All For One. Rumors through the grapevine said that even Endeavor had been seen weeping in that whirlwind of grief. The only person that Toshinori hadn't seen shed a single tear at any point was Midoriya. That alone should have alerted him of some sudden subversion in the natural order of the universe, but it had taken him some more time to realize the meaning behind that stoicism.

"I share that feeling. Whole-heartedly." Toshinori slowly clenched and unclenched his fist, somberly. "But if all it took to ensure someone's safety was a passionate declaration of intent, the world wouldn't need as many heroes as it does. We both know it, don't we?"

"That's why I'm asking you to-"

"And that's why I'm refusing." Toshinori glared sternly at the boy's hair. "This accident has brought to light a flaw in our patterns of action, and we're lucky it did so without causing any lasting damage. If we need to regroup in a way that grants me less exposure, fine. We can work out the logistics of that later. But if you're trying to convince me to go back and sit tight in UA's offices at whatever you deem a 'safe distance' to be, you can spare your breath. It isn't going to happen."

"But... All Might, please!" Midoriya finally raised his head to look at his teacher, a desperate edge in his eyes. "I wouldn't be left unguarded! Jeanist, Hawks and Endeavor can support me, while you... you are quirkless now and- God, think of Nighteye's vision!"

"Is that why you're trying to push me away? Is it really?" Toshinori retorted, with more bite than he intended. "In few months, you have successfully detached yourself from your classmates, most of your teachers, your own mother. And now you're trying to do the same with me. Is it so far-fetched for me to imagine that, if push comes to shove, you'll try to leave the other pro heroes behind too, in some misguided self-sacrifing effort 'not to see anyone hurt again'!?"

Midoriya's flinched as if he'd just been slapped. Admittedly, that had come out more harshly than Toshinori was planning. The man coughed into his fist, seizing the chance to discreetly rein his own feelings in.

"Young Midoriya." He resumed, more gently. "This overpowering sense of responsibility and protection that you are feeling... is exactly what drove me during the six years between my injury and our first meeting. The drive to uphold a Symbol of Peace that would protect everyone, directly or indirectly. The current situation speaks loudly about the results of my efforts."

Toshinori paused, suddenly caught by a deep bitterness. "If I hadn't been so stubborn... if I hadn't rejected the advice and support of the people who cared about me the most... maybe the Symbol of Peace would still exist to this day. Upheld by more than a single bluffer. I have paid for my mistakes, and the worst part is that I wasn't only one. My friends, my loyal sidekick paid for them dearly, way more harshly than I did. The whole country is paying for them."

Toshinori leant forward, suppressing the cough that threatened to rob his breath. He looked his shocked pupil in the eyes, without the barest hint of reservation. "I will not let you make the same mistake."

Midoriya's head bowed again, very slowly, like a toy with dying batteries. His shoulders trembled.

"I won't be able to talk you out of this, will I?" He said, shakily.

Toshinori wasn't a fool. He knew that Midoriya had grasped the importance of his words. He also knew that discussing that particular topic with All Might, of all people, was especially difficult for him. The pain of losing a mentor (one that somewhat doubled as a surrogate parental figure too, as it happened) was something Toshinori was intimately acquainted to. He could imagine how great Midoriya's fear had to be, to spark so direct a confrontation.

He knew, last but not least, that his successor always, invariably, reliably chose the best course of action when it was asked of him.

"Do you really want to?" Toshinori asked softly, steadying the boy's quivering shoulder with his hand.

Midoriya tensed even more, hesitated. Then he shook his head negatively.

He had grown so much. Physically and mentally, as a person and as a hero. In just two years, his frame had gotten larger and sturdied, his muscles had toned, his reflexes sharpened, his judgement refined, his courage exploded, his kindness bloomed. He had blossomed into such a remarkable individual that, sometimes, even Toshinori forgot that he was still a sixteen-year old.

That he was, most of all, still Izuku Midoriya.

"You haven't turned on the waterworks in a while, have you? It must be full to bursting in there." Toshinori smiled as he pulled the boy into a one-armed hug. "You shouldn't let the pressure build up so much."

The kid let out a pitiful sob and his face fell on Toshinori's shoulder. It was all it took for him to unravel. He broke into a waterfall of tears, failing to contain a long series of low but heart-wrenching whines. He hugged his mentor back and clung to him tightly, the man's shirt balled up in both his fists. Toshinori didn't let go until Midoriya did, few dry coughs taking care of unloading the traitorous knots that were forming in his own throat.

It lasted as long as it needed to. Eventually the gasps abated, the tears stopped flowing, and the boy's desperate grasp on Toshinori loosened.

"...I-I'm sorry." He managed as he pulled back, still held at arm's length by Toshinori's hand. "I just... You are right. About everything. I just..."

"I know. You've finally experienced All For One's devastating maliciousness firsthand. It's natural that you got so disturbed by it. I was disturbed too, and it was hardly my first time witnessing it." In an unexpected turn of fate, Toshinori had managed not to spill his cup during that whole emotional outburst, and he downed the last of his now iced tea with a single gulp. It didn't feel quite as fortifying as if it had been sake. "But we'll all look into how to protect each other better, and we'll move from there. We'll face what they'll throw at us, in one way or another."

