#(the whole I Just Need To Get Through This Week mindset that plagues me)

[transmechanicus]

Ongoing/very recent apocalypse story where the protagonist only ends up finally leaving their house because they’re on a quest to get their package which is stranded one postal stop away, and all their interactions with people are singlemindedly in service to this goal.

[rayslittlekitten]

You Got This - Part 2

I recommend reading Part 1 first if you haven't.

Plot: After having a heart to heart, you and Jax re-live your youth.

Pairing: Jax Teller x F! Reader

Contains: a lot of fluff and fluffy sex, also a shit ton of Jax smoking porn, and you see his butt 🙃

A/N:  Thank you Anon for this request.  I hope you and the other readers enjoy this (if not more) than the first part. This took me longer than I expected to write this, but it's finally done.  I kept going back and forth on trying to decide what to include and what not to.  Also, had I known I was going to be writing a part two for this, the beginning of this would have been at the end of part one, but hindsight is 20/20. I actually did already write out most of the beginning but decided to leave it out of part one because I thought where I left it was a good place to end it. I also thought about eliminating it completely but I really like the interaction that happens with Gemma.  To me it's like a beauty shot. Is it necessary and does it move the story along at all? Not quite, but it looks good so let's just leave it in there anyways. Also to squeeze a little bit more angst out of Jax.

Also, I had a bit of trouble writing this as well because as strange as this sounds, I couldn't find the perfect song to pair with this.  Sometimes I need music to help me get into the mindset and mood.  I was going for like a nostalgic summer love kinda thing. I had actually thought to use a song form the mid-90s because to really make it feel nostalgic and Shanice's "Saving Forever For You" was the winner for that but I decided it was not right for this. Maybe their actual first time, yes.  Then it was a toss up between "Honey Whiskey" by Satica and "Take Me Away" by Sinead Harnett/EARTHGANG and the latter won given the situation. I'd recommend giving it a listen below (or any of the songs listed) to get the mood I was going for while writing the sex scene. I really thank you for reading my ramblings if you've gotten this far. I just want to give the readers the best experience to my stories and how it was intended when I wrote it.

A loud commotion outside interrupts the moment and you both realize you need to get dressed before someone finds the both of you.  He pulls out of you and you both quickly get yourselves together. You hop into the bathroom inside the bedroom to clean yourself up. When you walk out, you see Jax sitting on the bed smoking a cigarette with all his clothes and hair in place, like he had been sitting there this whole time and didn't move from his spot when you first walked in.  He glances over to you and you're reminded of how his handsome charming face is something you miss so much.

"I should probably go before someone starts looking for either of us." You walk out of the bathroom and towards the front door.  Jax grabs your hand and pulls you back to him.

"Hey." He stands up, cups your face and looks at you. "It's really good to see you again."

Suddenly you both hear the door knob rattling and then a knock following it.

"Jax, are you in there, honey?" You both hear Gemma on the other side of the door. 

You both separate and smooth yourselves out and Jax walks over to open the door. 

"Honey, what are you doing in here? Tara--" Gemma's facial expression shifts when she spots you. She looks at the both of you suspiciously. You both thought you were so slick when you were younger but if there was anyone who knew what you both were up to, it would be Gemma. Nothing slips past her. In fact, she’s always secretly hoped you two would get together. You were born into SAMCRO, making you MC royalty. The Princess of Charming.

"Oh, I didn't know you were in here too. I'm very sorry about Opie, sweetheart." 

"Thank you, Gemma." You walk closer to the door and Gemma pulls you in for a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Where's your fiancé?" Gemma asks curiously.

"Fiancé?" Jax glances over at you.

"I came by myself this time," you answer. "We're kind of on a break." You wrinkle your nose.

"I'm sorry to hear that too. Must be one hell of a break." Gemma's knowing eyes are boring a hole into you. "Lyla tells me you're staying a while?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna help her out with the kids for a week or so until she can figure it out.  I know you and the club will be a big help, but with everything going on, I think her and the kids can use another familiar face."

"Family is important and I'm very happy to see you here." Gemma's eyes shift to Jax with the same knowing look she gave you. "Well, whenever you're ready, Tara's looking for you."

"Thanks, mom." Jax runs his hand over the top of his hair. Gemma glances at you both again once more before she walks away.

You start making your way out the door when Jax pulls you back in.

"You're engaged?" Jax asks with wide eyes.

"Was," you reply. 

"Was it to that pretentious English prick you brought back with you last time?" Jax snarls.

"Ray is a good guy and he treats me really well. We're just going through a bit of a rough patch right now," you tell him. "Also, the last I heard, you're married with two children, Teller."

Jax just looks at you, knowing he has no right to be upset about you being with another man.

"And I believe your wife is looking for you," you say before walking away from him as you see your nephews and niece running up to you. "Hey guys!"

Jax takes a drag of his cigarette while he continues watching you as you kneel down to greet the kids.

A few days later...

The sun is beginning to set and Jax is at the clubhouse. Most of the people have already left. He needs some quiet and alone time after spending a few days earlier in the week not just watching his best friend get killed, but also saying goodbye and laying him to rest. He climbs up the ladder onto the roof of the clubhouse, one of his favorite places to think and reflect quietly while smoking.  What he didn't expect to find is someone else had beat him to the spot.

"I didn't know you were here," Jax says as he walks over and sits next to them. "You've been avoiding me like the plague all week."

"I miss watching the sunset," you reply without looking at him.

"The sun doesn't set where you are?" Jax asks as he lights up a joint.

"It's not the same."

Jax takes a long drag and then offers it to you. 

You look at it for a moment and form a small smile before taking it from him.  The roof was also a place you both frequented in your youth to smoke pot, away from your parents and the adults. Eventually they figured out your secret spot, but it didn't stop you guys from coming back. You take a pull and hand it back to him.

"I also miss this.  There is nothing like California-grown weed."

Jax takes a hit and blows out the smoke from the corner of his mouth.

"Do you ever miss me?" Jax looks over at you and passes the joint back to you.

You look over to him and squint an eye to prevent the sun from blinding you.

"Yeah, sometimes I do."

"Does your English weed taste like fucking tea and crumpets?" Jax jokes.

"Oh, I get the best shit there is over there. Trust me." You chuckle. "But... it's not home."

"So why don't you come home?" Jax looks back at you with the same squinty face.

You look at him for a moment deciding what you want to say. "You know, that's the reason why Ray and I put the engagement on hold. With everything happening here, I wanted to be closer to family. Figure my shit out." You take another drag and return the joint back to him.

"There's more than family that would love to see you back home too." Jax reaches for your hand and squeezes it.

"Jackson, what happened the other day, we both acted out of impulse. We were both just... vulnerable.  I'm sorry if it gave the wrong impression."

Jax shakes his head, then takes another long pull of the joint. “Ope was like my moral compass, kept me grounded and always pointed me in the right direction, and now he's gone, because of me."

"Jackson, you can't--" You start shaking your head.

"You’re the closest thing I have left of Ope. I need you." Jax holds your hand.

"Jackson, in your heart, you always knew what was best. You don't need me." You push a loose chunk of his blonde hair away from his face and tuck it behind his ear.  "I know you're hurting, but I can't fill the void that Opie left. Nothing ever will. Just focus on what's important to you and you'll figure it out.  You always did." You smile at him while caressing his cheek with your thumb. "You got this." He closes his eyes and leans in to your hand, soaking in your touch.

"You still have too much faith me." He turns his head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand.

"Yeah, maybe. Besides, our boat sailed a long time ago," you add, pulling your hands away from him and looking away. Jax takes the last drag of the joint and tosses it off the roof.

"Maybe that boat can make one last stop before sailing away for good?" Jax gently grabs your chin and turns your head to him to look into his slightly droopy eyes.

Even all this time, it's still hard to not get lost in his baby blues. It's even harder with the perfect setting: the firey orange sky, the slight California breeze, the clubhouse rooftop. Maybe it's the weed, but it feels perfect in the moment. It's all taking you back to the summer when you were 14, when the only care in your worlds were right in front of each other. It's also the perfect setting for cruising around. Jax use to "borrow" one of the bikes from the clubhouse and take you on joyrides, basking in the sun while the wind hits your faces.

He slowly leans into you, and you close the distance, pressing your lips against his. Jax immediately responds and kisses back, his tongue slipping between your teeth. You can taste whiskey mixed with a faint linger of cigarettes and marijuana. Jax cradles your neck and pulls you in closer to him.

The loud roar of a motorcycle driving by and backfiring breaks you up.  You both are brought back to reality that you are both still on a rooftop and a bit baked.

"Come on, let's get inside." Jax jerks his head towards the latch.  Jax helps you down the ladder first and he follows behind.  He quickly makes a sweep and doesn't see anyone except for a few guys at the bar with their back turned towards the both of you.  Jax grabs your hand and leads you back into the spare bedroom you both were in earlier in the week. This definitely feels like you both are hormone-driven teenagers again, sneaking around the clubhouse. 

Once Jax closes and locks the door, he turns his attention back to you but he stops in his tracks to really look at you. All of you. He never thought he'd ever be with you or see you like this again.  What happened the other day was different.  Like you said, it was a moment of weakness, an impulsive move on both of you because of shared pain.

This time, there is no urgency, there is no hurt, just the two of you re-living a moment the two of you wish you had the opportunity to experience over and over again. This time it's intentionally and purely for the most selfish reasons. He walks over to you and presses his lips onto yours, taking his time to actually taste and feel your soft lips on his.  He pulls you in close to his body as his hands explore yours.

As the both of you continue to deliberately and slowly make out, Jax grabs your ass and presses himself against you, feeling his erection through your clothes. Jax pushes you backward towards the bed and you fall back when you feel the edge hit the back of your knees. He falls on top of you and expertly starts disrobing you while making out with you.  In one quick swift, Jax pulls your shirt over your head, leaving you in a satin black bra.  He takes his time with you, starting with his lips on your neck, licking and kissing it, even nibbling at it.  He's always wanted to leave a hickey on you, letting all the guys know you're taken. He then makes his way down to your collar bone, the top of your chest and then pulls down your bra on one side to reveal a nipple.  He puts his mouth over it and swirls his tongue around it.  Jax looks up to see your reaction and find you looking back biting your lower lip. He smirks and pulls down the other side of your bra and gives that nipple the same attention, making you arch against his mouth. 

"Oh, Jackson," you moan.

He lets out a low growl.

"As much as I want to hear all the sexy noises coming out of your mouth while I'm pleasuring you, you gotta keep it quiet, darlin'." He kisses you while he unhooks your bra and tosses it aside. He then unbuttons your pants and backs himself off the bed. He slowly slides your pants and thong off your hips and down your legs. He licks his lips, excited to unwrap you like his present. You watch him as he lowers himself to his knees and kneels at your feet to help you with your boots and removes the rest of the clothes off your body.  Suddenly feeling a bit exposed and shy like it's your first time with Jax, you keep your legs together. Jax places his hands on each of your knees and coaxes them open. He looks at his gift and licks his lips.

He dives in between your legs while looking up at you. His soft lips and warm wet tongue are licking and sucking you on all the right places and his beard tickling your inner thighs.  That's new to you.  He barely had peach fuzz in his teens. You feel him slip a finger inside you as his lips are pulling at your clit.  Your breathing is getting shorter and more shallow.  Jax inserts another long finger in you and finds your g-spot, rubbing circles on it.

"Jax, I..." Feeling your orgasm building, you are rendered speechless. Jax continues sucking and stroking you until you come undone into his mouth and on his fingers. He watches you squirm and thrash as you scream quietly in ecstasy. He doesn't stop until you are sensitive to his touch and you push him away.  He wipes his beard and smiles at you, proud of his accomplishment. Jax surely still knows his way around your body.

You glance up to him as he gets to his feet.  You watch him strip his clothes off, first the kutte, then his shirt pulled over his head.  He kicks off his sneakers as he takes his time unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans.  You're glad he's taking his time though because it allows you to soak up and remember every second you have with this gorgeous man in front of you.  He finally pulls his jeans and boxers down.  Besides from the other day, the last time you and him were this intimate, the both of you were shorter, slimmer and clearly less experienced.  Now you’re both grown, gained curves and muscles and are far more seasoned in the bedroom.  He's also certainly grown in other places as well.

"Back up," Jax nods his head as he climbs onto the bed and  hovers above you.  You scoot back so your whole body is on the bed.  Jax lays on top of you and smashes his lips against yours again, cradling your neck and grinding against you.  You can feel the head of cock teasing your opening.

"Maybe we should use a condom this time," you tell him in between kisses.

"I'm not gonna lie.  You did feel amazing without one the other day," Jax admits.

You and Jax had always been careful and taking the right steps when you were younger, using condoms at all times so that time was the first time you both had sex without one. Thankfully you are on birth control and both are STD-free, but you know you shouldn't take any chances.  

You give him a knowing look.

"Anything for you, darlin'." Jax gives you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to put on a condom.  He climbs back on top of you and looks at you as he caresses your face, still not believing that you're beneath him.

You gently grab his face with both hands and kiss him deeply. You then feel him slip inside you. All of him.  You moan into his mouth and move with him, both of your hips slowly thrusting in unison. Jax grabs your hands and brings them above your head. He intertwines his fingers with yours and thrusts deeper into you.  He watches you while you relish in the moment, as he pulls these lost emotions from you with each deliberate push.  You wrap your legs around his waist and it encourages him to pick up the pace.  You try to do the same and meet his rhythm.

Jax releases your hands and reaches for your legs behind him and brings them in front of him to rest on his shoulders, deepening his access to you.  His hand reaches up to cradle your neck as he pounds into you. You then feel his thumb slide over the front of your throat.  You start to feel his fingers tighten slightly around your neck. This is also new for you and Jax, but you're loving it.  You can feel yourself getting closer to achieving another orgasm.

"Jackson..." you pant.

"Come for me, darlin'.  I know you're there," Jax grunts.

You close your eyes and feel bliss as you let yourself go, letting your body take over you.  After your orgasm subsides, you open your eyes and find Jax is no longer making love to you, but just smiling at you while still inside you. Now it's time for you to show him a few tricks you've learned.

"Get on your back," you tell him.

Without any protest from Jax, you both switch positions.  Jax lies on his back with this hands behind his head, waiting for you to take the wheel.  You straddle him and take your time sinking yourself onto him.  You feel a lot more confident about being on top than you did when you were younger.  You were shy and inexperienced.  Now? You're going to ride him like the sexiest Harley you've ever had the privilege of sitting on. You slowly start riding him, rocking back and forth, grinding on him and teasing him. You enjoy the feeling of him filling you up to the hilt as you push down on him.

Jax looks up at you, watching you take charge and own his dick.  He definitely notices you're a lot more comfortable in this position than he remembers.  He reaches up and runs his hands over your breasts, massaging them and caressing your nipples as you enjoy the ride. He's certainly enjoying the view.

"You are still as fucking beautiful as the day I fell in love with you," Jax says, mesmerized by the image in front of him.

You smile and then lean back, placing your hands behind you on his thighs. Jax looks at you curiously. You roll your hips and start sliding up and down on him, giving him a clear view.  He looks down and watches himself disappear in and out of you.

Jax groans and runs the palms of his hands over your thighs and settles on your hips.  One of his hands then slides over between your legs and he starts rubbing circles on your clit with this thumb. You moan and gasp. You then lean forward, placing your hands on the pillow of each side of his head and lean down closer to him.  You start bouncing your ass up and down as you look down on him, your hair forming a curtain around your faces.  Jax grabs your ass and starts thrusting up to meet your movement. The only sounds echoing in the room are your pants and your bodies slapping against each other.  Jax speeds up and watches your face as it distorts.  He knows you've got another one inside you and you're very close.

"Come on, darlin'. Let it go." Jax coos.

You let out a loud moan as your legs shake and feel like a firecracker exploded inside of you.  Jax clamps a hand over your mouth as he continues to drill inside.

"There you go, Y/N." Jax smiles watching you fall apart on top of him.  He then swiftly flips you onto your back and roughly drives into you a few more times until he finally gets his own release.

As he slows down, you both look at each other, savoring the moment and then kiss softly.

Suddenly the door knob starts to rattle and the person on the other side is banging on the door.

"Yo, hurry it up! I gotta take a shit!" an unrecognizable voice shouts.

"Hey asshole, the bathroom is further down!" You both hear Chibs shouting. You place your hands over your mouth as you start to laugh.

"Shh!" Jax puts a finger over his pursed lips as he tries to suppress his own laughter.

SMASH CUT TO BLACK

A/N: I never put notes at the end but I figured I'd let you enjoy the fic first before mentioning I currently don't have plans to expand this story. I might in the future, but not in the near future.  I originally intended the first part to be short and be a one off, but I just kept writing and writing and there were so many places and opportunities to keep expanding. Same for part two.  There were so many directions I could have gone. I had a bit of struggle with this for some reason. It's not quite exactly how I pictured it ending but it works for what it is.

If you haven’t read it yet, I wrote two short scenes titled “Carry Me Home” and “Joyride” which are like flashbacks in this universe.

[seokmingiggles]

on cerulean tides.

Anon requested on 201219: "Would you do an idol!Kim Namjoon one shot where the reader (non-idol) is best friends with the Maknaes and believes there's no way Namjoon would ever like her so she begins to avoid him whenever she hangs out with the Maknaes at the dorms/studio/dance practice to try to get over him and Joon picks up on it and thinks he did something wrong/is sad since he thinks he stands no chance with her until the Maknaes force them to realize they return each other's feelings? Thank you in advance!"

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x female reader

Genre: angst to fluff, idol!au, non-idol!reader, happy ending.

3.04k words

Warnings: heavy feelings of inferiority and insecurity, self-doubt, an incredibly brief mention of alcohol consumption, a dragged out metaphor about the sea.

