#[ i have been working on this for four fuckING HOURS OKAY it's be goddamn aWFUL ]

[dadsbongos]

the end of evangelion - s.geto & s.gojo & s.ieiri

part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection … warnings - children being traumatized by toji, you are killed and then revived :) , plasma vessel arc spoilers, i fucking love tragic character relationships <3 word count - 3.8 K / rating - PG-13

Satoru notices three things before him. Bangs. Mole. Bug eyes.

He doesn’t really remember their names, he supposes he probably should if he wants to seem polite.

But he wasn’t good at any of that, so he simply places his hand over his chest and proudly declares, “Gojo, Satoru, and I hope none of you think I plan on carrying the class.”

The one staring with wide, bashful eyes suddenly sours, glaring at him from beside the girl with the mole. A quiet laugh rumbles from the chest of the pretty boy with his bangs hanging over his eye. Satoru’s teacher sighs quietly before clapping him on the shoulder, the large hand heavy on his bony shoulder.

“Please, take a seat by Geto and we can begin.”

Satoru pauses, hands jammed in his pockets. His eyes are narrowed behind pitch-black, square lenses. Geto, Geto, Geto…

“Which one was that?”

The big-eyed one guffaws while the girl with the mole snorts. The both of them turn to the other boy. Ah, so it must be him, then.

“Geto, here,” the one with the bangs raises his hand, eyes straying towards the door as if he’s already prepared to bolt.

Yaga waits for Satoru to find his seat before standing in front of his four first-years. He looks out at them and sees two very different paths. One full of bountiful success; First Grade sorcerers chock-full of household names in the jujutsu world. And one of shameful failures, a crew barely able to work together long enough in the Kyoto exchange event let alone actually operate missions as a team.

Though, he watches as you and Shoko re-introduce yourselves to Satoru. The six-eyes user, surprisingly, nods along and seems to genuinely retain the information. Yaga feels hope bloom in his chest.

With such unique techniques gathered in one room, there is real potential here for a fruitful future.

“Just one more, c’mon!” Satoru nuzzles his warm cheek between yours and Suguru’s, and begs as if he doesn’t have you both trapped beneath his arms. For such a scrawny guy, he sure does have a good grip.

“We’ve been here for hours, ‘Toru!” you whine, but your body is already completely lax against his side.

Suguru hums along to your point with a gentle nod, “Yaga-sensei still has a reservation we need to get to, Satoru.”

“Aw, let the prince have this!” Shoko, for once, sides with the wonder boy beside you. She holds up her camera and grins, “One more and then dinner!”

“Quickly, please?!” Yaga calls from over the girl’s shoulder, “If we’re late, one of you has to pay for the replacement dinner!”

“Not it!” you call at the same time Suguru purrs it. Satoru rolls his eyes, arms squeezing even tighter around both of your necks.

“As if it would’ve been anyone else.”

“Alright, smiles!” Shoko glares over the lens of her camera, lashes narrowed, despite the uptilt of her rosy lips, “And hold up the awards - Yu and I worked hard on those!”

You, Satoru, and Suguru display the thin, crinkle-edged papers with crudely drawn-on golden trim and sky blue ribbon. In large black crayon scrawls are your names over the front with ‘OFFICIAL FIRST GRADER’ below. It must’ve taken less than a minute each, but you’re already mentally plotting where exactly you want to hang yours in your dorm. Maybe you could even goad Satoru into buying you each matching frames.

“Alright, alright,” Yaga calls, checking his watch for the umpteenth time since Shoko called for another picture, “Let’s go! Goddamn!”

“Okay,” Shoko lowers the camera, flicking through the many photos she’d collected over the evening, “There may be some actual salvageable ones in here.”

“At least you can’t tell when ‘Toru blinks,” you bounce over to her side, carefully cradling the homemade paper award to your chest.

“No,” Shoko pouts suddenly, staring into the sharp glare in Satoru’s glasses, “Dammit - you can see me in those stupid shades!”

“Good!” you lean over to follow her gaze, “That way everybody who sees it will know you were here, too.”

“But I look goofy…”

Suguru towers over the brunette’s back to look at the photo, “Yeah, you do.”

“Hey!”

“He’s right,” Satoru snickers, having not even glanced at the camera screen.

“Hey!”

All three Grade One Tokyo branch students sent as escorts are fatally injured. Two dead. Both later revived.

You can feel it all down your neck. Cold and prickly and squeezing. The base of your throat cinches, heart banging against every bone rung in your chest - trying desperately to free itself. Instinctively, your shoulders bunch up towards your neck; the tips of your fingers go numb, and the numbness spreads up your hands. As if your body itself is trying to shut down. Some unfair, automatic reaction in the face of a bigger predator.

Your knees buckle.

Toji has a hand on his hip, head tilting with a lazy grin, “You’re not on the list, y’know?”

You swallow thickly, eyes scrambling hurriedly over the hulking form before you. Broad shoulders and muscles, at least three times the size of your head, doused in midnight black. You think you make fists.

“You can run, kid,” Toji raises both brows high along his forehead, “If you don’t think you’ll win, you can run.”

It’s cold. So cold it burns. Your jaw clenches. Air fails to reach the hull of your lungs before it’s all punched back out.

“I do it,” Toji jerks the sword in his hand.

Snapped third blade.

Maroon handle.

It’s shiny. Blinding.

Your eyes flicker from the blade to Toji. The blade. It’s familiar. You’ve seen it in a picture. It has a name. The blade glints, sunlight sliding across the metal. Your stare shoots back up to Toji. Toji Fushiguro.

Your legs are going numb now.

Toji’s eyes glide downward, your own snapping to where he glances. Your hands are balled into fists. They’re shaking. Is it fear? Is it anger?

Or are you just tensing too harshly?

Your eyes fall past your hands. Lingering on the concrete beneath your shifting feet.

“I…” your throat tightens, choking off your words. No saliva is willing to slip down and coat the dryness, but you try again, “I won’t run…”

Toji laughs. Head thrown back. Hand still on his hip, Toji twists the blade in his grasp, nodding to himself, “Alright.”

It’s humiliating.

The way your legs tremble as you try to attack. The way your arms lock into place as you barely manage to meet Toji’s eyes.

It’s humiliating: the way you’re on your back so soon.

Toji’s eyes are still, steady in their hold on your own. However, you don’t return his simple gaze. Darting from Toji’s face to the blade above your chest to the gate Suguru and Riko had run through. The blade plunges down.

Your whole body starts to tingle. Deadening. You hear a crack right below your ear. Sunlight dancing off the sword in Toji’s big hands, it’s a lot brighter up close in your chest.

Air startles in your throat, and you cough. Crimson bubbles up with it. Somewhere in the back of your head, you know what this means. A punctured lung. Severed thoracic artery. But that isn’t your main focus.

Toji rips the sword from your chest, his palm pressing against your throat to keep your body down as he pulls the cursed tool free.

You and Shoko had to do a report on that tool back in your first year.

The Inverted Spear of Heaven. Cuts through any technique.

She’d probably laugh that you got attacked with it if she didn’t know you were dying. If she knew that she’d probably try healing you.

Toji turns his back to you, stuffing the Inverted Spear into the worm looming around his body. His hands go into his pockets. Jaw unhinging in a heavy yawn while he approaches the main chamber of Tengen’s tomb. You don’t think he hears you giggle. It probably wouldn’t matter anyway.

The blood is warm against your cheeks. Pooling beneath your head and soaking into your hair.

You giggle, remembering how childishly your stoic friend described the complicated nature of her reverse cursed technique.

How was it again?

Fwoy… then hiyo?

Your eyelids droop. Gaze unfocused on the sky.

Fwoy. Then hiyo.

“How do you feel?” Shoko scrubs her thumb over the smooth surface of her Zippo lighter within her pocket. Her tongue dances over her bottom lip, chapped and rough. She briefly wonders where her chapstick tube is before returning to the present, “Stronger?”

Satoru snickers, an arm draped over your shoulders loosely. It feels odd, somehow an indent against the back of your uniform and yet entirely weightless. He shrugs, “Nah. I was already the strongest, anyway.”

“No more bragging,” you nudge an elbow into his side, but the hit fails to connect, “Your ego has been fed enough for tonight. Don’t you think, Suguru?”

“Hm?” the boy’s hair flutters around his shoulders, head jerking into attention. His arms are folded across his chest and it takes an awfully silent pause before he responds, “Yeah,” he steps closer, blinking up at Satoru, “No more ego-feeding, now you get to feed us, hm?”

“Fine,” Satoru groans, as if that hadn’t been the plan since you all knew he was being promoted, “We have to be quick finding a place, though,” he tugs at the collar of his uniform stiffly, “I didn’t exactly call anywhere ahead.”

“You’re Gojo, Satoru,” Shoko jams a hand in her other pocket, searching for her missing chapstick, “You’ll get us anywhere.”

“So irresponsible,” you muse.

“Well! This is my night, you know?! Why am I supposed to be the event planner?”

“Just ‘cuz Yaga-sensei isn’t here,” Suguru ‘tsk’s, waggling a finger at his friend, “For shame, Satoru.”

The overhead neons and flashing bulbs cast menacing shadows over the pale plains of Suguru’s face. Shadows falling under the bags beneath his eyes.

You contemplate asking.

You know it’ll be pointless.

“Hey, have you been okay?” you whisper against Suguru’s side. His body is warm and tense beneath his loose, hanging, boring beige shirt.

His faraway stare sparks suddenly, shortening back to where you stand beside him. He smiles down at you, it doesn’t reach his eyes so he manually crinkles them shut. He nods curtly, “Yeah…” and then nods again, “Yeah.”

Special Grade is sent as a replacement.

“You’ll be okay,” your hands are cupped over the searing, jagged incision in Kento’s stomach, blood pooling around your fingers and knuckles, “You’ll be okay, right?”

Kento can’t hear you very well, just the bland rolls of your voice. Crackling and raspy from the pressure of screaming.

“Oh, God, Shoko- “ you look around the morgue, trying desperately to unlock that flame from last month. The one you harnessed to save yourself, now desperate to save your friend, “Haibara… God, oh God,” you want to reach out and cradle the other boy, “Nanami, please don’t die.”

The blond blinks up at you, and you’re not even sure he understood your weak plea.

You need to keep your hands on Kento’s wound, but you want to take Yu into your arms. If there is any chance that he could still be living, you want his last moments to be warm and loving. Yu is not someone that should die, but if he has to - it should be kindly. And this was not kindly.

“I’m here!” Shoko barges into the cold morgue, skin bristling with the chilled air. The metal door clangs loudly against the wall, her body moves swiftly through the area as if she’s done this countless times. She almost crashes into the steel table that Yu rests on, “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here…” she lays her hands on his cheeks, wiping at the blood splattered up his neck and chin, “I’m here…”

She cannot bring herself to look down at where the cloth over his body suddenly dips.

“Shoko,” your arms shake, “Shoko, you need to take care of Nanami.”

Her shoulders are tensed up to her bobbed hair. She steps back from Yu and joins your side at Kento’s body. Her hands overtake yours and you withdraw. The blood flows down your fingers and drips onto the floor.

“You,” Shoko whispers, shoulders still high, “Thank you.”

“I could only keep him alive,” you’re not nearly as adept at reverse cursed energy as Shoko, but you hope it was enough to at least save one friend tonight.

“Thank you,” she whispers, staring at Yu’s bisected corpse.

Satoru and Shoko are on opposite sides of Japan. Satoru is in Osaka, and Shoko is in Yamagata. Yaga-sensei is in Kyoto for the next week. You and Suguru are in Tokyo. You clasp his hand in yours.

“I’m really proud of you.”

Suguru brings you closer, his hand is warm. And large, “You’re Special Grade, too.”

“But I’m proud of you.”

He can still remember you as you were brought to him by Satoru. Blood drying and muddying in the weeds of your hair to your skull, crimson dyeing the cracks in your lips. Chest still and unbeating. No warmth in your veins. You would soon be ice cold.

You could have been.

And then you coughed and sputtered and shot up in Satoru’s arms, throwing him entirely off balance. The both of you had fallen over and you were the only one laughing it off.

You haven’t laughed like that since it sunk in what the darkness you saw before waking up was.

He remembers the anger he felt when he wasn’t able to maim Toji himself. The anger he felt over Toji being allowed to live into adulthood at all. That he could breed and eat and love like he was some kind of person. He should be dumb and drooling and helpless under Suguru’s palm like any other wild animal. That anger was so palpable that he couldn’t sleep for the next two days.

Then there was the mourning.

He never wants to see you like that again. Not to a bare-fisted, feral monkey. And not to a curse.

He’s sick at the thought.

“I’m proud of you, too,” he squeezes your hand. The lights of Tokyo continue to do his gaunt face no justice. Pale skin stretched over aching bone. He smiles, and he does not bother trying to make his eyes squint up.

He wishes that you being a fellow Special Grade could ease his worries. But even as you walk hand-in-hand back to the dorms, that image of you - still and cold - refuses to go down.

“I just want you to hear it from me. I know what I’ve done. I’m in my right mind. I just couldn’t let them… this village was full of non-sorcerers who tortured two girls with cursed energy. I have to make this world better for… I can’t sit back and let them form curses and kill us off. I can’t let a corrupt world continue to cut away at everyone I love. Do with this as you will, I won’t be mad if it becomes evidence against me. Just… don’t show Satoru. If I can keep some sort of reputation with him, then for now I’d like to. But I don’t regret it. I just regret not being able to say this in person.”

You play the voicemail again.

And again.

And again.

And you don’t show Satoru. Or Yaga. Or Gakuganji.

It was a simple job. Get in. Exorcize a curse from a dead-end 9-5 office. Get out. You and Satoru were quick enough - got in and exorcized the curse in the dead-end 9-5 office - and now to get out.

You watch your janky, funhouse reflection in the steel elevator doors. It’s a blurry and stretched thing, but it’s you. You look up and watch the floors tick, tick, tick down.

Satoru is leaning against the wall to your right, his left leg is bent out with his shoe jammed rudely against the wall. His eyes pierce the back of your head. He can’t tell if you’re intentionally ignoring him or just that dense; either way, he hates it.

He scoffs, “I don’t get it.”

“Get what, Satoru?”

Satoru folds his arms - he can't pinpoint it, but these days you make him sick - “He just left. Like it was that easy. Like…”

He wants to see you react. He wants to watch you clench your fists and bow your head, but you don’t. Instead, you say, “It was that easy for him. He hated how the school does things, so he left. He hated that village, so he got rid of it.”

Kicking himself off the wall, Satoru throws his arms out for emphasis. Too bad you’re still staring at that damn floor counter, “So just picking up and leaving us was that easy? He could’ve called us! He could’ve said how he was feeling!”

You swallow thickly, heat clings to the back of your neck.

“But he didn’t,” your hands are limp at your sides, voice shallow, “Trying to find purpose in things you’ll never know the answer to will drive you insane. He left - he isn’t coming back. And if he does, it’ll be to die.”

“We could’ve done something!” Satoru’s voice cracks in the middle, his nails stabbing into his palms.

“But we didn’t. And now we can’t.”

“Why aren’t you angry?!” he shoves you from behind. His hands are neither hot nor cold. Not soft or rough. The space of his infinity doesn’t feel like anything even though it still stubs against your uniform, “Dammit, don’t you care?!”

You stumble from the force of his push, quickly regaining balance and turning to look at Satoru. Your brows crinkle just slightly, lips tugging down at the corners, “Trying to find answers for something you’ll never know will drive you crazy. It’s best to just let it go.”

There’s a flame behind those crystalline eyes, his fists dig into his thighs, “How can you do that?”

“What? Move on?”

“Not care.”

“I care.”

“You don’t,” his throat bobs, white eyelashes batting shut and chin tucking down to his chest. His voice wavers, “Suguru was the only other person that could understand my every thought. He wasn’t someone you could find just anywhere. He was someone I couldn’t imagine going a day without, and now every day is one without him. He never told us what was going on, and he left without so much as a goodbye. And you don’t care! Why don’t you care?!”

“Suguru had his reasons,” you reach out, fingers brushing against the sheer nothingness of his infinity and entwining your hand with his. It isn’t hot or cold. Just imperceivable space between your palms, “I’ll never know them, not like he did. So I can’t waste my time pretending that one day I will. It hurts that he’s gone, and I wish I could’ve done more. But I didn’t. And I can’t. Suguru isn’t coming back, and if he does it’s to die,” you lean down to try and catch Satoru’s eyes through the pitch-black shades of his glasses, “We might even have to be the ones that kill him. I’m letting it go before I go crazy.”

“You already are,” he sniffs, “That’s why you don’t cry when your friend goes off to die.”

“And you’re too obsessive over it,” you release his hand, winding your grip into the front of Satoru’s uniform and yanking him close, “That’s why you’re so blinded by Suguru leaving that you can’t see me and Shoko still on the sidelines. Have you even asked how Shoko is?”

Satoru snatches your wrist. The pressure is intense and unmistakably inhuman, “Let go of me.”

“Or what?”

Despite not being too far from the colored flushes of busy Shibuya in Tokyo, Jujutsu Tech has a grandiose view of the stars. Especially if you sneak up onto the roof of the dorms, edging slightly past the lower hanging trees. You can stare up at the endless void of space and get an eyeful of the stars blinking down at you without having to squint through gaps in leaves. You can sit quietly and feel the gentle breeze caress over your exposed skin. And you could pretend you are alone until the creaking of a second pair of feet echoes behind you.

There’s no need to turn, having already known who the second pair of skittish feet belong to. And knowing that, means knowing what you want to say first,

“I don’t know how to do this for the rest of my life.”

“You don’t have to. Sorcerers don’t usually live long enough for it to matter.”

“It should matter!” Satoru snaps, he glares at you sharply, “I should’ve been able to be a kid! We should’ve been able to be kids!”

You sigh quietly, looking off to the side, afraid that staring too deeply into Satoru’s uncovered eyes may have the same effect as the sun, “The life of a sorcerer is pointless. An under-manned army that gets no thanks. You can accept that and come back, or don’t. Don’t, and go live a more fulfilling life, knowing that you are the strongest and knowing that you made a choice unlike any other sorcerer before you. But someone else will have to take your place.”

Satoru blinks up at you slowly. His long white lashes frame his eyes, his cheeks are sunken and thin. Eggshell, almost, in color. His chest rises, a loud inhale flowing with the movement before he blows it out just as noisily, “That’s bleak.”

“Right?”

“You sound like you’re guilt-tripping me.”

“Maybe a little.”

Because maybe you are. But you mean every word you say.

Satoru can make any decision he wants, but he will have to wake up knowing there are many lives he could’ve saved. And he’ll pretend it doesn’t haunt him the same way Suguru tried to. And he will fail the same way Suguru did.

“Whatever you pick, just remember that Shoko and I are still your friends,” you sit beside him and lean into his side, “We were friends with Sugu’, too.”

“I know. It’s just hard.”

His skin is warm and flush against yours. His head leans onto yours. Hair soft and tickling your forehead.

“Then let it be hard, but don’t pretend you’re all alone.”

And Satoru can’t very well leave you and Shoko and Kento to die as the only remaining students at Jujutsu Tech, so he will return and doom himself to the life of a sorcerer. And he will kill Suguru so that you do not have to.

[goth-mami-writer]

A post about my life lately.

(If you fucking care ✌️🫠)

⚠️Tw: There's some mentions in this that may stir certain emotions regarding✨️pro-choice✨️mindsets (abortion) and vomiting. So if you think that's gonna upset you, don't interact pls. Thx.⚠️

Soooooooo-

I've been away. And here's why without being theatrical - I found out I was pregnant again. And....I wasn't happy.

I'm a mom to 1 already and...I knew that I couldn't do it again. It's hard, to be as frank as I can. The physical effect of pregnancy on the body is something...I despise? I had awful, TERRIBLE sickness the first time anddd fuck, it was the same this time.

Yeah, no. You can go ahead and count me out.

Well- Were you using BiRtH CoNtrOl?!, you may ask?

Yes. Abso-fuckin-lutely. I had an IUD inserted two months after I had my first kid. Cause FUCK THAT. I knew I didn't want another. My son's awesome. Being his mom is my reason for living. But pregnancy is not for me.

So- this being the decision, I fucking called the one person I goddamn trust and that's Mera. ❤️ @short-honey-badger

And bitch, did we plan a trip. We had to drive OUT OF OUR STATE TO RECEIVE THE CARE NECESSARY. (That's a topic for another day tho t-.-t )

✨️Anyways,✨️ Mera is a badass and drove me to said appointment as I'm fighting the most debilitating nausea. All I could stand to eat without vomiting was fucking popsicles and slushies. So yum at 5 am, BTW.

~But here's where shit gets wild~

I show up, ready to have this done. Get on with my life. Maybe start writing again because I know that I'll feel better. The nurses and staff were incredible and sweet. But there was one problem.....my IUD was out of place, they tell me.

Okay? I knew that, right? Obviously, that's why it didn't work and I got pregnant. Makes sense.

NONONONO. I'm laying on a table out of my home state, laughing gassed out of MY FUCKING MIND, with a lady doctor telling me in the calmest demeanor that she can that I need FUCKING ✨️EMERGENCY SURGERY✨️

LIKE. HOW DO YOU REACT...TO THAT?

So...the staff is obviously letting me recover from the procedure- THE ONE I JUST HAD. and now I'm being fed all this medical jargon basically saying that if I didn't receive surgery, this IUD was gonna tear its way into my other organs because it was already embedded in the muscle tissue of my abdomen.

Fucking AWESOME.

Luckily, all these people were contracted to the local hospital in this city and they were going to let them know I was coming over and all that good jazz, but I basically needed to get over there. Like...now. RIGHT NEOW. 💀

So then it's me and Mera just navigating parts of a city that we just DO NOT fucking know, trying to get me to said hospital where this surgery needed to take place. It wasn't far but goddamn this hospital had absolute SHIT parking. It was a monster to fucking navigate as well. Luckily, I was on some good pain meds that were keeping me kinda stable, but ooohhhh, not for long.

We get checked into the ER and yeah, I started HURTING. Not to mention also, viciously nauseous once again. But this time, because I hadn't eaten anything since 5am and I was told that it would basically be fucking ILLEGAL for me to eat again until I got off this operating table.

Fucking. AWESSOMMEE.

(I thought you said it was an emergency, why didn't they have you in OR yet??)

I HAD TO WAIT FOR THESE MFS TO GET THERE, HOLD ON.

My particular case needed staffing of crazy ass doctors to oversee this procedure. I swear to God, I met like 5 people in the four hours that I sat in the emergency room before being prepped for surgery.

I was rolled out for testing like four different times! All kinds of shit just being shot into my IV while I'm still fucked up on the first dose of morphine that's still whooping my ass in and out of consciousness as Mera is at my bedside like,

"O.o u okay?" (Bc she's an angel that stayed with me during the entirety of this fucking insanity like T-T)

FINALLY. I got into my fucking surgery. It went fine, everything is fine. But goddamn, I'm exhausted. Mera was exhausted. We'd been up for almost 24hrs at this point in the day and now I'm finally being admitted into an actual room for post-op recovery.

That next morning before my discharge, I was let know the gravity of my situation and things like that. I was reassured that nothing I did caused this IUD to move. And that meant one thing-

It was never inserted correctly in the first place.

✨️So✨️ let me be the first one to tell you- please. For the love of FUCK. Go get your IUD checked. Via fucking ultrasound.

Don't let that sassy nurse stick a speculum in your fuggin hoo-haa and tell you she can see the strings so you're good.

Guess what? EVERYONE SAW MY STRINGS TOO.

Check your IUD!!! Or you're gonna be knocked up, getting a little pregnancy✨️deletion✨️ in a strange state where a really nice lady doctor is gonna tell you that you're like weeks away from internally bleeding and need dire abdominal surgery to prevent that. And all you're gonna have is your bestfriend who you feel terrible for bc she didn't sign up for any of this bullshit. But there you are, passed out on morphine, hungry, confused, nauseous and WAITING FOR SURGEONS.

GO TO THE GYNECOLOGIST. NEOW. 💀

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower: Book 1, chapter 15

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: Our flashback is a bit.. Uhum. Steamy? AN: Do we get our conversation? How childish will Mia be? Can she act like a goddamn adult? LETS FIND OUT!