Midoriya nodded. The next Symbol of Peace made for a very sorry sight at the moment, with red, puffy eyes and radiating exhaustion from every pore. Toshinori still preferred seeing him like this than as a coiled wrap of nerves and fear one step away from bursting.

"You sure chose an odd moment to start worrying about my potential demise." Toshinori offered, trying to lighten the mood by ruffling the boy's hair in the most annoying way possible.

"Uh? What do you mean?"

"Aren't you in a semi-permanent conference call with your predecessors these days? The way I see it, the moment I bite the dust in this world, I'll just pop back on my feet-" He tapped Midoriya's forehead repeatedly despite his attempts to squirm away, discovering new heights of annoyance within his reach, " ...right here. Ready to lecture you for the rest of your days, unless you miraculously find another quirkless brat to torture in turn."

"That's- that hardly makes things better!" Midoriya swatted his hand away and blurted out, way too quickly. Toshinori had the strong impression that Midoriya had already considered that fact, and dutifully rejected it. "You aren't supposed to exist as a ghost trapped in my head for my sole benefit! You're supposed to live like anyone else, out here, free to enjoy-"

Oh, good grief. "Yes, fine, I get your point!" Toshinori raised his arms defensively. He deserved that, he knew the risks of trying to joke with his overly sensitive protégé. "I'm just saying that it's a handy safety net for you, at least in terms of... emotional support. I wouldn't look unkindly on the chance to chat with some of my deceased acquaintances for my whole life."

"...I suppose that is a good point." Midoriya took Toshinori's empty teacup and put it on the table next to his own. "If... If it even does last that long..."

"Mh?"

"I..." All of a sudden Midoriya was biting his lip again. He had that absorbed look that signalled the start of a deliriously overanalytical tirade. "You know, I've been thinking..."

"...Yes, you do that a lot, don't you?" Toshinori sighed, bracing himself for the inevitable. Midoriya ignored him and went on with his muttering.

"If the permanence of the conscience of One For All's wielders within the power itself isn't tied to their quirks, it must be due to something else. Something that all users have in common. There are many possibilities, but the first one that comes to mind is... willpower. A shared goal." The boy brought a hand to his chin and frowned. "One For All was born out of the First's desire to stop All For One, and this objective was steadily passed down from master to apprentice until now. It stands to reason that this might be the ultimate purpose of the power itself, to solve the conflict that generated it. And... I wonder what would happen after that. After we defeat All For One... will One For All remain the same? Will the connection among its wielders be lost? Will the quirk cease to exist in its entirety?"

Toshinori blinked. Twice. Where on earth was all this coming from now...?

"Did the predecessors tell you about this?"

"No, they don't know any more than we do about the matter." Midoriya finally re-emerged from his bubble of introspection, and gave Toshinori a sheepish smile in response to his puzzled look. "It's just a hypothesis of mine."

Toshinori rubbed his eyes tiredly. That boy's penchant for overthinking things would lead him to an early grave, he was sure of it, and it was only going to get worse now that he had eight distinct personalities residing in his head, ready to produce a constant stream of new inputs.

"...Let me get this straight. You are now worrying about the possibility that, if I were to die in the near future and become a sentient vestige- don't even try to deny it, I know how your head works-" Toshinori raised a finger menacingly as soon as Midoriya opened his mouth. The boy immediately closed it and grimaced with evident guilt, "...you are worried that, in that case, our connection would be lost after accomplishing this shared goal. Am I correct?"

"...I guess so." Midoriya answered, barely above a whisper.

Leave it to this boy to grow anxious about having to grieve for the same person not once, but twice. Toshinori summoned the last embers of his patience to deal with this like a rational adult.

"Listen. I can't deny that One For All has evolved so much since I passed it to you that I can barely claim any expertise on it at this point." Toshinori started, joining the tips of his fingers. "But you spoke of will and purpose. Of will and purpose, I know something about."

Midoriya instantly forgot his insecurity and leaned towards Toshinori, expectation and curiosity lighting his eyes.

"I cannot speak for most of the predecessors, since I never met them." He continued. "But I can tell you something about me, and I bet the same goes for my master too. I never wielded One For All with the purpose of defeating people. I wielded it with the purpose of helping them."

Toshinori waited for the words to sink in. He could pinpoint the moment they did by the distant look that appeared in the boy's eyes. He bet someone was smiling, inside that green-haired head.

"All For One has always been a disgusting, painful wart in the peaceful world I dreamed to protect. He was never the goal of my efforts, just an obstacle. That's all there is to it." He smiled to Midoriya, who now wore that unabashedly admiring expression that gave Toshinori a mild, inexplicable sense of guilt. "If that isn't enough to quell you doubts, you may remember certain promises I made to you and your mother, promises that would not be fulfilled by just taking down any one villain. I'll have you know that I'm not in the habit of going back on my word easily."

Midoriya nodded, worry slowly disappearing from his features.

"Yes... I see what you mean. " The boy visibly relaxed, and smiled. It was the first real smile he'd shown since Toshinori woke up. Finally. "That makes a lot of sense."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Thank you." The way the boy said those two simple words, the way he wore his enormous heart on his sleeve, the way he had never stopped feeling and showing the deepest gratefulness for whatever tidbit of advice Toshinori managed to scrap together...