With the ocean of uncertainty plaguing you, you've been avoiding the boy your heart yearns for, not knowing just how much your distance has been impacting him too. Alternatively, Namjoon is your beacon to guide you through the stormy feelings of self-doubt that you've been struggling with lately.

A/N: Thank you for your request! I probably made this much angstier than you intended, but I promise a fluffy ending awaits you. I hope it's okay! (I promise it’s not some pirate!au with a title like this lmao)

This one is dedicated to anyone who feels doubtful of themself. I wish that one day you will be able to see what an astonishing and beautiful being you are. All of us have insecurities about ourselves—big or small—but letting those criticisms consume you is unhealthy and prevents you from living your life to the fullest. Please reach out to talk to someone you trust if these feelings become overwhelming. Things will get better. Please take care of yourself!

•• You and Jimin laughed as you ran down the hallway, each of you with a bag of food in your arms. You could hear Taehyung and Jungkook scampering behind you, the former being noisy as he chased after you, Jungkook only had slightly more grace as he moved.

Being close with the maknae line of BTS had its perks. You could visit them in the studio if they called for you, you could have movie nights at their dorm on their off days, and above all, you could goof around to lift your spirits. You had boundaries; you knew when to leave them be during the busier periods of their schedules and how you couldn't post anything about them online. You didn't mind, though. Your friendship was more than enough.

You were a high school classmate of Jungkook's a few years back, although the two of you never spoke much during those first couple of years. It was only after his group's debut where the boy found himself in need of a tutor, and the school recommended a few to him. Yours was the only name on the list that Jungkook recognized, so it was an easy decision for him to make. Once you and your classmate graduated high school, Jungkook was no longer in need of a tutor, but he wanted to maintain your friendship as he didn't have many others he was close to in your graduating class. Slowly but surely, you also became friends with Taehyung and Jimin when visiting Jungkook over the years. Now, the four of you were practically inseparable. While the boys wouldn't tell you to your face, they all admired you because you never once treated them differently despite their status as idols, especially as their public popularity increased over time.

Jimin reached the vacant studio room before you, holding the door open to let you inside before shouting back at his friends, "You two better hurry up or else (Y/N)-ah and I will eat all the food!"

"Oh, I believe it!" Taehyung cupped his mouth as he yelled back, being pulled by the younger boy at his wrist.

Soon enough, Jungkook and Taehyung made it to the room before Jimin could lock them out. This whole ordeal began when Taehyung needed to use the bathroom after you all had entered the BigHit building. Jungkook went with him, leaving you and Jimin with the lunch he'd ordered.

"All that running from you guys worked up my appetite," you declared as you removed the assortment of containers from one of the bags.

"Well, all that chasing worked up mine," Taehyung countered, teasingly sneering at you and Jimin, the latter already breaking apart his disposable chopsticks.

The four of you began to devour your meal. The three boys were in the middle of a busy working day and invited you to join them for their lunch break. It wasn't an uncommon request; you'd see the trio at least once a week, sometimes more if their schedules cooperated.

Some playful banter with full mouths and filling tummies later, you were sitting back in your chair as you watched Jungkook finish the last of the japchae when someone knocked on the studio door.

After Jungkook managed a "Come in," with his cheeks full of noodles, it was Namjoon's head that poked through the doorway.

"I just want to remind you three that you'll be needed for our meeting in fifteen minutes," the group leader said, eyeing the now-emptied remnants of the lunch you enjoyed. "Hi, (Y/N)."

"Hi, Namjoon." You matched his monotonous tone, maintaining difficult eye contact as he shut the door behind him.

"Okay, whatever is going on between you two needs to stop," Jimin sighed out, visibly frustrated. "You used to get along so well with hyung, and now it's so awkward seeing you interact."

Taehyung sat up straighter, "I agree. You two have so much in common. It's sad to see you so distant now."

Jimin and Taehyung were right. You and Namjoon had to do a lot of scheduling together back when you were Jungkook's tutor, so he was the first one you'd gotten to know in the band, other than your former classmate. The two of you shared a similar mindset: you were both compassionate, responsible, and—arguably above all else—incredibly bad at sharing your feelings.

You wished you could determine the exact moment you began to develop feelings for Namjoon. Maybe it was something about his warm smile; maybe it was his cheery laugh. Or perhaps the way he so intently listened to what the others had to say and would consider ideas other than his own. You not once ever doubted his ability as a leader. You've known the boys since their debut, and even back then, you found Namjoon fit for his role; he's only become better at his job in the passing years.

Yet, something about him made you doubt your ability to be his equal. Part of you knew it was silly to begin avoiding Namjoon in the first place, but the other part of you couldn't bear to suffocate with those annoying butterflies swarming every time your gaze met his. Even from across a room, Namjoon had a powerful effect on you. Part of you wanted his impact on you to stop; part of you missed his closeness.

"Jungkook, you're being awfully quiet," Jimin exchanged a look with Taehyung, "Do you know something that we don't?"

Your head snapped up in Jungkook's direction, silently begging for the boy to deny their assumption.

The youngest hummed and grabbed a water bottle, twisting the cap off and taking a sip. He swished the water around in his mouth.

"Don't make me squish your cheeks to spit out that water, Jeon."

Jungkook swallowed. He glanced at you for confirmation, although instead, took in your tired appearance. He brought it upon himself to make your exhaustion stop.

"(Y/N)-ie likes Namjoon."

You sighed at hearing those words aloud. You couldn't even be mad at your friend; the only way he found out about your feelings was over some drinks one night where you were rambling about how pretty you thought Namjoon looked earlier that day. In hindsight, maybe it wasn't a good idea to tell your crush's bandmate that you liked him.

Jimin shifted in his seat, "Okay, and...? Don't tell me you thought we didn't already know, (Y/N)-ie."

"Yeah, it was obvious when you'd become flustered around hyung!" Taehyung added, "But after you began avoiding him I figured something had changed."

You fiddled with the cap of your water bottle. "Does he know?"

"Namjoon? No, there's no way. He's about as clueless as you are when it comes to crushes." Jimin pondered then continued, "Maybe we could talk to him about it-"

"Absolutely not."

"But why not (Y/N)? It's painful for us to watch the two of you interact lately; it must be worse for you guys."

"I don't want him to know."

"That's not a good reason-"

"It's good enough for me. Now please, can we just forget about it? Don't you guys have a meeting to get to?" You felt bad for shutting down their request. After all, they were only trying to help you.

The boys began to stand, collecting the bags and containers scattered on the floor. They were visibly defeated, but they respected your plead.

Jimin stood by you before turning to the door, "Okay, if that's what you wish, we won't tell him. I do think you should, though, (Y/N). Maybe the results will be in your favour."

•

You felt numb as you were on the bus heading back to your apartment. You tried to escape from your thoughts about the boy you were so fond of, yet your mind defeatedly wandered its way back to him no matter how hard you tried. It pained you to see Namjoon's behaviour shift with yours as you began to avoid him throughout the past month. You didn't realize how severe it had become until your friends pointed it out to you. You thought the distance you created would help alleviate the pounding sensation in your chest and clammy palms associated with Namjoon's presence. You never thought that one day you'd prefer your racing heart to the emptiness you feel now.

He's too good for me, you kept convincing yourself until it was all that you believed.

He couldn't love someone like me.

You have struggled with self-compassion throughout your life thus far. Feelings of gratitude coming in inconsistent waves like the unpredictable ocean tides. You were stormier lately—lost in the sea of doubt and floundering to find stability on shore again.

Namjoon used to be your lifeboat. He taught you that appreciating oneself is necessary to become genuinely happy. He even wrote lyrics about the phenomenon. He made it sound so simple, so achievable. Yet, the theory is typically easier than the practice. Wind and rain continued to pelt down at you, thrashing the waves beneath your surface and making it difficult to breathe.

You wanted to change your mentality; you wanted to be more confident. But constantly comparing yourself to others is equivalent to drowning in the murky ocean, the depths sucking you further and further below until not a trace of sunlight remains.

You made it back to your apartment safely in one piece. You were mentally exhausted and drained at all of your overthinking. You felt the need to cry out of frustration.

"Remember to breathe when you're feeling like this. Come on, just slow, deep breaths."

Namjoon's voice resounded in your head from a few months back when you overheard him calming Taehyung down in a neighbouring room.

You missed hearing his voice.

It was an unmistakable desire. You missed the way he'd look at you with utmost attention and care when you'd speak with him. You missed the way he'd give his thoughtful advice. You missed his smile, his laughter; you missed him. You longed to be back in Namjoon's presence. He always knew what to do or say to help calm the storm. He was a lighthouse beckoning you back safely to shore.

You were getting tired of avoiding him.

But you were also getting tired.

Padding your way to your bed, you slipped into comfy loungewear and got beneath your covers. You momentarily stared up at the ceiling before closing your eyes.

"Come on, just slow, deep breaths."

•

Your ringing phone was what awoke you. It could have been minutes or hours later; you weren't sure. You reluctantly pushed yourself out of your blanketed fortress and made your way to the kitchen counter where you left the device. It was still light outside, but you could see the sun beginning to approach the horizon line.

"Hello?" You said, cursing in your head for the way your groggy voice sounded.

"Hi, (Y/N). It's been a while. Could we talk?"

You froze, being doused by the icy sea.

"Um..." you hesitated. You were caught off guard in a place that was supposed to be your retreat, by a person who was supposed to be your oasis.

"Deep breaths."

"Yeah, I-I guess we could talk."

"Great. Would it be okay if I came to you? I'm almost done here in the studio, maybe another thirty minutes before I can head out."

You were nodding your head before you verbalized your agreement.

"Okay. I'll see you soon, (Y/N)."

"See you, Namjoon."

You hung up first and set your phone back onto the kitchen counter, your elbows following shortly after so you could place your face in your hands.

You knew this was coming; Namjoon was a responsible young adult. There was no way he could have missed your change in behaviour around him as much as you wished for otherwise.

•

Thirty minutes went by faster than you wished. The sharp knock on your door startled you as you were washing some dishes in the kitchen. Cleaning when stressed wasn't an unusual habit of yours.

You hesitated, grabbing a tea towel to dry your hands before treading carefully to the door.

"Deep breaths."

You removed the chain and carefully opened the door. You knew Namjoon was waiting for you on the other side, yet your breath still hitched as your eyes wandered upwards to meet his.

"Come in," you forced from your lips and stepped to the side to let your guest past.

Namjoon thanked you as he slipped his shoes off and made his way to your sofa, declining your offer of a drink.

You joined him shortly after, keeping him more than an arms-length away.

"What's wrong, (Y/N)?"

"Deep breaths."

"Did Jimin mention anything to you?" You could tell your voice sounded weak, but you had other pressing concerns.

"Nothing elaborate. All I was told by him and Taehyung was that I should try talking to you. They didn't say why, but I think we both know."

You searched his face for any signs of dishonesty but found none. "Nothing's wrong-"

"Please," he pushed, "I'd like to think I know you well enough over the years. Something is wrong. I should have come here sooner. You know you can trust me." He even bared a small smile after his words.

It only made your heart plummet further into the depths: a watery grave with your name written on it.

"You're just..." you sighed out, already feeling tears prickling at your eyes. "You're really... just... good. I hope you know how good of a person you are, Namjoon. I don't know how else to explain it. You're a good person. No, that's an understatement. You're... it sometimes doesn't feel like you're real, you know? You're just so giving and considerate and so aware of others' wellbeing." You failed to hold back your emotions; a tear slid down your cheek. "You're good."

And proving your point, Namjoon slid closer to you on the couch so he could take your hand in his.

"Sometimes I feel so insignificant," you continued, "like I'm nobody special or that I'm not doing anything important or worthwhile; that I'm not enough. It's like I'm stuck on the bottom of the ocean. I'm not drowning, but I'm able to see the world passing by above me."

Namjoon said nothing for a moment and just absorbed your thoughts as he mindlessly brushed his thumb across the back of your hand. "There are times in everyone's' life where we all feel that way. You can only tread water for so long before you exhaust yourself and begin to sink. I've felt that way, too—stuck, insignificant. If I'm being blunt, part of my desire to change my mindset was because of you, (Y/N). When I first met you as Jungkook's tutor, you seemed so knowledgable, responsible; you had a good head on your shoulders. You were good. Part of you reminded me of myself, yet part of me also felt intimidated by you." Namjoon stopped momentarily to smile at your astonished face as you mouthed 'intimidated?'. "Yes, intimidated. I've admired you since day one. Then slowly, I realized that those feelings became more than just a simple admiration. But I held back saying anything because I didn't feel worthy of you. I let my own self-doubt get in the way."

"I'm the one not worthy of you, 'Joon."

"Please, love, nothing about that is true," the boy's voice became so tender as he brought his free hand to the side of your face. "One day, I'll show you just how incredible you are to me," he swiped his thumb to collect a stray tear, "but right now, I think you're more in need of a tissue and a hug."

A small, breathy laugh fell from your lips as you accepted the tissue Namjoon retrieved for you. After effectively wiping away your salty tears, you gladly situated yourself in his outstretched arms, being held in a tight embrace. The two of you remained like that until your breathing gradually calmed down, then you moved so you were lying against him with your back to his chest. His nose lightly nuzzled the top of your head.

"All of us have a bit of the ocean inside of us," Namjoon continued, delicately grazing his thumb around the curved corner of your eye, "it means you have the power to control the waves to some extent. The sea can be unpredictable, but so is life. It takes practice to learn to control your waves. I know you may not believe in yourself now, but please, (Y/N), believe me when I tell you that you're enough. You're more than enough."

•

Namjoon stayed with you for the rest of the evening to make sure your spirits were lifted even the slightest bit. The distance that grew between you was from a mutual error; you came to understand your similar sides to the story as you continued to talk. The whole ordeal made you realize that you're not alone in your insecurities. Even someone you suspected to be flawless had doubts of their own.

You were situated back in your bed after Namjoon had left minutes ago. He wished you a good night and pleasant dreams, topping off his adieu with a quick peck to your cheek. You relished in the feeling of your butterflies returning, no longer letting them suffocate you, instead, embracing them in their colourful magnificence.

You recalled what Namjoon said earlier to you:

"You know, what you said about the ocean, it can be beautiful too. Yes, it's scary when you're alone and trapped at the bottom beneath the waves in the dark, but the thing about the sea is that it's continuously moving and shifting. Like our lives, tides come in highs and lows and can change from day-to-day, hour-to-hour. It's unfair to assume we can always remain floating on the surface; when that happens, you can't go anywhere yourself. You need to be partially submerged to move and make choices.

Why don't we traverse this sea together? We can help guide each other until we've found our shore again."

Namjoon was your lighthouse; you were the moon guiding his tides.

••

[the-darklings]

coa one year later & self-reflection

(*drags out a creaky metal chair and plops down on it heavily*)

Hi. It’s me, ya boi skinny--

Wait, wrong one. Do over.

Hi, it’s me, Kat, and I’m not dead. Clearly. Today being one year anniversary of COA has kinda put me in a reflective mood, so I guess I decided to sit down and just...talk about some things, thoughts and feelings I’ve been bottling inside for a hot sec. Especially given how radio silent I have gone on here and people deserve a bit of perspective. 

And before anyone starts worrying, it’s all good, and I’m still around and currently in good health for the most part. 

So, let’s take it back to the start. Regardless of how dramatic it may sound, we need to go back a year for that. 

By technicality alone, COA actually turned one year old on October 12th. That’s when the first part was posted. However, the reason I’m treating today as the aforementioned birthday is simple: I had no intention of this story ever being more than a short two-parter. I told this to the discord gang already but COA was only going to have two parts. V was going to die in Tokyo and the rest of the story follows glimpses of John throughout the movies and it’s her ghost that haunts him. Skipping ahead, it was going to have a bittersweet ending of John eventually dying, having completed his task, only to be greeted by V, Daisy and Helen in the afterlife. A peace of sorts. Then, I realised that, well, no. I have more to say on this world and intrigue about this placeholder character V kept growing. 

November 1st happened and I made a very last minute call to continue COA but with the added pressure of doing it during NaNoWriMo 2019. And boy did I. Most of the story was figured out during that very intense month. I posted Part 2 on this day a year ago because I was so eager to share it. Perhaps, in retrospect, a bit too eager. 

For those of you who may not know this, I work as a writer full time for my actual every day job. I’m the main writer for an original webcomic called In the Bleak Midwinter on Webtoon.com and have been for almost two years now. Getting what is essentially your dream job is amazing. I’m very lucky on that front but it also taught me stark realities of having your job and only hobby overlap. It’s a dangerous creative mix. Especially because I was not used to being constraint in what I create or the feeling like I have to please anyone else. Writing as a job is a whole other avenue of creative exhaustion. I love my job a lot and am very, very lucky to have it but it doesn’t change the fact that those initial stages made me fall back on COA a lot for creative freedom that I craved so desperately. To an unhealthy degree looking back on it now. 

But going back to November last year. NaNo time. I did it. Finished on the 24/25th I believe. A juicy final count of 52k+. All while maintaining a weekly update schedule for a fic that usually hit around 10k per update, if not more, even during those early days. Add writing an original story on top of that. Writing every day for hours on end (we are talking 10-12hr days) without any time for other hobbies or time for myself in general. I kept pushing and pushing and pushing. Losing weight and sleep in the process. I think the thing that convinced me that I should continue doing so is the fact that the outpour of support for COA ended up surpassing anything I ever expected or even dared to hope for. I’m not a huge numbers person but the outpour of love and just sheer investment in the story and characters blew me away. John Wick fandom is on the smaller side and has been going through downtime when I posted COA so my expectations were...well, small tbh. I like keeping expectations low to avoid any disappointments in general. But I’ve also always had an issue of being a massive 0 or 100 kind of person. If I love something, it consumes me. In this case, it brought me as much joy and freedom as much as it was steadily pushing me towards the ultimate crash. 