Masterlist

~~~~~~<3

It had been four days. Four long, slow days. Four days where Mia could try to think without the overwhelming presence of a stranger in her space. Four days where Mia found herself longing for that presence.

Tom had been gone for four days and it had been twenty four hours since she had heard from Tom. Radio silence filled the air, though she tried to drown it out with music, television and conversations. How could silence gnaw at her heart in the very same way as the insane devotion that radiated off him did?

He was busy. He was working. He was… not here. And that bothered her. A lot. It shouldn’t, but it did. And that killed her. Not physically, but god did she kind of wish it did. 

She wasn’t clingy typically but she couldn’t help it. This was his fault. He demanded that she invest. How could she not when he insisted on finding any crack in her heart to worm his way in and try to find purchase to take root. 

He had made her think he was different. Hell, he had all but said he was different.

This was supposed to be different. 

But here she was, four days alone.

Sally was asleep and the apartment was large, empty and frigidly silent. She had worked a early shift and tomorrow had a late one. Exhaustion was deep in her bones but she needed to stay up way too late tonight. 

What was it like to have someone to be at home with, to not be alone in the silence of the night when she had no choice but play chicken with the morning light? 

A ping from her phone caught her attention. Glancing at it, she saw it was just another news push notification. It wasn’t a feature she wanted but it was installed automatically with the latest software update. There was enough in her life to be anxious about without getting 24 hour updates every day of the year on what god awful thing was happening in another state or country. It had been a few weeks but she hadn’t been able to figure out how to turn it off. 

It was just a matter of time until she figured it out though. She swore it. Every time it had gone off it had given her false hope that he finally sent something, she swore she’d figure it out. 

This was ridiculous. 

The reason for the radio silence was obvious. She had been right and he realized it. It was that simple. No need to pine, question and dance like a goddamn schoolgirl. 

With time away, Tom realized that everything Mia had said Saturday morning was right. In a few days or a few weeks she would get a notice from some lawyer initiating the annulment. Would he cancel the card he left for her to use? 

It’s not like it was hard to replace, really. It was just a credit card, he obviously could live without the physical card for a while. How hard would it really be on him if he changed his mind?

“Some promise that was.” Mia tossed the card absently onto the end table next to her. 

Ping. 

Ignore it. There was no point in checking. It wasn’t him. it was never him. 

Okay, she was being a bit dramatic. Really dramatic, maybe. She didn’t know. It was dumb. She was being dumb. It was too soon to decide he ghosted her. 

“Fuck,” She slumped back on the couch. “I guess I’ll be able to say I got ghosted by an actor.” 

Ping.

She couldn’t help it, she grabbed her phone knowing exactly what she’d find. It would be a second news story of little to no importance to her day to day life. An auto accident near by that slowed traffic patterns or a missing person on the other side of the country. A storm in Brazil or a heatwave in India. It would be a protest in China. It would be nothing.

It was a text message from contact Tom. 

“Can I call?” The message read. Another followed, “It’s late, I know.” 

She sent a single k back and waited for the other shoe to drop. There was nearly no wait for the phone to come to life in her hand. She hadn’t added a picture to his contact, it was just Tom H lighting up her screen. 

Nothing more. 

She took a deep breath and answered, “Hello,” 

“Is everything alright?” Tom’s tone was difficult to pinpoint. 

“Yeah-” She cleared her throat and sat up. “I’m fine. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Just lay it on me.”

“Lay what on you?” Tom sounded confused and that confused her. “What are you talking about?” 

“You haven’t said anything, all day.” Her eyes burned and her throat felt tight. She needed air. The apartment was suffocating as she stood. 

“It has been a minute, I suppose.” He was picking his words carefully. 

“Can you just- why are you calling?” The glass door slid closed behind her. If Tom was going to do whatever she wanted to not have to worry about Sally waking up for it. 

“I wanted to talk to you?” Tom sounded unsure, on the other side of the country he had found himself off balance.

“About what?” Mia felt the anger sweeping in to push away her sadness. It wasn’t healthy but it was a bad habit that she often found solace in. Anger was safe. For her at least, not those in her way. 

“You’re upset with me?” 

“Stop asking questions.” Mia snapped. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to make sure you got the couch alright.” Tom’s voice was starting to pull tight. “Why did you think I wanted to call?” 

“To tell me I was right.” Mia’s voice cracked. This was it, their first fight was going to happen and it hadn’t even been two weeks. “To tell me…” 

Tom’s tone changed from the defensive and softened considerably. He may not be able to read her mind but he knew she was hurting. “I’m not calling to ask for an annulment. Why on earth did you think that?” 

“You never texted back. You stopped talking and I just- It’s been over a day and it’s been slowing down. It was just-” she clamped down on the words as her voice threatened to give away how close she was to tears, that safe anger winking out in her shame. 

“You missed me?” his voice was so soft. “I got absorbed in work. I’m sorry.” 

“No, no.” Mia forced a chuckle. It was all a misunderstanding. She was acting like a love sick schoolgirl. She was a grown ass woman married to a grown ass man. She shouldn’t be crying and thinking their marriage is over just because he didn’t text her for a day. “I swear- I’m not clingy.” 

“It’s alright.” Somewhere on the other side of the universe, he sat down heavily on the too big bed. “Things are new and delicate. I’m just as guilty for not being aware.” Silence ticked on. While they had texted while he was away (until it stopped) they hadn’t actually talked on the phone. 

“I saw part of your interview.” Mia wasn’t sure why she said it. 

“Which one?” Tom asked, his voice warming to life. “What did you think?” 

“The one where you talked about me.” 

“Did I- Was what I said alright?” Tom wasn’t totally sure which one she was talking about but he didn’t want to complicate things more. 

“I don’t like lying.” Mia said. “I know why you need to but I don’t like it.” 

“It’s not really lying, its just implying different and reinforcing our privacy.” That still sounded like lying to Mia but she let it go. She was pretty sure he more than implied they knew eachother for longer than a night in the segment she watched anyway. 

He could lie so easily and didn’t even agree with her on the definition of lying. The fact that he played pretend well enough to do it for a living showed he was good at telling lies too. 

Shaking her head, she pushed the thoughts away. Tom had never given her a reason to think he would lie to her. He has been earnest and honest from the moment they woke up Saturday. 

“Hiding parts of my private life is just a fact of my life. If I want to hold anything back for myself without the public picking it apart, it needs to be protected from them.”

“I know.” Mia sighed as she leaned against the railing. The fight felt like it had been narrowly avoided. 

“It’s people in my life I tell the truth but to protect the people in my life I don’t tell the world the whole truth.”

“I know, I know-”

“It’ll take time to get used to.” 

Silence filled the air again. This time it didn’t have that same icy chill to it. She had missed him and that scared her. 

“Tom?” Her heart beat too hard in her chest. Did he miss her? Even just a little? 

He hummed on the other side of the universe and she wondered what he was doing. They had a time difference of three hours. It was late for her but even later for him. Was he preparing to go to bed? Was he just getting in from a night on the town?

“What is it?” He asked after she failed to say anything. 

She wanted to tell him she missed him. She wanted to ask when he was going to come back. She hated it. 

“Don’t be a stranger.” God, that was so lame. Out of everything she could have said, that’s what she came up with?

“I have been, haven’t I?” It was Mia’s turn to be silent. She wasn’t sure what to say. It was weird to be married to a man she didn’t know.

“I mean, what’s what we kind of still are, aren’t we?” It was the best she could come up with to say. 

“I’m sorry. I’d gotten busy and fallen away from texting you. I- Luke tacked on a few appearances. The trip got extended. Usually it’s nothing, I didn’t think anything of it. Until I did. But by then- I didn’t know what to say.”

The ability to apologize was not one that Mia had seen much in the men that had spent time in her life. It reassured her that he could do something as simple as say ‘sorry’.

“I should be back by Friday.” Tom said, sounding sure. Just as sure as he had sounded before he left. “I promise.” 

“Don’t.” Mia’s voice came harder than she intended. “Don’t promise if you don’t have control over keeping it.” 

“Mia-”

“I need to get to bed. Work tomorrow.”

What moments of warmth they had shared during the call had cooled. Would it always be like this? She hoped not. Could she ever feel safe enough to stop icing him out as soon as things warmed up? 

“I’ll call again tomorrow?” Tom fell back on the hotel bed. This call had not gone how he intended but who’s fault was that? He should have just told her when the plan changed. 

“If you want.” She didn’t know what else to say as she stepped back into the apartment, locking the sliding door behind her. 

“I do want.” Tom hesitated, “It’s good to hear your voice. To talk to you. I missed you.”

She didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t say anything. Her heart pounded in her chest and her hands trembled. “Goodnight, Tom.” Was what she managed to squeak out before disconnecting the call.

~~~~~<3

Tom pressed her against the door. His hand was large and firm against her waist, holding her right where he wanted. Fumbling, with his wallet trapped in his pocket, he struggled with the other hand. His pants were tight around his hips and his current state of mind didn’t help matters. 

Her nails scratched at the hair at the back of his neck as she clung to him. It felt like she was floating, swimming through a sea of desire and alcohol. She needed him. She wanted him. “Hurry.” 

“Got it.” The wallet slipped out. It was a struggle to flip it open with one hand, then find the hotel keycard. In the process of getting the card out, he dropped the leather wallet to the floor. 

His breath was hot in her ear. Lips worked, leaving harsh kisses along her neck. As he worked the card into the slot, he moved his hand from her waist to her breast, stopping for a firm squeeze that had a soft moan slip from her lips. 

“I need you.” She whimpered as the door beeped, denying entry. 

“Who do you need?” Tom asked as he flipped the card around, trying different sides hoping one would work.

“My husband.” That set fire to him. 

The door beeped the correct tune this time, granting them entry. Tom hooked the door handle with his hand, slapping it down clumsily after yanking the card from the door. The door swung open, no longer providing a solid surface to support their weight. 

Tom held her up with a arm flung around her waist as they stumbled in. He kicked blindly, relying on feel alone to help him ensure he kicked his wallet somewhere into the room.