Toshinori's head gave a painful throb. Either the painkillers were starting to wear off, or all these waves of teenage emotionality were aggravating his concussion. Both possibilities seemed equally likely. A swift intervention was required.

He karate-chopped Midoriya on the head.

"On the other hand!" He declared over the boy's yelp. "Talk about overconfidence, young man! 'After we defeat All For One'? Way to brush off the most miraculous task we'll ever have to accomplish in both our lives! How about we focus more on how to achieve that feat first, and then we worry about whatever existential crisis that may come our way afterwards?"

"Y-Yes! Of course!" Midoriya jumped on his feet with comical speed, accidentally mimicking a half-formed military salute. "I didn't mean to imply it would be easy! Nor less important than-"

"Undoubtedly. So, first order of things: recuperating. On second thought, I think now I could go for some breakfast. Lunch... Dinner?" Toshinori glanced around the room, failing to locate a clock. "Whatever meal is most suitable for this time of day or night."

"Breakfast." Midoriya confirmed, cheering up again. "Any preferences?"

"Some tamago kake wouldn't go amiss."

"Coming right up!" Midoriya moved to the other side of the room with a spring in his step. Toshinori considered lying down for a few minutes while the rice cooked.

"All Might. One last thing."

Toshinori sighed. Wasn't there always just one last thing?

"I said that I agree with everything you told me. Except one thing." Midoriya continued, from outside of Toshinori's view. His voice was firm. "You are no bluff. You never were. Even when you thought you were doing your job for only three hours a day, or one, or none at all. All the time, you were working just as hard as everyone else, if not more. And no one in their right mind would deny that you are the best thing that happened to Japan in the last forty years. Don't ever forget that."

As he was sliding from sitting to a horizontal position, Toshinori's head gave another, sharper twinge. It was that, and only that, that made his sight go just a little watery as his nape landed on the pillow.

"...Thanks, kid." He pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and relaxed with a deep sigh. "I'll keep it in mind."

[ggukcangetit]

please... love me | jjk x reader

title: please... love me

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: emotions are difficult and intense. which you find out the hard way. but sometimes, they can lead to something beautiful.

rating: PG-13

word count: 1.6k

genre: fluff, slight angst

warnings: none i can really think of

a/n: idk where this came from. but here you go.

Jungkook hummed quietly while keeping an eye on the chicken cooking on the stove. The subtle fragrance of the spices wafted through the kitchen and made its way into the living room where you were sitting - knees pulled into yourself as you scrolled through your phone mindlessly. Normally, the sight of someone - especially Jungkook - cooking for you would be the best part of your day. But this time it was different. It hadn’t even been 24 hours since your fight with Jungkook, yet here he was, coming over like he did every time he found the special spicy chili paste at the market, and cooking that one particular chicken dish you adored but hated having to make. The soft melody he had been humming for the past few minutes was starting to annoy you. Really, it was only because you felt guilty and didn’t want to admit that you had been a particularly horrid person the day before. 

It had all been fine and dandy - you, Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok were watching a movie at the latter’s apartment, something that had happened after a long time because the four of you never seemed to be able to coordinate your schedules. It was while watching the movie that something strange happened to you. Jimin had been feeling slightly under the weather and Jungkook immediately volunteered to make some hot stew for him. Dropping everything, including the movie you all had been watching, he ran to the nearest grocery store, bought the ingredients for the stew, and proceeded to cook at half past 11 at night. While Hoseok joked about Jungkook’s eagerness to help everyone, a flicker of annoyance passed through you, building in intensity as the stew was brought out and Jimin sipped it gratefully. 

There was no real reason for your annoyance. Which made you all the more annoyed. Picking up your phone and wallet, you headed for the door.

“I’m heading home.” Your tone was stiff and the others looked at you in surprise.

“You don’t want to watch the rest of the movie?” Jungkook asked. 

“I don’t think anyone was really watching it anymore.” The words sounded awfully odd even to your ears.

“Come on,” Jungkook continued, giving you a sheepish grin. “I promise there won’t be any more distractions.”

“No. I’m going home. You guys can continue watching it if you want.”

“Y/n, come on, I’m sorry. Let’s watch the rest of the movie together.” 

“I’m going home. You guys can watch the movie together.”

Hoseok and Jimin looked around awkwardly, not sure of how to react. To be honest, neither did you. After a few moments of silence, Jungkook sighed and walked towards you.

“Okay, let me drive you home. You didn’t bring your car today.”

“No.”

Jungkook’s head shot up as his gaze caught yours. “No?”

“I can get back on my own.”

“I know you can. But I drove you here-” Jungkook ran a hand through his hair frustratedly - “It’s quite late, let me drive you back.”

“No.”

“Stop this, Y/n…”

“I’m not doing anything.” Your voice had risen considerably since announcing your departure. 

“Why’re you being so stubborn?!”

“I’m not! You’re the one who’s being stubborn!”

“What the hell happened anyway? Why are you so pissed off all of a sudden?! Because I wasn’t completely focused while watching the movie? What sort of childishness is this??” The exasperation in Jungkook’s voice was very apparent.

“Nothing happened.” Your tone was clipped once again. “I’m going home.” 

That was the last thing you had said to him before slamming shut the door to Hoseok’s apartment. After getting home, you muted every possible chat that Jungkook was part of - every part of you wanting to shut yourself off from him. But not a single part understanding why.