That being said, I can’t thank you all enough for every comment, like, reblog and message and fanart. You’re the reason I got this far. With your support. It brightened some really dark days for me.

But. 

To be frank, it’s never been about you guys. I never wrote or pushed because I felt like I had to appease anyone. That creative mindset is pure poison and I long since learned to let go of it. I kept pushing and kept working myself to the bone because I liked it. I liked how reading peoples’ responses made me feel. I liked the addictive nature of reading all the comments and theories after an update. I loved the idea of brightening peoples’ days and giving them something to cheer them up after what might have been a shitty day. Even if that was at expense of my own time/well being. But for a long time, it wasn’t. I love writing a lot but facts remain facts. 

It was beyond unhealthy and burnout wasn’t a question of if but when and that when was approaching at neck-breaking speed. 

So we come to the end of November. Part 4 has just come out. People were invested and I was invested alongside them. I was just finishing up Part 5 which (back then) was the biggest single chapter I’ve ever written and god I still recall my sheer dread because that was the beginning of Santino being established as a LI. Looking back on that now, it’s downright hilarious how worried I was about the reception of him and V together after John.

So honestly, I hit burnout at around Part 8. Because that’s the first time I recall struggling with writing a chapter. Part 8 came out on December 28th. I had a brief break for holidays. But my mistake was not taking longer back then. Because I continued writing with a barely healed burnout. Followed by almost a year of struggling and continuously creating through that state. It wasn’t like I eased off the pressure, either. Oh, no. The chapters grew in size, the world and the characters with it. AUs amassed quickly and while I adore every single one - again, I didn’t know how to pace myself well enough.

I’m spiteful though. The more the chapters struggled the more I pushed against the burnout. By the time Chicago arrived, however, I knew I was in trouble. I ended up writing 43k+ in a span of 2 months, I believe. And while to some it may not seem like a lot given the time frame, it’s a lot when you’re burnout to a crisp & writing an original story for work + deadlines. Which I was burned out and then some. Chicago was something I was looking forward to writing for months. I have built it up since Part 4. It was a long time coming. So while I’m still proud of it, I would be lying if I said that some scenes were not sacrificed for the sake of keeping to my invisible schedule that no one but me actually cared about. You guys have always been patient. I never felt pushed into anything. It’s always only ever been me doing the harm. 

Chicago was the downwards spiral for me mentally. I felt like I was failing to live up to my own expectations. That people were drifting away from it. I was plagued by the thought that the story I poured so much into was falling apart and growing weaker. Which this has always been an issue with me: I am my own harshest critic. Always have been. In fact, I’m a downright mean little fucker when it comes to just tearing at myself. I know writing is for fun - and it is - but I still like the idea of being proud of my work which only made everything worse despite the love each update received. 

This takes us to the beginning of June. Specifically, June the 2nd. Or, as I like to call it: Kat Makes Another Impulsive Decision but This One Actually Works Out For the Better. On this day, I created the COA Discord server. And damn, I’m not sure what exactly I was expecting when I did ngl. I did it for fun and as an escape more so than anything. But somehow it ended up being the best decision I made in a long while. I know some of you are reading this. So love you lots, dorks. It’s such a privilege to be able to call so many of you my friends even outside of COA now. That little community has given me some of the best memories from this year and helped me to crawl out of my own metaphorical pit I was stuck in. Mentally, I’m doing much better than I did beginning of this summer. Which could be summed up as a constant self-hatred cycle and a feeling of inadequacy. 

That, however, does not mean my burnout magically disappeared. If anything Chapter 17 just put a nail in the coffin so to speak. 2020 has been a shitty year just across the board for obvious reasons I don’t need to go into here but that can only partially be attributed to my mental state. Chapter 17 was...exhaustive. To say the least. But I was determined to stick with my vision and not split it up. I was also starting to be a bit more forgiving towards myself in terms of how long I may take to write it thanks to guys on discord though the feeling of failure and worry never quite faded fully. I’m proud of Part 17. Truly. But that was also when I hit rock bottom creatively on COA. It drained me completely. 

I tried writing Part 18 for weeks after, day in and day out, not getting past the first scene and hating every word I wrote. So I took a deep breath and stopped. Figured I let it marinate and wait instead of trying to piece one of the most crucial chapters in this story like some Frankenstein monster two sentences at the time.

So my solution was simple: give myself some distance from it and write other things. Get my spark back. Of course that’s always a good idea. Having multiple creative escapes is the best thing you can do for yourself creatively. There was just one tiny little problem. 

I was still burned out. Still am. The problem went deeper than just being burned out over COA. I was burned out over writing itself. 

Which is an issue for a person who only has writing as a creative outlet.

I don’t have any other way to express myself. So I was stuck in a runt, trying to write because it’s the only thing that makes me genuinely happy even when I really shouldn’t have. And let me tell you. It’s a shitty fucking feeling. My burnout worsened. I had a thousand ideas but every time I tried to get them down it felt forced, fragmented, and weak. Repetitive and dry. Now, this is also in part because English isn’t my native language, so my vocab is limited as a result, but I hit that sweet rock bottom in that regard, too. 

So, I worked on V (but in her OC form Clara), Lucien and The Elites. All those characters have grown so much since you last read about them. I have multiple original projects planned down the line that will feature all of them existing in their own world, with their own stories and no longer constrained by JW canon.  

Which, finally, takes us to the end of October and beginning of November 2020. 

I was convinced that the best course of action was to do NaNo again but with an original story this time (involving V). Suffice to say, it took a grand total of maybe 5-6 days and hating every second of writing it while also feeling like this project I’m so passionate and excited to write (still am) is just...going down the toilet to be blunt, to realise I may have made the wrong call. 

Still, the stubborn ass that I am, I pushed through. Convinced I can get into it if I just keep going. The realizations that I am sharing with you right now won’t have been possible if it hadn’t been for a rather curious turn of events about a week and a half ago.

I recently bought a gaming laptop, all in preparation for Cyberpunk 2077 dropping ofc. But, in the meantime, I kept recommending a game to a friend on the COA server. That game? Far Cry 5. (It’s a blast to play btw, just a side note.) And playing it brought back all the feelings of nostalgia from the days when I used to write for that fandom. So I revisited some old work. Checked the stuff I never published and that has been sitting ducks in my docs for months and hoo boy. Let me tell you it was a vibe check of the worst kind. 

The stark difference in the prose and the ease with which it flowed was...startling. It made me remember why I love writing so much and how proud I used to be of what I wrote back in the day. Which is not to say I’m not proud now, but it was just such a sharp dip in quality it was impossible to ignore.  

So I didn’t.  

I paused NaNo, moving it to another month. I paused writing for everything but work, which with our season coming to an end I will also get a rest from soon, too. I kinda paused in general. For the first time in a while, I finally forced myself to switch off. Rest. 

The reason why I haven’t been on here is simple: guilt and not having energy to be on here. I like making my blog a safe space for everyone. Similar to escape it has become for me. I couldn’t pretend I was fine when I wasn’t. I felt obliged to perform and being here became exhausting. I haven’t been checking my inbox. Haven’t done much of anything except occasionally dropping by and reblogging a random post so people know I’m alive.

And that’s that, folks. That’s where I am currently. Resting. Completely exhausted mentally but resting. Getting my energy back. 

So where does that leave us, huh? If you read this far, dunno what to tell you. Thanks, I suppose. It’s still odd to think people actually care about my existence sometimes.

I know what you’re likely thinking, too. So does this mean COA is never gonna be finished? What is gonna happen to it? Are you abandoning it?

The answer: no. 17 out of 25 chapters and 250k+ in, I’m too far in not to give it a proper conclusion. Not because I owe it to anyone other than myself. I want this story to be a stepping stone for my future as a writer. I want to prove to myself that I can get this done and finish it. As of right now (as you can no doubt tell with how long it’s been since last update) it’s on a soft hiatus while I rest. This rest? Not sure how long it may last. Right now, my plan is till mid December at which point I will reevaluate. Ideally, I finish the year with an update. But my New Year’s resolution is to finish COA. That timeline has become a little more murky now but, again, ideally it’s within the first quarter of 2021. Will that happen? I don’t know. And I don’t want to make false promises, either. 

All I’m saying is that it will be done. I’m just no longer sure how long, exactly, it may take me to reach that Epilogue. I don’t expect many people to stick around for however long it may take me, but if you do, thank you. Truly. I really and deeply mean that. 

So what’s on the cards for this blog in the meantime? Well, CP77 is coming out in under a month (if it doesn’t get moved again lmao rip) and I expect that to be my soft return to posting my writing on here again. We will see where the muse takes me, if at all. Regardless though, I’m excited. 

One doctorate thesis later, here we are at the end of this really long rambling session. I hope that this has given you some perspective on things going on behind the scenes. I spared you some of the gorier details but I think this post has been long overdue. I suppose I, myself, was just too unwilling to face these things despite knowing about them deep down for a while now. I’m too self-critical not to notice but acting on correcting this behavior has been a whole other matter clearly. 

Thank you for reading this post, my writing in general, and supporting me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m still around. More is on the way in the future. I’ll be seeing you all real soon. And all my love to all of you. 

Love,

- Kat.   

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 10: Myofascial Release

Characters: Captain Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: Shane and Sy decompress after an emotional evening, Shane finds it difficult to get out of her own head and live in the moment, but Sy knows exactly how to help her, and not to be a complete hoe and spoil things, but…things get steamier than ever between our favorite therapist and patient duo.

Oh snap! You’re behind! Get on track here!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings:  Language, mature themes, alcohol consumption, the smut you’ve all been waiting for so patiently! (I hope it lives up to your undoubtedly high expectations!)

Author’s Note: Oh gosh, y’all, I am so nervous to post this. Somehow it doesn’t feel like my smuttiest smut. And like, all previous chapters have been kind of leading up to this moment. The good news is, I’ve decided to continue writing this story after the sex. I’ve got some ideas about where to go from here, and I want to keep it going. Plus, it feels wrong to write all of this and then just drop them without a big picture resolution. They’re gonna go through some shit, though. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags: 

@onlyhenrys

@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland

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@radkesgirl83

Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Her living room was cast in the low light of the floor lamp she had left on. Intending to come home after dark. Alone. She hated walking into a dark house by herself.

Well, tonight, she wasn’t alone. And although Sy had been to her house before, this was different. They were officially a couple, and they were no longer waiting to express, to the fullest extent, their true affection for one another.

Ever the hostess, despite her nervous tension, Shane asked Sy if he wanted anything to drink, rambling off several options somewhat awkwardly.

“I’m fine, darlin.’” He assured her, stopping her at some point in the rant, before she was completely done. “Do you need something?”

“Umm, I think I should have a glass of wine.” Her eyes darted to the kitchen across her serve-through counter space and landed on her fridge. “I’m…I’m really nervous.”

"Why don't we watch a little TV for a while? You get you some wine, and I'll put somethin' on. What are we watchin', sunshine?"

"Ummmm, something light? Funny? Something I've seen." She wouldn't be able to process anything new or heavy right now.

"I'm on it." he kissed the top of her head and left her side for the sofa, where he plopped himself down like a comfy hound dog, and picked up the remote to her Smart TV.

She smiled as she busied herself in the kitchen. She decided she wanted a snack with her wine. She got a plate of cheese and crackers together first. Then she remembered she had some venison sausage one of her coworkers had brought in, and put that on the plate, too. She got out a chilled bottle of her favorite, cheap moscato and a stemless glass. She couldn't go in there without something for Sy, so she also got a glass of ice water ready for him. She put the whole spread on her big serving tray and took it to the living room.

Sy was already halfway through the first episode of Parks and Recreation.

"I saw this in your 'Watch it again' group, and thought maybe you'd like to re-watch it. I've heard you talk about it a lot, and I've never seen it." He didn't complain at her for taking forever. He just lit up when he saw her. Like it was the first time. And not the hundredth.

"That's perfect, babe. I brought some snacks out, too. Some cheese and crackers, and this really good sausage one of my coworkers brought me. You like deer?" she asked.

"One of my favorite pet names." he teased. "I do, though, yes."

They ate, and laughed, and watched about four or five episodes, it was hard to keep track. But after approximately half the bottle, Shane had summoned some courage. She started playing at the texture of Sy's jeans, running a fingernail across the coarse fabric.

"Hang on, love bug. I want to know somethin.'" she looked up at him, mildly confused. "I'm trying to think of a reason you need to get tipsy to sleep with me that I shouldn't take personally." he rubbed her upper arm, comforting her as no one had done since she was a small child. At least not that she could remember.

"No, Sy. It's not like that. You aren't the problem at all!" she paused. He let her gather her thoughts. She appreciated that he knew she intended to continue and that he didn't rush her to do it. He was patient. And kind. And all of that should have made this whole night easier. But somehow it didn’t.

“I’m the problem." She confessed after a long pause and a deep sigh. "I mean, I’m in my head about it all, I know. But it’s been…almost six years since I’ve slept with anyone, five and a half, at least, and I can’t seem to wrap my head around it now that I know it’s going to happen again.”

He pulled her body into his, squeezing her tightly for one of his soul cleansing hugs.

“Sunshine. Everything will come back to ya. We’ll just go as slow as ya want. I got all night.”

“Okay. Well, I guess, since I’m a bit sleepy from the wine, we should head to bed.”

Sy affirmed the idea, and made to help her put their snacks away in the kitchen.

She got out containers for their leftover food while Sy stoppered the wine, put it in the fridge, and washed their glasses.

She felt his warmth before she felt his touch. He stood behind her, radiating his particular brand of heat for a moment, and taking in the scent of her hair near her right ear. She heard a low rumble from someplace deep in him which slowed her efforts at the counter. His hands were light but very much present on her hips. A whisper against the fabric of the casual but feminine floral dress she’d chosen for the night. But she felt it like the weight of her favorite old blanket, heavy with years and warm comfort.

He kissed her temple, chaste and unassuming. But still full of desperation. She could tell that he was ready. Even without the alignment of their bodies completely giving him away.

“Don’tcha think this stuff can wait a couple hours, darlin'?"

His baritone, breathless in her ear, was soothing her back into the mindset of being with him. His feather touch still lingering at her hips and waist. She thought back to those seminars she'd gone to on manual therapy where the speaker talked in depth about the fascial tissues running all across the various muscles in the human body and how trauma to one part could cause tension in another like a snag in a sweater and how he taught the participants techniques to undo that trauma through myofascial release. Sy was slowly managing to unwind and unbind the taut fibers of her heart and relieve that pain that Elliott, in particular had set into place so firmly when he'd hurt her. Lied to her. Cheated on her. Gaslit her. Made her feel like she'd never be loved if she left him. Made her question the very idea of what love meant. Because if what they'd had was truly love, she didn't want it. Wanted no part of the games or the abuse or the manipulation.

Without fully realizing it, during this time of reflection and healing, Shane had given up the task at her hands and turned to Sy, open to his treatment, as he'd always been so open to hers…or mostly. And she let him kiss her, reciprocating. And hold her, returning his enveloping embrace. She even let him pick her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, resting them on his…all too well-defined bilateral gluteus maximus that she'd had to pretend to ignore for weeks. In the therapist side of her brain, alarm bells were going off. "His knee isn't fully healed! You're gonna undo all of the work you've both done so far! He's gonna hurt himself carrying you around!" but she ignored them and trusted him as he walked to her room.

Shane wanted to say that her bedroom was one of splendor. Immaculately made bed, and overall, the picture of tidiness. The reality was much, MUCH different. Glasses half full of water were everywhere (she may be forgetful, but at least she was optimistic), at least one coffee mug sat on the nightstand from the previous weekend when she took a morning cup of tea in bed with her George Harrison biography. Laundry overflowed from a sorting hamper in the corner, and her bed sat, unmade, littered with crumpled pillows, sheets, blankets, and the pajamas she'd slept in last night. She wasn't the kind of person to make her bed for reasons other than having company over, like the fancy company you had to give a tour of your whole house. She'd tried to be that person numerous times, but it never seemed to stick.

Tonight, though, the guilt that came with sub-par housekeeping skills wasn't plaguing her. Right now, all she felt was the weightlessness of being with Sy, wrapped in him, kissing him, and fully ready for what was about to happen between them, as he fell with her onto her bed. Their heads clunked together awkwardly, invoking a mutual wince, followed by bouts of laughter and playful kisses.

He hovered over her a moment, just taking her in. His fingers ghosting her forehead and cheeks to clear it of the whisps of hair obscuring her face. He seemed to examine her in methodical quadrants. Learning the curves and colors and every wrinkle, freckle, and pore. She was still fully clothed, but she'd never felt so bare and vulnerable.

He left her eyes for last. His gaze drowning her delightfully. Random song lyrics came to mind, "the serenity of a clear blue mountain lake" and she thought yes. That is the precise aesthetic of this man's stare. His expression was inscrutable. She wanted to say he looked happy and content, but she didn't want to presume.

He began tracing the floral pattern on her dress with his fingers, and said, "I really like this dress on you."

She laughed, "Oh, that's the beginning of the oldest line in the book. You know you've already got me in bed, right?"

"No, I…" he chuckled, embarrased. "I mean it sincerely. Seeing you in flowers like this…makes me think they bloom right from ya."

She propped herself up on her elbows, dumbstruck by this uncharacteristically poetic side of him she'd just been shown. She stroked the side of his face.

"The man who came up with the original pickup line is rolling over in his grave attempting to kick himself for not thinking of something so beautiful."

"Yeah?"

"HELL yeah. He would have gotten WAY more lucky with a statement like that."