“My wife.” Tom breathed as he kicked the door shut behind them. Alone at last. 

~~~~~<3

Taglist:

@winterisakiller, @alexakeyloveloki, @jennyggggrrr @dangertoozmanykids101, @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom  @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze @kats72 @soulpiercing @evedia

[lostfracturess]

i’ve got my work laptop out and my phone in hand to live react to this chapter 😼

omg i kneww it was the fkn student he punched. satoru’s so sweet to not want to drag her into a courtcase though.

kafka 😩🫶🏼💕 ive been on such a kafka kick lately omg (not so much reading his actual works but looking at kafka tumblr quotes 😔 i feel motivated to actually read his works now) also the way he sees her?? we’re so beautiful to him 🤭

“what a fucked up way to describe it. a child, small and defenseless against an unyielding force. where was the justice in that?”

☹️☹️☹️ ok i’m teared up. wtf.

“for all her strength and boldness, there was this fragile core to her. one that the world, am i, seemed intent on bruising.”

😩🤚🏼 i feel for reader fr she can do no wronggg in my eyes omg i can FEEL the stress of all this fkn research & trials gone wrong omg. she’s such an empath and it’s takin a toll on my girl over here

OHMYGOSHHH she saw the lawyer papers plsss higurama you had one job 😓 also i know im supposed to hate how secretive n stubborn he is but something ab his habit of shutting reader up w kisses 😩🤚🏼 i like my men toxic like that LMFAO

yaga laying innnn on him omg i love the consequences of his actions catching up to him. the forbidden romance is forbidden romancinggg. THE ETHICS COMMITTEE….hmm i mean considering the power dynamic i think satoru would def be the one to take the brunt of accusation if they were caught 🤔 i really wonder if reader would receive as heavy of a fall from grace as he would

omg the elevator stuck scene 🫣 PLS HE CONSIDERS FUCKING HER IN THE ELEVATOR!!?? IM SCREAMING. also they need to stop talking ab thisss in the elevator omg ppl might be listening or recording 😔 where is higurama w the legal counsel.

i cant tell if its my iced coffee giving me palpitations rn or if its your fucking writing (most likely latter). i looove how theyre resolved to try n keep each other tho :”) despite facing the things going on rn.

sheesh those lab results lmao that patient’s liver gotta be fucked 🤣 Oh WHAT ITS SATORU’s LIVER 😨 NOOO.

aw a signed kafka book?!? 😩🤚🏼 lord…

im on the basketball scene and ugggh first of all basketball satoru?!?! NEED. just imagining his arm muscles flexing while he’s shootin a shot 😩 also he’s sooo whipped for her oh my god. need a man who loves this deeply.

OHY MY GOD A SPARE TO HIS APARTMENT ITS SO REAL. ITS ALL FEELING SO REAL RN. SCREAMING. TRYING SO FKN HARD TO HIDE THE SMILE ON MY FACE RN.

oh god i cant ice ant i cant the hydropmorphone this sshift in energy i cant. to the bathroom for my ten min i go because i alr know imma need to scream for this 😭😭😭

NO WAAAYYY HE’s DOIN DRUGSS OFF OF HER IM ABOUT TO LOSE MY GODDAMN MIND. OH MY GOD IM CLUTCHING MY PEARLS RN. OVER SUGURU’s FUCKING DESK?!????

OH. MY. GOD. SATORU IS THE FUCKING DEVIL. HE’s THE DEVIL. I……….I JUST GOT TO THE END. I COULD DEADASS SCREAM RN. THE— THE GUMPTION. THE GALL?!?!? TO LICK HIS FUCKING FINGERS.

i…….🧍🏻‍♀️i’m literally shaking. im SHAKING like IM the one w a panic attack or withdrawal rn. you ate this chapter up. you ate this chapter ALL the way fucking up and i could cry rn. no words. pheewww AND IM SUPPOSED TO MOVE ON W MY DAY AFTER THIS?!????!

fuck.

girl you make me cry with your comments! 😭❤️ yes, satoru is such a sweetheart for dealing with the lawsuit with money that she wouldn't have to go to court, even if that means he would have to swallow that bitter pill. green flag!!

and yes, pls pls read kafka! there are a lot of short books and stories of him that are just like a four hour read but so worth it, can't recommend that enough!!

OHMYGOSHHH she saw the lawyer papers plsss higurama you had one job

higurma must have done it on purpose i'm so sure!! like i wrote it, but still am not quite convinced it was a coincidence ahhh! and him shutting her up with kisses is EVERYTHING. bit toxic okay, but EVERYTHING.

the forbidden romance is forbidden romancinggg.

yes, the forbidden romance is catching up to them, how would have thought. like satoru was not even trying to hide it that much, but now he's surprised?? he's so stupid.

PLS HE CONSIDERS FUCKING HER IN THE ELEVATOR!!?? IM SCREAMING.

yeeeessss!! he really considered it a split second as he knows that will work quite good to shut her up ahaha he's so miserable with talking and feelings. but he sure knows what he's good at and how to use that. 🌚🌚

im on the basketball scene and ugggh first of all basketball satoru?!?! NEED. just imagining his arm muscles flexing while he’s shootin a shot

yes!!! i want to rewrite this scene out of reader pov just to be able to describe a bit of how this mf handsome man looked in this scene for us to please ahhhh.

also he’s sooo whipped for her oh my god. need a man who loves this deeply.

he's down bad for her and this will be his undoing. but yes, everyone deserves a man how's on his knees for his girl!!!

NO WAAAYYY HE’s DOIN DRUGSS OFF OF HER IM ABOUT TO LOSE MY GODDAMN MIND.

he's so fkn feral omg, like he really got some nerves doing that aahhhhh. also over suguru's desk ahahah. still he could lick every drug he wants from my body at any time ngl.

I COULD DEADASS SCREAM RN. THE— THE GUMPTION. THE GALL?!?!? TO LICK HIS FUCKING FINGERS.

HE HAS NO SHAME!!! this man is so unhinged and i loved every second writing him like that. he maybe is about to lose his mind but he's still serving while going insane!!

thank you so so much for your comments on this chapter, is was so funny to see your reaction while reading!!! thank you so so much for your support and taking your time to write this (also on your rec on the story??? reposting this in a minute), wishing you nothing but the best! 🥲🫶🫶

[the-new-kiddo-on-the-block]

A Detailed Report on Hawthorn Suites in Henderson, Nevada

(from a former Employee)

----------

Okay so as it's my last day at this miserable goddamn shithole of a job, so, in accordance with my leaving, I just want to make a cautionary remark to anyone in Vegas/Henderson who wants to work here:

DO NOT APPLY TO THESE ASSHOLES FOR SHIT. Don't even stayover.

Lemme explain-

Ok so, it seems nice, right? I mean, sure, it looks so nice, don't it? And the pay seems fair, and it sounds like pretty simple work.

It looks so spacious and clean and pristine-

Unfortunately, the truth lies within the poor reviews on Google, Expedia, Booking.com and Priceline.

These pictures? Hardly how the actual place looks, save the lobby and exterior photos.

The flooring is old. The walls are so thin that it's hard to get a good night's rest. Rooms have been put out of order, and they even have a condemned room on the third floor. Transients and all manner of folk come into the hotel, and as much I hate to say it, the managers on duty do not give as much of a shit as they say they do; they basically talk out of their asses.

Maintenance issues are a problem daily- from the elevator being down to the pool being cleaned, to tvs and baths and washing machines not working, to even leaks weeping from the floors above- and the place is severely understaffed. Everyone is working themselves stupid while the hiring manager stays home and barely comes in unless necessary; and is, suffice to say, an absolute weasel.

Think of Fawlty Towers with Basil, except nothing's fucking funny about anything happening there.

Now, some younger peeps and people who don't watch British television might not get that reference, but for those that do, you're the real ones.. and you know what I mean when I say this place is a heaping dung pile they try to shine up for hiring candidates.

They don't tell you upon hiring that they have several security cameras out, no door locks to the front or back entrances, several problems with their luggage carts, etc. They don't tell you that they run in with awful folk who will very likely threaten you, the company, and the job you have. They also won't tell you, probably until you're hired, that the elevator has major issues and, as I'm writing this, has been shut down already for over two months.

Did I mention that door locks often don't work and often need to be replaced in guests rooms, and god forbid it happen on swing shift? Cuz it's the front desk's responsibility, at night, to handle all guests needs.

Oh yeah, there's some fine print for ya. You have to work four different jobs at once.

And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Now, I could just be saying all this, I could just be blowing hot steam at a job I have worked half a year for--

HERE ARE SOME ACTUAL GODDAMN REVIEWS ON THE PLACE IN THE LAST SEVEN MONTHS:

Y e a h.

And this is from more recent and unhappy customers.

Past coworkers have even reached out to me after only working a few shifts to tell me their horror stories and why they ended up quitting. Or even intending to quit.

Employees are overworked and underpaid. $13 an hour to be exact, starting. If you have some experience, they might bump you up for a dollar more before deciding if they want you as a manager or not. Then again, they already have three working managers as of this year, so they don't need someone to be in charge-

They need sheeple to do what they say and ask without question, cuz they think they'll get productivity out of it.

And if you don't believe me? Talk with some of the long-standing guests over there, who have had to put up with bullshit from this hotel. They can tell you just how fucked the place is.

The managers only care about themselves. They don't care who they drag under, just to look like the better person, but they're greedy cheapskates. Overcharging their guests, who just want a nice place to stay away from the Strip. Getting stuff as cheaply as they can afford just to make guests times at the hotel a little easier.

And by cheap I mean they literally will order stuff from China and Costco, just to get it at cheap prices.

It gets worse. I don't know how, but it does.

The turnover for employees is incredibly bad. Like, employees have quit within days or weeks of starting. Some have lasted a few months, some only a day. I have only been there since August, and the place is just run foul and falling apart.

And if you're still considering working here? Good luck. This place will burn out so much hope and good out of you.

If you're considering staying here as a guest? Don't. You can do better. You really can. Seriously. Check out anywhere else on Boulder Highway or Henderson, and book ahead of time.

Oh yeah, the prices are off too. Rooms are anywhere between $99-150 on weekdays, and on weekends that shit doubles and possibly triples, depending on events and holidays. And if you have a pet? You would be better off leaving it or finding it a pet hotel, because they will charge you $27.09 for a pet every single day of your trip, as long as it's under 50 pounds. And there's a max of two pets per room. And emotional support animals aren't bypassed by the Hotel, so, they're getting charged. They have to be full-on service dog to stay for free. Period.

Oh, and the security deposit they mention online? $100. One fucking Benjamin. And locals have to pay that deposit in cash.

Yeah, you'd be better off elsewhere. Whether it's for a new job or staying over, just go somewhere else. Not worth it. The only good that came out of my working there was that I gained a shit-ton of confidence and know how a hotel fucking runs. And I have a deeper respect for all goddamn people who work at a hotel.

So, thank you Hawthorn Suites by Wyndham, Henderson, Nevada-- for being such a shit job and teaching me resilience.

[tamarakkoarchive]

Shin Megami Tensei III livetweet thread (1/3)

👀

lol chiaki sounds exactly the same as asahi... lack of diverse VAs aside i wasn't expecting her voice to be this squeaky

...ok chiaki annoyed me enough so i'm playing with no voices LOL

damn bro if it's indeed the same VA as asahi it's so funny... the frickin same reason i preferred to play with no voices in both games

~

wasn't pixie supposed to be so small she could fit in your hand iirc... she's so huge in nocturne

~

i was already like ‘whaaat, smt4 was harder than this’ but then amala network happened

okay fuck me, I didn’t know pixie was gonna get rid of dia when I let her change her skills, now I only have one (1) demon able to heal

~

LOL i took hrs to realize kagutsuchi is the word they use for moon cycle

me a gazillion yrs ago playing soul hackers: i wonder what mag stands for nocturne: this

and the first thing i noticed in smt3 was the lack of the mag system yet ironically the game themes ARE centered in mag itself so??¿¿

~

my gamer food (it's cashew soda)

~

smt3 is giving me p3 flashbacks of the game having -such- an atmospheric mood it makes you sleepy as hell

~

does demifiend learn almighty skills? im thinking of a magic build but I’m unsure so for now I’m only giving him lots of agility lol

he has such a physical attacker vibe tho... i just love seeing him punch the lights out of a jack frost

~

lmao shit here he comes

~

i find nekomata cringe as hell when they make her walk on all fours but when she's on two feet i'm like oh yeah... she's actually cool

~

losing one hour of grinding because a mf used last resort

~

spent so much time going back and forth this place his shorts must smell awful

i've seen plenty of nsfw of demifiend but none that depicts his dick. has someone ever attempted to draw how his tattoo looks down there

i have like a gazillion demifiend doujins and they're all good but none showed his demon balls. a shame

~

BE NICE TO HIM

~

i nicknamed demifiend nao from naoki and i keep thinking about naoya from p1 because i nicknamed him nao too... nao duo

~

nocturne has this thing where to get the actual treasure from chests instead of trash you have to walk in circles like an idiot until the moon cycle is full and this turns into the reason for a big part of my deaths because you end up having to fight enemies a lot

~

i could say a million things about why demifiend's design works so damn well to the point of being peak protag look but i'll keep things simple by saying i just love characters with shitty bangs

✔️ simplicity ✔️ shows forehead ✔️ half naked ✔️✔️✔️ who the FUCK cut their hair

~

me: the last boss wasn’t that hard, maybe i overgrinded or something haha raidou: 🔫

i have no words

you wanna fuck me so bad don't you

~

it would've been cool if there was some perceptible difference gameplay-wise in demifiend "calling" for his demon allies as an equal instead of "summoning" like a traditional summoner

~

look how sexy he is in the darkness... glow stick boi

~

first matador, then raidou, now this bullshit

i'll definitely cheat if i have to get this goddamn magatama again but wtf... NOT ONLY THEY ARE AWFULLY HARD BUT THEY'RE SO MANY IN A ROW

i'm lit letting the switch on sleep mode all the time, turn it on just to solve a few of these and then back to sleep mode so i can recover from my baldness

god i was already mentally prepared to be given some incredibly shitty reward but fine. we good. geis rights

get the fuck outta my face before i give you a flick in the head

"oh come on these puzzles couldn't have taken that long to-"

i was playing the whole game so far solely thru a wide tv screen but for these last ghoulish 17hrs is when i convinced myself to play on handheld mode for less mental damage

~

our thong catboy

i used to sleep on his design for years but now i get it. espe after finding out his butt is exposed

NOOOOOOOOO IT WAS COVERED IN NOCTURNE

who's the fucking furry that made him buttnaked in dx2

~

me with persona: sigh okay there's the option to bang your teacher… whatever me with nocturne: aw demifiend totally wants to bang his teacher 🥺 u a teacher boi aint u???

~

i have no idea which route i'm going lol i'm just choosing whatever option fits the mood of the scene and compared to SJ or smt4, here the things are a bit less... obvious i guess

~

> paralyzed status doesn't go away even after battle > dis-stun is like 450macca, have to save money for magatamas > gets fed up, goes searching for a kelpie with paraladi > keeps getting paralyzed by setantas nonstop while the fucking kelpie never shows up

[subspencer]

spencer has been on a case for a couple weeks now, and he’s coming back tonight. his plane was delayed so he wouldn’t have gotten home until really late so you try your hardest to stay awake by doing different things that google says helps, and eventually you fall asleep reading a book or something and when spencer comes home he sees you and just moves you to get comfy and kisses your head, then you wake up and then some fluff or smut doesn’t matter<33

hiii i wrote this all last night! it’s a bit of both fluff and smut! 

wc: 1.4k    

According to Google, the scent of pumpkin was known to arouse men, especially when combined with the scent of lavender. So you lit a bunch of different candles, a few of both scents, plus dozens of smaller ones to line the windowsills. 

Chocolate is another aphrodisiac, as you’ve heard. You hand-dipped fresh strawberries in the fanciest chocolate money could buy, plating them up next two two champagne flutes and a chilled bottle of bubbly. It was the least you and Spencer deserved after weeks apart. 

Everything looked great, until he texted you at nine-thirty in the evening, at the time you were expecting his plane to land.

I’m so sorry, a massive storm came through. Plane never left. We’re getting back on now, hope to land in a few hours. 

Well, fuck. You were so prepared for him; all dressed up, glasses already poured, candles lit, and a set of new lingerie on.  

But it was only three hours. That’s all that separated you from Spencer, and after so many days, you could manage to busy yourself for a few hours. He was worth the wait. 

You passed eighty minutes by watching some tv, another twenty while playing a game on your phone, and twenty more by going back to the tv. Two hours down, one more to go. But you made the fatal mistake of having some of that champagne while you waited, and staying awake seemed harder to do with every passing minute.

With no coffee in the house to keep yourself up, you resorted to the internet again. The first search result was a listicle of tips and tricks:

1. Get Up and Walk Around  

Okay, done. And while you walked around, you also accomplished tip number four, “Eat a Healthy Snack to Boost Energy”. With a whole, peeled carrot in one hand, you paced around Spencer’s apartment while chomping on the vegetable for a good ten minutes. 

It worked, but only a little. So, you tried another item.

5. Start a Conversation to Wake Up Your Mind

It was a total bust. At goddamn eleven forty five in the evening, on a week night, not many people would be excited to pick up the phone. You tried a few numbers and all of them went to voice mail. 

On to the next one.

3. Give Your Eyes a Break

Okay, so no screens. You put your phone down, shut the television off, and walked over to Spencer’s bookcase. Running your fingers along their spines, you were in awe of how many books he had. It was too many to pick from, so instead, you went to his bedside table and picked up the book he was last reading in bed. 

You almost fell into the trap of sitting in bed to read it. You knew if you did that, you’d fall asleep right away. So you took it to the couch, grabbing one of his sweaters off his armchair on the way, and tossing it overhead.

In a bid of hope, you never got out of that lingerie you put on for him, but now it was starting to get chilly. You promised yourself to take it off the second you heard his keys hit the door; he’d never have to know you were anything less than the perfectly seductive piece you were dressed up as. 

But, Jesus fucking Christ. Spencer reads some boring books.

Not boring, maybe, but ones that have words just in the damn title that you don’t even understand. You strained your mind through four of the pages, which took at least another twenty minutes anyways, and decided that was more than enough. 

You checked your phone again, hoping for a miracle. And it came to you in the form of a text from Spencer.

Just landed! 

Got news that all the roads are blocked off. Trains are closed, Morgan’s gonna drive me home, but it could still take at least an hour :(

There wasn’t even a moment to be excited about the first part before you swiped out of the messages app and angrily pulled up that listicle again. All the other suggestions were rubbish; you weren’t going to go exercise in a snowstorm, there wasn’t any fucking sunlight at past midnight, and you’d already drank tons of water. 

There was one item on the list you hadn’t tried yet.

2. Take a Nap to Take the Edge Off Sleepiness

That was tempting. Spencer did say it would be another hour, and as he’s informed you many times before, a twenty-minute nap was all it took to get the optimal nap in. 

You caved. But you made sure to set your phone alarm for twenty minutes out, and yet another after that just in case. Fluffing Spencer’s sofa cushions up, you tucked one under your head and laid down.

-

You woke up just moments before Spencer came home. He walked in to find you waiting for him, clad in the hottest red lingerie he’d ever laid eyes on. After weeks of being apart, he didn’t have the time for words. He dropped his bags at the door and wordlessly stormed over, bringing his hands to either side of your face and gripping you tightly as he covered your mouth with his own. 

Your mouths worked furiously together, and his hands dropped low on your hips before throwing all caution to the wind and palming your ass. With both hands just below your ass, he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walked you to the wall and pinned you against it. Your pussy was leveled perfectly against his hard dick. He grinded himself against you, moaning at the sweet friction. His head was buried in your neck, sucking so deliciously. 

“Spencer,” you moaned his name, low and rolling, as he shifted your panties aside. “Mmm, feels so good baby.” 

He carefully set you down and dropped to his knees, putting his face between your legs instead. His tongue pressed along the length of your seam. You let your eyes close as you dropped your head back onto the wall.

“Fuck, Spencer!” you couldn’t stop moaning it. Every other breath became the sound of his name. 

And then, you felt a kiss on your forehead. And a palm on your shoulder. Your eyes flickered open, fully and for real this time.

Next thing you knew, Spencer was kneeling on the floor. Not between your legs, but by your side while you were laid out on the couch, gently shaking you awake.

“Hi,” he smiled as you finally blinked your eyes awake. “Havin’ a good dream, I hope?”

You grumbled, disappointed both that it wasn’t real, and that you’d fallen asleep. “No, no, it wasn’t supposed to be like this!” you pouted, sitting up. “I was supposed to wake up and, and –”

“Be ready for me?” He quirked a brow as he surveyed the room. 

There were dozens of blown-out candles under the open windows, carrying a cool evening breeze. An untouched plate of chocolate strawberries, and a less-untouched bottle of champagne. You, clad in something silky and red, that made you look like a present waiting to be unwrapped. And also, his chunky knit sweater. 

“I tried, I promise. I did everything, I even read that book of yours,” you gestured to it on the coffee table, barely cracked open.

“Well, it’s no wonder you fell asleep then,” he laughed. 

“I’m so sorry, Spence.” 

He only shook his head and pushed your shoulders back down until you were lying on the couch again. 

“Don’t apologize.” He pulled your knees closer to him, hooking the leg closest to him over his far shoulder and nestling himself inside. “To find my girlfriend waiting for me, in my home,” he stopped to kiss the inside of your knee, “in my sweater,” and then the other one, “and in this, too?” 

Spencer pushed up the hem of the sweater, exposing the fancy lingerie you had under. His large hands rested on your sides as he dove in to kiss your belly, right above the mesh garter belt you wore. From there, he kissed a line all the way down, stopping before reaching your panties.

“Well, that’s all I could’ve asked for.” He gave you a smirk before hooking one finger into your panties and pulling them to the side. He dragged his tongue over you. “So, why don’t you tell me what that dream was about?” 

[kiridarling]

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒.

katsuki bakugou | birthday gone wrong (aha), f!reader, baker!reader, pro hero!katsuki, blizzards, angst and smut, exhibitionism, cockwarming, begging, confessions. minors dni!

— 4.7k words

Wanna blow off some steam?

“Surprise!”

Katsuki jumps ten feet high, and the plastic grocery bags precariously balanced on each finger tear without a second thought. Apples hit the ground with a thud and the egg carton with a depressing slap; one that signifies the crack of at least half a dozen. Katsuki looks at the crowd, red-faced and livid, and Eijirou Kirishima intercepts the awkward silence with:

“Happy Birthday Bakubro! I know y—“

“Said that I didn’t want a fuckin’ party?” Katsuki growls, groceries forgotten on the forgotten. Eijirou looks guilty and chuckles, scratching the back of his head.

“W-Well, yeah, but—“

“Everybody out.”

People sigh, and you think you hear Denki whisper told you he’d kick us out. You hate to say that you foresaw a similar outcome. Katsuki’s never been one for people.

Especially you.

“Awe come on, Kacchan,” Izuku says with hands on his hips. “We came all this way! Just let us stay for a little bit.”

“Yeah!” Eijirou seems to cheer up once given a sliver of hope. “Plus, we got cake and stuff. And Just Dance.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes, but you know better—he’s always had a soft spot for the redhead. You all wait with baited breath, wondering if this entire evening was a bust, as Katsuki weighs his options in a pool of fallen groceries.

“One hour.”

Eijirou gasps so hard he chokes, and Katsuki’s generosity earns him applause from the audience. (Plus whoops and hollers from Denki and Mina.)

“And I mean it—y’all have sixty fuckin’ minutes before you’re gone without a goddamn trace. Kapeesh?”

“Kapeesh!”

Katsuki sighs, rubbing at his temples as he steps over the mess at the front door. You assume he’ll make Eijirou clean it up. “Whatever. Where’s the fuckin’ cake?”

Ah.

“In the kitchen, my good sir!” Denki says as he ushers the ash-blond into the said kitchen, the rest of the party hot on their heels. Eijirou grabs the cake from the fridge and you’re tense until the plate hits the marble of their island.

“Flavor?” Katsuki asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, I dunno, [Y/N] made it,” Eijirou throws you under the bus, just like that, and you want to scoff at the way Katsuki freezes—if only for a moment. Eijirou’s oblivious as ever, “[Y/N]?”

“It’s red velvet,” you say, trying not to burn under Katsuki’s carmine eyes. You don’t know why he doesn’t look away.

“Frosting?”

“Buttercream.”

As if you’d give him anything else.

Eijirou tries his best to cram 26 candles into the cake before being forced to opt for 23 lest he ruin your decorations. Denki presses him to make a wish and Katsuki rolls his eyes as he blows out the candles. Eijirou wipes an invisible tear because ‘his boy is getting so old.’ Mina and Jiro cut the cake and people seem to enjoy it, and you think that maybe, reuniting with your high school friends after so long isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be.

Even if he said he never wanted to see you again.

“—due to the incoming blizzard, we highly suggest all those who reside in the red and orange zones stay inside until it passes; which should be around ten am tomorrow morning.”

You spoke too soon.

Katsuki turns to the crowd, and you know what he’s going to say before his lip curls.

“Out.”

“Kacchan, don’t be unreasonable!” Izuku says from his comfortable position on the couch. “We’d get caught in the storm if we leave now.”

“Not if you’re fuckin’ fast enough,” Katsuki growls, pulling the greenette’s to his feet by his hair. “Get out, I’m not bunking with you fuckers overnight.”

“Dude,” Denki points to the window, and if you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought the blizzard had already started. “If we leave now, we’ll literally die.”

“Die, then.”

Eijirou sighs, clapping his roommate on the back. “C’mon, man. You know we ca—“

There’s a whirr then a click, and the lights and tv die at once. You can’t see a thing but you definitely hear Katsuki shout:

“Motherfucker!”

Eijirou turns his phone flashlight on first; Katsuki’s busy angrily flicking at the light to no avail. You sigh, turning to the ash-blond (and ignoring those ugly fucking butterflies in your stomach.)

“It’s a blackout Katsuki. The lights aren’t going to work.”

“Don’t you think I fuckin’ know that, dumbass?” And your chest tightens because even though he’s not eighteen anymore, he sounds the same—but you aren’t sure why you expected him to sound so different either.

You lift an eyebrow (not that he can see it), “It doesn’t look like you do.”

Denki snorts at that, hollering about how you just owned the ash-blond as Katsuki yells at him to shut the fuck up. It’s...familiar and comfortable, like you’re all in high school again, before you had to worry about your friends dying in their line of work because you couldn’t be there with them.

Before you got injured.

“Well I mean, we have a few blankets,” Eijirou offers, and as your eyes slowly adjust to the dark, you’re convinced you see his figure cross the living room. “And like, sweatshirts if it gets too cold.”

“It’s already getting too cold,” Mina says, and you can’t help but agree. The quickly cooling room has the goosebumps raising on your shoulders, and you’re starting to regret forgetting your jacket at home.

“Okay! I don’t have that many, but,” Eijirou hollers from somewhere, before returning with a handful of cloth. He drops it onto the coffee table. “Plus Hanta and Denks left their hoodies here last time.”

“Oh shit, we did?” Hanta says, and you assume it’s his figure who starts digging through the clothes. “Totally thought I lost this, lol.”

“Did you just saw lol out loud?”

“I did.”

“Ooh Ei, do you still have that old Red Riot hoodie?” Mina asks, and all of a sudden, she’s all over the pile. She finds it before the redhead can answer and snatches it away with a gasp.

You watch the pile dissolve in the darkness, one by one, and by the time you reach for something, your palm hits the cool wood of the coffee table. Fuck.

“Oh [Y/N]! Do you need some of my blanket?” Mina offers, but the blanket is small, and wrapping it around both of your shoulders just renders it utterly useless. You shake your head after she tries for a while.

“It’s fine Mina, I’m not that cold,” you laugh, but she shakes her head vehemently.

“No! Girl c’mon, you look like you’re freezing!”

And, well. Freezing is a stretch. Sure, you’re a little cold, but you’ll live.

“Do you need my sweatshirt?” Eijirou asks, already pulling at the hem. You roll your eyes.

“I’m serious guys, it’s not that bad,” you say, waving your arms for emphasis. They all grumble but they give up, and you feel like you can finally relax.

Something soft and army green drops into your lap. You pick it up in confusion, before looking up to see who dropped it.

Katsuki looks down at you, face glowing white from the phone flashlights. His eyes pierce your soul nevertheless.

“I don’t ne—“

“Take it.”

Katsuki takes a seat next to you on the couch in his own hoodie. You don’t realize until you put it on that he gave you a sweatshirt themed after his own hero costume.

You can’t sleep.

You can’t sleep, and you’re sure it’s due to the temperature. The wind howls and it sounds like you’re in the eye of a tornado, loose branches knocking against the rattling glass, and upon looking through the window, you see nothing but stark white. You sigh, checking the time on your phone for the fiftieth time this hour. Yep. Still four am.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’, dumbass.”

You all decided to bunk in the living room for warmth. You’re surprised Katsuki stayed, though; you figured he would just head to his room and let you all fend for yourselves while he slept in a comfortable bed. But here he is, sleeping next to you on the cold fucking floor.

“Sorry,” you say, but it’s hard when your shivering and your jaw aches from stunting your chattering teeth. Katsuki and Eijirou only had a limited amount of sleeping bags, meaning you’ve got to share a blanket with the hulking ash-blond.

“You cold?” He grunts. You don’t know why he’s asking.

“No.”

Katsuki sighs, and you hear him adjust, the blanket sliding from your neck to your shoulder. “You’re a shit liar.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows to glare his way, and you look to notice Katsuki’s laying the same way.

“What’s your point?”

Katsuki doesn’t answer for a moment, but it doesn’t seem like he’s looking for an answer, either—his neon red eyes glow through the dark and straight into your soul, and the next time you shiver, it isn’t because of the temperature.

“You’re stubborn.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “Thought you figured that out senior year.”

Katsuki’s face flashes with an emotion you can’t quite pinpoint before it’s gone again. “Yeah. You’d think almost dying would fuckin’ fix that.”

You sigh. Looks like you’re having this conversation now, then.

“I didn’t almost die—“

“Yes, you fuckin’ did,” Katsuki snarls, and Denki almost stirs at his raised tone. “You took that bullet and you didn’t get up for months—“

“And then I woke up and everything was fine! Seriously Katsuki, what’s your problem? I lived.”

“My problem is that you shouldn’t have been there in the goddamn first place!” Katsuki says through grit teeth. You watch his temple roll underneath his hairline. “That was my fuckin’ fight. I don’t need some chick jumping in front of a bullet for me just ‘cause she thinks I can’t take it!”

You scoff, looking around to see if any of your other sleeping friends are listening because get a load of this guy. Naturally, they don’t respond.

“That’s what this is about? Oh, well I’m sorry I bruised your dignity because I didn’t want to see you get fucking shot!”

Katsuki chest inflates with disbelief before it deflates again, and he’s rolling his eyes before he says, “That’s not—you fuckin’ know that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh really?” You laugh, and goddammit Katsuki, you just had to bring it up, didn’t you? “Because waking up after two months to your best friend telling you to give up doesn’t preserve your dignity at all, huh?”

“I didn’t tell you to fu—“

“You said those exact words, Katsuki. You said give up, and you left the hospital.”

The ash-blond has nothing to say to that, because he knows that you know you’re right, and trying to jedi mind trick you into believing he isn’t an asshole won’t work.

“Well you fuckin’ listened,” he grumbles, more to himself than you, but enough emotion flares in your core to make you want to scream.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you say, huffing, before turning your back to him, deeming this conversation over. “Good night, Katsuki.”

There’s a lull and it has you convinced you’ve won, finally relaxing (as much as you can) onto the cold floor. At least arguing heated your blood up a bit.

“The fuck do you mean?”

You roll your eyes even though they’re closed before you hop back onto your forearms to give the ash-blond a nasty look. “What?”

“You...said you didn’t have a choice,” Katsuki says, and it’s the first time you think you’ve heard him sound weary. Unsure. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It means I had to give up on being a hero either way.”

Which sucked. Because you had spent the past four years of your life working your ass off to save others, and you wind up out of commission before you even got started. You...suppose you didn’t tell Katsuki the whole story. Well, you hadn’t had a chance to—today’s the first time speaking with him since you woke up in the hospital.

Katsuki eyes you out of his peripheral, but only for a second. “And that means...?”

“It means that if I land on my spine the wrong way, there’s a high chance I’ll be paralyzed from the waist down.” You growl, frustrated that it was easier to coax the truth out of you than you thought.

The bullet buried close to your spinal column. You had to do PT for months, relearning how to walk as you slowly regain your motor functions. That’s when you started to bake.

“Oh.”

The howling of the wind turns from somewhat soothing to aggravating as Katsuki’s unimpressive “oh” hangs heavy in the air, and you find yourself sighing, the puzzle pieces finally clicking in your head. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Katsuki asks—he’s still not looking at you.

“Blaming yourself,” you gesture to his figure, which is lax with depression, lacking its sturdiness and usual fire. “You didn’t shoot the gun.”

Katsuki snorts at that, running a hand through his hair, “I might as well.”

“Stop.”

“You got shot because of me,” Katsuki says as if it were a fact. “They were trying to kill me. Not you.”

“And they didn’t kill me. I’m here and you’re here. If I hadn’t been there, you’d be six feet under right now,” you reason. Katsuki shrugs because he’s just as stubborn as you are, and you figure he’s been carrying around this baggage for too many years.

“Does your back hurt often?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I mean sure, I get flare-ups sometimes, but it’s not too bad. Doesn’t really get in the way of baking as long as the table is high enough.”

Katsuki thinks for a moment, teeth worrying his bottom lip. “Is the table high enough? At your café.”