The clink of dishes brought you back to the present - Jungkook walked out of the kitchen with a couple of plates and placed one of them in front of you. The food was delicious as always, but nothing seemed to be going down your throat. A lump had settled there ever since you had returned from Hoseok’s place last night.

Even now, Jungkook said nothing, quietly eating the food and reading something on his phone. 

“Gguk?” He looked up from his phone, his doe eyes slightly unfocused.

“Hmm?” It was a soft sound, something you had heard countless times over the year and a half you had known him. There was never any aggression in his words, or his actions, or his intentions. He didn’t hold grudges. Nor did he stay angry purposefully, just to get back at you. You felt like an intruder in Jungkook’s world of soft emotions and beautiful thoughts - a complication amidst every ounce of sincerity that made up his being.

“Sorry about yesterday.” Your voice was low as you struggled to keep your emotions in check.

“It’s fine.” He gave you a small smile.

The lump was still present, your throat feeling choked as you gulped down some water. 

“Are you okay?” Concern laced his tone as he noticed the way your lips were quivering. “Are you feeling sick?”

He was beside you within seconds, rubbing your back soothingly and pouring you some more water.

“Why do you say that it’s okay?” You turned away from him, not knowing if you would have the courage to speak if you saw him staring at you with those horribly expressive doe eyes. “I behaved so horribly yesterday. Why didn’t you get angry? Why did you come and cook dinner?”

“I was angry. And frustrated.” He was now sitting next to you on the couch. “You didn’t even answer my messages. I was worried something might have happened to you. So I went to the market and looked for the spicy chili paste. At least then I’d have an excuse to come and see if you were okay.”

There was no way you could look at him now. Not without bursting into tears. 

“Are you okay? I’m sorry I came over like this. I was just so worried… I know you’re upset and I’m not really sure why. I’ll leave. But… let me know if you need anything.”

The way he said those words, as if he had done something wrong. That was what broke you. 

“Stop it.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Please... Please stop apologizing. Please get mad at me. Please tell me I’m horribly stubborn. Please ignore me when I’m being an asshole. Please make me stew when I’m feeling down. Please call me at odd hours. Please come over for no reason. Please notice me when I ignore your messages. Please get annoyed I do stupid things to get your attention. Please, Gguk, please… love me.”

Strong, warm arms wrapped around you as a single tear slid down your cheek. You closed your eyes shut as he guided your head onto his chest. You breathed in his scent - that soft, subtle smell of coffee mixed with his favorite fabric softener. It was so familiar and so comforting. One of his arms was still wrapped around you as the other pulled you closer towards him. You were basically sitting in his lap at this point, but the soft weight of his chin on top of your head prevented you from really focusing on anything. 

The two of you stayed like this for a while, just breathing deeply and embracing the moment. The gentle movement of his fingers in your hair was starting to make you feel sleepy and you looked up at him for the first time since apologizing for your behavior. His eyes held the same warm sincerity they always did, but there was something else there as well. 

“Feeling better?” The back of his fingers stroked your cheek softly, making you shiver slightly.

You didn’t answer. Regret had started bubbling inside you. You broke his gaze, focusing on the fabric of his t-shirt.

“Y/n? Please look at me.”

As soon as you looked up again, he brought his forehead closer and rested it against yours. Your noses were almost touching, and you closed your eyes because it was difficult to focus on him when he was so close. 

“I’m not good with words.” Every word felt like a soft kiss as his breath fell on your cheek and lips. “I never have been. But I hope you understand that a whole universe wouldn’t be enough to express how I feel about you.”

He rubbed his nose against yours and you struggled to stop yourself from leaning forward and brushing your lips with his. His free hand was now running soothing patterns along your back, and you clung to him in the hope that the proximity would somehow reduce unsettling need within you. 

“Y/n…” He was so close that the mention of your name made his lips brush against your own. “Can I kiss you?” His voice was so hoarse. You barely managed a nod before the feeling of his slightly chapped lips on yours took over. Soft at first, and slightly awkward, but soon it was as easy as breathing and as wonderful as the first rain after a long, dry summer. 

You relaxed into him as he kissed you in every way possible. The two of you slowly found a steady rhythm, relishing in the closeness of your bodies and the intimacies of your emotions. 

The lump in your throat was now gone. As was the last ounce of indecision keeping you away from the man you had fallen hopelessly in love with.

lemme know if you liked it 💕

[blu-archer]

Forgive?

Right...

I have these moments in writing when I get hit with a sudden realization that I have no idea what relationships are like, so if you notice anything that doesn’t quite add up... it’s because I’m winging the shit out of this

Standardly, there will probably be errors because its a common occurrence with me and I’m just embracing it at this point

anyway..

Sickie: Tae

Caretaker: like Jhope/Jin/Kook 

Cold/Snz based [although I feel like I drifted on things]

AU: Magic and hybrids exist

[mild language]

word count:  4560

*

*

*

*

Jungkook had to force himself to not snap at Taehyung when the witch had decided to follow him into the kitchen after Jungkook had specifically said he was going there to study in silence. He had to bite his tongue when his thought pattern had been abruptly cut off by Taehyung complaining about how his throat hurt or how tired he was.

If he was tired he could go sleep, and leave Jungkook in peace, but that seemed too much to hope for.