"You're probably right." he said, pulling her up to hold her in his arms.

"If for no other reason that it would have landed him a higher caliber woman than the floozies that he probably got."

He moaned his ascent against her neck, and continued, "Which would have meant a lot more getting lucky down the road, right?"

"Traditionally speaking, I'd say yes." she laughed, her fingers in his hair, which was barely long enough for the action.

"Okay, I know I said I liked the dress, but…" he tugged at the hemline tucked just under her hips and pulled it off her willing body.

"About time, cowboy!" she smiled, breathless.

He continued kissing her as he unhooked her strapless bra and tossed it aside, into the abyss, where the dress had gone. She was so dizzy from him that she barely noticed he was laying her down until her warm back hit cool sheets. She could feel his touch everywhere at once, despite the fact that he was really only making two or three points of contact.

Shane trembled as Sy peppered her soft body with kisses. She couldn't recall shivering like this before, especially when there was nothing but warmth, even heat, around her. His beard grazing her hips and thighs was sending tremors through her unlike anything she'd ever felt. She was a goner, and he hadn't even truly begun.

His breath against her skin was like lightning in the clouds. A storm began forming within, and all around them from his work on her…and eventually in her. He took the time to remove both of the shirts he was wearing--plaid cotton blend and thick white jersey. She reached out to run her fingertips over his chest, covered in a manly stand of thick, dark hair. It ran over his pecs and down his abdomen…farther, she knew, than was exposed right now.

She wanted to touch him. To return the favor. To stir in him the same tempest he'd stirred in her. She unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. She was a little surprised he wasn't resisting her, but pleased, all the same. She took the heavy weight of him out in some shock…she'd caught outlines and silhouettes often since they'd been together, but he hadn't let her go this far yet. It had made her feel a little slutty at the time, but now, she understood. He was…protecting her, in a way. She handled him curiously, gently, as he'd been with her. Her apprehension, however, grew with him.

"Sy, you're…I…" she wasn't sure what to say. But she had concerns about being rent in two by him.

"I think I remember tellin' ya you wouldn't be laughin,' sunshine." he grinned at her, breathless as she stroked him.

"You were right. But don't get too used to me saying so." she smirked back at him.

He pulled away from her, reluctantly, but eager to get back to tasting her.

She couldn't comprehend what he was doing. But it felt incredible. No one she'd ever been with had made her feel like this. Like her blood was effervescent and her body was aglow like embers. His reaction to her was as much a part of the pleasure as his ministrations themselves. She could tell he was enjoying himself which fed her desire.

She felt a tension coiling inside her, something similar to climaxes past but she could tell, much more intense. What was different? Other than Sy, she didn't know. But it was working. She moaned and writhed into him.

"Yeah, sugar. Let that out. I wanna hear it." he quickened, driving her mad and sending her spinning into her bliss, incomprehensible words and sounds escaping her, growls of satisfaction escaping him, but he didn't stop.

She felt his fingers working inside her to pull another climax from deep within her. This was new for her, as well. Not only was he putting her first, but he was making her a priority in double measure before taking anything for himself. As that pressure built in her again, she felt his gaze on her, hungry and adoring, and she heard his grunts of exertion and she thought, lust. She wasn't sure how many of his digits he'd managed to slide into her, but it felt splendid, and she wanted more. She gripped his arms to convey this desire, words caught in her throat. He dove headlong back down to her, adding his mouth to the onslaught of his hand, and before she could get out more than a "Fuuuu" she was falling apart again, her body spasming and writhing beneath his utter oral perfection. Eventually, she finished the word when she ran out of air and had to take in a large gasp on the "uck."

She watched him kiss around her thighs and hips, in awe of him in his entirety.

Breathless, she asked, "Why are you so good to me, Sy?"

"Well, a wise woman once told me, 'good go to heaven.'" he looked coyly up at her. "I think I'm there, sunshine."

"Ya know, you're the best patient I've ever had." she smiled.

"Well, I should hope so." he boasted as he kissed at her breasts, nipping at the taut, dark bud in the center. She gasped. He let go and continued his ascent.

He had a point. Who could have qualified as a "better" patient than him when he'd given her so much? Even more than what they were doing tonight. His kindness. The love he had always shown her, even when she wasn't ready to see it. His strength, but also his vulnerability that she seemed to be the only one ever to see. Combine that with the fact that his mind was basically a steel trap for her every word and it would have made him more than perfect enough for her.

But as he broke away from her kiss to take off his jeans, she marveled at the shape and size of his whole body. Those thick, strong arms, the broad, defined torso, the massive, powerful legs of an avid runner, and a face that God Himself would probably be jealous of, if He was capable of the feeling. This gorgeous exterior that Michelangelo would have killed to sculpt, combined with all of his other amazing qualities, and he was almost too perfect.

He cuddled up next to her, reached up, and caressed her face, still flush with pleasure.

"I could look at this face, and nothin' else for…damn… hours. Maybe days."

She blushed and cast her eyes down, and half whispered, "The feeling is mutual."

"Then why're you lookin' away, darlin'?" he tilted her chin up. "That shy business is cute and all, but you don't have to hide from me, sweetheart."

"Again, it's not you, it's me." she chuckled, nervously.

"You wanna call it a night, for now?" he asked without a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"You're kidding, right?" she raised her eyebrows. "You did all that work getting me ready for you, and I won't let that be a wasted effort." she pulled him to her and into a deep kiss, rolling onto her back and bringing him with her.

"Oh, sugar, that wasn't no wasted effort. That was time well spent. No matter what." he said in short bursts when he could pull away from her lips.

He lifted himself up and over her, kneeling between her legs, already open for him. She thought he should know how ready she was. Thought it should be painfully obvious. But he asked anyway.

"You ready, sunshine?" he asked, as he opened the condom and rolled it on…damn he was slick! She hadn't even noticed him get it from wherever he'd had it. She presumed his jeans pocket, which would explain much. She had been very distracted by his naked perfection.

"Yes. Please." she had been struck with an urgency as they stood here on the verge of everything.

He sunk slowly into her, the contentment of coming home spread over his face, the bliss of being whole spreading over hers. No, she thought. She was more than whole. She'd always felt mostly whole during sex. Sy made her feel as though she was overflowing with herself. And not just because she was overflowing with him. The way he moved in her, over her, with her, it was like he was afraid she'd turn to vapor around him before he could finish. Like she was nothing more substantial than a bubble full of smoke, and he thought she may burst and disappear. Although, you couldn't tell from the tight grip he kept on her. A bruising grip that she thought might have had a chance of popping a football. She didn't care. She wanted him to touch and hold her like this until they had no more to give each other.

As they built toward their mutual undoing, the world and everything in it faded away. There was no personal drama or injury. Nothing but the euphoria of this newfound oneness. The caresses and thrusts and groans of pleasure were the only things that mattered. Each other, and what they found therein.

“Shane.” He whispered to her, his pinnacle nigh.

“Sy!” She whimpered, that familiar tension approaching its apex.

He kissed her, as if he meant to permanently emboss her onto the bedding and onto his lips. She reeled as she came undone, little sparks of light obscuring her vision for a fraction of a second. He followed her closely, breathless and spent.

He laid down beside her, as close to her as possible, and began drawing mindless circular patterns on her stomach and around her breasts.

“Wow.” She said, almost under her breath.

“How ya feelin,’ sunshine?”

“Mmm, boneless. Dazed. Half wishing we’d done that weeks ago. I didn’t have a clue what I was missing.”

“Oh, I think you had an idea.” He said as he neatly doffed and disposed of the prophylactic in the waste can by her bed.

“Okay, a bit.” She chuckled. “It’s not like you can hide that…thing.”

“And I don’t try to, darlin’!” He kissed her forehead “Well, I don’t hide it just anywhere, put it that way.” He smirked at his dirty joke and she swatted him for it.

“You’re bad!”

“And you love it.”

She couldn’t argue. She loved his badness and his goodness and everything in between.

Up Next: Chapter Eleven- Discharge Plan 

[haikyuu-appreciation-club]

•Looking Out for You��

Akaashi x Reader

warnings: one or two curse words

genre: fluff + a pinch of angst if you squint

word count: 2.8k

hey lovelies, just wanted to let you know that this is another personal oneshot i wrote for a friend that was modified to be enjoyed by everyone sooo if there are some things that don’t resonate to you specifically i apologize!!

also, just as i finished this i realized the second half has a similar vibe to “Closer to You” sooo let’s just ignore that lol

oh and i’m sorry if he’s a little ooc, i don’t know his character very well, but i tried my best >_<

anywhoooo i hope all of you akaashi simps enjoy :p

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You had always attended your boyfriends volleyball games, cheering him on from the stands and being the first one to wrap your arms around his neck in congratulations when his team won. You had supported him and his sport even before the two of you had started dating, loving nothing more than being his personal cheerleader with anything he did. Even being pretty quiet and shy by nature, being able to support your significant other with one of the things he was most passionate about brought out your energetic side. It’s not as if you cheered very loud or yelled out his name when they got a point but none the less, your presence was always known to him.

Akaashi was beyond greatful that you were always there. He felt a sense of comfort being able to look at his alluring significant other whenever things on the court became too stressful. He always felt your love and support spread throughout the whole gym like a wildfire as soon as you walked in and he couldn’t ask for anything more. 

During this particular game, he found his gaze landing on you more than usual.  He couldn’t disappoint you, not when you were looking so nice in his spare jersey. You were representing him up in those stands and he would never be able to forgive himself if that expression of awe morphed into an expression of disappointment. However, he was slowly losing his faith in the ability to pull off this win.

The team was on their fifth set of the game. Their stamina had begun to leave their bodies the set before this and now they were just trudging along with whatever they had left. Physical and mental exhaustion plagued them but you knew no matter how drained they were, they would give their all until the very end. The score had gone over a few points on both ends and was now sitting in the low twenties. The apposing team was on match point with Fukurōdani not far behind. However, if the other side got this point, everything was over.

You knew how hard Akaashi and the team had worked. They came to practice early in the morning and left late at night in preparation for this specific match. They polished and perfected every trick in the book, making sure that they were able to put 100% of themselves into this game. You had witnessed their hard work first hand, usually stopping by the gym after school to wait to walk home with Akaashi. You watched the way everyone put their blood, sweat, and tears into improving, constantly putting everything they had into the things they did. You were so beyond proud of the boys, especially Akaashi. You knew how hard he worked and you would still be over the moon with his performance, win or lose.

Akaashi did not have the same mindset. He knew that volleyball wasn’t life or death but that didn’t mean that he didn’t care about the outcome of this game. He had worked his ass off as did the rest of the team and he wanted to make you proud. Now more then ever did he want to be able to walk off that court and feel the warmth of your body pressed against his as you whispered words of congratulations into his ear.

However, the powerful serve that materialize on the other side of the net washed away any chance of that scenario unfolding this game.

Every piece of your heart shattered as you watched the boys of Fukurodani desperately trying to get the ball back up and in play. They were clawing at any opportunity to be able to send it over again and get back their lost points. But in the end, it was no use.

As the gym fell silent, the only sound that met your ears was the soft bounce of the volleyball as it came to a stop. The opposing team and their supporters broke out into cheers but it reached your ears in a muffled manor. The only thing you were focused on was the dejected state of the defeated party. Everyone looked as if they were in a state of shock. Everything they worked so hard for these past weeks had been thrown away in a matter of minutes. You already knew they were all playing each and every mistake over and over again and going over every what-if imaginable.

Your gaze apprehensively wandered to Akaashi. He looked as if he was in a daze. The same nonchalant expression was painted on his face but as you looked into those beautiful blue eyes you could decipher every emotion he was feeling in that moment. He had never been one to show or voice much of his emotions so you had grown to learn how to read him like a book over the years. You could tell how crushed he was at the outcome of this game. He had always put way too much pressure on himself when it came to volleyball. Sometimes forgetting that a sport was a team oriented situation and that he couldn’t place the blame all on himself. That didn’t stop him though.

You wasted no time in standing up and making your way to the court. You mumbled words of apologies as you pushed past people, wanting to pull your boyfriend into your embrace as soon as possible. As much as you felt as if you were being too much with the small action, you knew he would not use his words right away and he needed to be reassured in a matching silence.

Once you reached the court, the team had just concluded shaking hands with the other team and thanking the people who showed up for supporting them. Making their way towards the doors you could see everyone’s tear streaked faces more clearly then you could before. Akaashi was an exception but you knew if he was one to cry, he would be sobbing right now.

You ran up to him and engulfed him in a hug. In that moment you didn’t care who was staring, you just knew that he needed someone. He slowly wrapped his arms around your waist and let his head rest in the crook of your neck. You ignored the sweat that was clinging to his figure, caring only about showing your boyfriend how incredibly proud you were of him. This lasted for a few moments until you pulled away, cupping his face in your hands and placing a chaste kiss to his forehead. You reached down to grab his wrist and pulled him away from the noisy gym and out into the fresh air.

A cool breeze surrounded you two as you sat down against the back wall of the gym. Akaashi slowly followed suit, sinking down next to you. You two sat quietly for a moment, the only sound filling your ears was the rustling of leaves on nearby trees and the soft breaths escaping your bodies. You honestly didn’t know how to break the silence. Usually you and Akaashi were pretty good when it came to communicating with each other, but in this specific situation you were at a loss for words. So, until you could find the right thing to say, you opted for a more physical aspect.

You scooted away from him, creating a gap between you two. He looked over at you, confused as to why you gravitated away from him. That was until he felt your hand snake behind his head and find a place on his cheek, pulling him down into your lap. You ran your fingers through his soft, black locks as he started to shake lightly in your hold. You knew he had finally reached his breaking point. You leaned down and whispered softly into his ear,

“It’s okay Keiji, you can let it out. It’s just you and me.”

In that moment, every emotion he had been suppressing had come crashing down. He turned his face into your inner thigh and quietly sobbed. 

To anyone else, this would be a sight to gawk at. The Keiji Akaashi crying? A man who was always so calm and collected? Who never let his emotions phase him, Crying? However, you knew him better than that. Akaashi was a human being after all. No matter how much strength he had or how composed he was, he too had a breaking point and he trusted you to see that. He always waited until he was with you to rant or yell or cry. He didn’t do it to burden you and never did he take his emotions out on you directly, but you were his home. He knew with you, you would never judge or view him differently. He was comfortable sharing a side of himself that no one got to see.

You felt your own share of tears escape your eyes as you sat there, rubbing his back. Akaashi didn’t breakdown often, but when he did it always pushed you to your own breaking point. You carefully swiped at your face before finally speaking up,

“I know you don’t want to hear it right now, but you did a really great job today. I can already tell you’ve replayed all of the mistakes in your head but you can’t overlook everything you did good Keiji. Sure, you lost, and I can’t begin to imagine how upset you are over that but volleyball is a team sport. You win and lose as a team so you can’t put all the blame on yourself,” Akaashi maneuvered himself so that he was now face up, staring into your comforting eyes as you continued your speech. “You can sulk, and I'll be right here through it all but take this as an opportunity to improve and make yourself the best you can be. You’re an incredible player and I'm so proud to be in those stands watching you, win or lose.”

You took a deep breath and looked down at Akaashi. You couldn’t exactly decipher his emotions in that moment. His lips were slightly parted as he stared up at you, puffy eyes unreadable. Had you said something wrong? The last thing you wanted to do right now was make things worse for him. You lifted your head and averted your gaze, starting to regret opening your mouth at all. 

You felt Akaashi sit up and your eyes traveled back to his figure. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he cupped your cheeks, taking a moment to admire you. You always knew what to say in every situation, good or bad. That was one of the things he had always loved about you. One of many reasons he was so deeply in love with you. He brushed his thumb over your soft skin before pulling you close and connecting your lips. His kisses were always so soft and gentle, love reverberating throughout your body with each one. You wished they could last forever but eventually you two had to break apart for air. He leaned his forehead against yours and mumbled against your lips,

“Thank you Y/N”

You pulled back and nodded, giving him a smile as you brushed away the hairs that clung to his face,

“Let’s go home Keiji”

He stood up and offered you his hand. You laughed at his typical gentleman antics and accepted his outstretched hand, intertwining your fingers with his. 

You two walked back to Akaashi’s house just as the sun began to set. The silence that fell around you two was comfortable, just enjoying being in each others company. You could tell he was still upset over the outcome of the game but there’s no way he wanted to discuss it any further at the moment. He probably would open up about it over breakfast tomorrow morning once he had gotten all his thoughts collected, so you weren’t too worried about it. Right now, you just wanted to give him the opportunity to get his mind off of everything for a moment.

Once you two got through the door, you were greeted with an empty home. Akaashi’s parents usually took business trips on the weekend so you two had the house to yourselves. You ushered your sweaty boyfriend upstairs and instructed him to go take a shower. He gladly agreed, already feeling the warm water soothing his sore muscles. As he walked upstairs, you walked to the kitchen and pulled the menu for your favorite ramen shop off of the refrigerator.

Ramen was always a mutual pick me up dinner for the two of you.  If one of you got a bad grade on an assignment or your club activities weren’t going to well or you just had a bad day in general, you would always go eat ramen together. Today was definitely one of those days. You ordered the ramen to be delivered to Akaashi’s house, not really thinking he would want to eat out tonight. Walking back into the living room you brought some blankets with you to the couch and scrolled through the purchased movies on the television.

Akaashi walked back downstairs and into the living room to see your figure on the couch, sitting with your knees tucked into your chest to leave room for him to sit beside you. He smiled at your considerate actions and took a seat beside you. He grabbed your ankles and pulled your feet so that you slid onto your back, legs draped over his lap. You smiled up at him, admiring how handsome he looked post shower. You turned your attention back to the T.V. and continued to scroll through the movies as you asked,

“Harry Potter type of night?”