You shrug, failing to see where he’s going with this. “I have a platform thingy, so. It’s mostly for decorating cakes and things—“

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“What?”

“I’ll buy you a new table,” Katsuki says, nodding to himself as if he was confirming the idea. “A higher one.”

It takes a second for his offer to process, but once it does, you’re fighting a smile. Still the same kid. “Kats, I don’t nee—“

“An—And if you need a new chair. I’ll pay for that shit too.”

You shake your head—mainly in disbelief, “I don’t need a chair, Katsuki.”

“Then what?” He asks, and it almost sounds desperate with the speed he rushed the sentence, “Y’need a car? That hunk of junk you drive could use some work.”

You ignore the jab, because your car works perfectly fine thank you very much, and snort at the suggestion of such an outrageous purchase.

“What? You tryna be my sugar daddy or something?” You joke. Katsuki gives you a look, and it's dead serious.

“D’ya need one?”

“I—no!” You laugh, and have to remind yourself to reel it in before you actually wake Denki up. “I’m fine financially I just—what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothin’.” Katsuki quickly grumbles, facing forwards again. “I just...”

You raise an eyebrow, “You just..?”

“I dunno. I dunno,” Katsuki shakes his head. You let him gather his thoughts in silence before he tries again. He doesn’t.

“Then fuck me.”

In your defense, your mouth moved before you thought it through.

Katsuki has an unreadable look on his face, but his voice is anything but steady when he says, “What?”

Fuck. Fuck.

“U-Uh, I mean,” you recoil. Stupid big mouth. “I—you—don’t worry about it.”

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” Katsuki deadpans. You choke.

“I—no, that’s not—“

“That’s exactly what you said.”

“No, I meant as in I’m pent up. Obviously,” you defend with a huff, crossing your arms on the pillow as you glare daggers his way. Katsuki matches your stare.

“Not as pent up as a Pro Hero,” he scoffs, lifting an eyebrow. You take it as a challenge.

You click your tongue in faux pity, “Awe, the number two hero Dynamight doesn’t get laid?”

“No fuckin’ time,” he grunts, though you don’t find much remorse in his voice.

“Well, you have time now,” you say, completely unsure of where this confidence is coming from. Either way, you’ll take it and run.

“I do,” Katsuki confirms, leaning in closer. He’s close enough that you can smell what’s leftover of his cologne, and see the hint of a grin that makes his upper cheek shine silver in the moonlight. You find yourself leaning in just as much as he does.

“Wanna blow off some steam?” You dare to question. Katsuki’s grin only grows wider.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Katsuki’s kisses are surprisingly soft, you think, and so are his lips. But you don’t have much time to think about it as he pulls you in by the waist, quietly groaning into your mouth while he lays you down on your back.

“Always thought you were the prettiest fuckin’ thing,” he growls, trailing butterfly kisses down your neck. “‘M gonna make it up to you, yeah? Make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

A hand hikes his sweatshirt above your chest before Katsuki’s latching onto the skin under your collarbone and sucking, teeth digging into your skin hard enough to bruise.

“Y-Yeah, that’s fine,” you whimper, intoxicated by the way Katsuki’s lips flush pink as he pulls away, eyes locked on the fresh hickey on your chest. They flicker up to you; he grins.

“Good?”

“Mhm.”

Katsuki hums at that, licking his lips before diving back in. You hiss when he bites too hard, prompting him to bite harder, but he always soothes it over with his tongue, topping each bruise with a kiss. You flinch when his lips wrap around your nipple and he chuckles at your meek whimper; a hand removes its grip on the sweatshirt in favor of sliding it up your thigh.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Katsuki says once he pulls away, enjoying the sight of you writhing in anticipation. “And it’s all for me, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, ‘m all yours just—“ you kick a leg in frustration at the thumb playing with the hem of your panties, “—do something already.”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow, “Do what?”

You frown, huffing, “You know what.”

Katsuki shrugs, adjusting so he’s caging you to the floor. Ghosting a thumb over your panties, he says, “‘Course I do. You gotta ask nicely first.”

You tighten your hands into fists. He would.

“I’m no—“

“Beg, Princess,” Katsuki growls, his stare unwavering. He presses an inquisitive finger to your clit through your panties either as a promise or a threat—which, you’re not quite sure.

You crumble.

“I—fine, just—finger me.”

Katsuki doesn’t move. Asshole.

“Please.”

The ash-blond grins, finally pushing your panties to the side.

“Good girl.”

When Katsuki slides his first finger in, it’s much too easy, and you blame it on the foreplay. You shudder, hands moving to brace themselves on his big shoulders, and the ash-blond muffles a moan as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Another,” you moan, bucking your hips into his palm. Katsuki’s heated gaze flickers from your body to your face.

“Already?” He chuckles, the rasp in his throat giving his arousal away. You nod—he clicks his tongue.

“Fuckin’ dirty.”

Two fingers feel like so much more than just one, and they have your eyebrows folding in a poor attempt to muffle a whimper. Katsuki’s fingers still move tentatively but they’re getting comfortable, curling and searching for that place that’ll make you tremble. And then he finds it.

“F-Fuck,” your body jolts, and Katsuki’s shushing you against the pillows.

“Keep your mouth shut, Princess,” he purrs, head dipping down to nip at your neck. It adjusts the angle ever so slightly, but enough to make you hiss, and he chuckles. “Unless you wanna get caught.”

“Oh yeah, because that sounds fun right now,” you snort towards the ceiling. Katsuki pulls away with an unimpressed look as his thumb comes down over your clit.

“Can’t wait to fuck the brat outta ya. Maybe then you’ll actually shut up for once, huh?” Katsuki inserts a third finger without you asking him to, and you gasp, clawing at his back.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he laughs against your mouth lowly, as if the light kisses will do anything but make more noise, “Good God sweetheart, you’re really pent up, aren’t ya?”

“Shit—I doubt you’re much better,” you try, scoffing at what you can see of his painfully hard cock in his sweatpants. Katsuki looks down before sending a huff your way, with a cute little blush dusted on his cheeks.

“Shut the fuck up,” he grunts, pulling out his fingers. You whine at the loss. “How d’ya want me to fuck you?”

You need to take a step back from how crude the question is. Right, sex.

“Right um,” you look around, trying to find the least obvious position—and one that doesn’t make a shit ton of noise. Laying on your side, you tuck an arm under the pillow, before turning around to Katsuki to suggest, “Cuddle-fucking?”

“Cuddle-fucking.”

“Yep,” you say with finality, popping the p. Making big grabby hands his way, you say, “C’mere, big guy.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes but moves behind you anyways, warm arms easily finding themselves around your waist under the blanket. After a few adjustments and ensuring you're both fully covered, Katsuki’s hard cock presses against your entrance as he hooks his head over your chin with a huff.

“This is so not on fuckin’ brand.”

“I don’t think fucking in a living room with sleeping friends is on-brand for a pro hero or a baker,” you say casually. Katsuki breaks out into a snort, pressing his face deeper into your neck.

“God, I fuckin’ missed you, ya know that?” He chortles. Your chest blooms with something it hasn’t in years, and for the first time, you find that you don’t mind.

“Don’t be such a dick and maybe I’ll stick around this time,” you quip with a smile he can’t see. Though you feel his against the base of your neck.

“Noted.”

Katsuki’s last words hang in the air, unusually heavy, and your eyes catch the snow beating against the window with a less than angry howl. Katsuki’s chest shudders against your back but he doesn’t move, hands frozen at your waist.

“Hey, I thought you were gon—“

“I’m getting to it,” Katsuki snaps, and you gasp as he starts to push inside. “So fuckin’ impatient, goddamn.”

He pulls you down until he fills you completely, and you suppress the urge to shout at the speed he did it with. Katsuki moves a hand to slap over your mouth.

“Shut the fuck up.”

You reach around to pinch him in the side with a huff, he calls you a bitch. It’s a little hard to hear you behind his hand as you say, “Then don’t catch me off guard like that, asshole.”

Katsuki snaps his hips and does exactly what you tell him not to do—prompting another surprised whine out of you and a dark chuckle from the ash-blond. His cheek presses into your jaw as he finds leverage in hiking your lower half up until your puffy cunt is level with his cock, and fucking you until you drool all over the pillow.

“What a pretty fuckin’ thing,” Katsuki grunts, and you can tell he struggles to keep quiet in the way his chest sporadically shudders. You have to grip the pillow for some semblance of purchase and Katsuki chuckles at watching you struggle, before he’s hiking your leg up to fuck you that much deeper.

“I always—always knew you’d sound so good,” he pants, the grip around your mouth bordering on clammy. You want to tell him that if he keeps making so much noise he’ll wake up everyone in this fucking room, but there isn’t much time between moans to get more than a word in. “Fuck baby, keep tightening around me like that, and I might fuckin’ cum.”

You find it amusing how close he is so quickly, until two fingers land on your clit and start rubbing in slow, small circles. Your walls flutter around him and Katsuki digs his teeth into your neck with a curse, his grip around your raised thigh contracting as he tries to hold on for as long as he can.

And that’s when Denki starts to move.

First, he rolls to the left. Which would’ve been fine, seeing as it’s in the opposite direction until he bops Eijirou straight on the nose and promptly rouses the redhead from his slumber. Katsuki’s hips still.

“O-Ow, dick,” Eijirou curses under his breath, quickly scrambling to his forearms. It’s hard to tell through the darkness, mostly because you’re squinting your eyes to feign sleep, but it seems like Eijirou rubs under his nose, only to blink back at a bloody hand.

“...Shit.”

Katsuki’s hips shift, ever so slightly, but enough to nestle his cock deeper and force you to bite back a whine. And another. And then another.

You try your hardest to be discreet when you reach to pinch Katsuki in the side, and he breathes a laugh down your neck.

“What?” He whispers, though it's more than a rasp than anything else. Good to know you’re not the only one struggling to not cum, here.

“You know 'what,'” you quickly hiss. But Katsuki’s hips don’t stop as Eijirou weighs his options to cure his bloody nose in the dark. The fingers on your clit return their usual pressure and you inhale sharply, nails digging into Katsuki’s forearm as your orgasm begins creeping up on you.

Eijirou sniffles and gets up, stumbling through the darkness to turn down the hall that leads to the bedrooms. Katsuki sees that as fucking freedom and his hips really start to pick up so much speed that you struggle to breathe through it all.

“‘M gonna cum,” Katsuki whimpers into your neck, burying his face deeper in a poor attempt to stunt any sound. “Fuck, fuck ‘m gonna cum, you close baby?”

“Y-Yeah jus’ a little more,” you whimper, eyes rolling as Katsuki finds some inhumane energy in him to fuck faster. He nods at that and bites into your shoulder with a growl, “C’mon, fuckin’ cream all over my cock—atta girl, fuck, fuck—“

Katsuki fills you up the moment you clench around his cock with a sigh, the weight of your orgasm knocking you forehead-first into your pillow as you bite the urge to squeal. Katsuki doesn't growl as much as you expect, moans breathy and light as his hips finally stutter to a stop—but you suppose some things have to change over the years.

Katsuki collapses next to you in pure exhaustion and you’re sure that’s his cum leaking down your thigh, but for some reason, you don’t really mind.

“Hey you,” he speaks first, eyes blazing red in the darkness. You snort.

“Hey, you.”

Katsuki chuckles with a stupidly giddy smile on his face, "Y'know, you still fuck really well."

You drop your head on his chest to snort, and his hands find their rightful place around your waist.

"Better than high school?"

"Yeah..." Katsuki grumbles, before his eyes narrow. "Wait—hey, yo—"

"I haven't fucked anyone since," you snuff the fire before it even starts, and Katsuki relaxes, though his eyes stay slim. He pulls you closer and you sigh—it's comfortable.

"Good," he grunts. And then after a pregnant silence: "I haven't either."

That's...strangely reassuring.

Your arms wriggle until they fold over his shoulders to play with the small hairs on the back of his neck, and he hums, eyes fluttering shut with a final peck on the lips. As Katsuki's breathing evens and the white of the snow dyes the highest points of his face white, you smile. He looks older.

You think he's asleep until he nudges your waist.

"Be my girlfriend."

You don't even hesitate.

"Okay."

By the time Eijirou comes stumbling down the hall, both you and Katsuki are passed out—with his body encompassing yours in the most intimate way, face tucked into your hickey-ridden neck as your arms and legs lock around his being. The redhead gives you both a soft smile as he passes, snorting to himself.

“Took them long enough.”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY THOTSUKI

[adarlingwrites]

Leave it to the Wind

Summary: Between deadlines, an awful transport system, and aswangs lurking about in the shadows, you have much to worry about as a college student in Manila, and it's so much that your social life is practically dead. Your wind people roommates want to help you remedy that.

Words: 9343

Relationships: The Kambal/Reader (Crispin/Reader/Basilio)

Warnings: Adult content, alcohol, brief scene of sexual harassment

Author’s Notes: God, the fandom is so thirsty for the Kambal, and so am I. Finally, some Filipino himbo representation.

The premise is: Hannah and Amie decides to play matchmaker. Hilarity ensues. Smut ensues. Please be nice, I based the characterizations of the character on the Netflix series and Trese wiki pages since I couldn't get my hands on the original comics yet oof. Some words, like terms of endearment and curse words, will remain in Filipino. Translations are provided. Reader is AFAB and is referred to with female pronouns.

Reposting this from AO3 with all three chapters in one post. A Filipino (Taglish) translation is in the works!

I

You don’t know how they managed to convince you, to be honest.

You rarely ever go out at night anymore. So many strange incidents transpire in Manila’s narrow streets. Just recently, you’ve heard of a new story about a tikbalang who allegedly participated in illegal street races.

So when your roommates and friends Amie and Hannah invited you for a night out, you hesitated. You gave them every excuse you can think of; you needed to do laundry, you needed to study, you needed to finish a project, and so on.

You know that the two of them are wind people, but you can’t help but think. Which of the various stories you had been hearing are real? What else in this world you haven’t witnessed yet?

“Aw, you’re such a buzzkill! Pretty please? You don’t go out with us as often. Enjoy yourself a little,” Amie whines, lying on the sofa of your living room.

On the other hand, Hannah turns to you with a mischievous grin on her face. “C’mon, get dressed already,” she commanded. “There are some total hotties we’d like you to meet! One of them might catch your eye!”

“I told you, I don’t need a relationship. You two try this every week. How do you even know so many people?” you retort, laughing softly at yourself.

“Well, our night lives are active,” Hannah retorted. “Don’t forget our sex lives!” the other added. Hearing those words, you felt your face get flushed with heat.

You needed a good fuck.

“Damn it, fine! As long as you pay for me.”

They finally got you to say yes.

As the night went on, you went to several bars, and you swore that you had explored every crevice of the city. It doesn’t help that the guy Amie and Hannah were with, a tall, dark and handsome man with flowing locks of black hair, drove like a demon. You got around quickly in no time.

Around an hour after midnight, you’re all exhausted from a night of dancing and mingling. None of the people your friends introduced to you caught your attention. At that point, you just wanted a stiff drink to unwind.

Voicing it to your drinking buddies, they nod in agreement.

���I know just the place, in Malate,” the man you’re with said. “Quiet. Discreet. I can take you there, if you want.”

“You mean The Diabolical, right? Let’s go! Text Crispin and Basilio, they might be hangin’ there too,” Amie croons.

A chuckle escapes your lips upon hearing their names. “Huh? Were they named after the characters in Jose Rizal’s novel?”

“I think so? Whatever! But seriously though… Those two can totally make you scream their names louder than Sisa ever did! Best lay I ever had!”

The remark made you laugh so hard, you swore you can be heard in the next city. “What the fuck! Amie, gaga ka, Sisa was their mom! The context of that scene was rough.”

Hannah’s mischievous grin spreads on her face once more, and she gently elbows your side. “Well, if you’re lucky, in this context you’d be crying their names while your eyes roll to the back of your head.”

You’ll never admit it, but you had hoped all their teasing would come true.

It didn’t take long for the four of you to reach your destination. As you enter The Diabolical, a strange chill envelopes you. The air feels different inside; it’s almost as if you stepped in a different world. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, but when you looked around, you saw a duwende sitting by the bar. Or was it called a nuno? At the end of the bar, you saw them; two men both dressed in black suits. One has short hair, while the other one has longer, reaching past his shoulders. However, they’re facing away from you. Only the back of their head and part of their cheeks were visible where you stood.

You snapped out of it when the man you three are with spoke up. “I’m gonna call it a night. Have fun, you three.”

“For real? Wow Maliksi, this is the first time I ever saw you wanting to leave early. Aren’t you gonna stop by and say hi to Alex?” Hannah asks him.

“Maybe next time,” Maliksi answers back, a somber expression on his face. “Oh em gee, did you two fight? Wait, what are you two?” Amie asks.

“Whatever. It’s complicated. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Your friends nodded and let Maliksi be. He waves at your group, and heads out the door. The engine of his car roars to life, and his car screeches away.

As the car moved farther away though, it seems that the screeching of the tires turned into hoofbeats.

Perhaps it’s just your imagination.

“Amie! Hannah! Have a drink! Hey, who’s that with you? Is that the person you’ve been wanting us to meet for ages now?”

Your head turns to where the voice was coming from; one of the men in the suits, the one with short hair in particular. You finally had a good look on their faces.

Twins?

“Crispin! Meet our friend! This is…”

As Amie and Hannah introduce you to the Twins, you can’t help but stare. You took the sight of their features in; they’re tall, with broad shoulders, and hard muscle underneath that black suit and white tie ensemble. They have wide noses with a high bridge, prominent bone structure, and a prominent widow’s peak.

Merciful Bathala, they’re gorgeous.

What caught your attention the most are their eyes. They're pitch black, save for the small reflection of light.

Are these people even human?

“Stare at them like that any longer and they might melt,” Amie teases. The two of your friends are giving you an ear-splitting grin due to your reaction to the Twins.

“I, uh-” you stuttered, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t be shy. You can sit between us, miss. We’re all friends here,” the twin with the longer hair says. If the other one is Crispin, then this must be Basilio.

Behind you, your friends are already giggling. They took their places next to the twins and leaned on their biceps. Across from you, the bartender comes to take your order.

“What’ll it be, kid?” he asks.

For some reason, you’re panicking. Maybe it’s because of the alcohol in your system. Or maybe it’s because you’re sandwiched between the twins. “Uh, what would you recommend, manong?”

Laughter erupted from the twins. “Hank, she called you manong!” Basilio teases while grinning like a fucking dog. “Geez, are you really that old?” Crispin eggs him on, giving him a shit-eating grin. Hank takes a wet rag he uses to wipe down the countertop and strikes the two down. “You goddamn assholes!”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing with them.

“Ow! Alright, we’re sorry, we’re sorry. Get them the best seller, Hank. We’ll pay for their tab,” Basilio says, and Hannah and Amie squeals with joy.

“Oh em gee, you boys are so sweet! Thank youuu!”

As Hank prepares you a drink, you try conversing with the twins. “You two seem fun to have as drinking buddies.”

Hank turns around to reach a bottle from the shelf. “Those two are mischievous little shits, that’s for sure. You know, when these two were kids...”

“Hey man, don’t embarrass us like that in front of our new friend,” Crispin whines.

While the three continues fucking around, you leaned back slightly to glimpse at Amie, who was trying to get your attention for a while now. She points to her phone, and you fetch yours from your bag.

You read your group chat with them. “Soooo, do you like, like them?” Hannah’s message said.

“You’re into them aren’t you? You got so shy around them, it’s so cute!” Amie’s message said.

“Right? It’s rare to see you so flustered!”

You typed away furiously at your phone, cautious to not let the twins beside you see the conversation.

“Well, they’re an improvement from the ones you introduced me to earlier. Easier on the eyes, too…”

Your friends giggled, and as their drinks arrived, they stood up. “Girl, we’re gonna leave you with them, there’s some super hot tikbalangs who just came in the bar. Byeeee!”

“Hey, wait!”

They didn’t heed your words and went to sit on the tikbalangs’ laps.

Fuck, tikbalangs are real? Is Maliksi a tikbalang too?

“And off they go, flirting with those beasts after they’ve used us for drinks,” Crispin laments, voice dripping with light-hearted sarcasm.

“It’s not like it’s the first time we got used by them though,” Basilio adds, cringing.

You can’t help but laugh.  “Yeah, I’ve heard.”

Basilio’s head whips towards you, sweat gathering on his brow. “Seriously?! Shit, what did they say about us?”

“All good things, don’t you worry,” you answered.

“Nah, I need to hear what they said word for word,” the twin with long hair responds. “This is making me paranoid!”

Crispin moves closer to you, Basilio puts a friendly arm around your shoulder, and you can only smile. All of you are inebriated and if you were sober, and if someone else dared to get this close to you, you might’ve slapped them. But you feel good about the Twins, and your roommates never put you in harm’s way, so your trust for them extended to the brothers, somehow.

“Just tell us already,” Crispin slurs. “Tell us what they said about us. We’re curious.”

“Fine, fine. Okay, Amie and Hannah mentioned your names when Maliksi suggested that we head here to drink. Then, I mentioned that your names came from Rizal’s novels.”

“Then Amie said,” you continued, pausing briefly to come up with an impression of your roommate’s speech. “‘Seriously though… Those two can totally make you scream their names louder than Sisa ever did! Best lay I ever had!’ Fuck, it was so messed up!”

“That’s messed up, alright,” Basilio sputters, his face a deep shade of crimson. “I’m this hot and those are the only details they can spare?!”

“Ok, but that Sisa joke was kind of funny though. But it was still fucked up,” Crispin adds, and he takes a sip of his drink.

“Hold your horses, the story’s not done yet,” you say. You’re starting to feel more confident around the two.

Your conversation went places, until you found yourselves drinking until three in the morning, and at that point, it’s only just the four of you in the bar; Hank, the Twins, and you. Even Hannah and Amie are nowhere to be seen. Knowing them, they probably took the tikbalangs they were flirting with back to your apartment.

They didn’t even wait for you. Looks like they’re really setting you up tonight. Maybe they wanted the apartment to themselves tonight, and they got exactly what they wanted.

You had planned on getting up to go to the restroom, but when you tried standing up, you almost fell from the chair. The Twins caught you before you landed face first against the floor.

“She’s had enough to drink,” Hank comments. They set you on a chair with a backrest. “How will she get home? We can’t send her off in a cab at this rate. The train doesn't run this late either.”

“Hannah left her behind too,” Crispin adds.

“Hey, how are we gonna deal with this?” Basilio asks. “We can get you home once we sober up a little. It’s fine if you-”

Basilio never got to finish what he was going to say, because you nodded off against his stomach, and puked your lunch out.

You don’t remember anything after that.

When you awaken, the sun is already high up, and the first thing that greets you is the fan in the ceiling. Your muscles are screaming at you, and your throat feels dry. Memories of last night came crashing back and you started sweating in horror. Maybe it’s just a drunken dream, but it felt all too real.

You were flirting with these gorgeous twins, had too much to drink, and at some point puked all over one of the twins’ shoes.

And now, you don’t know whose bedroom you are in. You check yourself, and you’re still wearing the same clothes, with nothing out of place. There are no bruises or marks on your body either. You looked around you, but there was no one else in the room.

The doors crack open slightly, and you see two pairs of void-black eyes.

“I… um… good morning?”

“It’s… already 2 in the afternoon,” one of them says. He has long hair. This one is the twin you threw up on.

“Why don’t you have some lunch?” the other one said.

You just nodded and said nothing else, ashamed of yourself. You threw up on one of them and now you’re eating at their table. You just wanted the ground to swallow you alive.

“Sorry for puking on you last night,” you near-whispered to Basilio after you swallowed your first bite of food.

The silence broke when Crispin roared with laughter, tears pooling at the corner of his eyes. Meanwhile, Basilio was glaring daggers at his brother. He’s frowning like a child whose toy got taken from him. “Sure, keep laughing, kuya.”

“I’ll never show my face here again, I promise,” you say to them, hiding your face behind your hands.

“What’re you talking about? Forget about it. We’re friends now, right?” Basilio tells you, smiling. “But next time, vomit on my brother too.”

“No one’s throwing up because I won’t be allowing any of you to get wasted that bad ever again,” Hank announces as he enters the room with a carafe in his hand. “Bossing’s not gonna like it if the bar ends up smelling as bad as Basilio’s room. Here, have some coffee.”

“We should introduce you to bossing next time too. She’s not here at the moment,” Crispin adds. “Let’s do this again next week.”

The invitation made you smile, and you poured yourself a cup of coffee. You continued eating the rest of your meal.

“...my room doesn’t smell that, right?” Basilio asks after a few moments of silence.

“Gago, it stinks so bad. It’s why we made the guest stay at my room, because if she stayed at yours she could’ve died from how bad it is,” Crispin exclaims. “Seriously, how can you live with bringing women to your room at that point?”

“Kuya, you’re embarrassing me to our guest!”

Translations for non-Filipino speaking folks:

bossing: a somewhat affectionate way to say “boss”. Comes from the old tradition of adding -eng or -ing to ones name to make a nickname, e.g. Luciana - Lucing

Gago/gaga (ka): (you) idiot/moron - someone stupid, foolish or ignorant

Tikbalang: creature from Filipino mythology similar to a centaur. They are hulking beasts with a horse's head.

manong: a term for endearment to an elderly male relative, or elderly men in general. Originally an Ilokano term referring to the first born son in a nuclear family.

kuya: big brother. Can be used to refer to one's own older brother, someone else's older brother, or an older peer or male acquaintance.

II

Author’s Notes: This chapter was heavily inspired by Bita and the Botflies' song Manghuhula.

Warnings: brief scene of sexual harrassment

After washing up, the Twins accompanied you to the gate, exchanging glances at each other behind your back. Little did they know, you definitely noticed it.

“Wait,” Basilio says, tapping your shoulder lightly with a large hand.

Crispin takes his phone out of his pocket. His younger brother proceeds to do the same. “Give us your phone. We’ll add our numbers, and you can text us if something happens,” he says.

“Or when you get home safe,” Basilio adds.

You look at the two of them back and forth. “This isn’t just an elaborate excuse for the two of you to get my number, right?”

Neither of the two spoke, giving each other a nervous glance.

Their reaction made you laugh out loud, and you took out your phone from your bag. “Here. I’ll give you my Facespace too.”

With the tension broken, the three of you exchange a chuckle. You punch in your number in their phones, while they did the same to yours. Crispin looks over his brother’s shoulder and frowns.

“Epal,” Crispin says to his brother, snatching your phone away from him. The older twin types something in, and it’s the younger one’s turn to stick his nose in. Basilio attempts to get the phone back, cursing all the time.

“You’re going to break her phone, gago,” the older twin curses, pushing a palm against Basilio’s face. “Then let it go! You’re the epal, I wasn’t done yet,” the younger one snaps back.

You give them a look of irritation, and check out what they’re arguing about.

“What the hell are you two grown-ass men fighting about?” you ask as you butt in to look at what they’re doing.

A loud snort bubbles from you as you see it; Basilio added “the hot twin” next to his contact name. Crispin added “the hotter twin”. Now, the former wanted to outdo his older brother.

Against your better judgment, you say, “You’re twins. You look like each other. You’re both hot. Now stop fighting over my phone.”

Perhaps it’s the afternoon heat, but there is a tinge of red in their cheeks after your remark. You waved them goodbye as you got in a tricycle that’ll get you to the nearest train station.

The MRT, in some strange miraculous twist of fate, isn’t as packed as usual. It’s still populated, but there were a few seats waiting to be taken. You sit down somewhere away from direct sunlight, and you take out your phone to tell Hannah and Amie that you’re on the way home.

The first thing you see is a text from Basilio. Then, a text from Crispin. You tell them both that you’re on the train now, completely forgetting about messaging your roommates. To pass the time, you launch the Facespace app and decide to look up their profiles, only to find out that they’ve already sent you a friend request.

Upon seeing Crispin’s profile, you did your damn best to stifle a laugh.

His work description says “works at the Krusty Krab,” but that wasn’t the craziest thing about his profile. At first, the Bible verse in his bio caught you off guard, thinking that someone like him didn’t seem religious, but when you quickly looked up “Ezekiel 23:20,” you did your best not to howl with laughter.

Basilio’s isn’t any better.

In his work description, he put “Model at For Her Magazine,” and “edi sa puso mo.” Then you scroll down to see a thirst trap of him pulling his shirt up with his teeth, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks again. Well, at least that work description is believable.

They’re- what was that term your younger university friends were using again?- himbos.

They’re definitely himbos.

Arriving at your place, you slot your key inside the doorknob and twist. As you enter the door, the heavy, musky scent of sex and sweat hits your face, and you regret getting too wasted last night and losing your chance to hook up with one of the Twins.

Or both.

Both?

Regardless, at least they’ve invited you again to hang out next week.

You raise your eyebrow and cross your arms at the scene before you. Cans of beer litter the living room, and your roommates are taking a nap by the couch. A tikbalang comes out of the bathroom, glamor off, and you snort as you watch him duck under the door frame because of his massive height.

“It’s already four in the afternoon. Time to go, big guy.”

He nods awkwardly in acknowledgment, morphing into his human disguise, and exiting your apartment.

You sit between your roommates, rousing them from their sleep. “I’m not going to clean this mess up,” you tell them, motioning to the trashed state of the living room, and reaching for the remote to turn the TV on. You just want to take a shower afterwards and sleep in your own bed tonight.

After rubbing the sleep from their eyes, your roommates near-tackles you on the couch, a curious, excited look on their faces. You forgot all about what you were watching and stared at them in surprise.

“So how did it go? Did you get to hook up with any of them?” Amie asks.

“Or both of them?” Hannah adds.

“Gaga, nothing like that happened.”

The two of them let you go with disappointed looks on their faces. “So sayang! Here we were thinking you finally have a sex life,” one of them says as you lean back on the backrest, closing your eyes as they continue to pester you for details.

“Why are you two so determined to get me to screw someone?” you finally snapped, amused and irked at the same time.

“Because you’ve been doing nothing but totally stressing yourself out! See how super fun it is to let go every now and then?”

“Thanks for the new drinking buddies, girls, but I have my fingers to keep me company. Hookups are too much work,” you lie to them, eyes still closed.

“That’s a toe-curling, full-body orgasm you’re missing out on, girl!”

“That’s assuming that the person I’m with knows what they’re doing,” you retorted.

One of them pokes your side with an elbow, and you assume it’s Hannah. “The Twins do.”

You opened your eyes, and you guessed right; it’s Hannah. You give her a look, before rolling your eyes, appearing to look disinterested. The smirk tugging at the edge of your lips says otherwise, though.

“So what happened last night?” Amie asks.

“I got wasted and threw up on Basilio’s shoes. Then, I ended up sleeping in Crispin’s room. When I woke up, they fed me and sent me home,” you tell them. Your roommates giggle at the story.

“Ah, speaking of which, I gotta let them know I got home,” you said off-hand, and somehow the remark only spurred your wind people roommates on.

“Yieee, you’re friends with them on Facespace already!” Amie quips, leaning in to see what you’re typing. Playfully, you move your phone away from her to conceal what you’re typing.

“Make a group chat with them!” Hannah exclaims, taking your phone away from you. You tried taking it back, but Amie joins in the mischief and blocks you from doing so.

When you got your phone back, the deed was done, and the chat was renamed to a single eggplant emoji. The like button was replaced by an eggplant emoji too.

Panicking, you add your roommates to the group to avoid looking suspicious, and swiftly type up a defense.

“Please ignore that, Hannah made this chat using my account.”

The teasing never stopped after that.

Weeks passed and you never bothered to change it, though.

It’s been about two months since your first encounter with the Twins. You’re becoming a familiar face at The Diabolical, going every Saturday to see them. Sometimes Hannah and Amie didn’t accompany you anymore. You’ve met the Twins’ bossing a few times, who turned out to be none other than Alexandra Trese. You’ve heard of her exploits and the two imposing bodyguards who were almost always with her. It surprised you that they’re none other than the Twins you knew, but it made perfect sense. Those two were jacked, and those muscles aren’t only for show.

Of course, because of your increasing presence in the bar, it didn’t take long for the rumors to circulate. Word on the street is both of the Twins had a thing for you, and neither is making a move out of consideration for the other. They are waiting for you to move.

You elected to ignore them, perfectly happy with your arrangement of having two handsome men to keep you company while you unwind. The thought of getting together with one of them, or even both of them did cross your mind a few times, however.

Ultimately, you wouldn’t know what to do if the day comes that you’ll have to confront how you feel and choose between the two.

Do you have to?

Crispin and Basilio are twins, but they’re distinct from each other. The older is more serious, with a dryer sense of humor, while the younger is goofier, and somewhat softer. One complements the other, and they’re both good company despite their differences.

Speak of the devil. Your phone buzzes and you see that the eggplant chat is active. The Twins are inviting you to The Diabolical again.