Feeling a warm weight press up against his back as he hunched over his notes, Jungkook let out a low growl. The weight didn’t disappear, then again he hadn’t really expected Tae to abide by his study rules when the elder had woken up in a much similar state as their universal favourite cat hybrid had been in just a few days prior. Jungkook felt awful for him sure, and concerned and empathetic, and a huge part of him wanted to just leave his work and hold the elder until he was content, but he had a paper that needed to be written up within two days that he had completely forgotten about as well as continue studying for his art history exam that was the following week. His jaw ached from how much he had been grinding his teeth and his head pounded with the beginnings of what he hoped wouldn’t lead to a migraine. He just couldn’t focus and Tae’s noise making and constant need for cuddles was distracting him from his work.

 “Taehyung.” Jungkook pushed back against the other so that he could relieve himself of the body weight, not bothering to look up from his notes to see the witch giving his signature sick-pout at him. “Can you please stay away from me right now, why don’t you go lie down or something. You are literally one big germ and I can’t afford to get sick again so soon after the last time. Especially not in the middle of my exams. I need to focus.”

 Taehyung sniffed thickly before collapsing into the seat beside the bunny, wiping his nose on the edge of the blanket that he had wrapped around him. He kept staring his boyfriend, coughing miserably only to be ignored. Yet neither of them were willing to complain about the others lack of helpfulness, rather it became a test of who would cave to the others vibes of annoyance first.

Tae was progressively getting more and more whiny, and Jungkook was gnawing down on the back of his pencil to keep from saying anything that he would regret later. He wanted to go lie down with his sick boyfriend just as much as said boyfriend did, but he didn’t have the time nor the ability to risk his health – not when he was so close to being finished with his finals for the year.

 “Kook…” Taehyung coughed softly before hooking his finger in the side pocket of Jungkook’s sweatpants, continuing with a strained voice. “You’ve been here for hours…. It’s cold in the bedroom alone.”

 Jungkook ran a hand through his hair,  giving a harsh tug on his one long, black ear to keep from letting out the frustration that had built in his throat. “Hobi should be back soon and while I’ve been here for hours, Tae, you have successfully made sure that my focus has been on everything except my work. So I’m going to be here for hours more.”

 “Uh..” Taehyung sniffled and pulled away. “Sorry, you’re right. I’ll just…”

 He stood up and shuffled from the kitchen without another word, realising that the bunny hybrid had returned his focus to his laptop and the pages scattered on the table.

*

Jungkook hadn’t even realised how much time had passed by the time he gave in to the aches of hunger in his stomach. In fact, he had thought that Taehyung would have wondered in asking for food or cuddles well before he would have decided to call it a day, but he hadn’t seen or heard of the elder since earlier that morning. He had probably managed to fall asleep, which was good. The witch had definitely been overworking himself to try and improve on what Namjoon and Yoongi had been teaching him, it was almost frustrating to watch Taehyung push and struggle through things that always seemed to come naturally to others. It’s not like he did bad at everything, once he is able to decipher and control his magic properly everything will come to him easier than the common witch or warlock – he was technically a mix of both, he’d be more powerful than a lot of people. He just needed to over come a few things first, and perhaps take a step back from experimentations until he actually had the control needed for it – but Jungkook was willing to stay and support him no matter what methods or route he took to achieve what he wanted. Even if that meant having to deal with a few potion after effects or a mass clean up after a spell went haywire – he’d come back to a flooded apartment more than once, one time Tae had even accidentally made it snow in their home for the three days straight and it had only been fixed through the help of Yoongi.

In any case, he was glad that the elder was resting now. Feeling relieved at how much work he had managed to get finished – he just needed to proofread and edit some sections of his essay before submitting – Jungkook decided to get started on making some food. It was a little early for dinner, but considering how tired he was, and no doubt after a day of teaching with extra class sessions after school Hobi will be too, it was probably for the best that a meal was made earlier so they could go to sleep quicker. Taehyung never really had much of an appetite when he wasn’t feeling well, so it would be much easier to get something in him before it got too dark.

He called Yoongi for the recipe of japchae that elder had shared with himself and Tae a couple of times, which had taken a while to connect and he’d been chewed out for apparently waking the elder – another person succumbed to sickness – but it was worth it. Taehyung had become obsessed with it, claiming that the only thing that could top it was his mother’s food and maybe Jin’s famous bibimbap, so hopefully he’d eat without too much of a fuss. Jungkook felt a little bad at having ignored the elder so blatantly earlier, but on an upside he’d managed to get a huge chunk of his work done, so when Tae woke up Jungkook would just have to make up for his actions earlier. Maybe if he made some of that tea that the witch enjoyed so much as well… and something to watch while laying together. Tae loved dramas. Cuddles and dramas. A solid plan.

He got to work on chopping up various vegetables while he waited for the water for the noodles to boil, his mind flicking through the series of tasks he’d set to make his boyfriend feel better.

 **

 Taehyung had given himself exactly fifteen minutes to cry, which was as long as he’d managed to walk before he’d caved and waved down a taxi to take him the rest of the way to his friends place. From then he had scrambled to try dry his eyes and blow his nose into the handful of tissues he’d stuffed into the deep pockets of his coat before having left. Doing anything to seem remotely okay in case Jin was busy and couldn’t let him stay, he didn’t want the elder witch to feel pressured into keeping him company.