He chuckled lightly as he rubbed the top of your lower leg subconsciously,

“Only if it’s the fourth one, the others will have to wait.”

You scrolled to the fourth movie out of the series and clicked on it. As it begun to load you set the remote down and grinned,

“Of course, besides Draco looks the best in the fourth one.”

Akaashi looked at you, trying to suppress a grin as he shoved your legs off of his and stood up. He begun to walk out of the room as you scrambled to your feet and walked after him,

“Keiji, i’m sorry, i was joking i swear, you’re the best looking guy i’ve ever seen,”

You continued to ramble about how attractive your boyfriend was and how much you loved him but were cut off by Akaashi turning around and grabbing you by your waist. He spun you around a few times as you let out laughs that were like music to his ears. Just being with you made him forget about the distress he was feeling earlier. Volleyball wasn’t the most important thing in his life, but you were. As long as he had you, he would be okay in the end. He set you down and placed soft kisses all over your face, earning a few more laughs from you,

“I know you were joking baby, i was too.”

He smiled at you as he began to walk back to the living room. You followed suit until you heard a knock at the door. Akaashi looked over his shoulder a quirked an eyebrow at you. You shrugged, not wanting to give the surprise away, and went to go answer the door.

You walked back to the living room and set the ramen on the table. Akaashi’s eyes visibly lite up at the sight of the logo on the bag. You undid the knot at the top and pulled out akaashi’s bowl of ramen,

“Tada! Pick me up Ramen!”

Akaashi smiled as he took the warm container from your hands. He placed a kiss on your cheek before moving down to sit at the table in front of the couch. You grabbed your ramen and did the same.

You two watched the movie as you ate, quietly commenting at certain parts and snuggling closely once the containers were empty. You loved nights like this, just being in Akaashi’s company and spending time with him without having to worry about anything. He was your safe place, and you were his. It was you guys against the world and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

As the movie came to a close you noticed Akaashi nodding off, and felt yourself doing the same. You pulled him into your lap once more as you leaned back against the couch, letting your eyes flutter shut. Before you drifted off to sleep, you heard sweet words meet your ear,

“I love you Y/N, more then you know”

You smiled softly to yourself as you lightly rubbed his shoulder,

“I love you too Keiji.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[tinalbion]

Hi Tina, thank you for giving the Djinn a go. How about headcanons for a shy, introverted s/i who unknowingly frees the Djinn from the fire opal and is being pursued by him in his Nathaniel Demerest form at their workplace, being all charming and charismatic, but there is this nasty guy at the s/i's workplace who is jealous and wants s/i for himself, so the Djinn reveals his true form to said nasty guy, scaring the living crap out of him and the Djinn declares that s/i is his and his alone.

Of course, Ruth! I always loved the Wishmaster movies (specifically with Andrew Divoff, he’s just a great actor, man), so I figured I’d give the Djinn a test run since I see pretty much nothing for him on here. I even watched the first two to make sure I’d get into the mindset! <3 I do see the charm Nathaniel gives off, oh boy, that man is so desirable. Please let me know how I did!

That stone, that odd stone. 

It was so beautiful and it had to have been worth a fortune, but somehow it ended up in your possession and you were entirely unsure what to do with something of this caliber. You would have to find out a general idea of what it actually was and even possibly enlist someone to help you out, there was no way you’d be able to take care of something like this on your own, so you would get to work. Tomorrow, there would always be tomorrow. Your mind was hazy as you fought off the urge to sleep, but something about the fire opal called out to you, even in your sleep. 

Tossing and turning all night was something you didn’t do too often, but tonight, it was inevitable. A deep voice called out to you while warmth from your fingertips began to spread throughout your body until the voice became too unbearable and you awoke in a sweat. 

It had only gotten worse from there when you had decided to inspect it further without the proper tools, but your curiosity had gotten the better of you and you had peered through the jewel, catching glimpses of odd visions as you did so, causing you to gasp and look around the room in fear. Every day you had it in your apartment, you felt that it wouldn’t ever leave you alone and you needed to get rid of it. Thankfully you had worked alongside a very knowledgable and kind coworker who was also a part-time assistant curator. She would happily take the piece and have her manager inspect it, you would be sure to pay them well if she agreed to deliver it. 

After a few days, your coworker happily took the jewel and passed it on with every intention of returning it once their boss had looked it over. It had been about a week until it appeared on the news: “mysterious death at the local museum”. You felt extreme discomfort and didn’t know how to handle the news, so you had shoved yourself into work, but it had been difficult to focus with so many disturbing visions and echoing voices, calling out to you to ‘fulfill the prophecy’. 

You barely slept.

As time passed and the mysterious disappearance of the jewel still plagued you, one fine morning, you had been greeted to the sight of a new coworker in the office. Naturally, he was intimidating and rather charming to all of the other women in the office, but something about him called to you more than you cared to admit, though before you could continue your thoughts, your worst nightmare walked up to you.

“Hey Y/N, lookin’ beautiful as always,” Paul, your overly-flirty coworker greeted. 

You barely paid any mind to him since all he did was force himself onto you, always flirting and practically begging you to go out with him. You had been one of the very few people in the office he hadn’t slept with yet, and you’d just be another notch in his bedpost. 

“Hi, Paul,” you greeted absentmindedly, your attention focused on the new guy. 

Paul followed your gaze and scoffed. “Won’t last long, guy like him isn’t worth a damn thing. Besides, who needs him when you got someone like me?” 

The comment made you gag but you managed to keep your composure as you continued to fill out the paperwork you needed. “Yeah, sure,” you managed meekly. Your eyes flickered back up to the stranger, and to your surprise, his gaze was already on you. 

Shivers ran through your spine as your eyes connected and it was a feeling that was difficult to describe. It felt wrong, it felt unnatural, but overall and most importantly, it felt delicious. He was at your desk before you could even brace yourself, Paul had backed off due to just how intimidating his aura felt, though Paul would never admit it. The handsome stranger looked down at you with a chilling grin, his large hand held out for you, his fingers splayed. 

“A pleasure, I’m Nathaniel Demerest, but you can call me Nathaniel.”

You gripped his hand and shook it a bit too eagerly, but your smile was tough to hide. “Hey, I’m Y/N, a pleasure to meet you, too. You’re first day, yeah?” 

Nathaniel chuckled as he withdrew his hand from yours after a moment of lingering. “That easy to tell?”

“Oh well, I would have noticed you around…” you trailed off and looked into his beautiful blue eyes as you were swept away in them. You laughed nervously at your teenager-like behavior and looked away from him, your cheeks reddening. “Either way, welcome to the job.”

Nathaniel smirked and stared at you for a moment more, knowing that you were the waker of the fire opal, you were the one who would wish his kind into existence. But for now, he sensed your growing unease as Paul made his way back to your desk. His hearing permitted him to listen in on the conversation.

“Come on, why won’t you just lay off the new guy and come over to my place for dinner?” Again, Paul was overstepping. 

“I already told you, Paul, I’m not interested and I have a prior engagement,” you growled. Normally your anger was able to be kept in check, but Paul was relentless and it was eating away at you, and today was no exception, especially when you had wanted nothing more than to speak more to the new guy. 

You peeked up from your paperwork again and saw his intense eyes on you again, his gaze never faltering as you tried your best to keep your own on him. All you could do was offer him a soft smile and look down back at the stack of papers that you so desperately tried to focus on. Paul was across the way and chatting to someone else about something unimportant, his heart never really into the actual conversation with people, he would always put on a facade for everyone to view and take at face value. You knew better, you knew Paul for the disgusting piece of flaming hot garbage he was. What you weren’t aware of was that Nathaniel had his attention set on Paul as well, so once Paul decided to excuse himself from the office for his lunch, Nathaniel followed closely behind without a word. You watched as the two left after one another, your body easing from the tensity of the room as it faded once Paul left. You let out a sigh and leaned back in your chair, hoping that Paul would be out of the breakroom by the time you got there, so you would take it as slow as you could to make.your way there. 

When you finally did arrive to the breakroom, your eyes directed to the floor, you could feel Paul still sitting there, waiting for you. 

"Ahh there she is, was hoping we could sit together for lunch," he smiled up at you and it made your stomach twist. 

"No thanks," you replied without hesitation as you grabbed your food from the fridge and turned away to walk back out, but his hand was quickly on your wrist. 

"You know, this whole playing-hard-to-get-thing is getting a little tiresome, just give me the date already, Y/N, please?" He wouldn't let go of your wrist as he spoke, his words had a new edge to them and you were honestly feeling a bit nervous.

Nathaniel was still hanging around the doorway, his curiosity of you only made him want to stick around, but hearing the shit spewing from Paul's mouth was offensive and he would have no part in it. He stepped in and immediately snatched his hand from your wrist and pulled you to stand behind him, away from the danger he sensed in this man. 

"The hell are you doing, man? Not making a good first impression on me, pal," Paul spat as he quickly stood his ground, his glare focused now on the only threat standing between himself and you. 

You wanted to run and get away from whatever that was going to happen, but if the new guy was going to show Paul a thing or two, maybe it would be worth sticking around for. 

"You're making the young lady extremely uncomfortable, I figured I should step in before you do something you regret," Nathaniel replied coolly, his deep voice sending chills throughout you, “plus Y/N isn't an object, Paul." Nathaniel spat his name like it was venom on his tongue. 

Paul sneered up at Nathaniel and was ready to throw a punch at him, but the shift in the entire room changed on a dime. Once Paul threw the first hit Nathaniel caught it easily enough on his own, but both you and Paul hadn't noticed that the glamor was gone and standing before you both was someone that radiated so much power that it scared you. Your eyes looked up to see a creature there instead of the new guy, his hand still wrapped tightly around Paul’s fist. The man’s tough-guy demeanor had vanished and now he was absolutely terrified of the creature standing before him, but not you. You stood there in slight fear, but the absolute power that enveloped your mind and body was pulling you toward him, and now you knew where the voice had been coming from, the sheer energy already swaying you toward him. 

“What the hell, man?!” Paul cried out. 

“Do you wish for Y/N to accompany you on a date? Because I can make that happen,” the Djinn sneered, “it could definitely be your death date if you’d like,” he teased. 

Paul cried out in fear as he tried to yank his hand back, the power of the creature too strong for him to just simply break out of, so the man sunk to his knees and his eyes began to water. “Puh-lease! I’ll do whatever you want, please! Let me go!”

The Djinn looked over at you with an odd expression, his eyes still reflecting those of Nathaniel’s, which eased your discomfort in a way. “I will only allow it if Y/N wishes it,” he replied as his gaze was still fixated on you. You shifted and looked down at Paul, who also had been staring at you. His life was in your hands and you weren’t sure what to do in this situation, only that you wished deeply that you could take the step needed and silence the jerk.

“I wish that he’d leave me alone,” you said harshly and crossed your arms, your glare now looking up at the creature. “You’re not gonna kill him, are you?”

The Djinn chuckled darkly and looked at you with such adoration in his eyes, it pained him to lie to you, but you would appreciate it at some point or another. “No, no, my sweet angel,” he said smoothly, “only you will get your wish, though I feel you want to wish for more.”

“Let me go! I’ll leave her alone, I swear!” Paul begged again.

The Djinn was growing weary with him, but for now, he’d send the man halfway across the globe as his beloved wished, allowing her to be left alone and be around Nathaniel a lot more without interruption. The Djinn leaned in close to the stuttering man and smiled wickedly, his eyes bore into his own.

“You are quite a lucky man that Y/N is a kind individual, though if I ever see you around here or near her again, I will not hesitate to gut you where you stand if she wishes it. Have a good trip.” 

Lights in the room flashed and Paul was suddenly gone, only leaving Nathaniel back in his human guise and you standing close beside him. Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him, but he only smiled and took your hand in his, placing your knuckles against his lips.

“As you wished, he is unharmed but will no longer be bothering you again, Y/N, you have my word.”

You looked around the room and everything seemed to be back to normal, you hiding your smile as you turned away. “And what are we gonna tell the boss?”

Nathaniel shrugged as he stood tall before you, his smile growing. “Tell him Paul resigned.”

[deepeststarfishsong]

Gentleman

Quarantine has my days all out of whack, so we're starting on week two!

Written for @helianthus21, @pray4jensen​, & @bend-me-shape-me‘s #SPNStayAtHomeChallenge 13/04 Monday 2. Gentleman.

Cross posted to Ao3. 

Thanks to @beccawoof, my love, for the beta and for having casual expertise in SNP canon compliance.  

Nothing about today was especially unique. They had, for all intents and purposes, wrapped up a typical job without any momentous happenings. They were hunting a wendigo just outside the Wheeler County line but they’d been able to stick to the game plan more or less and no one had been seriously injured. Dean appreciated jobs like these. They could mark one in the win column and skip town without any additional feelings of guilt; no one died on their watch and they walked away without additional scars.

Bartlett, Nebraska had been a good four hour drive each way but the warm August evenings and the rolling green farmland made for excellent driving. Dean had rolled his window down and settled into the seat, enjoying the easy pace and casual way Sam turned in the seat to discuss the case with Cas. An hour into the drive back to Sioux Falls, Dean flipped on his indicators and pulled off the 281 to fuel up the Impala and load up on coffee.

While Dean fussed with the premium handle, arguing with the machine and its failures to read his card, Cas and Sam wandered into the station still deep in conversation about the authenticity of internet accounts of wendigo psychosis. Nerds.

As he hung up the pump handle, Sam returned to the car, coffee in hand. “Dude, where’s mine?” Dean huffed.

“This is yours,” Sam smirked at him, handing him the polystyrene cup with ‘Thanks a Latte’ printed repeatedly in awful Old English type. “I’m going to make an attempt at sleep.” Sam gestured towards the backseat.

Dean thanked him by way of a nod, and slid back behind the wheel. “If you start drooling on my seats, I can’t be held responsible for punching you,” Dean teased. Sam grunted from the backseat, shedding his flannel and scrunching it up into some semblance of a pillow.

Dean looked up as Cas opened the passenger door. “Unless I am mistaken, this violates Rule Three, Subsection Three of the ‘Official Rules for Shotgun,’’ Cas mused as he got in. Dean had to laugh. They’d drilled Cas on the rules of shotgun for fifty miles on the trip out and damned if he didn’t remember each of them.

“Yeah, prolly, but the giraffe clause can be superseded by the long haul exemption,” Sam chimed in from the backseat.

“Yes, I can understand why,” Cas replied, more to his coffee than to either Dean or Sam.

After they pulled back out onto the highway, Dean stretched in place, settling into comfortable highway driving, and leaned on the gas enough to hear Baby rev ever so slightly. “Hey Cas, want to pick a tape so we can tune out Sleeping Beauty’s snoring?” Dean’s smile reached his eyes when he looked over and caught Cas’ gaze.

Nodding, Cas opened the glove box and began sorting through cassettes. Dean enjoyed the careful, methodical way that Cas went about mundane tasks; he picked up each tape delicately, holding it aloft to catch the handwritten title in the light of passing cars, returning it to a neat stack when he wasn’t satisfied with his option. It was a reminder of Cas’ ethereal origins, different somehow from the hurried, clumsy way Dean typically did things like this.

“This will do,” Cas said as he ejected Led Zeppelin II and replaced it with one of Dean’s old mix tapes.

Nothing about this day was out of the ordinary. It hadn’t been particularly mundane or chaotic or exciting, but Dean could feel a sense of nostalgia washing over him. It was often the little, seemingly inconsequential moments like these that became his most cherished memories. Sam was asleep in the backseat, the soft sounds of his breathing a reassuring presence. Cas was staring out the window at the ever-darkening horizon of green patchwork farmland, nodding along to Rush’s ‘Spirit of Radio.’ They were heading home whole and successful after a job.

And it was in that moment that Dean realized he was in love.

The words coursed through him, sending tingles through his limbs and his heart galloping around his chest. Love.

Dean didn’t often feel at peace; his life had made sure of that. The memories of Hell, of Purgatory, of the shit they’d seen and ganked chief among them were enough to keep even a jaded hardass like him awake at night. And then there had been the other stuff: Lisa, Ben, Bobby, Jo, Ellen, Pam, even Benny. And so, Dean relished in the rare occasion that he felt at ease.

Dean flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, loosening the joints and jumpstarting the blood flow. A few months back, he’d been staking out a vamp nest for what seemed like forever. While he waited impatiently, he’d remembered that he’d lifted a few books from the Sonoma County Library. He’d pulled one from under the seat at random, more intent to have something to fiddle with than read, but he’d gotten sucked into ‘Invisible Monsters’ pretty quick. Even once he was back at the motel, he’d ended up staying awake until daylight reading. One line had stuck with him. “The one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person.” That sentiment struck a chord in the ever-present background noise of his self-loathing and he found himself reiterating it in his head from time to time.

In the privacy of his own thoughts, Dean had often wondered how this electric charge between him and Cas would resolve itself. Cas was his best friend, someone who he needed and trusted, and Dean had never been in a mindset to risk losing that for a ‘what if.’ All of the pieces that came with these feelings were messy. He’d practiced bits of these talks to himself. ‘Would you stay?’ ‘I’m bisexual, I guess.’ ‘Please don’t leave.’ ‘I need you.’ ‘Would it be okay if I loved you?’ Not that he’d had the nerve to risk saying them outloud.

And yet, there were these moments that fed the butterflies Dean was doomed to carry in his ribcage. They’d always shared knowing glances, it was fifty percent of their communication. They had always been tuned to one another in a fight, on a hunt. Dean had never been certain if it was just their ‘profound bond’ forged in Hell and acuminated in Purgatory or something more. Usually, he would diffuse the tension with inappropriate humor. It was always easier to say things half in jest, all in seriousness.