“See you guys at eight,” you type in. Someone reacts with an eggplant to your message. Then the next few messages were nothing but eggplant emojis, followed by Basilio sending “#TeamTalong”. Crispin cusses him out for it, but sends the same message right after.

Yeah, that became a thing among the five of you.

You and the wind girls got dressed and took a taxi to the bar, your favorite jacket draped over your shoulders. Pressured by your roommates, you wore something nicer tonight; a black faux leather dress that hugs your figure deliciously. The shiny fabric added to the effect. The six bottles of Pulang Tikbalang beer the three of you shared before going out might’ve contributed to your newfound bravado.

But now that you’re actually wearing it outside your apartment, you feel a little reluctant.

“Maybe wearing this is a bad idea,” you mutter to no one in particular, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear out of self-consciousness.

Amie taps you from behind. “Oh hush, that outfit is totally sexy,” she comments. “Finally ready to get dicked down tonight, girl?”

“Shhh, gaga ka, manong driver can hear you.”

That didn’t deter them from making more inappropriate comments, much to the manong's ire.

It’s nine already when you get there, you’re in the Philippines after all. The merriment is already in full swing when you step through the door. Hannah and Amie went ahead and sat next to their lay of the week. The Twins wave you over from their usual spot, but before you can reach them, a man you’ve never seen before tries to get your attention, snaking an arm around your waist.

“Hey baby. You’re a regular here, right? Want to drink with me?”

“Sorry, I’m here with someone else,” you tell him, moving away.

“Ah, here to see the Twins? Why don’t you ditch them for a change of pace and come with me, babe?”

“Not interested,” you flat out said. “Please move, or I’ll make you move.”

To your surprise, the man drops his glamor and reveals himself to be a kapre. He looms over you, cigar in his mouth, and you can feel the tension rising. People are starting to stare, and your friends took notice of it too.

“Try,” he huffs, puffing smoke to your face. You give him a sour glare while trying not to cough.

Before your roommates or the Twins could come to your aid, you panicked and saw an empty bottle of Pulang Tikbalang on a nearby table. Emboldened by the alcohol in your veins, you shatter the bottle and point the jagged edge at the hulking beast, hands shaking. You are a tiny thing compared to the enormous creature before you, after all.

“Don’t you dare look down on me.”

“Already doing that, honey.”

“I’m not your honey,” you say as you press the edge against his stomach, not enough to draw blood, but hard enough to hurt.

“I love it when they fight back,” the kapre croons.

Under the haze of alcohol, you were more than ready to shove the edge in, consequences be damned.

Before things could escalate, Crispin takes the broken bottle off of your hands and steers you away from the stranger, while Basilio steps in to defuse the tension. “Hey, why don’t you back off, pal? Our friend said no. You wouldn’t want us to tell our bossing to ban you from the place because of this misunderstanding now, don’t you?”

Heart in your throat, you turn to the Twins, then to the kapre. The tree giant pauses, looking at the three of you, then smirks.

“Heh. Fine. But if you torpe whelps don’t make a move, I will.”

The giant puts his glamor back on and skulks away.

“Wow, what a jerk! He only left you alone when the boys stepped in,” Hannah quips, tossing her hair in indignation.

“You almost didn’t need rescuing, but I’d hate to help Hank mop the blood off the floor later,” Basilio comments, nudging you gently with an elbow. His eyes go a little lower from your face, and you see him look away.

You realized Crispin hasn’t let go of you yet.

“C’mon, let’s just go,” you tell everyone. Crispin proceeds to remove his hand away from your shoulder, and you take your usual seats by the bar.

The bar is loud, but the silence between the three of you is deafening. Even Hank seems to have taken notice, eyeing your usually loud and cheerful group.

“What’s up with you three? What happened back there?” the older man asks, leaning over the bar top.

“Just a handsy kapre who couldn’t take no for an answer. I won’t let it spoil the night,” you answer him.

“That’s the spirit. Holler if he tries something like that again, I’ll have him kicked out,” Hank replies, setting down three ice-cold beers in front of you guys.

Yet somehow, the conversation never livened up.

Three bottles of Pulang Tikbalang later, you’ve had enough.

“This is about what that kapre said, isn’t it?” you finally say, slightly pissed.

The Twins look at each other with guilty expressions, and simultaneously nod.

“Do you boys wanna talk about it?”

They look at each other again. “Shit, this is awkward,” Crispin comments, scratching his head. Basilio nods in agreement, uncharacteristically silent. “We didn’t want to pressure you into anything you didn’t want to do,” the older twin continues.

“Look, I don’t want to ruin my relationship with my kuya just because we’re interested in the same girl,” Basilio says. “Same here,” Crispin adds.

“So we were waiting for you to make your own move,” Basilio continues.

“Ah. So the rumors are true,” you sighed.

“We’ll accept whatever outcome there is. If you choose me, or Basilio, or neither because this is fucking messy, we totally get it,” the older twin says, leaning back to stare at the ceiling.

Now the decision rests in your hands.

“Why don’t we talk about this somewhere more private?” you ask them.

You watch as both of them gulp. “Where do you wanna talk?” Basilio asks.

“Anywhere private.”

“I just cleaned my room earlier. Why don’t we continue this there?”

You nod, and they lead you away from the bar.

Looks like it’s going to be a long night.

Translations for non-Filipino speakers:

epal: in Filipino slang, usually refers to a person who inappropriately presents himself in a situation or butts into a conversation.

kapre: a tree-giant from Filipino mythology. Often described as very tall, dark, and hairy. Almost never seen without a cigar.

sayang: literally means waste. Can be used alone as an expression similar to "what a waste!"

torpe: someone who cannot spit their romantic or sexual feelings out to a crush or love interest

III

Author’s Notes:

Warnings: Smut. Filthy smut. Writer-is-definitely-going-to-the-second-circle-of-the-Seven-Circles-of-Hell-levels-of-filthy smut. Bawal bata, tulog na. If you're under 18 please turn back.

After the door closes behind the three of you, you sit on the bed, while Crispin sits on a chair near his brother’s desk. Basilio locks the door, and leans against it, unable to look at you.

“Right. So. How are we going to deal with this?” you ask them, crossing your legs.

“Don’t ask us,” Crispin says, swiveling the chair to face you. “You’re the one caught in the middle after all.”

Curse his choice of words.

“This is too weird,” Basilio speaks up. “If you want me to unlock the door, just say the word. We can walk out of this like nothing happened.”

“And then what? Things are going to be awkward between the three of us, I just know it,” you say to him, palming the back of your neck. “Things might get awkward with Amie and Hannah too, and I live with them. I don’t want our tropa to disband just because of relationship drama.”

“What about Amie and Hannah? Is it because we have history with those two?” Crispin asks.

“They’ve been trying to set me up with either of you. The fact that they also slept with you in the past also doesn’t help. Shit, this is messy.”

“Er, um,” Basilio stutters. “That might’ve been our fault.”

You furrow your brow and cross your arms. “Keep going.”

The Twins look at each other, as if gauging who should explain the situation. “So, we remained in contact after being used as a prize for bossing’s race with Maliksi, right?” Crispin starts.

“Uh huh.”

“Well, they mentioned a third roommate in passing and joked about lending us to her. Of course we blew them off, then Amie showed us a picture of you. We got curious and asked them to introduce you,” Basilio continues.

“I didn’t expect us five to become friends. And now we’re in this mess,” Crispin adds.

You look at them back and forth, and laugh in resignation. Elbows digging against your lap and palms pressed against your face, you rub your face and run it through your hair. “Amazing. Just amazing. See, I have a problem too.”

The Twins didn’t respond, eyes fixated on you.

“I like the two of you.”

You feel the air shift around you. Basilio’s standing upright by the door now, and Crispin straightened up too. The room is so quiet, you can hear them gulp in anticipation for what will happen next.

“There. I said it. The reason why I haven’t made a move at all is because of this exact moment that I was dreading. I didn’t want to choose,” you admit, feeling the blood rush to your head. “I just wanted for us three to stay like that, drinking buddies sprinkled with sexual tension.”

“And you’re in the middle, enjoying our attention,” Crispin says, crossing his arms.

“Selfish, I know,” you admit, head hanging low.

This is it, the moment that can make or break you three.

“Us three. If only...” you whisper, only for the words to fall flat on your tongue

You stand up, gathering your things and carrying your bag. “Nevermind. What a mess we’re in. I’ll go so you two can sort things out between the two of you. It’s been a fun ride.”

Basilio doesn’t move from the door, and behind you, you can hear Crispin getting up from his seat.

“We can still make this work, right kuya?” Basilio starts, looking over your head to give his brother a knowing look.

“Yeah, I think so,” Crispin replies. “What was that you said? The three of us?”

Your eyes widen, and you look at them back and forth. Their bodies are dangerously close to yours. Now you’re literally caught in the middle.

“I- uh…”

“I think we can work out an arrangement,” Basilio whispers, one hand moving to hold yours.

“Only if you want to,” Crispin adds, his breath kissing the back of your neck.

“I don’t want to lose either of you,” Basilio adds.

“Same here.”

Damn it all.

Giving in to your darkest, most hidden desires, you lean in to capture Basilio’s lips with yours, leaving his black eyes wide open in surprise. They flutter close, and he savors the kiss, slipping a tongue in. Then you turn to Crispin, and you give him the same sweet kiss as well.

“Damn, I didn’t mean like, now,” Basilio mutters, feeling the front of his trousers get tighter as he watches you make out with his brother.

Bringing your attention back to the younger twin, you loosen his tie, while you push out your ass to grind against Crispin. “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all.”

“Wait, are you sure about this? All of us drank tonight… we don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,” Crispin says, moving his hips away from you. Basilio pauses too, and wraps his hands around your wrists to still your hands, a look of concern on his face.

“Kuya’s right.”

“I’m a grown woman. I might’ve had a few bottles, but I know what I want,” you reassure them, waiting for the two to make a move. “I know I want you two for months.”

Basilio lets go of your hands and lets you do as you please, a cocky smirk on his lips. Behind you, you can feel Crispin’s gloved hands reaching for the zipper of your dress. “Really? How much do you want us? C’mon, say it,” Basilio asks, moving in to place kisses on your neck.

“I wanna hear it too,” Crispin whispers against your shoulder, and he punctuates it with a light kiss.

All of a sudden, you felt shy at the prospect of confessing your fantasies out loud. “Why don’t I just show you boys?”

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this one,” Basilio teases. “Consider it as payback for throwing up all over my shoes.”

“You’re still- ah!- mad about that?” you ask him, gasping in the middle of doing so when you felt a hand snake between your legs from behind. The older twin slips his fingers past your underwear, circling your clit with slow strokes.

“Not mad, I just want things to be fair,” Basilio teases, pulling your dress down. He gives your breasts a squeeze, fondling and rolling your nipples until they harden, and he seals his lips over your right one. Crispin moves from behind you and he takes his place next to his twin, lathing his tongue over the left. All four of their hands pawed at your flesh greedily.

You were at a loss for words because of how good they’re making you feel, soft moans bubbling from your throat.

“Speechless already, huh?” Crispin mumbles against your skin.

“Ngh! The wind girls weren’t lying, you two know what you’re doing,” you gasped, face flushed as you watched the Twins lavish their attention on your breasts.

“Shhh, stop changing the subject. Play along, or neither of us will make you cum,” he adds, pausing to give you a teasing lick, and resting his tongue on top of the hardened bud. On the other hand, Basilio is sucking like a starved babe while squeezing your still clothed behind.

You fake a scoff of indignation and grin. “Fine. I- oh fuck- want you two so much, I’ve been fantasizing for weeks.”

Basilio pauses to address you. “Describe them.”

You’re a little mortified, but the alcohol in your system pushes you to be bolder. “I imagined Basilio punishing me for ruining his shoes.”

“And how did he do that?” Crispin’s voice.

“He asked me to suck him off,” you start, and a pinch on your bottom from the subject of your fantasy tells you that he wanted to hear more details. “He fucked my face while pulling my hair and told me how good I was the whole time and that he forgave me.”

“What about me? What fantasies did you have?” Crispin asks again.

Your breath hitched in your throat but you pushed on. “Hearing how you scolded Basilio, I imagined you taking me from behind and saying the meanest, dirtiest things possible.”

The Twins looked at each other, and stopped, their lips leaving your breasts with a lewd pop. “You want to make them all come true?” Basilio asks.

Cheeks burning, you give them a curt nod.

The two of them lead you to the bed, where Crispin puts you on all fours, and he takes his place from behind. On the other hand, Basilio is standing near the edge of the bed, the bulge in his pants inches away from your face. You stare at it, licking your lips.

As you undid Basilio’s pants, he shrugs off his suit jacket and takes off his tie, then he takes off his dress shirt, revealing his abs and the trail of dark hair on his lower abdomen, disappearing into his briefs. From behind, you hear fabric shifting, then Crispin peels your panties off of you. He brings a gloved hand against your skin in a loud smack, making you cry out.

“Ah, wait, we need a safeword,” Crispin mentions, soothingly squeezing your skin.

“What about Eternos?” Basilio suggests, and Crispin cocks an eyebrow. “Wait, you mean, like the game?”

You stifle a laugh. “I’m fine with it,” you say to them, and they take it as a signal to continue.

The older twin dips a gloved finger between your folds, gathering your wetness, and tsked. “Look at you, already so fucking wet. You want this so much, huh?”

You nod frantically, then Basilio stills your head. “Open your mouth, baby. Tongue out.”

You oblige, and Basilio fishes his cock out of his briefs. Your eyes grow wider as you take in the sight of it; girthy, with a nice length, and a few veins running on the underside. You wonder if Crispin’s is the same. The twin in front of you lightly smacks his member against your tongue, and you proceed to lick it, running from the base to the tip, slicking it with saliva. You swirl your tongue around it, then try to slide it in your mouth as smoothly as possible.

As Basilio begins to breathe harder with each bob of your head, Crispin pulls your ass towards his face, and a choked moan escapes your lips as you feel his mouth on your heat, toying with your folds before he finally finds that sensitive nub. The older twin proceeds to lick and suck at it, eating you out like you’re the best damn meal of his life.

Meanwhile, you push a palm against Basilio’s thigh to make him pause, and before he can ask you if you’re fine, you take his balls in your mouth and fondle him with your tongue. Your hand pumps his neglected cock as you did so.

“Shit! Your mouth feels so damn good,” he hisses, breathing hard. When you take his dick back into your mouth, Basilio gathers your hair and uses it as a handle, watching his length disappear in your mouth over and over, his black eyes hazy with lust and his mouth whispering words of praise.

Crispin looks at his brother with a hint of envy, cock painfully hard against his trousers. He unzips it for relief, and proceeds to stroke himself as he continues to prepare you.

“Hey, Basilio, got any lube?”

“Um, there’s- ungh- a bottle of it under the pillow.”

“...you keep lube under your pillow? What the- and condoms? Can’t you put them in your drawers or something?”

Basilio doesn’t give his brother a response and focuses his attention on you. You gasp against his cock as you felt a cold, gloved hand prod against your asshole, and goosebumps formed on your flesh as you felt the cold lubricant smearing against your entrance. Crispin pushes his lubed thumb in, and you cry out in pleasure, your jaw opening wider for Basilio to claim. Then, two more fingers prod at your pussy, and you swear you can see stars as they slid in. The older twin toys with you while eating you out, and you feel a knot forming at the base of your stomach, threatening to uncoil at any moment.

You couldn’t take it. Basilio’s cock slides out of your mouth and you look over your shoulder, moaning and panting.

Crispin pauses from eating you out to ask you a question. “You’re gonna cum? You wanna cum on my fingers like the filthy slut you are?”

“Yes, please, please, let me cum,” you begged, and with a devilish smirk, Crispin dives right back in to finish the job.

You squeezed your eyes shut as the pleasure inside you exploded, shameless moans coming from your throat as your first orgasm hits you. Basilio watches the look of pleasure on your face as Crispin makes you cum, making his cock twitch.

“Now that’s how you please a woman,” Crispin teases, shooting his brother a challenging look while wiping your juices off of his face.

“Wait until it’s my turn,” Basilio replies, smirking.

Panting, legs wobbling, you didn’t get to rest as Crispin takes his cock and slides it in you. In front of you, Basilio cups your face and directs you back to his cock, smirking. “You’re doing so well, baby. You’re taking us like a champ, you know that?”

“Fuck,” Crispin hisses from behind you. “You like this, you little slut? You like being fucked by two cocks at the same time?” he asks you, each word punctuated with a hard thrust.

Now you’re really caught in the middle.

Basilio’s panting heavily now, his thrusts becoming erratic against your mouth. You know he’s close, and you brace yourself for what’s coming. Eyes screwed shut, he lets out a low groan as he spills inside of your mouth, his cum painting your tongue white. You try to swallow it all, but a few stray drops dribble down your chin. The younger twin cleans you up, and kisses you deeply, not minding his taste on your mouth. He sits on the bed to catch his breath, and allows you to rest on his thighs.

Behind you, Crispin begins to rut faster, his thumb still in your ass as he pounded you. You writhe and cry against Basilio’s lap, bracing yourself from each harsh thrust. The younger twin pets your hair, but he moves his hand away when Crispin pushes your head against his brother’s lap.

“Take it all of it,” Crispin groans. “Ungh, you make me so horny, you little slut.”

Not wanting to miss out on the fun, Basilio gets an idea.

“Hey, kuya. Hold her up.”

Crispin blinks before obliging his brother’s request, clamping a hand around your throat. “Is this fine?” he asks you, and you nod a few times. He tightens his hold and pulls you to his toned chest, your hair sticking to his skin from your sweat. Basilio kisses you, then latches on one of your breasts. One gloved hand fondles and pulls at your nipples, while the other moves south to stroke you.

“Ah! I think I’m gonna cum again…” you choked, face red and tears forming at the edge of your eyes.

“Say our names,” Crispin whispers against your ear in a low growl.

You mutter their names at first, but it turns to full blown cries as your climax fast approaches.

“Crispin! Basilio!”

It hits you so hard, your eyes roll to the back of your head. You cried shamelessly, and Crispin places a kiss on your open mouth, tongue slipping in and teeth clashing with yours. He pulls out and finishes on your back, cock resting between the valley of your cheeks, still half-hard.

The Twins move to clean you up, looking around for tissues and anything to wipe you with.

“So,” Basilio says. “One more round?”

Your eyes widen, and you look down to see that Basilio is hard again.

“How- what the fuck? What are you two?”

Crispin sighs. “Hannah and Amie never told you? We’re demigods.”

“We don’t get sick and our injuries heal really fast. Talagbusao is our dad,” Basilio adds, and you give him a disbelieving glare.

“You didn’t need to let that last detail slip out, gago,” Crispin berates him as he pulls you close to his muscular chest. He lay down on a pillow, one arm propping his head up.

After a few seconds of silence, you say something. “At least let me have some water first.”

“Right.”

The Twins stare at each other.

“One of us has to fetch it,” Crispin says.

“What? Why me?” Basilio complains, scratching his head.

“Because I’m older, and I’ve worked hard to give her two orgasms in a row.”

“Hey! I’m sure that last one was thanks to me.”

You groan, grabbing a pillow to cover your face. “Ugh, please don’t turn this into a competition about who made me cum the most. Just get me my water, pretty please, Basilio?”

At the request, Basilio smiles and dresses haphazardly to get it for you. “Don’t start without me.”

You close your eyes with a smile. Crispin buries his face against your hair and plays with it. “You have him wrapped around your finger, you know?”

You chuckle at the remark, and Crispin kisses your temple. “Just don’t hurt my little brother.”

“I have no intention of hurting either of you,” you tell him.

Basilio comes back with a pitcher and some glasses, and once everyone’s hydrated and ready, the night continues.

The Twins spoil you with their attention, hands roaming your body as they planted kisses on your skin. Basilio sucks on your collarbone, biting experimentally and leaving marks that would darken in the morning, which draws a whine from your throat. Not wanting to be outdone, Crispin kisses your back, then the back of your neck, and he found a sweet spot that made you moan at that place where your ear connects to your neck. Basilio observes this and does the same to the other side.

“Hey, um, can I do it in your ass?” Crispin whispers in your ear, almost sheepishly, and you stare at him for a few seconds before nodding.

“Sure. Be gentle. And use a condom.”

“Of course. You go on top. What’s our safeword again?” he asks you, testing your knowledge.

You roll your eyes and try not to laugh. “Eternos.”

“Good girl,” Basilio says.

Flipping yourself around, you lean into Crispin’s lap. “Here, let me help,” you say as you grasp his cock and start to pump. The younger twin behind you reaches for the lube and prepares your ass. You sigh with pleasure as you feel the cold sensation of the product on your skin. Crispin sighs as you slide his length between your lips, head bobbing up and down, and you feel him grow inside your mouth. You give the tip a small lick before doing the same thing you did to Basilio, cupping his balls with your mouth and fondling them with your tongue.

“I want you now,” Crispin rasps, tugging your hair to get you off of him.

You smirk, turning around to give him a great view of your ass. He reaches around for a condom, finds one, and tears the foil open. After sliding the rubber down his shaft, he positions himself against your hole, pressing against the tight ring of muscle. You wince in pain as he starts penetrating you, prompting him to squeeze more lube to relieve your discomfort.

“Relax,” Basilio instructs you, planting soothing kisses at your jaw. You did as he said and unclenched your muscles, entrusting yourself to the two of them.

As Crispin pushes past the ring of muscle, you sigh in relief, discomfort replaced with the feeling of fullness. You lean back into his hard chest, a soft sigh leaving your lips as he starts to move. Meanwhile, Basilio kneels between your legs, rubbing your clit with the head of his dripping cock, but he freezes before he slides it in.

“What?” you ask with concern.

“We’re out of condoms.”

“Just pull out,” you tell him with a strained voice, gasping as Crispin moves inside you.

“No, you don’t understand. We’re demigods. Our… um.. Yeah, we’re really potent.”

You smirk at him. “I’ll ask the girls for something in the morning,” you say against your better judgment. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Cum all over me.”

His cock twitches at your last suggestion.

“Ugh, Basilio, you’re really killing the mood here,” Crispin strains to say, holding you gently by the neck. “I pulled out too, remember? Make up your mind already. I wouldn’t mind having her to myself for now, though.”

“Not a chance,” Basilio retorts, sliding the tip of his cock past your folds and pushing inside.

A loud cry rips from your throat at the sensations, feeling stuffed to the maximum as two cocks start to pump inside you. Crispin’s grip on your neck tightens, while you tangle your hands through Basilio’s hair, pulling him closer and kissing him.

Soon, The Twins find a steady rhythm, syncing their movement so you can feel the full force of their thrusts. Basilio throws one of your legs over his shoulder and begins to massage your clit with his thumb, while Crispin fondles your breasts with his free hand, using the tip of his fingers to roll, squeeze, and pull at your nubs. With every thrust they give, you clench, drawing a groan from both of them as they felt themselves being squeezed by your muscles.

“Oh God,” you whine. “Fuck, you both feel so good.”

“Say our names,” Basilio growls, and you oblige.

You chant their names like a prayer, underscored by the slapping of skin as the Twins fucked both of your holes. Hearing their names only spurred them on, and their movements became more desperate, sweat rolling off of your bodies.

“Basilio! Crispin!”

Underneath you, Crispin gropes at your breast harder, beads of sweat rolling off of his forehead and dripping to your skin. “Your ass feels too good, I’m gonna cum,” he hissed between clenched teeth, and you silently thank Bathala that he’s near his limit. The lube is starting to wash off.

With a few more rough thrusts, he cums, shooting inside the rubber. Crispin cups your jaw and kisses you, deep and sweet, tasting your tongue. You’re on the verge of climax now too, and you give Basilio a desperate look. He understood what you meant.

The younger twin thrusts harder and faster while still rubbing that sensitive nub between your legs furiously, and the older one helps by stimulating your nipples once again. The bombardment of sensation is too much, and you feel white hot heat racing through your body as you cum one last time, voice hoarse as a throaty moan escapes past your open mouth.

The spasm of your muscles is enough to send Basilio over the edge too, pulling out of you and spilling his load all over the mound of your pussy, and your stomach. You feel Crispin slip out of you too. Basilio leans in to kiss you, almost tenderly, but still full of desperation, tongue and teeth.

After a quick cleanup and another drink of water, the three of you lay in a heap of limbs, exhausted. Crispin doesn’t shift at all, content on letting you lie next to him, while Basilio moves next to you, effectively sandwiching you between the two of them on the narrow bed.

Everyone is sated, and with your eyes growing heavy, you wanted nothing but sleep.

“So, who’s better?”

You don’t know who said it, but you raised your hand to give him a middle finger. “Tangina niyo, you’re both good. End of discussion. Now please let me sleep.”

Thank Bathala that they did.

The next morning, all three of you wake up sweaty, stinking, and really, really hungry.

“Good morning to you two,” you sigh, snaking your arms around theirs. Each of them gave you a kiss on your temple. “Damn, I’m starving,” you said, sitting up. “Let’s take a shower and grab something to e-”

Underneath the three of you, the bed’s legs give out, and a loud thud can be heard throughout the house. As you three scramble for purchase, frantic footsteps are approaching, and the door bursts open.

“What was that? Crispin is missing from his room and-” Hank blurts, toting his good ol’ triple barrel shotgun "Ama, Anak, at, Espiritu Santo". Funnily enough, when he sees the tangle of limbs before him, he utters the same words and quickly turns away. Alexandra arrives shortly after, gives them a quick glance, and shuts the door.

Breakfast with their bossing is filled with a mortifying quiet.

You barely touch your food, embarrassment burning your cheeks, and you shoot a glance at your twin lovers.

“Next time, lock the door,” Alex finally says, getting up from the table with a coffee in her hands. She’s too fucking exhausted to deal with this.

“It’s Basilio’s fault!” Crispin yells after her. Basilio made no attempts to defend himself, knowing that he forgot to lock the door again after he came back with the water.

Grumbling, you finally take a bite of your breakfast, jacket draped over your shoulders despite the heat to hide the bruises on your body. “The girls are gonna have a field day when they see me like this.”

“I need to replace the bed,” Basilio mumbles, stuffing his mouth with rice.

The three of you looked at each other, and laughed.

“So, see you next week?” Crispin asks with a smile, and Basilio gives you a pleading, doe-eyed look.

“Yeah. See you two next week.”

Translations for non-English speakers:

tropa: ground of friends. People you chill with

tangina niyo: Filipino profanity. Roughly translates to "you sons of bitches"

Ama, Anak, at Espiritu Santo: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It’s Hank’s weapon’s actual name in the comics.

[missgeniality]

A Date With Destiny (m)

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning

➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna​​ is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this!   This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy! 

When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods. 

Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning. 

Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold. 

“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity. 

“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully. 

“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.

Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.” 

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?” 

“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation. 

Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.

Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?” 

“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious. 

“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.

For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well. 

You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.

Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight? 

BTS is on your flight? 

What are the odds?

Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography. 

Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.

But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.

So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger. 

BTS who? 

Biggest boyband who? 

You only listen to Frank Sinatra. 

“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.

Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”

You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally. 

“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”

His ticket shows the same characters as yours. 

Huh?

With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help. 

“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.

She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.

The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved. 

Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?

“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could. 

“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.

“No no. No trouble” He beams back. 

Aw, you are in trouble. 

As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face. 

Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true. 

Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth. 

Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.

An Angel was calling you. 

You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.

Wait...

Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you. 

“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”

Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all. 

Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile. 

The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously. 

“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.  

“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean. 

“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.

“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.

“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.” 

“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.

“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..” 

Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in. 

“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb. 

He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.” 

He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.  

You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.

You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told. 

During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.

A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep. 

Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began. 

He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.

But something about you made him open up.

Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.

But.

It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.

Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you. 

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you. 

In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you. 

The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family. 

Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen. 

Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request. 

“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement. 

Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”

He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.” 

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.

High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.

You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck. 

As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart. 

“Hey mami, come here often?”

“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”

“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”

You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him. 

“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.

“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”

As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon. 

“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”

“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”

“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”

You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”

Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”

“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”

“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”

That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).

“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”

The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”

“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.” 

“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”

“How is that pertinent?”

“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”

“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence. 

Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”

“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.

“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”

Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car. 

Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.

Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you. 

A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that. 

But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of. 

All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far. 

So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode. 

“J-Jungkook?”

Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma. 

Y/N. In person.

He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this. 

Right?

“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”

Wrong. 

Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do. 

He forces his body to action.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall. 

Pause.

"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"

You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!" 

“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!” 

Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.

And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor. 

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”

“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”

Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so. 

But you’re not anyone else. 

He isn’t just anyone.  

Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.

The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two. 

Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.

He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours. 

Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century. 

To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind. 

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours. 

He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.

Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.

The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation. 

“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”

“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”

“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”

“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”

“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”

She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end. 

The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark. 

“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”

You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.

After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.” 

The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible. 

Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.

Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken. 

After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”

A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him. 

The elevator door opens, and people walk out. 

But that’s not where your attention is. 

You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm. 

The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.

Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad. 

Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present. 

Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.

“It’s a shoot.” 

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” 

You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.

Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile. 

“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too. 

The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space. 

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!” 

The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed. 

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again. 

“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”

The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.

“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.” 

Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”. 

The punctuation was not vocalized. 

Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself. 

The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there? 

You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.

So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna. 

So far, no sign of him. 

This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far. 

But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode. 

And then you hear it. 

You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but. 

When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.

Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck. 

The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.

So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.

“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight. 

“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”

Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight. 

 “Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”

Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”

Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.

“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement. 

“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?

Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.

Carpe noctem it is. 

“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart. 

“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.” 

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.

“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.

He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first. 

Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.

Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own. 

“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes.  “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”

“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”

If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.

“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.

“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.” 

If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter. 

“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.

“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?” 

“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”

Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight. 

“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.

Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger. 

The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware. 

Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer. 

Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue. 

Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.

Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).

When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”

The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”

His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”

“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”

The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch. 

You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.

“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”

You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”

He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates. 

Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?” 

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.

Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air. 

Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.

The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative. 

Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”

With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?” 

Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress. 

“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”

You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.

He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured. 

“On your knees.” he commands.  

Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-

Wow.

You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.

He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.

And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.” 

The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.

You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on. 

You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.

“Spit for me.”

Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm. 

A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.

“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”

You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head. 

Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise. 

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.

“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”

In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.

Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”

The last word slips out unwittingly. 

Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him. 

Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him. 

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”

Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”

Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.

Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.” 

It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over. 

You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.

The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench. 

He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening. 

“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod. 

With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum. 

Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you. 

Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him. 

“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.

Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.

“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss. 

“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair. 

How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.

Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt. 

“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”

Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room. 

“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”

You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom. 

He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you. 

Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention. 

“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought. 

“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret. 

Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.

A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch. 

“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”

You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.

Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.

“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth. 

“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way. 

He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”

“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”

Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face. 

You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-

The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.

You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.

“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”

“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”

Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs. 

“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.

His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem. 

“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-” 

“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”

“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”

A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him. 

If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason. 

Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard. 

“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him. 

Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making. 

Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls. 

“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”

“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat. 

He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it. 

“I’ll do this.”

A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response. 

“Go on baby, ride me.” 

The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better. 

“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.

“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!” 

“That’s fucking right, only me.” 

Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away. 

Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve. 

“Want some help?”

One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full. 

“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.

“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”

It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high. 

He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face. 

Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.

A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.

In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”

“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!” 

Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.” 

Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way. 

What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole. 

“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs. 

He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core. 

Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours. 

You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.” 

Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon. 

After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart. 

A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.” 

The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness. 

“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”

Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy. 

This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance. 

He finds none. 

Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go. 

You inch closer. 

Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his. 

You let your lips convey the answer.

Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win. 

“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”

He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words. 

“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst. 

“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”

A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”

He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it. 

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.

“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows.  You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him. 

After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far. 

Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up. 

His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement. 

“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”

Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”

A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,

“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”

Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!

[helliontherapscallion]

Catching Up (Adrenaline Junkie Part 9)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 2,156         

“Did you kidnap a child?”

“I can ex- wait what? Of course I didn’t! Why would you think that?”

“Well, for starters, you just came home with a random kid! What were-”

“Dad. I didn’t kidnap anybody, especially Arthur,” you said exasperated. “It started when I was leaving the village.”

And so, you told your dad about how you met Arthur. Needless to say, he was furious. “(Y/n) (m/n) Minecraft, you yelled at a child? Not just a child, but an orphan that was so clearly in need of help?! I raised you better than that.”

“Dad, I know that yelling at kids is wrong. Just-just let me finish.”

He gave you a wicked side eye and nodded at you to continue. “So then he told me that he was alone. That he had no family. I couldn’t just leave him out there Dad. He would’ve been alone in the city. Hell, he’s been alone for god knows how long already” you ran a stressed hand through your already messy hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you if he could crash here-”

“(Y/n).”

“-but he could’ve got hurt! The village’s dangerous at night-”

“(Y/n).”

“Do you know how many people get mugged there just in a day? God, I can’t imagine him getting hurt, he’s so young and-”

“(Y/n) (m/n) Minecraft.” Your hand froze in your hair. “...Yeah?”

“It was a good idea to bring him here. But there’s gotta be someone out there looking for him.”

“I really don’t think so Dad. You saw him when I brought him here, he looked like he didn’t get a proper bath in months! Even if he did have someone, I’d rather him be here instead of with the bastards that left him like that.”

He sighed. “You’re right. I remember when I found you when you were a baby. Your biological parents were awful, they ignored you. I found you on the porch, they must’ve left you there overnight. You were filthy and you were so small and fragile. I remember being so pissed that they treated you like that, but they never gave me their names.”

You squinted at him. “You’ve never told me that. You told me that you found me in an alleyway.”

“I didn’t want to tell you how I actually found you, it was never important for you to know.”

“What do you mean it’s not impor-” you stopped yourself. That’s not important right now. “We’re going to talk about this later. Right now, we need to talk about Arthur before he gets out of the shower.”

Glancing at the clock, you felt worry engulf your being. “Speaking of, he’s been in there a while, do you think he’s okay?” You felt your heart drop. “What if he slipped!” You stood up in a panic. Philza pulled you back onto the bed giving you a knowing look.

“He’s okay hun. Remember, he’s probably just enjoying the shower.”

You bounced your leg. “You’re right, you’re right… What’s with that look?”

“What look?”

“That look.”

“I just think-”

You heard a knock on your door and a small voice calling your name. Immediately jumping up and forgetting about the conversation, you opened your door. 

“Hey buddy, have a good shower?”

He yawned, rubbing at his eye with a closed fist. The pajamas he wore were slightly too big, but he would grow into them. His auburn hair that he came in the house with was now a brilliant copper color and you could now make out freckles dotting his pale cheeks.

“Mhm.”

You softly smiled at him and grabbed his hand leading him to Wilbur’s old room since it had the comfiest bed. You helped the small-statured boy into the large bed and he flopped down without pulling the covers over himself. You huffed in amusement, pulling the soft blankets out from under him and tucking him in.

You spoke in a calm voice, not wanting to disrupt the peace that engulfed the room. You gently brushed the hair out of his face. “Sleep well, Artie.”

As you stood up and turned to walk away, he grabbed the back of your shirt. Glancing back, you saw that he had his eyes groggily half-open and he stared at you blearily. “Stay?”

Oh, you couldn’t say no to that. Feeling your heart melt, you whispered “of course buddy.” You pulled up an old chair and sat next to the bedside holding his small hand in your larger one. He was out like a light. 

He was so small for his age. It was probably because of the malnutrition from being homeless, and that broke your heart. Your poor, poor baby.

…Wait.

Wait.

Your poor baby? What the fuck were you thinking? This child doesn’t even know you, you only met him earlier in the day. And yet, you already felt affectionate towards him. You wanted to protect him from danger. Why were you feeling like this?

You heard the door creak open and a small sliver of light streamed into the room. Philza poked his head through the small crack in the door. He smiled at you when he saw you sitting next to Arthur holding his hand as he slept. Reaching in an arm, he gestured for you to follow him before slipping out and closing the door.

Reluctantly, you slowly let go of the boy’s slender hand and quietly opened the nightstand drawer. You pulled out a pen and paper and wrote a quick note for him in the morning in your messy handwriting.

“Arthur, when you wake up, Philza and I’ll be downstairs making breakfast. Hope you like bacon and eggs : )

-(Y/n)”

You placed the paper on the nightstand where you hoped that Arthur would see when he woke up and quietly left the room. Philza leaning against the wall greeted you. He was smiling softly at you. He once again gestured for you to follow him downstairs.

Philza felt ecstatic that you were going to give him another grandson. Even if you would inevitably deny being a parental figure to Arthur, he knew that you were going to accept it sooner or later. He raised you, so he should know when you deeply care for someone. Arthur and you both shared a love for innovation and creativity, so he knew that you two would bond over that. He felt like soaring high in the sky. He was so happy that there’s going to be another addition to the family soon. 

He sat you down onto the couch and disappeared into the kitchen. A few moments later, he came back with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Your favorite.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime hun.”

You both sat in a comfortable silence on the couch and stared into the crackling flame in the fireplace. The fire swirled with various reds, oranges, and yellows illuminating the living room. You closed your eyes for a brief moment, savoring the flavor of the chocolate and the smell of smoke with the fire popping in the background. You felt relaxed.

“So, how’s Tommy and Wilbur? Are they adjusting well to L’manberg?”

“Oh, they’re thriving. Wilbur’s a natural leader so he’s in his element and Tommy’s always exploring with Tubbo. They get into trouble sometimes, but they always come back in one piece, so I’m not worried about them. They’re having fun.”

“And you?”

“I set up my new workshop next to the capitol building. I think I’m gonna start selling some of the stuff I make, I think it’d make a decent profit.”

“I think that’s a great idea. Ya know that the people in the village are crazy about you, right?”

You groaned, dragging your hand down your face tiredly. “How could I not? I hate it.”

“Why would you hate it? They really admire your work, you should appreciate that.”

“Dad, I do appreciate that they admire my work, but do you remember how they treated me when I first went there after I lost my wing? They treated me like a fucking outcast. And now they’re acting like they actually know me and that they were always friends with me. I know everybody deserves a second chance, but I can’t help but feel like they’re on thin ice.” 

“People change hun. Maybe they realize that how they treated you was wrong and they want to make amends?”

“That’s the thing. They’re only treating me like this only because of my inventions. I can only tolerate it for so long. I don’t even know why they’re treating me like this, I’m not special. I’m just another person.”

“...You aren’t gonna let a few two-faced people ruin your vacation, right?”

“No.”

His cheeks slowly stretched into a smile. “Why? Who are you?”

“I’m (y/n)?”

“I said who. Are. You?”

You spoke up a little more confidently, but kept your voice down. “I’m (y/n) (m/n) Minecraft.”

He quietly laughed. “Damn right you are. You’re ‘(Y/n) Minecraft, Conqueror of the Unknown’. You’re (y/n) goddamn Minecraft and don’t you forget it.”

You chuckled. “You read that book? ‘(Y/n) Minecraft, Conqueror of the Unknown’ was a bit too dramatic for my taste.”

“Why wouldn’t I read something all about my precious little inventor?” He drug out with an overly sweet tone.

“Dad, I’m 20 years old. I’m not little anymore.”

He slung an arm across your shoulders and pulled you into his side. “I know, I know, but you’ll always be my child.”

You sighed and leaned into him. You haven’t spent any time with him since you left the house to help Wilbur and Tommy fight for independence, so this felt nice. “I missed you Dad.”

“Not a day goes by where I don’t miss you or your brothers. It’s way too quiet around here without you four.”

“Do you remember when Tommy put green dye in the shampoo to try and prank me?”

An almost silent laugh reverberated throughout his chest, sounding slightly muffled. “Of course I do. It took at least a few weeks to get it off my skin and a full month after that to get it out of my hair.”

“You should’ve seen his face when I walked into the kitchen in the morning,” you deepen your voice. “‘If you’re not in the shower, then who is?’ Aaaannd then you walked into the kitchen looking like you lost a fight with a witch.” You snorted. “You didn’t know why everyone was staring at you.”

He huffed. “You guys didn’t even tell me until after breakfast.”

“Have you seen yourself in the mornings? You’re literally so grumpy. We didn’t have a death wish.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad in the morning, Mx. I-can’t-function-without-eight-hours-of-sleep.”

“At least I’m fully awake in the morning.”

“Oh, wow, what a zinger,” he said in a monotone voice.

You reached up to playfully slap his arm. “Shuddup.”

You both quietly laughed before the room fell back into a comfortable silence. You took a deep breath. “Arthur knows about The Warden. What it did to me”

You felt him tense up and heard his heart start to beat a little faster. He moved his arm away and leaned back to look you in the eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. He said that he knew what happened and he needed my help. He… he said that The Warden took someone important to him.”

“Was it his paren-”

“I don’t know. I’m going to talk to him about it tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to talk to him with you?”

“I don’t know if Arthur’s comfortable with that yet. I’m not even sure if he trusts me enough to tell me.”

You grabbed your’s and Philza’s empty mugs and took them to the kitchen. You ran your hands down your face. You felt very drained after everything that happened today. You weren’t used to so much human interaction, let alone people staring at you like you were some kind of deity when you weren’t. You leaned against the sink and closed your eyes. 

“(Y/n), I’m turning in for the night. Is there anything you need before I go to bed?”

“No, thank you Dad.”

“Alright, goodnight. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You heard his retreating footsteps gradually fade out and the room was thick with silence yet again. The darkness in the room was cut by the moonlight streaming in through the window. Your mind was racing as you remembered that you were going to have to talk to Arthur about The Warden soon. 

You hadn’t talked about The Warden for years and now you were being forced into it. You didn’t think you were ready. You wanted to move on with your life, but The Warden was inevitable. It was everywhere around you. It won’t ever leave you alone, will it?

You didn’t think you were going to get much sleep tonight.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@acecarddraws  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @ravennightingaleandavatempus  @dirtydiavolo  @yeiras-world  @immadatmostthings  @hee-hee-haw  @jackalopedoodles  @m1lkmandan  @vanhakirja  @im-a-depressed-gay  @coolleviauchihadreamerlove  @questioning-sanity  @camisascam

@bongwaterflavoredgatorade  @kakamiissad  @jayistrash4  @lifestylesleep  @speedymaximoff  @sun-shark-tooth  @appetiteofapeoplepleaser  @lestrangenymph  @kinismanditory  @dragons-lurk-here  @rinzyx05  @the-wandering-pan-ace  @sparkling-gayyyy  @angelic-scent  @shinipii  @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander  @izzydimensional  @used-avocado  @laura--444  @wing-non

[thesmokingguns]

Mine Part 2

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Reader

Request:”So i read the nikki sixx one 'mine' and i am absolute sucker for those kinds of stories and i was wondering if you could write a sequel with reader actually having the twins and how he reacts to labour and their birth etc. “

Word Count : 1247

A/N: This very fluffy for me. I hope to be back to breaking hearts tomorrow with some angst

Taglist: @ayablackwood @littlemisscare-all  @thenobodies-inc@dannasixxworld  @val-sixx​ @nikkisqueenofsleaze @rocknrollsoul76@aggressive-slytherin @aligsilva00 @agroupiewhore@leatherandheels @midnightatvegas @samiyaffaslover

You sat on the yoga ball bouncing and rocking, the nerve in your leg acting up from how one of twins was sitting in your belly. You were rubbing your stomach, stretched out and looking exhausted, stressed, and goddamn beautiful.

Any second, any day it would be time.

The hospital bag was packed away in the car, along with two new car seats installed and checked at the local fire station, ready to bring home our two little ones.

Your eyes were on the notebook in front of you, the pregnancy brain had you needing to write down everything you needed to do because things were there one second and gone the next.

A glisten of sweat was on your forehead and I watched the way you breathed, hand on your stomach as you rocked, legs shaking ever so slightly.

“Hey, beautiful, are you okay?” Watching the way your eyes dance to meet mine, I see the pain there and am almost falling over myself as I make my way over to you.

My hand taking one of yours, a hand on your lower back as I squat beside you . Instantly leaning on me, your weight surprises me as I see you gritting your teeth.

“I’ve been timing my contractions for the last few hours. My water hasn’t broken yet but I’m about 8-9 minutes apart-“ You bent forward your hand squeezing mine like it would break fingers, “7-8 minutes apart.” You were trembling.

All the information from the birthing class slipped out of my brain at that point and I just sat there, blankly wondering what to do.

What do I do?

“Nikki, I need you to help me stand up. I don’t think I can walk by myself to the car.” Your voice was so calm. How were you calm?

But I was following your directions watching the way you grimaced, my heart in my throat as we made our way to the car.

The way you shot me this little smile through your pain, you were so sure that it was going to be all right. The fear was leaving me as I saw that smile. You made me feel like we were doing this and we were just a. Step away from happiness.

Everything felt like a blur. The drive. The hospital. Even your labor.

Though I can see the pain on your face. The wash your teeth pressed together, hand making a fist around my fingers, sweat pouring as a nurse dabbed your forehead with a wet cloth.

You were so strong. I was so in awe of your strength. At the sound of the first cry, the way you did a smile, so slight watching the little girl be carried to be weighed and her eyes washed.

But you were focused on bringing the little man into the world. And two minutes later you were having two small beans laid on your chests like trophies as the doctor stitched you and cleaned you.

And that was the moment, our two babies in your arms, the hair that escaped your braid stuck to your forehead, eyes free of any makeup, and just in this post birth exhaustion that I realized how lucky I was. How absolutely fucking amazing my life was.

And you looked up at me, so happy and full of joy. It was everything I ever wanted.

“Do you want to hold them?” The nurse looked at you like you were crazy. A new mother putting in all that work and offering the babies to the idiot who got her pregnant. “Sit down and they’ll hand them to you.” You commanded the room and everyone listened.

They were so small in my arms. So tiny, like a doll. Sleeping and probably missing the warmth of your body. And you were taking a picture, capturing this moment forever, wanting me to have this.

How was it that after you just gave birth you could still be so selfless and loving?

The first  four month at home I watched you grow into the role of motherhood. Walking around the house in your overalls and cotton sports bra to breastfeed the babies at a moment's notice. Cleaning the house of diapers and everyday messes. Managing to cook or order chinese. How did you become superwoman?

And it was all so easy for you.

Not easy as in you didn’t struggle but easy in the sense you felt happy with what was happening. There was this bigger purpose that you had been missing.

You hadn’t realized how much you wanted to be a mother until we had the two bundles of joy. And as you got softer I just managed to prickle in fatherhood.

This need to protect and provide settling into my bones. I wanted to the 1950’s TV Dad because you were the perfect June Cleaver. I mean, for Christ Sakes, I came home and there was a Cherry pie cooling in the kitchen.

I looked across the table at you, the softness of your face as you listened for the babies who you had put down for the night. Both of us had given them baths, shoulder to shoulder, working as a team.

Maybe that was my favorite part of being a parent. The teamwork of you and me, doing this together. Maybe I would never be a TV dad because I was always going to roll up my sleeves and be an active participant in the raising of our kids.

As I saw you sip your water, probably wishing it was red wine, I thought about our life. Our partnership. And in that moment I had everything. I had everything I had ever wanted in my life.

“Are you okay?” your voice was so soft and I realized my eyes had welled with tears. You were moving over to me, wrapping me in your arms. You smelled like baby detergent and lavender. So calming and relaxing. You slid onto my knee holding me as I sobbed, feeling insane as I did so.

“I’m sorry.” I got out trying to laugh it off. Your hands held my cheeks, thumbs brushing away tears and lips catching any that were still trying to fall out. “I’m just so happy. I never thought that I would have this. And it’s everything to me. I just feel.” I stopped feeling selfish with my next comment but you gave me a smirk.

“You are loved, NIkki. We love you. All four of us.” you grabbed my hand placing it on your stomach, “You remember when we thought breastfeeding meant I couldn't get pregnant? We were very wrong.” The way you were beaming, absolutely glowing. Another baby.

We hadn’t had sex more than a handful of time. Sleep having been so important to us and you needed time to heal.

But we had talked about having more kids the first night home. After we had gotten the twins down we had curled up in bed, whispering about our family, our dreams. What we wanted to teach them and what we wanted them to believe in.

And we were making our dreams come true. You and me and now three babies.

“We’re going to need to buy a tour bus.” You laughed so loudly at this, letting me kiss you, hand on your stomach as I thought about how I did it again and how you were mine but also how glad I was that I was yours

[nastybuckybarnes]

In a Heartbeat  -  Four

Pairing: Fireman!Bucky X Reader

Summary: You’ve always been careful with your heart. With your condition, you don’t exactly have any other choice. The last time you let someone in, you paid the price. A price you don’t plan on paying again. Until Bucky comes in and shatters your carefully crafted world.

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Almost Smut

Word Count: 2.3K

A/n: hello I hope you all enjoy this!! I’m loving this series and I hope to keep updating it and Of Kings and Beasts regularly. Idk though. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

~*~

“You’re sure I look good?”

Nat groans and climbs off your couch reluctantly, grabbing you by the shoulders and stopping you from pacing anymore.

“You look gorgeous.” You bite your bottom lip nervously, hands itching to come up to your mouth.

Your hair is pushed behind your ears, natural and beautiful, and your makeup is light. Adorning your body is a simple light blue dress that stops just above your knees, as well as a beige cardigan that hangs loosely off of your shoulders.

Nat grabs you a pair of beige heels and shoves them into your hands.

“Put your shoes on and stop worrying. He’s on his way up so even if you didn’t look good there’s no time to change now.” You nod, taking a few deep breaths before crouching down and putting your shoes on. Right as you’re doing up the clasp around your ankle there's a knock on your door.

You freeze in place, looking at Natasha in absolute terror, and she rolls her eyes.

“It’s open!” She calls. You shake your head, one shoe on and the other off as you run to your bedroom.

“I can’t,” you whisper as the door starts to open. Hiding away in your bedroom, you listen to Nat greet Bucky.

“She’s almost ready. Just needs to grow a pair,” The redhead says loudly, her footsteps clomping towards the bedroom door.

She whips it open, ready to give you an earful, but when she sees the genuine fear on your face she reconsiders.

“Beans, you’re gonna be okay. He’s a real gentleman and he won’t do anything that you don’t want to do, I promise.” You take a few deep breaths, trying to hold back tears.

“What if I get hurt again, Nat? I don’t think I could handle it.” The weak whimper that leaves you has her heart shattering in her chest.

“He won’t hurt you. If he does I’ll kill him, I swear I will.” You sniffle and chuckle softly, sliding your foot into your other shoe and doing the clasp up.

“Okay. I think I’m ready.” She nods, taking your hand and giving it a firm squeeze before stepping aside and motioning to the door.

You take a deep breath, lift your chin, then leave your bedroom.

Bucky stands in the doorway, a bouquet of flowers in his grasp. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a black button-up, as well as a leather jacket.

“Wow,” he whispers, eyes wide as he takes you in.

“You look... wow.”

You smile shyly at him. “You clean up pretty nice yourself, James.” He chuckles, then, as if remembering he’s holding flowers, offers the bouquet to you.

“I uh... I didn’t know what kind of flowers you’d like... and Steve said to get red roses but Nat said that red roses are for love and I think it’s too early for that because this is our first date and all and I really didn’t wanna scare you away and now I’m definitely talking too much but I’ve been looking forward tot his for.. since we set our real first date and-” Nat interrupts his rambling, hating and loving seeing her usually so confident friend stumbling over his words.

“You’re doing great, Casanova. Keep this up and she won’t even leave.” You glare at Nat over your shoulder, not wanting her to be mean to Bucky.

“Thank you, I love them.”

He got you a bouquet of beautiful lavender roses, white lilies, and an assortment of small little leaves that tie the whole bouquet together.

“Nat, can you put these in a vase for me please?” You hand the bouquet to her after taking a long sniff, smiling eagerly at her. She nods, taking them from you and handing you your purse.

“Now go on. Have fun kids, use a condom and all that.” You groan, risking a glance at Bucky to see that his cheeks are bright pink.