The warmth of the taxi had caused his stuffy nose to start running at an annoying rate and he was regretting not bringing a mask. Although he hadn’t given his actions much thought besides tossing on a sweater and coat, switching his pajama bottoms for a pair of black sweatpants before slipping on sneakers and walking out – he hadn’t even tried to be quiet but Jungkook hadn’t seemed to really care what he did, as long as it wasn’t around him.

Taehyung shook his head, burrowing deeper into his coat and training his eyes on the blurring world outside as he got closer to Jin’s house. He didn’t want to think about how his chest had pained worse than anything he’d felt that morning when Jungkook had told him to leave. A part of him understood, his boyfriend was probably stressed and had just been saying whatever he needed to in the moment, but Taehyung had still been upset by it.

He sniffed deeply, the thick icky sensation in his throat made him want to do nothing more than be back at home, in bed with his boyfriends gently running their hands through his hair or down his back or just being close to him – the bare minimum at least. Anything.

The car gradually pulled to stop. Tae got out and thanked the driver quickly before needing to cough into his sleeve. The wind whipped at him and his nose twinged as the cold air bit at his now heated skin. If anything, his nose had begun to run even more. He took a moment to blow his nose again, dragging out more than a few bothersome itchy sneezes that had left him leaning heavily on the front gate of Jin and Namjoon’s house to catch his breath.

The blowing hadn’t helped much, his head was heavy and congested, and he just wanted to sleep now. He was so tired.

Coughing downwards as he huddled against the cold and welcomed himself into the couples yard to get to their door, he could only hope that he didn’t look as dreadful as he felt. He didn’t want to be a bother. He just wanted to be around someone, and Hoseok was working, Jimin too, and Yoongi had also been booked off sick and probably wouldn’t even be awake – so this was his last resort.

He knocked on the door, praying that either Namjoon had closed the shop early or Jin had already arrived home from the school days exam schedule. It was a bit of a long shot, but he vaguely remembered Namjoon mentioned during that week that Jin hadn’t been needing to stay as late as usual, and some days didn’t even have to go in to help the second nurse at the school. Taehyung rubbed at his nose and knocked again when the wind shook him with a particularly cold breeze, his breath hitched inevitably once more. Defeated, he hovered a single hand in front of his face and waited, panting desperately with furrowed brows.

..hh..hehh..snff.. .. hhh’Heh’HESHH.. HE’ITSH’UHhh… he’hh..hEHH’TSHH’uh..

 “Taehyung?”

 …heH’HEESHH – HEH’EESH’AH!  

He felt a sturdy hand grip his shoulder and pull him out of the wind, into the warm safety of the house. Jin – because it had to be Jin, even if he wasn’t quite aware of his immediate surroundings with how his head was spinning, Namjoon had never been able to craft the level of concern that Jin was able to put into his voice and touch – kept his hand on Taehyung’s arm as the younger had bent forward to catch  another wet double into his hands, even when he made sure to push his front door shut once more.

Breathless and dripping, Tae was led to the familiar family sized couch that Jin had purchased upon moving into their home. He had claimed it was for guests but Tae had always had a suspicion that it was bought in case Namjoon tried to stay up late and ended up falling asleep while working. It was incredibly comfortable. Taehyung couldn’t help but sigh as he dropped into it with a tired cough.

 “Tae… What are you doing here?” Jin ran a hand through the young witches hair, carefully running his eyes down the mans form as if he could figure out what was happening through sight alone. “Joonie messaged me saying he was working alone today… I would have thought that meant you’d be at home?”

 Taehyung sniffled thickly, blinking away fresh tears before he grabbed the last few of his unused tissues and blew his nose once more. It was beginning to pulse in time with his throbbing headache, and he just knew that it was probably all red from its recent activity. It wouldn’t be much longer before his blowing would make his skin raw.

 He scrunched a tissue into his fist to wipe at his nose gently before he managed to give Jin his full attention. Thankfully the man was patient. “I just.. had to leave. *snf*.  Jungkook needed… space. I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind me coming over..”

 Jin’s lips pursed tightly. The congestion was sinking into Tae’s words in a way that made him think the younger witch definitely shouldn’t have left home. He ran a hand over Taehyung’s cheek to swipe away a stray tear that had slipped out and then leaned in closer. “Well it’s a good thing I love having company. I was just about to go fetch Namjoon, but how about I ask Seokie to do that for me and we can drink some tea and watch a movie.. hmm?”

 Taehyung nodded, letting Jin tug off his coat and shoes before following the momentum from Jin’s hands – pushing him to lie down on the soft couch with the gentle promise of ‘being right back’.

The elder retrieved a pink, fluffy blanket that he tucked around Tae’s body, ‘like a warm hug’, Tae had smiled and pulled it closer to embrace its warmth. Vaguely Taehyung could hear Jin on the phone, once the man had moved to the kitchen to fix up the tea, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus completely on what was being said. His mind was mostly being entertained by the hopes of sleep and trying not to sneeze again, but a part of him was aware that it was probably Hoseok on the other side of the phone. He smothered a cough into the blanket, the force shaking him and paining his throat. He would have groaned if he didn’t know that it would just hurt him more. Just a little more time, and then Hobi will be there with him. That’s all he could wish for.