Dean glanced over at Cas again, who was still enthralled with the passing countryside. Before he could look away, Cas turned and caught his eye, a warm look of contentment written all over his face. Dean didn’t miss the whisper of a sigh or the careful uptick of Cas’ mouth when he smiled. Love.

When Dean reached over with his right hand, setting it firmly on Cas’ thigh just above his knee, he wasn’t plagued with indecision. He wasn’t cycling though self-loathing worst-case-scenarios. It just seemed like the right time. There was something simple about this moment, this day, that gave him confidence.

Cas let out a contented sigh, and overlaid Dean’s hand with his own, intertwining their fingers. Dean gave him a little reassuring squeeze and Cas scooted a little closer to him on the bench seat, getting comfortable. It doesn’t have to be hard.

With his free hand, Cas fussed with the stereo, skipping the songs he clearly knew were next. Satisfied, Cas leaned back into the seat, ran his hand up the length of Dean’s arm a few times, then settled back into holding his hand against his leg while the Impala’s aging speakers played Bon Jovi and Cas hummed along. Wo-ah, we're halfway there, Wo-ah, livin' on a prayer, Take my hand, we'll make it I swear, Wo-ah, livin' on a prayer.

At a rundown Flying J at the edge of Sioux Falls, Dean circled the Impala to hang up the pump when Cas walked up behind him, arms laiden with water bottles and cans of Red Bull. Dean sidestepped to open the passenger door for Cas who rewarded him with a blushing smile.

“You’re lucky to have such a gentleman,” mused an elderly woman at the next pump, giving Cas a huge grin.

“Thank you,” Cas returned her smile. “Yes, I agree. I am quite fortunate.”

From the backseat, Dean could see Sam barely suppressing an overjoyed smile. Smug bastard. “Don’t think I didn’t see that,” he murmured.

Sam gave up his self control, laughing audibly and gave Dean an encouraging smile. “You deserve this,” he said simply.

[dangan-happy]

Password: I want Mikan to have wheelies to escape her feelies (yeah, me too, Mikan)

To: Izuru, Celeste, and/or Mikan [TW for brief mention of d//ath due to c//ncer]

Hey there. It's me again, RiRi, and I'm back with more crap in my life. Hopefully, this will be more organized compared to my last one.

So this past weekend was okay (better than last week, at least), but today's already been a cruddy day (which most likely means that this week will be terrible as well). Considering my insomina is still terrible and my sleep schedule is nonexistent, I fell asleep at some point during my first two morning Zoom calls. Oh, but get this. My dumb ass woke up sometime after my second Zoom call officially ended, looked at the time, and thought for some flipping reason: "Oh, I'm done with my morning Zoom calls. I can sleep in now!" Yeah, plot twist: My dumb ass forgot about my third and final morning Zoom call, and instead of attending it, I straight-up fell asleep and missed the whole thing. So go me, I guess.

I saw my counselor earlier today, and well, I got two things revolving around that. For one, in the near future, I'll have to go from seeing her twice a week to just once a week (she explained why, but I don't wanna bore you guys with the details). And for two, we further talked from our last appointment, and from scrolling through the DSM-5 (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, 5th Edition), she came to the concluding diagnosis that I have Bipolar 1 Disorder (which I acknowledge and accept, as lots of certain things/experiences make sense now). And now, she wants me to try and step up by scheduling an appointment with my doctor for a mental health consult. She made it sound so easy, but my social anxiety and immense hopelessness is already making me decide to just... not make the call and forever sulk and rot away. Or to just hopelessly rely on my mom, who's too busy to really do much for herself anyway.

To (hopefully) wrap this up, my excuse of an uncle was supposed to leave either yesterday or today. Well, after connecting the dots, I realized why he's still here. A relative of mine passed away from cancer on Saturday night. I wasn't even close to her, we didn't love each other, so while the sympathy+empathy is there, I'm not emotionally affected whatsoever. But now, my excuse of an uncle is staying longer in order to attend the funeral, and now, I'll have to waste my time that could be spent on more important matters (aka school) at some funeral instead, which is slowly but surely building up anger within me.

Kind of like last time, not big on advice. I mean, if you have some crucial advice, then share away. But for the most part, I just want some comfort/reassurance, encouragment, and a hug or two. Sorry for another long ask from me, and I hope you guys have a good day.

Hello again RiRi, don't worry about being organized, your last ask was just fine, but I do appreciate the extra attention to detail. You're a lovely person aren't you? I am glad to hear that your weekend was better, although I am sorry to hear that things are less than wonderful for you now. Let's see what we can do about that, shall we? First of all, do try to keep a positive mindset. Just because one day wasn't the best doesn't mean that the rest of the week will be. Sometimes having that outlook actually can make things worse, just something to keep in mind. Oh dear, while sleep is good, that doesn't seem to be the best time for it. I would maybe talk to a medical professional, such as a sleep specialist to potentially help with that. Additionally, I would try to set alarms for each of your classes, so even if you do fall asleep for one, you'll wake up in time for the next one. Maybe you could also find a way to keep yourself awake during class, but just make sure it's a safe method, and it doesn't harm you.

Talking to a counselor is a wonderful thing my dear! Even if you have a lot of emotions surrounding the events, it ultimately is a good thing, and this will be very beneficial in the long run. I am pleased you have a diagnosis, as this can lead to more specialized treatment that will help you more than regular treatment. Yes, I do agree. Stepping up to talk to your doctor is the best next step. I'm sorry you're feeling anxious. If I'm being honest, you don't have anxious about if we're rationalizing things. By all means, don't rot away. You deserve so much better than that. If I could, I'd make the call for you to ease that anxiety. It does sound like this is something you'll have to do yourself, since you mother is so busy. I know you feel hopeless, but you're easily capable of this my dear. If you're confident enough to talk to me, you can talk to your doctor too. I count this as necessary advice, so do listen up. Perhaps write down what you want to say before hand, so you can just read that during the call instead of having to think of it as you're calling.

It sounds like you're not to fond of your uncle, so I am sorry to hear that. I am sorry for your loss, and while this may sound strange, I'm pleased to hear that you're not especially impacted by this emotionally. It doesn't make you especially cold or inhuman, you said you weren't close, so you're reacting perfectly naturally. I'm sorry your time is being impacted by this. I would try to alter your schedule until the funeral is over so you can maximize your work time so you can get as much done as you can. As hard as it is, try not to let the anger grow too much. Try to vent it, just get it out so it doesn't explode out of you. Yes, this is terribly inconvenient to you, but in reality, attending this funeral is the least you can do. This is a sort of closure, and even if you aren't especially impacted, it is a closure to this person's life, and as soon as it is over, your life can continue as normal.

Yes, all the advice I said here is crucial in my opinion, but I did try my best to keep it minimal. You most certainly have a lot on your plate, but I have complete confidence that you will do absolutely fine with everything. You're an intelligent, strong person, even if you don't feel like it. You have my full confidence that you can step up and handle any of this that's coming your way. Everything will be alright my dear. The funeral will be over before you know it. You will ultimately get help for the other things that plague you, and while it may take some time, you will survive this and come out stronger and better than ever. No need to apologize for the long ask. As you can see my answer is quite long as well. I'd be happy to give you two hugs! You can have all the hugs you want my dear, just ask. I hope you have a wonderful day too my dear, and an even more wonderful life.

[love-killed-the-superstar]

tw for mentions of death and injury for this one lads!! but on the flip side of that, i finally wrote actual cassunzel interactions, yaay

CASSANDRA APPRECIATION WEEK DAY 6 - FIGHT/BATTLE

Cassandra tries not to worry Rapunzel too much.

If she had it her way, Rapunzel would never have to know about a single dangerous situation she ends up in, whether its by accident or diving in with both feet. Unfortunately scars are telling, and if Cass doesn't give her an honest play-by-play Rapunzel will be up til the early hours in agonies over the dangerous life she is living out on the road. So, like a good girlfriend should, Cass measures the kind of exploits she should tell Rapunzel about in her letters with whether or not she has sustained injury. Anything more serious than a scratch and she'll tactfully leave it a secret until the next time she's within the palace walls.

So when she runs into Vex on the road a few miles north of Vardaros, she figures this will just be another one of those events that she'll paraphrase in a strait-laced letter to Raps. Perhaps she will share some good-natured sparring with the townsfolk, pal around with Vex, taste-test some fresh honey from Quaid; all the fun, low-stakes stuff. She only intends on stopping over in Vardaros to stock up on supplies and take it from there – but upon her and Vex arriving back at the sheriff's office, she's met with the sight of three men hanging from the bridge overhead, being fished down by stricken townspeople simply wanting to remove the sight lest it scare away travelling patrons.

“Raiders,” Quaid says solemnly from behind her, as Cass watches on in muted horror. Vex strides ahead, avoiding looking at the sight altogether. “We chased a group of them out of town two weeks ago. Yesterday they struck again, so I sent a trio of our new town guard to scope out their base. And, well... it looks like they wanted to send a message home this time.”

Cass feels sick to her stomach. She's no stranger to how fucked up the world can be, especially since striking out on her own, but this is something she can't simply stand by and watch.

“What's your next move, Captain?” she asks quietly, following him towards the sheriff's office. From somewhere beyond her line of sight, she hears a man crying as his husband's body is lifted down.

“We fight, of course,” he says gravely. He takes a seat at his desk and mops his brow tiredly. “But with three of our men down, I'm not sure how well we'll fare in the fight. Our town guard is small as it is, and those raiders are ruthless. But the people of Vardaros don't back down. Not anymore.”

“I... I could write back to Corona,” Cass says quickly, grasping at straws for a way to aid the situation. “The guard there is huge, I'm sure Eugene wouldn't mind deploying a dozen or so soldiers to assist...”

“Wow. And here I was, thinking you were the only one of your friends that understood how things work here,” Vex snorts, as the front door slams shut behind her. She stalks past Cassandra, leaning back against the wall with a deep scowl.

Quaid shakes his head and smiles wanly at her suggestion. “I don't need to tell you of all people that Corona to Vardaros is at least a four day journey on horseback. We have no time to waste. The next time they come knocking, we have to be prepared to fight, no matter the cost.”

“Then I'll fight.” Owl hoots nervously on her shoulder, and Fidella, though resting just outside, looks equally perturbed by the notion of sticking around. “Captain, I have been training for my whole life. Whatever these raiders have planned, I can at least help even the score.”

He watches her with narrowed, haunted eyes. “Your life will be at risk. This is no game, Cassandra.”

“Of course it isn't! People are being killed, Captain, you can't seriously expect that I would sit back and watch this happen?”

“I only insist that you understand what you're getting yourself into, Cassandra.” He folds his arms, regarding her in silence for several dragging seconds, all while Vex mutters some choice expletives under her breath. “If you understand that and still wish to fight alongside us... I would be more grateful than you'll ever know.”

“I'll do it,” Cass promises. “You can count on me.”

…

Things move quickly after that. Vex gathers the townsfolk in the square to rally the locals into fighting for what's right. The people of Vardaros, beyond infuriated by the hangings that morning, are already fired up and ready to fight. For her part, Cass runs through basic drills – calling for everyone to bring forth their weaponry, teaching basic attack stances, offensive and defensive manoeuvres, everything she thinks she can squeeze into an afternoon. The idea that she is potentially sending these people to their deaths depending on how well she's taught them is nothing short of terrifying; but Quaid seems relieved at her assistance, and takes the valuable time to discuss strategy with his remaining guard.

They will defend Vardaros at any cost. They surrender to nobody. And Cass can't help thinking, despite her willingness to fight alongside them, that this mindset coupled with the minimal planning and inexperienced fighters is how entire civilisations get wiped off the map.

That night, while the townspeople grab a few precious hours of sleep, uncertain of when exactly the raiders are planning on striking next, Cass finds herself restless. Despite Vex and Quaid's dual pessimism, she finds herself reaching into her satchel for a pen and paper anyway.

Hey Raps,

It's funny that I should write to you now, when I never like to worry you on my journey. But Vardaros is in trouble, and I think that if you wake Eugene as soon as you get this, send out a dozen or so men as soon as you can, you might just be able to help. The town is being threatened by raiders, and it's bad. I'm going to fight with them, but I don't know that we'll prevail. Not to be an alarmist, but please, send some assistance. I really think we'll need it.

Captain Quaid believes that Vardaros is beyond outside help, but all I've been able to think about today is something my father once said to me: 'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.' Well, here I am, trying to do SOMETHING. I only hope that it's enough.

I love you, and I don't want these people to die. I'll write again soon.

Sincerely yours, Cassandra.

“Owl,”  she murmurs, so not to wake Vex, lightly snoring against her shoulder. Owl looks up, eyes blinking rapidly. “I need you to get this to Corona as fast as you can. You know how important this is.”

She binds the letter and hands it over, and Owl bows his head a little, meeting her gaze. There's an unspoken feeling there – be safe, don't you dare get yourself killed – and then with a quiet hoot he launches himself from her arm, making his exit through a window pane missing its glass. She watches him until he leaves her sight and then exhales.

Well, if she does end up dying tomorrow, at least she can do so knowing she tried her hardest to help this town. And, a thought equally as comforting, she can accept dying as long as Raps knows she loves her.

All that's left to do now is shut her eyes and wait for sleep to take hold.

…

A lot of things happen that day, in the battle that historical records will one day refer to as The Great Strike Back of Vardaros. Nearly three hundred people lose their lives. Most of them, in a twist of events, happen to be the raiders.

The landslide victory comes without the help of any outside soldiers, save for one brave drifter who, despite the dismissal of the the captain, sent out a pleading message to the nearby kingdom of Corona the night before, begging for reinforcements. It doesn't bring any soldiers in time to assist in the fight; however, they turn up in spades to help the clean-up operation and bury the dead, all in awe at how well a small, untrained town of people could hold its own just out of sheer spite towards the enemy.

In Cassandra's case, the majority of this information is learned days later – when she awakens, weak and confused, in a dimly lit room that she soon comes to realise is one of the town's makeshift hospitals for casualties of the battle.

It takes a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to her surroundings, but when she finally tilts her head to the left hand side of her Cassandra spots a petite figure slumped back in a chair beside her, chest rising and falling as she dreams.

Rapunzel.

Cass lies there in stunned silence, unable to peel her eyes away from the sight of her girlfriend dozing beside her. It's almost enough to distract from the pain she's in, but as she grows more and more alert it's glaringly clear to her that something bad happened.

“Cass, you're awake!” Vex bounds over to her bed and Rapunzel snorts a little at the noise, eyes blinking sleepily, opening and closing a few times before ultimately closing again, losing their battle with the tiredness plaguing her head. The relief on Vex's face only makes it more obvious to Cass that the injury must have been pretty damn awful. “God, I – shit, it's good to see you're awake. How's your wound?”

“I... hmm. It hurts,” she grits out. “I, uh, don't really remember anything.”

“Yeah, I bet. You, uh, got hit over the head pretty hard in the fight. And, er... got yourself impaled on the way down.”

“Well, fuck.” Cass doesn't really know what else she's supposed to say to that. Now that Vex mentions it, she does remember the searing pain from the blow to the head. She's just grateful she was too out of it from the blunt force trauma alone to feel the impalement. “God. How'd I make it out of that one alive?”

“Quaid said you're just someone who isn't ready to die yet,” Vex says with a shrug. “Sounds like a total cop-out to me, but you're alive, so who cares how?”

“Seriously, Vex, I should probably be dead right now.”

“Then shut up and just be thankful that you're not.” Vex's eyes narrow, her patience for Cassandra's bewilderment waning already. “We patched your abdomen wound up fine, and we gave you some stitches on the back of your head too. That was like two days ago, though.”

Cass blanches. “Shit. Two days?” She glances over to Rapunzel, who is only just starting to wake up properly. “And when did Raps get here?”

“Few hours after the battle was over. She came in this huge balloon thing, you wouldn't believe it. She said the captain had to stay back to watch over Corona but she still brought like, eight guards with her in the balloon to help us treat the injured. Rapunzel barely left your side once she found your bed, though.” A sly smile creeps up on her. “Must be nice, having your girlfriend come to watch over you.”

“Can it, you.” Cass can barely keep her eyes off of Rapunzel, though, as she yawns and stretches. “Raps?”

“Mhmm... Vex?”

“That wasn't me,” Vex says flatly. With that, Rapunzel's eyes snap open and she whirls around to see Cass.

“CASS!! Oh my gosh, Cassandra!”

Before Cass even has a chance to try to sit up Rapunzel leaps from her seat, tackling her with such a force that it sends a spike of pain through her stomach, in what she guesses is the sensation of her wound being jostled. Raps squeezes her tight, rocking a little. Next come the kisses, peppered all over her face as she laughs weakly in protest. Vex makes an exaggerated puking sound effect, and Cass waves her off with a roll of her eyes. But as Rapunzel goes back to hugging her, resting her head against the crook of Cassandra's neck, she feels her body begin to tremble.

“Hey,” murmurs Cass, reaching up to rub Rapunzel's back in a soothing motion. “Hey, come on, it's all right.”

Rapunzel shakes her head, and her voice is wet when she speaks. “It's not all right! Cass, you could have died! You've barely been conscious for two days, my god!”

“Raps...” Cass gently steers her back by the shoulders and Rapunzel watches her, large eyes brimming over with tears. Reaching up, Cass thumbs them away and tries to smile in a way that will convince Rapunzel that she really is okay. “I'm all right now, really. Sure, my head is a little sore and I'll need to take it easy until my wound heals up, but look. I'm here with you now.”

Rapunzel sniffles and moves back, nodding. She pulls her chair right up close to the bed before sitting down again, reaching over to take Cassandra's hand in her own and turning to Vex.

“Vex. Would you mind, um... giving us a moment?”