Feeling better at the fact that you’re not the only nervous one, you take his outstretched arm and allow him to walk you out of your apartment.

“So where are you taking me?” You ask, smiling up at him.

“Well, I know this little café that makes these nice little sandwiches. I figured we could start there, grab a bite to eat and see where the day takes us.” You nod, taking a few deep breaths to calm your heart.

~*~

“I’m really glad you gave me a chance, I know things started really rocky but I... I’m glad I get a second chance.”

You smile at him, setting down your cup of tea and nodding.

“Of course. I don’t think I would have ever heard the end of it from Nat if I didn’t anyway.” The two of you share a laugh, him smiling brightly at you.

“I’ll make sure I thank her.” You nod, taking another sip of the decaf tea, heart thundering in your chest.

“I-I’m sorry, I just need to take something. I’m very nervous and my heart-” He reaches across the table and grabs your hand, squeezing gently.

“You don’t need to explain it to me if you don’t want to. Do whatever you need to do to keep yourself healthy, okay? Your health and happiness... those are my top priority.” You swear if it wasn’t beating unbearably fast against your ribs it would melt.

You take your pills as discreetly as you can, but Bucky, being ever the gentleman, excused himself to the bathroom to give you space to do whatever you need to do.

~*~

“I uh... I pushed Steve out of the way when we were in a really bad fire. I saw the beam coming down and it would’ve killed him. So I pushed him out of the way and... took the damage instead. Doctors told me if I had waited a second longer it would’ve been too high up and would’ve got me right in the chest. Instead... it took my arm.”

You sit idling in Bucky’s truck in front of your apartment, the two of you talking for the past two hours.

“Oh James... I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head, smiling at you. “If it hadn’t happened then Steve wouldn’t be alive and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing I could’ve done something. Besides, Tommy thinks it’s pretty cool.” You nod at that, fingers tracing small patterns on his metal hand.

“I uh... When I was younger my mom was really careful with me. She wouldn’t let me do gym class... I could never go out with friends... nothing. One day we got into a nasty fight before I went to school. We called each other names and said awful things...

“I stopped on my way to school and bought an energy drink.” He stiffens beside you, eyes wide.

“I’d never even had caffeinated tea before, but I was so... so angry. I thought that... ‘whatever happens will teach her’. And I drank it. The whole can. I started feeling it halfway through class and when I raised my hand to tell my teacher... I just passed out. Collapsed right there in the middle of math class. They rushed me to the hospital and... I’ll never forget the fear I saw on my mom’s face. They said I almost killed myself. My heart couldn't handle the caffeine and I almost died. So from then on I just kinda... listened to my mom. Lived my life in the safe lane.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, eyes on your pretty face as you continue tracing patterns on his prosthetic.

“I’m glad you took a chance with me,” he whispers.

You look up at him, a shy smile on your face.

“I am too.”

His eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes, and you do the same, silently granting him permission.

He leans in, and before you have a moment to second-guess your decision, his warm lips are against yours.

You whimper, hand grabbing his wrist while the other finds his hair. He leans forward, lips moving against yours as if that is what they were made to do.

After a moment he pulls away, eyes wide.

“I-I’m sorry! I should’ve told you. I shouldn’t have done that. I-is your heart okay?” You giggle, pushing him back into his seat and climbing over until you’re seated comfortably on his lap.

“It's gonna take a little more than some kissing to stop me,” you whisper, bringing your lips back down onto his.

He kisses you with newfound passion, hands gripping your waist and pulling you tight against him. His tongue explores your mouth, dancing with your own and making you feel things you haven’t felt in... ever.

When you pull away to breathe he doesn't stop. No, his lips, teeth, and tongue work their way down your neck until you’re quivering on top of him, body desperate for more.

“Come upstairs,” you whisper, panting against his mouth.

He lets out a weak chuckle then sighs, shaking his head.

“I shouldn’t.” You pull away, giving him a confused look. “Why not?” His hands find your thighs beneath your dress and he rubs his thumbs in circles on the soft skin.

“I... I wanna take my time with you. I wanna take you out again and I wanna wine and dine you real nice. If we just get right to it... It doesn’t feel right.” You go to climb off his lap but he stops you.

“This feels right. I didn’t mean that this,” he motions to where you are,” doesn’t feel right. I just... you already deserve so much more than I can give you, and I wanna do everything I can to prove that I’m gonna take care of you. Believe me, I wanna come upstairs and fuck you until you can’t remember your goddamn name.” You shiver at his words and he chuckles, pulling your hips forward a bit. You gasp as you feel his hard length through his pants, pressing up against you.

“I fucking want you,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss to your neck. “You’ve got no idea how bad I want you. But you deserve to be taken out and treated like a queen.” He pulls away, flesh hand coming up and cupping your cheek.

“I like you, (Y/n). And I don’t wanna ruin things before they get good.” You rest your hands against his chest, fingers splayed on the warm skin beneath his shirt from where you’ve popped a few buttons open.

“I like you too, James. A lot more than I thought I would. And... if I’m being honest... that scares me.” He frowns, looking up at you and waiting for you to continue.

“I just... what if something happens to you?” His heart melts and he leans up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and then another.

“Don’t you worry about me, pretty girl. I’m not going anywhere. Not as long as I’ve got you willing to wait for me.” You grin, nodding and leaning down to press a kiss to his chest. Your lips linger long enough to feel the steady pulsing beneath the skin.

“I’m gonna be waiting for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Good.”

He walks you up to your apartment, hand held tightly in yours and a goofy smile on his face.

When you reach your door you feel sad that the night is coming to an end. Slowly you turn to him, eyes filled with things you want to say but can’t explain.

He simply chuckles softly, metal hand cupping your jaw gently.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” You ask softly, eyelids fluttering closed as he leans down. His lips find yours and you never want them to leave.

They fit so perfectly against yours, you could spend all of eternity kissing him.

Unfortunately, he pulls away after another fantastic moment.

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes on his as he slowly stands up to his full height.

“You can still wine and dine me even if you stay the night,” you whisper, already knowing what his answer will be.

He laughs quietly, shaking his head while smile lines fan out around his eyes.

“You, (Y/n), are gonna be the death of me. But god, what a way to go.” He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek then a lingering kiss to your knuckles before pulling away slowly.

“I’ll see you soon, babydoll. And I promise to text when I get home.” You nod, watching as he walks down the hallway. He shoots a glance over his shoulder when he reaches the elevator, a smile spreading on his face and red coating his cheeks as he sees you watching him.

Only once the door is closed do you unlock your apartment.

You hardly have time to step a foot in when you hear the door behind you open up.

“Next time you put on a show like that let me know so I can make popcorn.” You giggle, turning to Gladys and shaking your head.

“If we had known you’d be peeping on us we wouldn’t have done anything.” She shrugs, smiling at you. “It’s hard not to watch with a man like that standing there.” You roll your eyes at her.

“Goodnight, Gladys.” She’s already back in her apartment.

“So I’m assuming it went well?”

You nearly scream.

“Nat?! What the fuck!” She laughs, throwing her head back and letting out a good belly-laugh.

“You should’ve seen your face!” You glare at her, throwing your purse at her.

“Not funny! Why are you still here?” You kick off your shoes and groan as your toes finally have time to relax after being in heels all day.

“After last time I wanted to make sure nothing went wrong. But from the sounds of it I almost caught something scarring, didn’t I?” You shake your head, sighing and plopping down on the couch with her.

“He’s a fucking gentleman. For better or for worse.” She nods, hand slapping your knee.

“I told you. He’s gonna treat you right, Beans. I promise.”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 290: It’s Touya Time

Previously on BnHA: Iida and Hadou showed up like a couple of Pennsylvanias and Georgias to bail Shouto out at the last minute. Ochako and Toga had an exceptionally strange fight which consisted of Toga being all “guess what Ochako, I used your quirk to murder someone, how do you feel about that”, and Ochako being all “I do not like that”, to which Toga was all “:(”. There was some doll-stealing and some bookcase-yeeting, and then Toga left in tears because Ochako was all adamant that murder has consequences. Anyway so I have absolutely no idea what Toga is thinking now, but I guess we’ll have some time to stew on it, because we ended the chapter by cutting back to the Iida+Hadou+Shouto VS Afomura battle, which was interrupted by Gigantomachia and the LoV showing up like a bunch of Floridas to ruin everyone’s nice day.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi hands the mic over to Dabi and is all “take it away, kid.” Over in Room 315 of Musutafu General, Rei is all “may I please watch some TV” and the hospital staff is all “sure”, and so she tunes in just in time to catch Todoroki Touya’s Peabody Award-winning documentary “Number One Hero, Number One Fraud: The Todoroki Enji Story”, which is being broadcast nationwide courtesy of Skeptic and his magic laptop. Meanwhile in Jakku, Dabi is all “I’M TOUYA, BITCHES”, and Shouto and Enji are all, “(゜◇゜ )”, and Dabi is all, “anyway so just to sum it all up, because of how much of a jerk Endeavor was, I am now Evil.” Everyone continues to be all “(ﾟoﾟ)” except for Dabi, who is all “└(˘▾˘┌ )≡ ( ┐˘▾˘)┘≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛≡┏( ˘▾˘)┓≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛” for pretty much the rest of the chapter. Idk. Just let the man have his fun, guys. He’s waited a long time for this.

y’all I have a confession to make. I am technically not spoiled for this chapter thanks to my robustly paranoid system of spoiler-tag-filtering, which is extensive enough that it pretty much will catch whenever someone so much as breathes something even remotely new-chapter-related. that being said, I like to think that I am capable of making basic logical inferences! and so the fact that for the past 36 hours, my dashboard has pretty much nonstop consisted almost entirely of this...

...has led me to conclude that MAYBE, POSSIBLY, PROBABLY, BUT ALSO DEFINITELY, a certain someone is finally going to reveal his ~secret identity~ woop woop. lmao

anyway so everyone, please remember to act surprised though, as we would not want Dabi’s feelings to be hurt at all. he has been planning this moment for the last decade or so and I wouldn’t want him to feel like all of that effort was for naught. so just play along, okay. OH MY, IF IT ISN’T THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS’ MYSTERIOUS DABI. WHATEVER COULD HIS ARRIVAL POSSIBLY BE HERALDING, I JUST DON’T KNOW

“Dabi’s Dance” lmao. I’m sticking with Touya Time myself. ngl I had this recap title planned out for at least the past year or so. just waiting for that day to finally come

anyway so some people in some building somewhere are all “TURN OFF THE TV IN ROOM 315” and idk. I’m guessing the LoV is hacking the airwaves to livestream the reveal, as predicted

-- oh shit. UHHHHHHHH

did she always have this TV or did she get it just recently?? jfc of all the times for the hospital staff to finally loosen up

um... so that’s... (・＿・；)

well but I mean, she was gonna find out one way or the other at some point though. like you can’t really just keep her locked up and isolated from all news of the outside world forever and ever and ever. granted, this isn’t exactly the ideal way for her to learn this particular bit of information, but it’s not really ideal for anybody else either! EXCEPT DABI, THAT IS. have yourself a day you funky little terrorist

oh shit what is this?? it’s not live???

over in Jakku, a red-faced, sputtering Dabi makes a frantic grab for Skeptic’s laptop. “WAIT, NO, JESUS, NOT THAT TAPE!”

lol. but seriously Dabi are you even wearing a shirt. like I’m not one to slutshame anyone bro, but it’s just, exactly what type of mood were you looking to set here??

anyway so we really are cutting back to Jakku now, and Gigantomachia is all, “MASTERS”! which, I wonder if he really did use the plural? that’s right Machia, both of them in one place now! that sure is convenient for you huh

lol what is this with all this AFO monologuing. you’re really gonna make me read through this when I’m sitting here all sleep-deprived from election week. JUST GET TO THE TOUYAS. WE WERE PROMISED TOUYAS!!

sigh

“tee hee it’s fucking hilarious how goddamn powerful I am now lol”

alas, in spite of myself I do have two serious takeaways from this. one is that AFO is still controlling most of Tomura’s body behind the scenes, which both does and doesn’t bode well for Tomura (like, at least he’s not dying, but the long-term implications of this for his free will and such certainly are not Good). and two is that this confirms that Ujiko did give Tomura at least one powerful mutant quirk, which explains why he was still so deadly and indestructible even when Aizawa was using Erasure on him (since Erasure doesn’t work on mutant quirks, just emitter and transformation ones)

MEANWHILE ON TODAY’S EPISODE OF “TODOROKI SHOUTO’S TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD LIFE”

I like how he doesn’t actually say that he can’t take on Gigantomachia. just that he can’t take on him and Afomura at the same time. that’s confidence, baby. that right there is why you always draft Todoroki Shouto in the first round for your fantasy team

HADOU!!!!

OOOH, TOMURA’S ALL “MAN, THIS GIRL’S WAVE POWERS AND THIS KID’S ICE POWERS ARE A SUPER-STRONG COMBO DAGNABBIT.” YESSS I LIKE THAT, TELL ME MORE ABOUT HOW COOL AND POWERFUL THEY ARE

HOT DAMN LOOK AT THAT

um but not to take away from this exceptionally cool moment or anything, but why is Endeavor dying and shouting “RUN” down there in the corner um

oh

excuse me. not to take away from How Bad This All Is, but!!

just a little, smol, IidaBaku for everyone. Iida, who apparently doesn’t know a damn thing about first aid and is all, “hmm that’s a pretty bad-looking puncture wound he has in his left shoulder there, I think I’ll just let his arm dangle freely like that and I won’t bother taking off his heavy gauntlets either. I mean. he’ll be fine, probably.” smh. at least Shouto probably cauterized the wounds

EXCUSE ME WHAT

TIME FOR MORE OF THAT GOOD OLD FASHIONED SHOUNEN RIDICULOUSNESS I GUESS LMAO. KACCHAN YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO. THERE IS A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO, AND YOU LOST LIKE FOUR GALLONS OF BLOOD, BUT SURE. “PUT ME DOWN” HE SAYS. FIRST OF ALL, PUTTING ASIDE THE FACT THAT YOU ABSOLUTELY SHOULD NOT BE CONSCIOUS, THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN GOING TO DO, LIE DOWN AT THEM?? LISTEN, YOU SWEET IDIOT. TAKE HEED, BELOVED DUMBASS!!

ah well. I guess he gets to watch the Touya Show now too then lol

LMAOOOO now Machia’s lifting Tomura carefully in his palm like a broken action figure and Spinner is all “THE FUCK, YOU LOOK LIKE DEATH WARMED OVER”

“oh hey there Spinner. well let’s see, I woke up from my three-month coma and destroyed a city, had my body incinerated, and am currently being possessed by a diabolically evil potato. but please, tell me more about everything you've been through”

AW YISS AND THE FOCUS NOW SHIFTS TO THE TODOROKIS. EVERYTHING IS PROCEEDING EXACTLY AS WE HAVE FORESEEN

Endeavor my dude. it’s as if you want to die here. also holy shit, that bit about his lungs definitely does not bode well for him either

MOTHERFUCKER

GO AHEAD AND SIGN YOUR OWN DEATH CERTIFICATE, WHY DON’T YOU!! FLAGS UPON FLAGS. JESUS CHRIST

meanwhile Dabi’s just waving at ‘em

lmaoooo please oh please Caleb please keep this ‘EYYYYYYY’, it’s fucking perfect kdlshk;hg

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: so as you will see very shortly, I completely missed this detail in my first read-through because I was so anxious to get to the reveal page, but THIS MOTHERFUCKER LITERALLY DOUSED HIMSELF WITH INSTANT HAIR DYE REMOVER THAT HE’S JUST BEEN CARRYING AROUND IN A LITTLE HIP POUCH APPRENTLY SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIME. MOTHERFUCKER. I HAVE NO WORDS.)

IS THIS THE TIME. IS THIS THE MOMENT?! HERE IT COMES SLKFHS BRACE YERSELVES LADS

EYYYYYYYYYYYY

OKAY EVERYONE JUST LIKE WE PRACTICED!! SURPRISED FACES ON THREE! ONE... TWO... (•̪ o •̪) !! okay how was that

LMAO ENDEAVOR

at least Shouto looks properly stunned. Enji just looks like endeavor.exe just straight up stopped working

meanwhile Deku’s out here trying to do the math on this latest surprise family reveal! first Tomura is related to Nana, and now this. what’s next. who are you related to, Spinner. he rips off his boots to reveal engine legs and declares himself Iida’s long-lost uncle

oh shit Touya

it’s as if a million fanworks suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly jossed. who knew that all this time he was secretly sporting a crop top scar

also, THIRTY?! holy shit son you been busy

la la la two-page spread of Touya casually driving the dagger into Endeavor’s hero career and rocking the foundations of hero society as we know it la la la

la la la!!!

OH IS THAT THE END OF THE STORY THEN

almost got confused for a sec. there’s two monologues happening at once here. Endeavor doesn’t even know that his dirty laundry is being aired out nation-wide as we speak ffffff

btw while I appreciate the close-ups of Enji and Shouto here for sure, ngl I would also really love to see everyone else’s reactions right now. SHOW ME BAKUGOU AND THE LOV YOU COWARDS

is his hair actually turning white all of a sudden?? your hair dye just reacts on command??

(ETA: in all seriousness though, the hell kind of hair dye was he using? all he has to do is pour a bottle of that stuff and not even lather it in and it’s just gone just like that?? what the fuck would have have done if it ever rained lmao.

and this motherfucker just goes and leaves the dye remover in afterwards, too. I have never dyed my hair in my life and even I can tell you that’s probably not a good idea, Dabi.)

is this it. is this the legendary Dabi Dance in action. lmfao

oh hey what the fuck

so you figured you’d just murder your innocent younger brother to get revenge on dad, huh. well that’s nice

is that really all there is to the origin story though?? feels like we’re still missing a huge chunk of it. what was it that finally sent him over the edge? or was the trauma of being created as Endeavor’s perfect little hero tool and then being subsequently rejected by him enough on its own? because I’m still kind of confused on the part where he goes from “abused and discarded by his father” to “killed thirty people and was plotting the murder of his own brother” to tell you the truth

(ETA: lmao the initial fandom reaction to this did not disappoint. listen guys. people can be traumatized and shaped by awful circumstances that are completely out of their control, and grow up to be people they wouldn’t have grown up to be if things had been better, and all of that absolutely sucks, but. it doesn’t mean they get a get-out-of-jail-free card for all of their future actions, either! the tragedy of this situation is that terrible things happened to Touya, and he then went on to do terrible things himself. the tragedy of it is that this is exactly how the cycle of abuse keeps repeating itself on and on and on. maybe one of the people Dabi killed had a child who will now grow up traumatized themselves, and potentially go on to pay it forward themselves when they grow up. the tragedy is that the eye-for-an-eye justice that Touya is seeking out won’t actually make anything better in the end. the tragedy is that we understand why Touya is so angry, but that anger has basically warped him into the gleefully sadistic dancing figure we see in this chapter who has stopped caring about anyone else’s pain or suffering and just wants his own revenge.

anyway. basically what I’m trying to say is that it’s possible for the concepts of “Todoroki Touya was an innocent child and a victim of abuse” and “Dabi is a grown-ass motherfucking adult who killed thirty people and PROBABLY NEEDS TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR THAT” to coexist lol. like, y’all wanted your moral grey, well HERE YOU GO lmao, eat up.)

lol but LOOK AT THAT BOY DANCE HIS LITTLE HEART OUT though

Todoroki Touya confirmed not a fan of the Endeavor redemption arc huh. well we all saw this coming lols

anyways here’s a sexy Touya for y’all

you really are the most theatrical bitch I s2g lmao

also for real though, what is happening with his hair? anime team in shambles here. they’re probably just gonna double down and keep it red. too bad though cuz this is a surprisingly good look on him

SO MANY CLOSE-UPS OF THE TODOROKI FACES

friendly reminder that Dabi without a doubt REHEARSED this speech like a thousand fucking times. LET US FALL TOGETHER!! COME DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL. apparently if you fake your own death in middle school you will never mentally age past that point and will remain a permanent chuuni

OH LMAO THAT’S THE END

we really just gonna end on “DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL”, huh. very well then. you know what song to play, Horikoshi. one, two... YOU ARE MY DAD. YOU’RE MY DAD!! BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE

[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Lovedust pt.7 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: It’s the night of the party and Y/N is having seconds thoughts about going but her friend Kim convinces her to go and have fun. While things get more complicated with Peter, Y/N and Josh get closer at the party. 

Word Count: MF 7.7K ( This is my longest piece I-)

Author’s note: YALL HERE WE ARE! THE BIG OOPSIE DOOPSIE OF LOVEDUST! This is probably my favorite part that I have written so far- it’s fairly long but boy did my heart HURT. I would say we have about maybe 2-3 chapters left give or take and I’m so bummed the story is almost over :(. Thank you all for being incredibly kind, your support means so much I can’t thank you guys enough. ALSO hehe there’s a lil easter egg from the first chapter and the chapter with Y/N having a nightmare. If yall pay attention to some of the wording at the end...

Warnings: Underage drinking, adult language, angst, mentions of death

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || epilogue

You wanted it to be a normal night, one that in hindsight, would’ve worked out in your favor if you were normal to begin with. You weren’t the partying type or maybe, you just convinced yourself that it wasn’t the case since you were hardly invited to them to begin with. 

As if it made any sense, you felt eerily similar to Cinderella at this moment; even though she was one of the worst princesses in your opinion, you still sympathized with her story. The idea of wanting nothing more than to leave the confines of her dusty attic to dress pretty for a ball was something you could sadly relate to. 

While the Avengers complex was by far well above the average means, it was Cinderella longing for just one night away from her complicated life that made you see the story in a different light. 

But after years of wondering what it would be like to go to a real party (now that you were offered the chance to go) it wasn’t the way you dreamed it would be. As you stood in front of your closet, recalling the times you had put on outfits that you thought would be the perfect party attire just seemed like pieces of cloth, nothing more and nothing less. 

Because you didn’t care about the stupid party. You cared about Peter. 

You had put so much blame on him for everything; his feelings that he couldn’t control and his past which he apologized for multiple times. When you had the chance to fix everything, you were too scared to be vulnerable with him and admit that maybe you were falling for him. 

You weren’t a coward, you wanted to convince yourself that you could still move on and have fun without thinking of him but you felt almost embarrassed that you were feeling the opposite. 

“ I don’t want to go anymore. This isn’t right,” You sighed as you turned to your phone that was propped up against your dresser,” I can’t just leave him here while I go off to some party.”

You watched Kim through the facetime call as she put down her mascara to take a second to look at you,” Y/N, you have been talking about this party all week. Hell, I gave you that blue top that makes your boobs look great and you even said you couldn’t wait to wear it to the party!”

You only hummed in response as you moved aside the hangers in your closet to find the top that Kim had let you borrow. 

“ We mentally prepared for this, we watched Superbad and Booksmart in one night to get the full spectrum of high school parties and we even practiced how to play beer pong!”

“ That was on our phones, I’m sure it’s different in real life,” You sighed as you took off your shirt and slipped on Kim’s blue blouse,” I just feel awful about going to a party knowing Peter is just gonna be here all night.” 

“ Y/N, you deserve this party. You’ve worked your ass off for four years and I know how badly you wanted to go ever since we got uninvited to that one theatre party where Timothy Chalamete supposedly showed up to. I know you feel guilty about Peter and yeah, you kinda fucked things up, for now, but you deserve a goddamn break,” Kim practically yelled through the screen, doing her best to hype you up,” if you don’t go, you’re gonna regret it, you and I both know that. So just get dressed, do your hair all cute and shit, put on makeup or whatever you do and go have fun at this party with Josh.”

“ Fuck, Josh! I completely forgot about him, he’s supposed to pick me up in an hour!” You said as you suddenly felt a wave of nerves come over you,” what do I do about Josh? What if he tries to make a move on me tonight?”

“ Do you want him to make a move?”

“ I don’t know...not really but then again, I wouldn’t mind. Don’t hate me cause I know this sounds shitty, but maybe I need a distraction from Peter...is that awful?” You asked as you slipped off your pajama pants and rummaged through your dresser for jeans,” don’t answer that, I know that’s awful to say. Am I turning into a fuckboy?”

“ If you feel empathy than no, you’re not turning into a fuckboy,” Kim laughed as you found a pair of jeans to slip into,” look, I know how you feel about Peter and if you see yourself wanting to be with him than this thing you have with Josh won’t happen. At the same time, even if you do like Peter and you want to have fun with Josh for a night, you’re not a shitty person for wanting that. You’ve been through the wringer with Peter and to be honest, Josh is literally a goddamn angel so I don’t blame you for seeing him as an option. Either way, you’re hot, smart as fuck, and you are a fucking Stark; you don’t owe Peter or Josh anything so do what you want to do because you deserve it.” 

Kim was every protagonist’s wet dream; the side character who had more to offer every time and yet, she practically thrived off of hyping you up. You knew that she had a point, she always did. 

A part of you could tell which way she was leaning in terms of who you would go out with and yet, she only cared that you were making the right choice for yourself and your own happiness. 

“ You really are a ride or die friend,” You said honestly as Kim smiled back,” I’m going to get ready but I’ll see you there okay?” 

“ Will do girlfriend!”

Once the facetime call ended, you leaned back in your chair and stared at yourself in the mirror. 

You didn’t know what your intentions would be for the night and even though Kim had said you wouldn’t be a bad person if you had fun with Josh, you knew you would still feel shitty doing so, especially when you knew that you had strong feelings for Peter. 

As you fixed up your hair, all you could do was replay the conversation with Peter in the rain and how close you were to confessing everything. Looking back, you knew you were stupid for running away, if you really liked him than what was the problem of letting him know how you felt?

Because you knew once he was cured, he wouldn’t share the same feelings for you. 

In every sense of the lovedust, the way Peter felt about you wasn’t natural and yet, it was the lovedust that really made you like Peter back. 

You were just saving yourself from future heartbreak and given your past relationships, you had a reason to be hesitant in being that vulnerable with another guy. 

And yet, you still feel like you owed Peter an explanation. 

You got up from your seat and walked out of your bedroom, making a beeline towards his room. You were sure he was done with testing at this point but after knocking on his door a few times, there still wasn’t a response. 

You opened the bedroom door to find his room completely empty with everything neatly tucked in place as if he was cleaning up for a guest. 

The complex was big but you knew you would run into sometime before Josh showed up so you walked straight out and went to the elevators to make your way up to the labs. As you pressed the elevator button, you felt some unease sitting at the pit of your stomach. 

Something felt off, whether it be your natural woman inclination or just the fact that you were nervous to confront Peter. 

The elevator doors slid open and you walked in before you pressed the button to the designated floor like it was second nature.

Just breath, you’re fine, why are you freaking out?

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and once you pulled it out, you felt your heart skip a beat when you saw Josh’s contact name pop up. 

Josh: I just left my apartment! I’ll see you in 20 min!

Your stomach shifted once again as you replied back before stuffing your phone back into your front pocket. 

Twenty minutes. 

That was enough time to confess to Peter right? 

The elevator doors opened to the lab and you walked towards the main zone with a slow pace, as if the anticipation would suddenly make you feel less nervous. 

Once you rounded the corner to where your dad and Banner were usually working on Peter, you found the room to be completely empty besides for a few lab technicians who were working rather quickly. 

You took a moment to give one last look into the lab before going down the hallway to peek into the other glass rooms to try and find Peter. You had a feeling that maybe you should’ve checked the gym before coming all the way up to the labs but once you found yourself in front of the last room, you spotted your dad and Banner walking out with grim faces. 

“ Dad? Is everything okay?” You asked as their heads whipped around to turn to you,” have you two seen Peter anywhere?” 

You studied your dad’s face carefully but he gave no inclination of what the situation was, a talent he had grown accustomed to since he was your age. You gave up on your dad and watched Banner’s face, a face you always had a talent of reading easily. 

He kept his eye contact anywhere but towards your direction and the collar around his neck was wet, a sign that he was stressed out.

“ Banner, where’s Peter?” You asked again as you looked up at him before moving your eyes toward the room they had just walked out of,” is he in there?” 

“ He’s-”

“Resting. He’s had a day full of tests so we put him in one of the hospital beds just to keep an eye on him,” Your dad interrupted as you watched Banner gulp,” it’s not a big deal kiddo.”

Liar. 

“ Okay...well if it’s not a big deal than I’m gonna go check up on him to make sure he’s okay,” You said wearily as you tried to walk in between your dad and Banner but he took a step to block you. 

“ Y/N, he’s not feeling well-”

“ Why are you lying?” You asked as you looked back at Banner,” what are you two not telling me?”

Your dad kept up the charade and sighed as if he was annoyed,” Kiddo, he’s K.O’d for the night. You know, lots of tests and meds that’ll have him relaxed for a few hours. Maybe you should check up on him tomorrow.” 

You could tell he was trying so hard to keep up the lie and while your dad was a phenomenal liar, you were smart enough to see right through his act. 

All you could do was nod as you played coy,” Okay, that’s fine. Oh! I wanted to let you know I’m going to that party tonight so I won’t be home until later.”

As you were studying Tony, he was doing the same right back at you. It was like a game of chess; who would break first, who had the upper hand, and who was going to make the next move without disrupting their own game. 

“ Alright, just be safe than. Be back before eleven,” Tony said as he patted your shoulder and started walking with you back to the elevator, his hand almost leading you away from the door,” Remember; Beer before liquor, never been sicker.”

You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed to know what was wrong with Peter. 

You stopped in your tracks as you turned around to face your dad and Banner, who was still avoiding your gaze. You knew something was up, it was painfully obvious and you weren’t going to just turn over and accept defeat. 

“ Would you ever lie to me?” You asked as your dad inhaled sharply, immediately shaking his head without a second thought,” okay.” 

You peeked your eyes back to the door and before you knew it, you ducked under your dad’s arm and ran over to the room where you were sure they were hiding Peter away. 

“ Y/N, stop!” 

You ran even faster as you practically slid against the tiled floor before throwing open the door to find Peter in the hospital bed. A huge heart monitor was connected to the side that had immediately spiked when you entered the room. 

“ Y/N? What are you doing here?” Peter asked as he sat up in his bed as your eyes traveled to several IV’S that were attached to his forearm. 

The first thing you focused on was how pale he looked. Whatever the hospital gown couldn’t cover showed almost a ghostly touch to his usual lush color. Since the lovedust, he had always had a blushful expression, accessorized with flushed cheeks or red tinted ears but now, there was none of that. 

You could hear your dad and Banner behind you but before your dad could drag you back, you could hear Banner talking your dad out of it to ‘give the kids some time.’ 

You didn’t even bother saying thank you as the door shut behind you, leaving you and Peter alone in the room. You were almost scared to come closer to him, he didn’t look like himself at all. 

You looked towards the heart monitor again which caused Peter’s heart rate to spike up with the thought alone. 

“ Tell me what happened,” You finally said as you made your way over to sit on the edge of Peter’s bed,” it’s serious, isn’t it?” 

Peter swallowed nervously but shrugged like it was nothing,” Your dad was there before anything bad happened.”

You shook your head, you weren’t going to get any information out of him like this. You turned to the side of his hospital bed and picked up a clipboard with his medical information. Peter tried grabbing it out of your hands but you stared him down, as if to say ‘ don’t try me.’ 

Peter backed down as your eyes scanned the sheet carefully, trying to decipher all of the medical lingoes that were vaguely familiar from watching Grey’s Anatomy. 

You felt your breath hitch as you read over the same diagnosis. 

“ You had an acute heartattack because of me, didn’t you?” You finally said as you carefully placed the clipboard on the desk beside you,” because of our argument... and you weren’t going to tell me.” 

“ Y/N, there was no reason to worry you-”

“ You’re so stupid Peter, why wouldn’t I be worried for you? You think an acute heartattack is something as normal as a fucking cold?” You snapped as you watched his heart rate rise. You took a deep breath and ran your fingers through your hair to calm yourself down,” I’m killing you. Loving me is literally killing you Peter.”

Peter watched your gaze fall back to the IV’S while he kept his eyes on you the whole time. You looked absolutely defeated and he didn’t blame you. The way you stared at his arm made him feel like you were trying to somehow reverse the lovedust, as if you could take his pain away. 

And yet, what you didn’t know was that Tony had just come in minutes before you to announce that yes, you could actually take the pain away forever. 

“ What about you? Is it killing you?” Peter asked as you tore your eyes away from his IV’s and locked your gaze on him.

“ Seeing you like this? Of course it’s killing me, I’m not that cruel Parker.”

“ No,” Peter swallowed dryly,” is it killing you that you might love me?” 