 He was woken up by a gentle hand shaking his shoulder, and upon blinking his eyes into the light of the afternoon sun,  immediately crumpled forward with  a harsh ‘hehH’ESHEW!’.

 “Bless you…” Jin set down the cup he had been holding to help pull Taehyung to sit upright without the blanket falling from around his shoulders. “I let you sleep for a little bit, because you looked like you needed it, but I want you to drink and eat something too.”

 “mm ‘ot hungry.” He mumbled, letting out a yawn that shifted into an irritated cough that grated at his throat. He took a hold of the cup Jin offer, holding it through the material of the blanket and pulling it closer to rest on his chest.

 “It’s not a lot,” Jin promised. “Just some crackers with your tea.. It’s not negotiable, unfortunately.”

 Jin sat next to him with his own mug of tea and a plate a crackers’ settled on his lap, pointedly being pushed closer to Taehyung. “Tae…. I love having you here, but I want to help if you need me too. Did Jungkook really tell you to leave?”

 Tae hesitated, sniffling thickly as the steam from his tea worked its way to his sinuses. “Not exactly, but… I didn’t feel.. okay.”

 He spoke about how he had woken up sick and what he had been feeling, as well as all of the things Jungkook had been going through with his studies – breezing over vaguely of what had been said that morning – then finally speaking about his decision and plan to come where he would be accepted. Jin listened intently, every so often handing him a tissue or a cracker, depending on what he felt Tae needed more as he snuffled through his words. He didn’t say anything either, just letting Tae lean into him and occasional letting out a soft grunt of disapproval – mainly towards Jungkook’s actions and Tae having thought walking would be a good idea.    

 “I’ll put on a movie, okay?” Jin said softly after Taehyung had admitted to ‘just wanted someone to hold him’ and ‘be there’. If he needed comfort then Jin would provide, he just couldn’t believe Jungkook had shunned his boyfriend. Even if the bunny had needed to focus, he usually always had time to spare for Taehyung. “Eat a few more and then we can finish our tea and get comfortable. Hobi should be coming here soon too, so you can look forward to that.”

 Taehyung couldn’t stop a small smile tugging at his lips. While Jungkook gave great cuddles, and Jin gave amazing hugs, there was an atmosphere so uniquely ‘Hoseok’ that made Taehyung crave him. He was warm. There was no better way to describe it. His presence was enough to be satisfying.

For now, he made do with his friend. Letting himself be pulled down to rest on Jin’s chest once he’d finished his drink. The elder had set a box of tissues within grabbing range so that Tae could catch each flurry of damp, heavy sneezes into the soft tissue – his nose growing brighter with each passing minute until he had merely lay his head onto Jin’s lap and held the tissue in a ball against his nose, fighting his eyes to stay open and watch the action movie Jin had found, but eventually falling to darkness.    

  It hadn’t taken long for Hoseok to leave work – calling his afterschool class to a close earlier than usual so that he could pick up Namjoon and go see Taehyung. Jin hadn’t told him much of anything, mostly just explained that Tae was sick and Jungkook had said some stuff that had hurt his feelings – which was absurd because those two never intentionally hurt each other, especially not with words. It was one of the things he had envied about them, how well they worked. His next concern was that Tae was sick and had still left the house. His homebody boyfriend felt better leaving their home because he didn’t want to be around Jungkook?

Nothing was making sense.

Namjoon had had to tell him to slow down three times before they’d finally reached his stylish home. Hoseok had left his car parked partially in the street and had moved past Namjoon to get into the house first. He’d swung the door open so hard it had slammed into the wall, but thankfully the only reaction that was given was Jin’s startled yell and Namjoon’s complaints about Hobi breaking things. Taehyung was asleep on the chair with his head nestled int Jin’s lap and soft congested snores sounded from him. Thank goodness he hadn’t been disturbed.

 “Sorry.” Hoseok murmured as he moved to kneel by his boyfriend. Jin’s face softening a little bit. “Is he alright… he looks like he has a fever…”

 “I think he does.” Jin agreed, stroking his fingers through Tae’s hair. “He’s been getting warmer, but other than that I think he just wanted someone to be with him. Jungkook had apparently told him that Tae was distracting him from work and that he needed to stay away because he was sick? Or something? I don’t know, it seemed like a small thing.”

 “It’s not.” Hoseok said, his voice hardening.

Jungkook had told Tae to stay away from him because he was sick? The same Jungkook that would cling to either of them every chance he got whenever he possibly could? Not to mention that he said that when Tae was clearly not well…

A heat spread through him that made his jaw clench.

“I should probably get him home.”

 “I didn’t give him any medication, but just take some back with you. Joonie?” Namjoon stepped behind the chair and lent down to lay peck on Jin’s lips and cheek. “Hey… can you fetch a few immunity boosting potions, as well as some of the cold and flu  ones that I made earlier?”

 “Sure, I’ll put a variety in. I have some balms and ointments that will help with any fevers or raw area’s.” Namjoon added before trailing off further into the house, muttering about what else could help.

 Jin smiled with reassurance and Hobi let out a sigh as he moved to retrieve a balled up tissue from Tae’s hand. . “He’s fine. The worst of it really was that he seemed lonely but was afraid of being a bother, which is unlike Tae.”  