“Oh, no problem, I was feeling queasy anyway,” she drawls. Despite her tone, Vex flashes them a small smile and nod before leaving to check on a man four beds to Cassandra's right. Cass exhales and squeezes Rapunzel's hand, pushing herself upright into a semi-sitting position. It's painful on her torso, but she just feels dizzier trying to hold this conversation lying down.

“I'm sorry for worrying you. I... I didn't think you would come, though. I only meant that we needed back-up out here.”

“I didn't come on official business, Cass,” Rapunzel begins, reaching up to wipe at her eyes again. “I mean, I came to help, of course, but – but god, Cass, how could you send that to me and not expect me to freak out?!”

“Uh.” Cass chews her lip. “I don't know. I hoped you'd overlook the part about me being there and just, uh, focus on the part about rallying the troops.”

Rapunzel sighs loudly, eyes still shining with tears, and Cass feels her stomach drop. Geez, Raps is still mad.

“Cassandra,” Rapunzel says slowly, as if to spell it out for her, “you wrote that you desperately needed reinforcements. You wrote that you were going to fight, but you weren't confident that you would win. And you actually wrote the words 'I love you'. In ink. In a letter that you knew I would be showing other people.”

Cass nods just as slowly.

“...Cass, it sounded like a goodbye! Don't you think? How did you expect me to – to just stay put, in Corona, knowing you were here and you might be dying?!”

“I said I'd write again soon,” Cass protests, but it's a weak defence and she knows it. “That part was supposed to be reassuring. I didn't want you to worry, but-”

“But you don't get to decide for me if I should be worried, Cass! We are in love, and if you think for one moment that I wouldn't come to you if I had even an inkling that you could be hurt...!”

“I know,” croaks Cass. “I know, Raps, shit. I know. I'm – I'm sorry.”

Now it's her turn to well up. She looks away, reaching up to wipe at her eyes, trying to make it look like she's fiddling with her hair. Rapunzel lets her keep her pride.

“I didn't come all this way to yell,” Rapunzel promises. “...Well, all right, I did a tiny bit. Cass, I know I can't tell you to stop doing this, I just want you to be careful.”

“I am careful, Raps, but these people were in trouble. Do you think I should have stayed out of it?”

“No,” sighs Rapunzel, shoulders slumped in defeat. “Of course not. Even if I did it's not your way of doing things, I know that. I would have done the same. It doesn't stop me from wishing you would value your life a little more, though.”

“I swear to you, I don't plan on getting myself killed when I get into fights like this,” Cass emphasises, reaching up to cup Rapunzel's cheek. “I'm sorry for scaring you.”

She leans forward and, with Rapunzel's eyes flickering to her lips receptively, kisses her softly. Rapunzel returns the enthusiasm and Cass realises, in a real moment of panic, that she might never have kissed Rapunzel again.

“I'm so glad you're okay,” Rapunzel whispers, before kissing Cass again. “I love you so much.”

“I'm really sorry,” Cassandra utters, trembling as Rapunzel pulls her in close. “And I love you too, Raps.”

[heaventoyou19]

A concept called Love

Growing up, Disney channel presented love to be this beautiful thing that’s obtainable when you have beauty, grace, a pretty face and a good heart with only an evil step mother or some witch as an obstacle. Looking back to when I first started dating, you can say that I was actively looking for Prince Charming to save me from my, oh –so-terrible life. I victimized myself and it wasn’t just because of the shows that my eyes and brain consumed almost daily… I also didn’t have the best role models growing up. That and I didn’t really have anyone to talk to about things encompassing love, what society deems attractive and horrendous, what’s actually right or the difference between love and toxic luggage. I had to run through a lot of case scenarios on my own to actually get an idea of all of this; and from what I can tell – love isn’t really worth the hassle.

I’ve been in relationships before and honestly speaking all throughout those relationships, I’ve only ever felt loved by one of them. Let’s call him, Zachary. He was my first love and I really thought that he would be my last. The only time I pictured my future to have more than just me, myself and I was when I see us marry each other. But that obviously, didn’t happen and what we had really set me up for actual character growth.

All throughout our relationship, we always had obstacles coming from both sides. By the end of our relationship, I was suffering in silence while he avoided me like a plague to solve his problems. He’s a great guy, but looking back, we were just too volatile and toxic for one another. He chose to end our little tango and I will forever be grateful for that. After months, almost eight actually, I realized how much love I was giving and pouring into his cup when my own neck was parched. I lost complete sense of myself and I truly didn’t have an identity because of how much I was breaking down every wall that I had just for him. I thought this was love.

I came to realize now after 19 years, 5 months and 2 weeks of living, how people truly navigate around the topic of love, entitlement, infatuations and lust; using myself as subject #1 under ‘people’.

Throughout my healing process I began to talk to my fellow peers to see if my situation was similar to theirs. Some were, but most had it worse than I did. Slowly I tried to get those peers to talk more. This gave me an insight as to how they managed their love lives; a limited scope but I take what I can get. Using my famous “you can trust me” frontier, you would be surprised at how quickly I could get someone to talk about what’s really going on in their romantic rendezvous. People are usually pretty reserved about the topic and want to maintain the “perfect for each other” exterior but I was really desperate for answers. It was a little manipulative on my part, but I really didn’t mean any harm when we had our conversations. After listening to their stories, I can tell that the one trait we have in common is that we love unconditionally – wait no, blindly. We let ourselves be stepped on like doormats thinking that this is love. Sacrificing our rights and literal self- worth is the measure of how much we love our person. In addition to this, the idea of wanting to complete and be the half of another literal person was something that kept popping up throughout our talks. So, by nature we have this need to fix someone and hence feel needed. And to that, we were legit smack talking their past exes and I’ve witnessed others literally gossip and complain away about their significant other. It got me thinking if this was what will naturally come with “Love”. Losing yourself, losing your cool and your head it’s… is this it? Is my self-worth and well-being worth that little to be traded with a problematic concept that just hinders a person from truly becoming the star that they are?

Sacrificing that freedom and the longevity of our sanity… is it worth it?

I used their stories as personal data to justify my prejudice on love. I wasn’t surprised when I found out that ‘Love” equates to “I want to be the reason why they change,” “they changed because of me,” and the “I’m the one destined to fix them.” As a friend, sister, cousin, girl fresh out of a relationship and  a fellow closeted rational – thinking human being, I can’t help but wonder why – why do we put a lot of significance in fixing someone? It’s not our responsibility to give up our freedom and put other people’s shit onto our plate. And yet, this is normal. Looking back to all of the Wattpad love stories I’ve read back in 8th grade, it was always bad boy meets good girl, good girl fell for bad boy, bad boy hurts good girl, good girl turn cold, bad boy suddenly realizes he loves good girl, bad boy changes for good girl and a whole dramatic sequence of finding true love at such a young age. This way of thinking is literally played out in movies, books, fanfictions and looking at the married couples around me, sometimes I wonder why they’re still together. It sounds harsh but really, it is mind bottling. These are two individuals who live completely different lives and time and time again, I had to watch them comply with the gender norms and get frustrated because of it. Succumbing to the mindset of how love works and how marriage works its… odd. We are expected to shed away our individualistic nature for a label that will only erase our names. If I get married it wouldn’t be, Lilac this or Lilac that- it would be X’s wife did that or Jane’s mother did this. Was all of this worth it for something as unstable as “Love”?

Reflecting on my relationship with Zachary, I realize I never truly needed him when I want to accomplish anything academically. The only thing that followed him each time he returns to my life was endless drama – not the good kind. So, in other words I could still hit great, grand milestones until my very last breath without him – and since he was my first love, then that meant I could breathe without “Love”.  Without love, I still have me, my thoughts and freedom which is worth more than just a concept that may or not be true. Something so changeable with time, that’s what “Love” is. Therefore, I stand by my words , “Love” whatever it is- it’s not really worth it.

[namjoontunes]

Lost and Found, Chapter Ten

BTS Members x Reader

Genre: Fantasy AU, Fluff, Minor Angst

Warning: N/A

Word Count: 1.7k

Author’s Notes: You guys are always so sweet in between updates T^T I may not respond to your comments but I always read them and they make me so happy

AO3

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Prologue || Most Recent

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"I think I underestimated how heavy all this food would be," Taehyung whined, dropping the picnic basket to the ground dramatically. 

"We've only been walking for ten minutes," Y/n pointed out, giggling as Tae gave an exaggerated sigh. "What did you pack in there anyways?"

"Well, I'm still not 100% sure of what foods you like and don't like, so I packed as much as I could," he responded, "but then Jimin saw me trying to shove a baguette inside so he helped me put an enchantment on it that makes it bigger on the inside."

"Wow, he can do magic like that?" She admired, walking over to the picnic basket to examine it.

"Yeah he's actually really good at magic," Tae said proudly. "But he gets shy about it, so he doesn't like showing off much."

"Well, you can do magic too, right? Can you make the basket levitate?" She asked.

There was a moment of silence as Tae stared blankly at the basket, and then turned his eyes to Y/n. “You’re a genius and I think I’m in love with you.”

She laughed, cheeks turning pink at his praise. “Well you probably would’ve thought of it eventually, but I love you too!” She reassured, watching as he sprinkled a glittering dust over the basket. She was so busy watching his magic that she hadn't noticed Tae's cheeks turning an identical shade of pink. A few moments after the dust settled the basket began to glow a soft green color and floated a few inches off the ground. Tae scooped it up with ease, satisfaction clear on his face. 

“Well, now that that’s taken care of, shall we continue?” he asked.

As they walked through the forest, Y/n would occasionally point out places she remembered from her time spent living there. She didn’t mention the bad memories, but she still found herself visiting those places, trying to replace those memories with happier ones of a hike with one of her best friends.

"Oh and this is where I got stuck in thorns for a full day!" Y/n explained excitedly, running over to examine a wild tangle of thorns. 

"A full day?! That sounds so painful…" He shivered just imagining it. 

She shrugged, plucking a raspberry off the vine and popping it into her mouth. "It wasn't so bad… the bush was just past its prime harvest period so the remaining berries had started falling onto the ground, so at least I wasn't hungry! My fur took forever to grow back though…" 

"Well Jin mentioned getting you a cellphone so if that ever happens again you can just call one of us and we'll get you out, okay?"

"Alright! But you gotta call me if you need help too, okay?" She asked, suddenly super serious in a way that made her look even cuter. 

"Deal," he agreed.

She gave him a big smile, and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug, which he returned eagerly. 

"Hey, I bet I can fly faster than you," she teased as she stepped away from him. 

"Oh you're on! Last one to the river is a rotten mushroom!" Tae declared, quickly zipping off in that direction as Y/n's now falcon-like form chased behind him, laughing the whole way. 

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

“Jin, have you seen Tae?” Jimin was standing in the doorway of the older boy’s room, his phone clutched nervously in his hand. “I’ve been trying to text him but he isn’t answering…”

Jin frowned, putting his own phone down. "He was doing dishes with Y/n a little more than an hour ago, maybe she knows where he went?"

"Oh… okay I'll ask her." Jimin answered, disappearing as quickly as he had arrived. It wasn't unlike Tae to go off to do his own thing, but he usually mentioned where he was going to at least one other person. Maybe he had remembered something he had to get done and had left in a hurry. 

Jimin came back a minute later, looking more distressed than he had been previously. "Y/n is missing too, and Hobi and Jungkook haven't seen either of them since breakfast."

"Well hold on now, it hasn't been very long since they were here so let's not officially call them missing just yet," Jin reassured. "Tae probably forgot to charge his phone again, but he can't be too far. Let's wait an hour or so and see if they come back, okay?"

Jimin nodded, looking a little calmer though not entirely at ease. Since they first became friends, Tae and Jimin had been pretty inseparable. If they weren't together then they usually knew exactly where the other one was, so Jin understood how this new uncertainty could be making him anxious. "You're probably right," Jimin replied, trying to convince himself to calm down. "At least they're together, whatever they decided to do…"

An unpleasant feeling settled into Jin's chest, but he quickly pushed it away. Of course Y/n would like spending time with Tae, she loved everyone in the house. Sure, Tae was the first person Y/n trusted enough to tell her true identity, but it didn't mean there was something else going on there. 

"Yeah… they're with each other so you don't have to worry so much, okay?" Jin reassured, patting Jimin's shoulder as he moved past him into the hallway. 

"Okay… but where are you going?" He asked. 

"Oh I just have to ask Namjoon about something," he responded nonchalantly. If Y/n was out of the house, it might be the only chance he'd get to have this conversation. "Why don't you go see what Jungkook's up to until Tae comes back?"

Jimin nodded at Jin's suggestion and disappeared to go find him. Jin still waited a few moments to make sure he was gone before entering Namjoon's room.

"Oh please, do come in. Thank you so much for knocking so you didn't interrupt anything important or catch me naked," Namjoon deadpanned as Jin walked in, not taking his eyes off his book. 

“Cut the sarcasm Joon, I need to talk to you about something,” Jin retorted, his voice low as he closed the door behind him.

Namjoon looked up at Jin, setting down his book as soon as he saw how serious the other boy looked. “What’s going on? Is it about Y/n?”

“Yes. Kind of. I need to ask you about something. Do you remember that night a few months ago, when we hadn’t given you enough to eat before the full moon?”

Instantly he could tell that Namjoon remembered. The way his concerned expression sank into guilt, shoulders slumped and eyes looking anywhere but at Jin, and how his fists gripped the fabric of his bed as if it were the secret he was desperately trying to keep in his grasp. He already knew what Jin was going to say next. He had realized it a long time ago.

“Don’t…” Namjoon whispered, voice soft and desperate, but also resigned, as though he knew there wasn’t anything they could do to fix what he’d done or keep the others from knowing for much longer.

Jin sighed softly, sinking onto the bed besides Namjoon, a comforting hand on his leg. “So you already figured it out?”

“That I attacked Y/n? That she almost died because of me? I-” His voice caught in his throat and he paused to collect himself. This was the first time he had actually vocalized the thought that had been plaguing him for weeks. Saying it out loud hurt more than he had imagined. “...I realized it when she first told us how she got hurt before coming here. As soon as she said wolf I knew it was me I...” Finally he looked at Jin, tears welling up in his eyes. “What do I do, Jin? I don’t want to scare her off forever, I don’t… I don’t want her to hate me..."

 Jin felt his heart ache as he pulled Namjoon into a hug. He wanted to tell him that everything would be okay, that Y/n was a forgiving person who wouldn't hold something like this against him. After all, it wasn't like Namjoon had been hunting for sport or had been in a clear mindset when he left that night. He was a wolf, and he was hungry. So he did what any other wolf would have done: he hunted.

He wanted so badly to tell him that Y/n would understand all of this and brush it off like it was no big deal. But… the truth was he didn't know how she was gonna react. It seemed like she loved living there and loved each of the boys, but she was still clearly on edge, always waiting for something to go wrong and ruin her dream home. And from what Y/n told them about her past, she also seemed like someone who's first instinct was usually to run away from danger to protect herself. 

"I don't know Joon…" Jin admitted, pulling away from him. "We still don't know her that well so I can't tell you how she'll react. But what I do know is that you need to tell her before the next full moon. It'll be easier for her to hear it from a friend than find out from seeing the wolf that attacked her."

Namjoon nodded solemnly, wiping the tears from her eyes. "How do I even start to tell her something like that? 'Oh hey by the way I almost killed you once but I didn't, are we cool?' Should I like… take her for a walk and tell her in priv-?"

"Nope nope absolutely do not do that one," Jin interrupted, shaking his head vigorously. "At best she will be nervous on the walk back and at worst she will assume you took her out there to finish the job."

"...Right." Namjoon agreed. He sighed and let his head fall into his hands. "I don't know how to do this Jin… I'm gonna fuck it up and we're never gonna see her again…"

Jin frowned, rubbing his hand along Namjoon's back. "No you're not, because we're gonna work together, and we're gonna figure this out, and she's gonna forgive you in no time, okay?"

"...Alright. I trust you Jin."

[peachandthefrog]

sweet surrender | jeff skinner

note: I’m not super in love with this piece and it’s a month overdue but I hope everyone enjoys it regardless!

word count: 8.7k

Valentine’s day as a single person was like fighting off the plague. Everywhere you went you were reminded of how miserably single you were. Or at least that was your mindset every year except this year. You were embracing your single life and treating yourself to what you know you truly deserve.

Which is why you were currently out shopping picking up all the necessary items you would need to spend your Valentine’s Day alone. You had your night completely planned out with a full course meal and the most expensive red wine you could find to fit in your budget. And after you wined and dined yourself, the plan was to take a relaxing bath, eat the dumbly expensive chocolates you bought, and catch up on some TV. It was going to be the best Valentine’s Day yet and you couldn’t wait to get home.

Pushing open the door to your apartment, you shuffle inside with the bags from the store hanging from your arms, and quickly set them on the counter, sighing in relief at having the weight lifted from your forearms.

Turning on a few lights in the kitchen, you move through the apartment turning on the lamps in your living room and turning the switch for the fake fireplace before turning on the tv to a low rumble in the background. Moving from there, you go to your room changing into a comfy shirt and shorts then making your way back to your kitchen to begin making dinner.

Before you can even unpack everything you bought, arms are wrapping around your waist and a scream is falling from your lips, heart ready to beat out of your chest. Until you hear those all too familiar giggles in your ear and feel curls pressed against the side of your face.

“What the fuck Jeff? You almost gave me a heart attack!” You cry, swiveling around in his arms, lightly smacking him on his chest. He tries to ward off your attack, but it’s useless with how much he’s giggling.

With your heartbeat slowing to a normal rhythm all you felt now was anger bubbling up to the surface. “God you’re so fucking ridiculous. I gave you that key for emergencies not so you could just barge in and scare the shit out of me.” You grumble, taking the rest of the stuff you bought and setting it out on the counter.