Your first instinct was to laugh. What kind of sick joke was coming out his mouth? You tried to force any sound, anything that was a resemblance of something from English translation but your brain mentally stuttered. 

It was as if your mind and words went on pause to let your thoughts catch up to you. Were you really that easy to read or did Peter know you better than you know yourself? 

“ How do I answer that?” You asked quietly as Peter was quick with a reply. 

“ You answer it honestly.”

“ Oh, because you have been so honest with me?”

“ You haven’t been telling me the truth either. You’re a lot of things Y/N, but you’re not innocent.” 

“ Oh yeah? What am I then? Since you clearly know so much about me,” You replied to somehow detour the conversation. 

Peter gladly took the bait as he chuckled,” You’re stubborn. You’re the most stubborn girl I have ever met in my entire life and I love that about you. It makes things interesting knowing that you don’t roll over for anyone, even when you know you’re wrong.” 

You only hummed, he had a point. You had learned that from Tony and you weren’t ashamed about it one bit. 

“ Well, I love how foolishly selfless you are. You always put everyone else’s feelings before yours even when your health is at stake,” You said back as Peter’s smile faltered. 

Oh how spot on you were. 

Cause in this moment now, Peter was between a rock and a hard place. He had information that you didn’t have, information that would seemingly fix everything and yet, he didn’t want you to know. 

The cure for the lovedust. 

“ You’re keeping something from me, aren’t you?” You said after studying his expression for a moment as Peter released his bottom lip that he was holding in between his teeth nervously. 

Yes. 

“ I think you’re the one not being honest with your feelings,” Peter said as a matter of fact,” why won’t you admit it?”

You wanted to swallow your pride because damn it, you didn’t want a repeat of earlier. You didn’t want to chicken out but could you afford to be vulnerable again?

“ Peter...I don’t want to admit anything until you’re in the right state of mind,” You finally said, which was the most honest answer you could give,” after all, we both know what you’re feeling for me isn’t the same as how I feel for you...it’s a side effect of the dust.”

Peter only nodded, even though there was so much to say to you. Peter felt like he was in a slowburn novel, but damn, even at this point there had to be more to give right? If this was a story of two people who were meant to be together, then why the hell is it taking so long? 

If Peter could have it his way, he would rewrite it to where they could be happily ever after in the first chapter but sadly, this was real life and there wasn’t that kind of luxury. 

“You’re right, it’s not the same,” Peter said bitterly as his sympathetic smile faded,” just a side effect.” 

You both understood. As things stood now, it was more of a standstill than anything. A pause, a pitstop, anything to halt whatever momentum the two of you shared.  You felt absolutely broken that he admitted it, his “love” for you wouldn’t ever be the same as however, you felt about him in that moment. 

Just like that, you both knew you were doomed from the start.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and you already knew it was Josh. You inhaled deeply as you gave Peter’s hand a squeeze before rising from his bed,” I’m gonna go but if anything happens, call me okay?” 

“ Same goes for you. Be safe,” Peter said in almost a whisper as you nodded before turning to the door. 

You walked out of the room and leaned against the door for a moment collecting your thoughts. You ignored the gaze of Banner and your dad and seemingly walked through the two without batting an eye. 

Tony felt guilty knowing that you had caught him in a lie but he really thought he was doing his daughter a favor. Once he knew you were gone, Tony walked through the door to find Peter deep in thought. 

Tony shut the door behind him and walked over, taking a seat in the chair beside Peter’s bed. No one said anything for a moment but Peter was the one to break the silence first. 

“ I didn’t tell her about the cure. I don’t think she would even want to...” Peter admitted as Tony nodded. 

Tony crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, his mind wandering in every direction,” Good call. Thor said our time is fleeting so we need to make sure it works.” 

Peter shifted nervously in his spot,” You and Banner won’t stop finding a different cure though, right? Just in case?” 

“ Yeah, just in case.” 

                                                       -------

“ You look nervous,” Josh pointed out once the two of you pulled up into the driveway of Amber’s house,” did you want to wait a second before we walk in?” 

You shook your head as you tried to swallow any nerves that were building up in your throat. You couldn’t believe you were actually about to go to a party after everything that has been going on. 

“ No, I’m fine...It sounds stupid but I don’t really do parties so this is all kinda new,” You admitted as you took in another deep breath. 

“ It’s not stupid at all. If it makes you feel any better, I usually get pretty antsy before preforming but now that I know you’re going to watch me, I feel less nervous,” Josh smiled warmly as you started to feel your senses ease,” parties aren’t as scary as you think. Yeah, there are always a lot of people I don’t know but seeing a familiar face is always reassuring.” 

Josh had a way of calming you down that no other person could do so easily. You wondered if someone else had said the same thing to you like Kim or Peter and if it would have the same effect but maybe it was just exclusively Josh that had that sort of charm. 

“ Okay, I’m ready.”

The funny thing was, you really thought you were ready until you stepped into her house. The floor vibrated along to the beat of whatever song was blasting along the speakers and the smell of alcohol and weed felt almost suffocating. You were immediately overwhelmed with the amount of people already there and of course, you hardly recognized anyone from school. 

“ Here, hold on tight,” Josh intertwined his fingers with yours as he led you both through the crowd of teenagers almost too effortlessly. 

He led you outside and you thanked god the stage that was set up for his band was in the backyard. You walked along the poolside, following closely behind him before you felt someone splash you with water. 

“ Hey what- Kim!” You shouted excitedly as you let go of Josh’s hand to crouch down beside the pool to where Kim was swimming in just her bra and underwear,” you’re not even wearing a swimsuit? You dirty bitch.”

Kim laughed as she rested her hands against the edge of the pool,” Took you two long enough. Joshua, how are you this evening?” 

“ It’s going good Kimberly, I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” Josh teased back as Kim playfully rolled her eyes,” Y/N, I’m gonna check in with the guys real quick. Are you cool to stay here for a second?”

You nodded and shooed Josh with your hand,” Go, I’ll be fine.”

Josh gave you one last nod before jogging over to where his band was setting up. His bandmates had seen you walking over hand in hand with you and were now giving Josh hard pats on his back, as if to say ‘ nice job.’ 

“ He’s so respectful it physically hurts. Like I know the bar is so low for men but Josh checks every box. It’s annoying,” Kim sighed as you dragged a lawn chair from the grass and put it next to the edge of the pool to continue talking to your friend,” I would kill to be in your shoes right now. Oh to have two, brown-eyed guys fawn over me!” 

You couldn’t help but laugh as Kim dramatically placed her hand over her forehead and all you could do was shake your head,” Whatever, you didn’t even like Peter. You said so yourself he was a total douchebag.” 

“ Was a total douchebag and look, not that it’s any competition but I’m hashtag, team Peter. I’m a sucker for a good enemies to lovers trope,” Kim sighed as you felt your chest tighten up at her proclamation. 

You moved your eyes away from Kim as Josh came back over to you,” Did you want me to get you a drink?”

“ Thank goodness yes-”

“Y/N you should go with him,” Kim insisted as you turned to give her an odd look,” don’t get me wrong Joshua, I trust you but ya know, parties and alcohol and...men. Just to be extra safe.” 

You wanted to drown Kim on the spot for even insinuating that Josh would do something as terrible as spiking your drink but luckily, Josh gave a sincere nod. 

“ Of course, that’s not a problem. Men really are the worst,” Josh said casually as the two gave each other a little salute,” ready Y/N?”

Josh interlocked his hand with yours once again as he led you back into the house and through the kitchen as some people called out to greet him. 

“ Look at you Mr. Popular,” You teased as Josh squeezed your hand before opening up the fridge.

“ This is your first time drinking right?” Josh asked as you nodded, almost embarrassed,” Hey, that’s alright. You and I are gonna stick to the light stuff tonight, these taste better anyway.”

Josh pulled out three bottles of Mike’s Hard Lemonade and popped off the bottlecaps with a bottle opener before pouring it straight into two plastic cups. 

He tucked the third bottle underneath his arm as you watched him curiously. Josh caught you eyeing his actions as he handed you the cup carefully. 

“ Why not just drink it straight from the bottle?” You asked as you watched Josh take a sip,” I feel like we’re hurting the environment.” 

“ Looks cooler in a red solo cup,” Josh admitted bashfully as he clinked his cup with yours. 

You took a small sip, expecting it to burn like how it was always described in coming of age books but surprisingly, the fizzy taste of citrus wasn’t overpowering in any way. Josh raised his eyebrows and playfully nudged your shoulder,” See! It’s good, right? If you drink enough of these, I’m sure anyone could get tipsy but the goal of this party is to actually remember it the next day.”

There was just something about Josh that made you feel so much safer than anyone else. He didn’t tease you for never having gone to a party before or having alcohol; if anything he did his best to make sure you were as comfortable as possible. 

“ You’re being unreasonably cool, you know that right?” 

Josh smiled as he reached for your hand instinctively for the third time that night,” Only for you baby.” 

Smooth smooth Josh. Like putty in his hands, he led you back to the backyard but the whole time, you felt your heart practically melt at him calling you baby. 

Was it pathetic how easily you leaned into his touch? Maybe. 

But god, he really did make things harder for you. You had come into this party with your eyes on another guy and yet, Josh always managed to turn up the charm whenever necessary and you ate it up. 

Josh might be the charming, golden boy but you knew you couldn’t be too naive. Everyone had flaws, maybe Josh’s was that he was too nice and too friendly, or possibly him being a complete lightweight was the only thing holding him back in life. 

Lucky bastard. 

Once you made it to the backyard, you found Kim with a towel around her body, sitting on one of the lawn chairs. Josh walked over and whistled at Kim to look up from her phone, to which he handed her the bottle of Mike’s and she sounded a quick thanks in response. 

“ I’m gonna warm up with the guys. We’re only going to play a quick set but after, I’m all yours,” Josh promised as his cheeks started to get red at his own words but he turned back around at an attempt to hide his face. 

You took a seat next to Kim as you felt your heart practically skip a beat,” He’s really something isn’t he?”

“ Mm, he’s something alright,” Kim sighed as she struggled to open up the bottle,” dumb bitch, he didn’t bring a bottle opener or something?” 

“ It’s the thought that counts!” You said back as Kim popped the bottle cap using the metal part of the lawn chair.

As you listened to Josh’s band start their first song, you couldn’t help but feel guilty on how you were feeling. A part of you was holding on to the idea of you and Peter being a possibility but things were always so complicated with him. 

There was more to lose in being with Peter and it was painfully obvious that Josh made things so incredibly easy. You didn’t need to walk on eggshells when you were with him and sure, things were new and always changing but Josh could eventually be a person you could lean on. 

You reminded yourself that Peter “loved” you and that you did feel something for him that Josh couldn’t make you feel, but it wasn’t real love and that alone completely sobered you up from your moodiness,” Cheers Kim.” 

She watched as you drank whatever was left in your cup but Kim only ooo’d, knowing it wasn’t enough to get you drunk. 

You shook your head as you tried to think of anything but Peter. Tonight was your night to be free and you didn’t want to have to worry about who would be waiting for you once you got back home. 

And yet, deep down, you wondered why a part of you felt like it wasn’t right to hold Josh’s hand. Maybe because you knew you liked holding Peter’s more. Even as you looked up at Josh who stole a few glances your way, you silently prayed that it was Peter up on that stage instead. 

“ I can’t do this,” You said after a second of overthinking everything as you pulled your phone out of your pocket,” I need to text him.” 

“ Um fuck no! No drunk texts, that shit is so embarrassing Y/N!”

“ This is less than 5% alcohol, I am definitely not drunk Kim,” You mumbled as you slapped her hand away and pulled out your phone to text Peter,” I thought you were on team Peter?” 

Y/N: I need you

Y/N: *address*

Kim watched as you texted Peter but before you could send it, Kim leaped out of her seat and snatched the phone out of your hand,” I swear-! Yes, I am a new fan of team Peter, although Josh is getting major brownie points, but I have been a loyal member of team Y/N way before anyone else. I’m doing you a favor, what is texting him going to solve?” 

You pouted as Kim slipped your phone into her bag, unbeknownst to the both of you that the message had accidentally sent. 

“ Now get the hell up and lets dance bitch!”

                                                         ------

You and Kim had perfected your mental state to a tee; not drunk enough to trip over air and make complete fools of yourselves but tipsy enough to where even the slightest look at each other was enough to make you break out into a fit of laughter. 

You still ‘danced like people were watching’ but you managed to still let loose enough to where the music flowed so freely between your fingertips. 

“ Josh you guys were great!” You shouted as you pulled him into a surprise hug, which he happily accepted,” I think I’m officially your number one fan now.”

“ Wait in line,” Kim scoffed playfully as she grabbed her bag from the floor,” I’m gonna go get a cheese plate or something. Don’t do anything gross while I’m gone.” 

You shot her a prompt ‘ why would you say that’ with your eyes before turning back to face Josh. You weren’t sure where things would go next but he took your hand and led you to the other side of the backyard to a wooden bench, claiming that he just wanted to rest a bit after singing for so long. 

The bench was small enough to where your thigh was against his but you didn’t mind the contact. 

“ Thanks for coming out by the way. I know these type of things are pretty overwhelming but I’ve been having fun so far. How about you?” Josh asked as you exhaled deeply. 

“ I’m glad I came...thank you again for convincing me to come out here. I feel like there’s been a lot of stuff going on at home and it’s kind of nice being a normal teenager for once,” You said honestly as Josh rolled his shoulders back. 

You could feel how nervous he was next to you but for the most part, he didn’t really show it from his facial expression. 

“ Can I ask you something?” 

You nodded, trying your best to be as cool as possible but all you could think about was how dry your mouth felt. 

Oh fuck, the million-dollar question was finally here, wasn’t it? Was he going to reveal his feelings? What if he was going to make a move?

“ Is there something going on between you and Peter? The other day when I came over, it felt...intense. I didn’t want to overstep by coming over or anything,” Josh hesitated as he tested the waters. 

Oh. 

Well fuck, that question was just as nerve-wracking as the others. You wanted to be as honest with Josh as possible but at the same time, you didn’t want to ruin any chances you had of possibly having him around if Peter didn’t work out. 

You knew that was such a shitty mindset but Josh had a way of making you feel so comfortable and you weren’t willing to let that go. 

“ I thought I had something with him but it’s complicated,” You answered honestly,” you saw him, he’s...sick and I feel like the sickness is making him feel things that aren’t actually there. I don’t know, it’s so weird to explain.” 

Josh bit his bottom lip nervously as he hung onto your every word,” So his feelings for you aren’t there like he thinks it is?” 

God, it sounded so simple the way Josh said it when it was so much worst in reality. Of course, it would be way easier to tell Josh everything from the toxic relationship you and Peter had to how the lovedust was emotionally and physically a toll on both of you. 

For obvious reason, you could never reveal that much to him. 

“ Yeah, exactly that,” You sighed, sounding a bit too disappointed and Josh had caught the shift in your voice,” feelings are always so complicated.”

“ Not all the time,” Josh said quickly as he caught himself,” I mean, liking someone doesn’t have to be complicated. Sometimes it’s really easy because love shouldn’t hurt, you know?” 

You only nodded because you could tell Josh had more to say. He took this opportunity to shift his body to fully face you and you scooted your back against the armrest so you could show him that you were attentive. 

“ I mean, when I like someone, all I think about is how much I like being around them. Everything else kind of just falls away and it feels all warm like how the books describe it,” Josh could feel a blush creep onto his cheeks yet again but he knew there was no point in covering it up now,” it’s a cliche but I think when you have a crush on someone, everything just falls into place... And I feel that when I’m with...you.”

Your heart practically drew closer to him because what is going on, this was different. Even though Peter had generally been saying the same things to you for days on end, this was more. 

There wasn’t some magic space dust that was making Josh confess his feelings, it was just pure humanistic drive to step out of one’s comfort zone that had tugged on Josh harder than ever before. 

As if time had slowed down, you watched closely as Josh placed his hand onto your knee before leaning in, getting dangerously close to your lips. Josh stopped only a mere centimeter before your lips touched, as if to give you a chance to back away and yet, you stood still. 

You were trying to make sense of what your heart and your gut were telling you but you thought back to Peter admitting to you that the love he felt for you was a side effect of the lovedust, nothing more and nothing less. 

Peter would never like you back. 

That’s what pushed you over the edge and so, you closed the gap between you and Josh as you kissed him back. You could feel Josh smiling against your lips but the pure sensation of the kiss didn’t last. 

Kim had witnessed everything in slow motion. The text from Peter, indicating that he had entered and was heading to the backyard to watching Josh lean in to kiss you. It was like a sick hypothetical they always asked in ethics classes when presenting the Trolley Dilemma and yet, she barely had enough time to make a decision. 

All she could do was shout but it was a little too late. Peter saw everything. 

He saw you close the space between your lips and Josh’s. He saw Josh smile against your lips. He saw you pull away before leaning in for more. 

Peter knew what was coming next, he practically braced for the pain that he knew was coming because just earlier the same day, he had a miniature version of it. But he never expected the pain to be this unbearable. 

His ribs felt like someone had just swung a bat into the center of his chest and he could feel every bone splitting into various small fragments that were too small to ever glue back together. Each little fragment of whatever was left had seemingly pierced his heart in a thousand different places as more and more pressure starting to build in his chest. 

He couldn’t even let out a cry for help, not even a whimper because no air could come in through his mouth. 

The fear alone made his chest tighten up to the point where he felt his lungs almost give in from inside of him. His vision was the next to get blotched out with a violent array of reds and oranges, moving at a fast kaleidoscopic rhythm that sent Peter deeper into a panic.

The last to give was his legs; the dizziness from the complete distortion had made his knees buckle from the pain, sending him straight into the pool. 

You heard Kim cry out first as she pushed her way through a crowd that was blocking the door. You moved away from Josh to find the commotion and even though you couldn't see who fell into the water, you knew deep down who it was. 

You ran over to the edge of the pool and without a second thought, you dived into the water. Josh quickly followed behind you; it took him only a second to kick off his shoes before he jumped in after you. 

What scared you the most was how eerily quiet it was underwater. You could hear some muffled shouts but that’s not what was so quiet. His body was motionless in the water, there was no sign of struggling or thrashing or convulsing like how it was in the movies. 

Everything just felt slow as you desperately reached your arms out to swim faster to him. You only had one focus once you wrapped your arms across his chest and kicked up to the surface. In your mind, you were already going through how you would start compressions on him once you reached the top. 

You were panicked and scared but you knew you had to pull yourself together, pushing away any thoughts of how far gone Peter could be. 

You broke the surface with Peter in your arms as you called out to someone, anyone to take him from your arms. Kim and one of Josh’s bandmates helped lift Peter’s lifeless body onto the concrete as Kim quickly called 9-1-1. 

Her hands were shaking as she tried to press the three buttons and after an eternity, they picked up the phone. 

You scrambled up from the pool and hovered over Peter’s body and without a second thought, you started doing CPR. 

For a moment, that’s all you were thinking. Like a machine, over and over again on an endless cycle, chest compressions, open his airway, give rescue breaths. When you found yourself thinking about how panicked everyone else was and how pale Peter looked underneath you, you continued to give compressions until you felt like your arms would snap from the pressure. 

You don’t know how much time has passed but enough to where there would’ve been a sign by now. You sobbed for Peter and kept calling out to him, your voice shaking like a child, the same child who lost her parents all those years ago. The same child who held that heavy towel, pressing it against her fathers chest to stop the bleeding- no. 

You couldn’t think about that, this was different. You could save him. You kept reminding yourself over and over as you did a round of chest compressions, opened his airway, and gave more rescue breaths. Over and over. Non-stop. 

Again and again without hesitation. 

At this point, you couldn't stop your mind from thinking of Peter and the possibility of him actually dead. How long was he under? What had happened before? He must’ve seen the kiss- oh my god you killed him. 

You can feel it, building up inside of you like an unstoppable path set ablaze like pure lava. 

You thought about never hearing his laugh again, the one where he would grip his sides so hard, he would wheeze like an old dog toy. Chest compressions. Airway. Rescue breaths. 

You thought about him never calling out your name, whether it was followed by an insult or a loving comment about how you made him feel. Chest compressions. Airway. Rescue breaths. 

You thought about never touching him again, his strong arms holding your shaking body when you had that awful nightmare or how perfect his hand fit in yours when you two walked together in the rain. Chest compressions. Airway. Rescue breaths. 

You thought about never telling him how you actually felt, how stupid you were forever letting him get away because it was him all along. Chest compressions. Airway. Rescue breaths. 

It was always him. 

You were in love with Peter. 

And suddenly, almost finally, Peter jolted up and coughed up the water from his lungs. 

You stopped the compressions and held your own breath as Peter continued to cough up more water, his eyes squeezed shut. 

“ Peter? Can you hear me?” You called out between your choked cries as you snapped your fingers close to his ear.

After a moment, an agonizing moment, Peter nodded, as everyone else collectively let out the breath they didn’t know they were holding. Peter opened his eyes slowly, taking in everything like it was his first time seeing the world. 

“ Oh thank god, don’t worry, help is coming. Stay awake for me, okay?” You sighed in relief as you tucked a strand of wet hair behind your ear,” I’m so glad you’re okay.” 

When his eyes lock onto yours, he feels an odd sense of deja vu that he can’t explain. His chest isn’t tight anymore, his hands don’t feel as clammy as before, his mind feels almost cleared. 

He focused on your eyes while everything else drowned out around him. Your pupils, they’re big and they’re filled with a heavy deal of worry but there’s something else. Your eyes, he’s looked into them so many times before but why is it different? 

As shaken up as you are, you manage to cup his face carefully to console him, or more so yourself. Your hands are shaking but they’re warm against his cheek and he can’t help but reach his hand to lay across the hand that’s cupping his face. 

Peter feels his face flush, but this time it’s different, it’s...euphoric? Peter wasn’t even sure if he was saying the word correctly but that’s how he felt. 

Your eyes, he’s so enamored by the way you’re looking at him. You were worried of course, but no, there was something else. 

“ You’re safe Peter, you’re okay.” 

“ Don’t worry I got you.”

“ Just breath for me, okay?” 

There it was, the same deja vu. You had said that to him before, or maybe he had said it to you before through broken sobs when you had the nightmare. 

Peter’s breath hitched as it all finally hit him, he figured it out just by holding your deep gaze. 

Oh my god.

The lovedust had worn off, it was gone. All the anxiety and nerves from having it in his system had disappeared, evaporated off of him almost. The chest pains and the shortness of breath had gone away but Peter still felt something pulling, tugging at his heartstrings. 

The lovedust was gone, he knew that well enough.

 The only thing he could feel as he stared back at you was a pure, undivided, longing for you. 

That’s right, Peter Parker was still hopelessly in love with you, no lovedust required.

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[darkacademicfrom2021]

Away. So, so far away.

<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>>

Word count: 2K

Warnings: bullet wounds, hospital, swearing.

3

Oh darling, please believe me

I’ll never do you no harm… 

The music reverberated through the whole floor. You danced around, and Bucky was the only one that joined you, if not a little shyly. Tony sat on the couch flipping through some news and sighed as he asked you to change to a better music.

“Nothing is better than The Beatles, Stark”, you said in between laughs, and Bucky flipped you in the air. His strength almost matched Loki’s, and you weren’t afraid of him dropping you to the floor.

Believe me when I tell you,

I’ll never do you no harm.

“Uh, I beg to differ”, he raised an eyebrow, still with his eyes on his current research. “By the way, are you coming to the next mission?”.

“I’ll ask Loki. I told him he could join me”.

“Well?”, he inquired, pointing with his head at the door from your room. You didn’t know if you wanted to say it out loud. The common room had not only Tony, but also Bucky, Steve and Clint. You sighed. "He's sleeping".

"Liar. You wouldn't be here".

“Okay. He’s out now”.

“Where? It’s four in the morning”, he laughed, and then dropped his news to look at you with concern, realizing. “Oh”.

“No, it’s not… it’s not what you think. He goes on walks to keep his mind busy”, you lied.

“Sure. At four in the morning”.

Oh darling, if you leave me,

I’ll never make it alone.

“Yes, we don’t question his ways, okay? He’s been feeling bad”, you defended him, and turned the music higher. With a hand gesture, you invited Steve to dance with you. He chuckled and accepted it.

Truth was, you had no idea where Loki was now. He kissed you goodnight when he thought you were asleep, muttered something along the lines of I’m sorry, I’ll get this fixed, and left around midnight. He should have been in bed by now, and you couldn’t call him or check on him in any way. Not without compromising the secretism, anyway.

And you were upset. You were so, so upset, because you’ve had fights about this for the past week, and still he thought it best to just do as he pleased when you were supposedly asleep. You were so, so upset. But concerned at best, because he never told you what his plan was about. He had no regard for his safety. He could be getting injured, at best. He could be getting killed under the hands of the Mad Titan or whoever huge predecessor of Layfey that would be guarding the throne. He could be getting hurt and killed and in pain and he blocked you out so you could do nothing about it.

So you danced. You drank coffee to keep you awake until he came home, and moved your hips to the rhythm of the music. Trying to forget the matter for a while.

Believe me when I beg you,

Don’t ever leave me alone.

“Hey”, called Thor, walking in with the pillow marks on his face. “Turn down that thing, it’s too late”, he asked. “Oh, you’re here. Where is my brother? Sleeping?”.

“On a long and weird walk”, said Clint without looking away from Steve’s awful dance moves. He was getting ready to pull off his phone and become famous on tiktok. You spinned under Steve’s old-fashioned steps.

“Walk? At these hours?”, he laughed. “My brother doesn’t do that”.

“Yes, he does”, you said nonchalantly, trying to hide your unease. Maybe you should’ve stayed in your room. That way, your loneliness in the late night wouldn’t be too evident.

You had grabbed Loki by the wrist before he left. He knew he didn’t leave you sleeping—you asked him to stay. You told him there was nothing he could do about it anymore. He murmured he could and he would, and the mere thought of being able to fix it all kept him up at night anyway, so he might as well go and get it.

You told him if he loved you he would stay. He told you he was doing this because he loved you. He told you it was the —only— way to keep both of you safe and together. You thought he was wrong, and that thought remained there, eating your brains alive, while you tried to dance it out. A knot in your throat kept you from talking any further.

When you told me you didn't need me anymore,

Well you know I nearly broke down and cried.

When you told me you didn't need me anymore,

Well you know I nearly broke down and died.

“Where is Loki?”, asked Thor once again, coming out of his room when the sun had already setted widely on the sky. No rain, a clear day, perfect for flying. The mission would start in the next three hours, and you were still waiting.

“Look, I really need to get a confirmation on whether I’m having you on the mission or not”, said Tony, losing his patience. “He’ll come back at some point, but you don’t need to worry about him. He’s a God on Earth. What would happen? He’d get mugged and stab the damn robber?”, he joked, and you pretended to laugh.

“You’re right. I’m going, count me in”.

Where was he, now?

Something was for sure, he was away.

And a week had passed. A whole week with its seven days, and you've received no notice whatsoever of your lover.

Thor seemed to know, yet he couldn't bring himself to say anything. He said it wasn't his place. He said he didn't know what Loki was thinking about. He said he didn't want to misinterpret his messages. He said a lot of things and none of them were comforting. None of them fulfilled your need to know —where is he, is he well, is he traveling, is he locked up, is he dead, is he with someone else, is he ever coming back, is he even trying to communicate—what's going on?

In the quinjet, you looked down the window. Bucky and Thor were in front of you, and Tony by your side, explaining the steps of the next mission. You weren't listening much. Just nodded. You knew those things never went as planned —having plans would usually get worse outcomes, from your experience. Plans wouldn't work.

You had one small plan; climb a mountain. You were going to a marvelous place, and you always wanted to climb them. It was completely possible you could get a few hours off, if not half a day to go and get it. You'd maybe convince your teammates.

Whatever you could do to keep your mind away from Loki's suicidal mission, whatever that may be.

"Buckle up, fellas", said Tony, getting into his suit already. "There's fighting to get through right now. We'll have to do the brainy part after".

And just like that, Thor with Mjölnir in hand, Bucky ripping off his sleeve and you getting your boots adjusted, jumped off the quinjet and landed on soft grass.

There weren't many people you had to fight. They were just very strong. You held your grip to Tony's suit as he flew with you all around the forest.

The rest… you might know how it goes. As it always does. You’re too reckless—words from everyone on the team, all the time—and you jumped off too quickly to catch Bucky’s bullet.

“Are you OUT OF YOUR MIND?”, yelled Bucky as he approached you. He applied pressure on the bullet wound and you gasped for your dear air as you felt a little dizzier and dizzier.

“You were about to get shot!”, you justified.

“I’m a supersoldier, you fucking idiot”.

“Do I look like I make rational decisions on the run?”.

“Here, as you lay on the floor bleeding out from an unnecessary bullet wound that would’ve been a fucking scratch on me? Yeah, no shit, you make great decisions on the run”.

“I thought you were shy to talk”.

“No, I just keep my mouth shut because people aren’t so stupid for me to talk back to them, but you just…”.

“Agh!”, you contorted in pain and then James decided to stop bitching about how you saved him from the hit—when he so clearly wanted to get shot instead—why would he care so much? “Could you… take me to the quinjet? There’s gotta be like a first aid kit in there or something”.

“What? You gonna put a bandaid over the bullet and call it a day? Come on, I’m taking you to the medbay”.

“No way, Buck. They’ll get me to a hospital for the day and won’t let me participate on the mission. Come on, just patch me up a little and don’t say anything”.

James rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“No”.

He took you to the medbay, and, as you predicted, you spent the night in the hospital. The whole night, and woke up the next morning in that same goddamn white bed with white sheets, surrounded by white walls and white everything. Except a dusted friend, who had been holding your hand the whole time.

Bucky, scratched from head to toe and very clearly lacking a shower and a good night of sleep, didn’t let go of your hand even when you woke up. And damn you who were only thinking about how that should be Loki by your side.

“Hey, morning sleepy head”.

“What are you doing here? You should be on the mission”, you reproached him with a smile. “Not here, being a good friend and all”.

“I wanted a day off work”.

You laughed. He seemed too tired to even move.

“Thanks”, you sighed, and looking out of the window, heard the door opening and Tony Stark walking in. “Oh, sorry boss”.

“Call me boss again and you’re fired”, he said, sitting on the foot of your bed. “You reckless, irresponsible idiot. You should be fired for this alone. You’re a danger to the team and especially to yourself”.

“Come on. I defended a member of the team”.

“You jumped in front of a supersoldier about to get a fucking mosquito bite out of a bullet, that's what you fucking did”.

“The spirit is what counts, after all?”, you tried, and he laughed shortly, only to come back with a meaner expression.

“Hell no”.

“At least I can go back to work today, right?”, you tried. Tony just laughed—that bastard. Fucking asshole. And where was Thor? Was he with his brother? No that he’d say anything.

Wow. Painkillers made you bitchy.

“We’re both taking the day to get you recovered, and Stark and Thor will handle the mission. Tomorrow you get back if you’re well rested and in enough shape, alright?”, explained Bucky with a softness that almost made you vomit. He was sugarcoating it—surrounding it with nice-sounding words and a soft-spoken voice.

“No way I came all the way here to not do shit and let you do all of the things I’m supposed to do”.

“We could climb that mountain you wanted to”, he tried, and then you were out of words. You thought about it for a few seconds.

“Okay”.

“Are you crazy? They’s got stitches. They can’t make efforts. Bed rest”, fought Tony. Bucky winked at you.

“That’s why I’m going with them. I’m gonna make sure they don’t get any worse, alright?”.

“Make sure they gets better”.

“Consider it done, chief”.

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