 “I know. I just – Sorry.” He stood up abruptly as he searched his pockets for his phone that had started blaring. Tae shifted in his sleep and Hoseok scrambled to find it faster, answering as soon as it was out. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to speak before Jungkook started rambling on in a state of panic.

 “I don’t know where he is! He was here and then I thought he was asleep but he’s not asleep because he’s not here! And he’s not answering his phone, please tell me you have him?!”

 That heat from before amplified. If Jungkook was going to be sounding that scared of Taehyung not being around then why the hell did he send him away in the first place?

“You asshole.” Hoseok hissed, then lowered his pitch to avoid waking the sick witch. “You basically told him that he was being a pest! What the hell is wrong with you Jungkook? You didn’t even know that he left until now? He tried to walk to Jin and Namjoon’s place. In this cold weather, because you couldn’t be bothered to spare an hour with him.”

 “I-I didn’t realise –“

 “You didn’t realise?  You have been dating him longer than I have Jungkook, you should have fucking realised! What the hell is wrong with you?”

 “I’m sorry!”

 Hoseok bit his tongue as he heard the choking tears in the hybrids voice. He shouldn’t be snapping at Jungkook. He shouldn’t be picking a side. They were supposed to be open and honest and understanding with one another. Clearly something had gone wrong, but he had a feeling that Jungkook understood his mistake, even if it wasn’t understood as quick as it should have been.

 “Okay. Okay, I’m going to bring him home. He’s safe – just… he looks plain exhausted.”

 “I’m sorry..” Jungkook repeated softly. “I didn’t think he’d leave.”

 Hobi took a deep breath. “We’ll see you at home Jungkook… Just hang on there.”

**

  Taehyung had woken up about halfway home, coughing deeply into the blanket that Jin had lent to them. It was harsh and crackly and overall, just didn’t sound good. Hoseok had sped up just a bit to get him home faster, so that they could get him medicated and in bed… maybe a bath would help.

 “Sleep well, Baby?”

 He got a rough, undecipherable mumble and Tae struggled to push himself upright from where he was lying down in the back seat.

 “We’ll be home soon.” He promised, watching Tae rub at his eyes and then his nose in the rear-view mirror. Then added. “Jungkook was worried about you.”

 “He told me to.. to le-ehh hh’-ve…. hh’HE’HEITCHh… HUH’HRESHH’uhh…ugh.”

 “Bless. And I know, I don’t think he realised the impact his words had.”

 Tae sniffled and rubbed his nose with the edge of the blanket. “He’s jus’ stressed. I over reacted,”

 “I don’t think you over reacted.” Hobi answered honestly, that heat from earlier still present even after he’d tried to stamp it down. “He said something wrong when you needed him, perhaps if it happens again then it might be wise to talk about it instead of leaving without telling anyone though, or at least take your phone with you. But the three of us are in this together, neither of us like seeing you sick and Jungkook shouldn’t have taken his stressors out on you.”

  He didn’t get an answer. Taehyung just stared blankly out of the window at the dying light out the world until they pulled up at their complex.

After wrapping him tightly in the blanket and draping his coat over Tae’s shoulders, they began their climb to home.  Hoseok kept a steady arm around the witch and had to catch him once when Tae had snapped forward into a bout of surprise sneezes that had almost caused him to slip up the stairs when heading to their apartment. They went a bit slower after that. It wasn’t much of a surprise to see Jungkook waiting outside the door for them. He had been perched on the ground with his back to the door chatting politely to their neighbours six year old daughter, and by chatting the conversation had probably mostly been about wanting to play with Jungkook’s floppy ears and asking when he could teach her to draw ‘like a real artist’ again. He didn’t seem as invested as he usually was, and after having glanced up and seen his boyfriends, had almost burst into tears. Taehyung had actually started crying, both choking out apologises.

Hobi smiled. They’d all be fine it seemed. He greeted the child and encouraged her to get out of the cold, waiting for her to be inside before he opened their door and gently tugged his boyfriends inside. The smell hit him first and he sent Jungkook a questioning look.

 “Did you make food?”

 “Yeah,” he swiped at his face with a sniff. “I thought if I made japchae then Tae would want to eat something.”

 The news only caused the witch to let out a sob that had him coughing for breath.

 “Tae, baby… please calm down, you’re going to make yourself worse…” Hoseok laid a kiss to his burning cheek and reached to squeeze Jungkook’s hand. “Why don’t you and Kookie go take a bath? I’ll fetch you some water to drink and get the food reheated, okay?”

 “Will you join us?”

 “I think you two should be alone for a bit, I want to read over everything that Joon and Jin gave us for you.” The dancer placed kiss gently on the tip of Taehyung’s nose, grinning widely as the witch’s tears were halted with a hitched breath. “Don’t take too long though, I missed you both so much today. These extra classes are going to kill me.”

 Hoseok took a moment outside the bathroom door to listen to his boyfriends whisper soft words to one another, a flurry of apologies made a second appearance from Tae but was cut off abruptly. Hoseok took that as his cue to get everything ready for when they got out.

Everything would be worked out by tomorrow and yet he was definitely still going to be leaving his classes early to join in on whatever mess was going to be happening here. Taehyung had never learnt the ability to not share anything in his life.