“But this is an emergency,” Jeff whines from behind you and you know without even turning around to look at him he has on his puppy eyes and pouty lips. And you hated that you were so gone for him that that move worked every single time.

You and Jeff had been friends for years having met during your college days. At first it was just hanging out with mutual friends around and then escalated to studying together and going to grab coffee before class which in turn led to you following him to Carolina and again to Buffalo after he got traded.

And somewhere along the way, you fell in love with him. It was a constant battle of trying to distance yourself so you didn’t get hurt and being the affectionate best friends you started out as. But getting your heart broken was inevitable when every few months Jeff would find a new fling for a little while and you’d have to just stand by and watch them be together. It’s not to say you weren’t happy for Jeff because you were, it’s just that the girls he was with weren’t you.

You’d tried dating but it never lasted past the first handful of dates. You’d bring someone home from the bar every now and then when you’d had a few beers after a big win for the boys, but it always ended with you waking up alone in your bed and a heavy feeling in your chest.

You were caught up on the curly haired, giggly boy standing in your kitchen and you would just have to deal with being “just friends.”

Turning around, you place your hands on your hips and raise your eyebrows waiting for Jeff to explain himself. You fight with yourself to ignore the puppy eyes and pouty lips and stay mad at him, although your resolve was quickly fading.

“I’m all alone on Valentines Day and so are you so I thought we could be alone together,” Jeff smiles, with a small shrug of his shoulders. You just continue to stare at him because that’s probably the cheesiest thing he’s ever said to you and you can’t seem to get your brain to work correctly to tell him he’s dumb.

“I brought wine?” Jeff says with an upward tilt to the last word making it sound like a question. You know what he’s doing. He’s trying to win you over; wine and Jeff were two things you could never resist.

“What kind of wine?” You narrow your eyes at him. He peaked your interest at wine but if it wasn’t a good bottle, you were considering sending him packing.

“It’s the expensive stuff. The one you loved that time we went wine tasting in Cali with the boys during bye week.”

You’d both been single then too, getting way too tipsy and hanging all over each other with a little bit of friendly flirting that drove everyone else crazy. It’d never amounted to more than that, though, things going back to normal as soon as you got home.

“Fine. But only because you brought me wine.” You recede, going to a drawer and pulling out some cutting boards.

“Now get your ass over here and help me cook.”

Jeff was surprisingly more helpful than you thought he’d be. Usually when you’d tried to cook and he was around it was an absolute disaster. He would try to steal food or he would spill something so you’d always have to chase him out of the kitchen. He was doing everything you told him to though generally being super helpful.

You were currently standing side by side, you chopping up vegetables while Jeff was busy seasoning the salmon you’d bought. Your arms were brushing every time you moved, goosebumps rising on your skin from the heat of his body. He had his tongue poked out in concentration and you were trying hard not to stare, but it was almost impossible to ignore.

Instead of dwelling on how hot your best friend looked, you decided to turn on some music, hoping to drown out your thoughts completely.

“Ooh I love this song!” Jeff exclaims, beginning to bop his head to the opening chords of Don’t Stop Believing.

“Everyone loves this song Jeff. It’s a classic.” You say, shaking your head at how much his curls were bouncing around as he moved his head.

“Yeah, but I think I love it more than them.” Jeff gave you an all knowing look, and you really just wanted to face palm at the memory he was talking about.

“Shut up. I was having a bad day and you kept buying me drinks. It was all your fault.”

“We had fun you can’t deny that. Until we got kicked out, but we still had fun.” Jeff smiles at you over his shoulder.

It was almost 3 years ago and he still wouldn’t let it go. You’d just moved with Jeff to Carolina, all of your stuff being sent out a few days before on moving trucks. You were supposed to have everything set, all of your belongings waiting on you when you arrived. But half of your stuff didn’t show up, having gotten lost on the way. You were frustrated and angry so Jeff took you out to a bar in hopes of cheering you up. The only thing he really did was get you drunk on beer and tequila. So drunk that when Journey came on, he convinced you to dance on top of the bar with him which led you to accidentally breaking a few things and spilling a drink on a hot guy sitting below you.

In the moment it was fun, until you got kicked out and were left with a nasty hangover the next morning. You would never live it down especially with the video evidence.

“Maybe but I’m still never letting you buy me drinks again.” You reply, beginning to season your vegetables so they could go in the oven with the salmon.

“Too late sweetheart.” Jeff giggles, holding up your empty wine glass, filling it to the brim for the third time tonight and tipping it towards you.

“God I hate you.” You groan, rolling your eyes with a smile, moving in front of Jeff so you could put your vegetables on the open pan space beside the salmon. Jeff decides then, to wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder with his cheek pressed against the side of your head. And you let him, on your way to tipsy from the wine, you just wanted to enjoy the moments you could with Jeff until he eventually found someone for good this time. You were holding your breath for when the time came and in the times between his flings and being single you were cataloguing and filing away moments just like this, committing them to memory, to hopefully lessen how bad it would hurt when he broke your heart for good. It was only a matter of time and you didn’t think you’d ever be ready.

“You smell really good,” Jeff mumbles, lips brushing over the shell of your ear until he’s nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. You only hum in response taking a sip of your wine, knowing you’d probably end up moaning if you opened your mouth and that’d be a whole other level of embarrassing.

Jeff stays attached to you, which is only slightly annoying, as you bend down to put the pan in the oven, pushing your hips back into him. You can feel as he tightens his grip around you until you’re standing up right again and he seems to relax as you set the timer on the oven.

“Jeff c'mon, you gotta let go.” You say, trying to pry his hands away from where they’re rested against the softness of your stomach, but he only tightens his grip pulling you flush against his chest, snuggling into your neck again.

“Two more minutes please.” His words are jumbled, every syllable brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck, sighing you rest your weight against him, relaxing into his hold, fully aware that he’ll whine until he gets his way. Jeff hums contentedly, before maneuvering your body until you’re chest to chest and he’s tangling a hand in your hair, pressing your head against his chest and you turn your head, nosing at the column of his throat. Closing your eyes, you relax further, settling into his warmth and enjoying the small circles his fingers were creating against your scalp.

And it’s nice, being able to do this with him, with no interruptions in the comfort of your own home. It seemed that this was your safe haven with Jeff or maybe it wasn’t the apartment at all; maybe it was Jeff in all his curly haired, dimpled glory. So often he’s gone on the road or with a girlfriend that moments like this are few and far between, but it never fails to make your heart race and your palms clammy. The way he made you feel was maddening and exhilarating all in the same sentence. You truly didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“J, it’s been two minutes,” you murmur, truly not wanting to let go. You were warm and comfortable in his arms, but you knew you couldn’t stay like this forever no matter how much you wished you could.

“I know.” Though neither of you take the initiative to move. Jeff is still massaging your scalp and you can feel his fingers flex and uncurl against your ribs several times before he’s pulling away, holding you at arms length as you stare up at him through your lashes, hands still holding against the small of his back.

“I need to clean up some so it’s not such a mess later.” You whisper, too scared you’ll break the softness of the moment if you talk any louder. Jeff grins, dimples shining through a sparkle in his eyes.

“Yeah I guess we should do that together huh?” Jeff concedes, shrugging his shoulders.

And for whatever reason that’s the funniest thing to you and you can’t help but burst into giggles, falling forward and resting your forehead against the center of Jeff’s chest, trying to hide yourself in his shirt. You can feel Jeff giggling from above you with his chin on top of your head and you’ll never get over how sweet that sound is coming from him.

“Come on crazy girl. We have dishes to do.” Jeff presses a kiss to your temple, giggles dying down enough that he takes your hand and drags you over to the sink.

It’s a process it seems, to get the water started and the dirty dishes gathered up when all Jeff wants to do is try and spray you with water and make a mess of your kitchen floor. But you get it together eventually and as punishment Jeff gets to wash while you rinse.

You kind of feel bad there are so many dirty dishes but you’ve been so busy with work that you just haven’t had time to do them. Jeff doesn’t seem to mind though, as he knocks his hip into yours, throwing you a soft smile that turns your insides to mush.

Glancing at Jeff out of the corner of your eye, his tongue is poking out of the corner of his mouth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he scrubs a pot clean and you can’t help but wonder.

“J, so what happened with you and …?” You falter, drawing a blank as to what the name of his last girlfriend was. It’s not like you should really know her name, he didn’t bring her around much, opting to only bring her around the boys and their significant others. Which makes sense you guessed, you weren’t one of them, nor would you ever be.

“Ashley.” Jeff fills in for you, handing you the pot he had been cleaning so you could rinse the bubbles away.

“Yeah, so what happened with you two?” You ask, truly unsure if you even wanted to know the reason they’d broken up.

“We just had our differences and collectively decided to end things. No hard feelings.” Jeff shrugs, seeming to feel indifferent about the whole situation. It was almost unsettling since he’d spent over three months with the girl. You weren’t going to question it further though.

“Oh. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” You were lying straight through your teeth. And you felt bad that you were almost happy he had broken up with her and all of the ones before that, but you couldn’t help it. It was heartbreaking watching your best friend be in love with someone that wasn’t you. It was selfish of you, you knew that, and yet you relished in the relief that he was single and you’d have him to yourself for a while.

“Don’t be. It’s okay.” Jeff shoots you a soft smile and you can’t help but feel a smile spreading your cheeks, until you see a glint in Jeff’s eyes from your peripheral.

“Jeffrey, I know that look. Don’t you dare,” You warn, taking a step back from the sink.

Your warning falls on deaf ears as Jeff giggles, scooping a handful of bubbles and throwing them at your head, the heap falling miserably on the center of your chest, completely missing their target. You gasp, staring at a doubled over man crying with laughter.

Smirking you stick your hand in the water, splashing bubbles and water out over the side of the sink, the mess falling directly over the back of his head and now it’s your turn to laugh at the horrified look on Jeff’s face as he picks up his head and runs his fingers through his now soaked hair.

“Oh now it’s on.” And you’re screaming, running away from Jeff who has a huge handful of bubbles cradled in his hand ready at a moment’s notice to throw them at you. Except it kinda fails, the bubbles blowing away as soon as he walks more than a few steps. You can’t help but giggle at the disgruntled look on his face as he circles back around to the sink, shoving his hand in the water and pulling out a few more bubbles.

“Don’t fail me bubbles. We have some revenge to complete.” Jeff whispers to his hand, glancing up at you momentarily before saying something else inaudible to his hand. You’re crying with laughter at this point, your stomach muscles cramping at how hard you’re laughing. Jeff got a little crazy when he was tipsy, albeit it was often times your favorite Jeff.

Your laughs die away almost instantly as you feel the cold soapsuds painting your cheeks and the warm press of Jeff’s body against your side.

“Jeff..” you’re whining his name long and drawn out, turning and wiping your cheeks on his t-shirt. He only laughs, cradling your head to his chest as you nuzzle further into his warmth.

“Oh my god!” Jeff exclaims, pulling away and holding you at arms length as the next song starts. You smile, turning around and grabbing two spoons handing one to Jeff with a wink.

“I could stay awake just to hear you breathing.” You and Jeff sing dramatically into your spoons, dancing around the kitchen in your own form of freestyling, although to a sober person your moves would be characterized as typical “white girl” dancing. You can’t help but giggle as Jeff attempts what looks like twerking, but with the size of his ass he only bumps into one of your bar stools, knocking it to the floor. His cheeks flush pink, shyly smiling at you before setting the stool upright again. You move together in time for the chorus, linking arms and circling around a single spot on the floor as you essentially scream the lyrics in each other’s faces.

Out of breath, Jeff never having seemed to adequately build his stamina up over the years (you’d never let him live that video down), drops his spoon, looking at you, he takes your spoon, throwing it to the floor as well, shrugging his shoulders with a sly smile. Jeff pulls you close, wrapping an arm around your waist and taking his free hand in yours, holding it up in a slow dance form.

Jeff sways the two of you, his head pressed to the side of your cheek so he can softly sing in your ear. You can’t help but feel your cheeks get hot as your heart skips a beat in your chest. You try to choke down every thought, feeling, and emotion that was fighting its way to the surface, refusing to acknowledge this felt like more than two tipsy best friends dancing in a kitchen. Jeff was warm and solid against you and you tried to focus on that to keep yourself grounded. It was hard, though, to not get distracted by his voice or the way his breath hit the shell of your ear and sent shivers down your spine.

“I don’t want to close my eyes. I don’t want to fall asleep cause I’d miss you babe. and I don’t want to miss a thing.” Jeff sings softly, taking your hand and spinning you away from him during the next stanza, and you feel giddy inside, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much. Jeff pulls you back, so you’re rested tightly against him, his forehead pressed to yours as he sings the last lines to you.

“Cause even when I dream of you, the sweetest dream will never do. I’d still miss you babe and I don’t want to miss a thing.”

Jeff is out of breath from singing and so are you, but from an entirely different reason. He’s just so close and you feel like you’re swimming in molasses as you look at him. You’re breathing heavy, feeling Jeff’s own ragged breathing fanning over your cheeks. He smells like wine and if you weren’t intoxicated already you would be just from being this close to him.

Jeff’s eyes flicker down to your lips before his eyes settle back on yours. You can feel your hands get clammy and your heart pounding as it seems like time stands still. Then Jeff is tilting his head and leaning in. You feel like your heart is in your throat, eyes involuntarily closing. You can feel how close he is, his breath brushing over your lips and you know if you leaned up on your toes you would be kissing him and it kind of makes you want to throw up. Jeff’s grip on your waist tightens as he leans in farther and you feel the slightest brush of his lips. Suddenly the timer goes off and you’re ripping yourself away from him, rushing over to the oven to turn off the timer and grab an oven mitt to take the pan out of the oven.

You can feel the hotness in your cheeks and you wish it was just from the rush of heat to the oven and not at the fact that you had almost kissed your best friend in your kitchen.

“Hey J, can you get me two plates?” You ask, offering him a closed lipped smile as he hands you them, ushering him to the other side of the island to sit down. You were trying to distract yourself. Pretend it never happened. Ignore the butterflies and anxiety swirling around deep in your belly.

And really you usually made him serve himself because he was a big boy and could handle it on his own, but you needed a minute to breathe without him two steps behind you. Your mind was racing. 

Dishing out everything onto plates, you take a few moments to breathe, plastering on a smile as you turn and set Jeff’s meal in front of him.

“This looks delicious. Thank you!” Jeff fills your wine glasses again waiting until you sit down with your own plate before digging in. You’re too distracted to eat anything so when Jeff nudges you with his elbow, your head snaps up to meet his concerned gaze.

“You alright?” Jeff asks, eyebrows raised, gesturing to your plate. You look back at your plate continuing to push around your food, torn between asking Jeff what the hell just happened and forgetting it, pushing it down until it would eat you alive inside.

Your head was swimming. Jeff had never shown any interest in you before. You wanted to just write it off as him being too tipsy to know what he was doing even though subconsciously you knew he wasn’t drunk enough to not have any control over his actions. You’d seen that version of Jeff and the one sitting in front of you and the Jeff standing in your kitchen that had almost kissed you, wasn’t drunk nor was he close to being drunk.

The man you had loved for years, had almost kissed you. It was making your head spin.

Jeff takes your hand, pulling you out of your head. You focus on how his thumb runs across your knuckles and if you weren’t so caught up in what had just happened you would’ve fully grasped his hand and squeezed it.

“Hey, if something is wrong, you know you can always tell me, right?” Jeff says softly, dipping his head to try to catch your eyes but you can’t find it in you to look up at him. You’d lose all train of thought and say something stupid or nothing at all if you saw the concern set deep in his eyes or the fluttering of his eyelashes.

Sighing, you take a deep breath, pushing your food around your plate while you build up the courage to ask what popped into your head ten minutes ago, knowing you couldn’t look at Jeff when he inevitably shot you down and made an excuse for what happened.

“Why did you try to kiss me Jeff?” and it’s silent save for a song you don’t know the name of playing in the background. You spare a glance up at Jeff and his mouth opens and closes many times. You can feel your emotions get the best of you and maybe after all this is over you can blame it all on the wine and things will go back to how they used to be.

Ripping your hand away from Jeff, you push up from the table to finish cleaning up the dishes wanting to just go back in time and not let Jeff stay for dinner so none of this would’ve happened in the first place.

“Hey, no. Come here!” Jeff calls out to you, reaching for your hand only nearly missing your fingers as you walk to your sink. You can feel him lingering behind you, though, you ignore him, trying to pretend you were cleaning up when the only thing you were really doing was trying to hold back tears.

“No, Jeff. It’s fine. You’re drunk and lonely. I get it.” You say with a shrug. “Just a spur of the moment thing that we can now put behind us.” Your heart was literally aching and your hands were shaking with the force that you were using to stay calm about this all. You didn’t want to lose him over something as stupid as an almost kiss.

You were seriously trying to rationalize the situation because even if you were so in love with Jeff that sometimes it hurt, you valued what you had with Jeff too much to ruin it over you overreacting about something that didn’t even happen.

“What? No-”

“You need to leave.” You conclude deciding it would be best if you spent some time apart. You just needed time to be alone. To think things over.

“Y/n please just listen.” Jeff pleads and you can feel his fingertips brush over the back of your arm.

“Listen to what Jeff?” You ask, exasperated and frustrated, turning around from the sink, trying not to cry. You were face to chest with Jeff and it took your breath away, not expecting to be so close to him. You wanted to touch him and not have your heart feel like it was going to fall out of your ass. Sometimes you wished you had never fallen in love with him. Everything would be so much easier.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Jeff explains, reaching out for your hand, but you jerk it away, noticing the flash of hurt in his eyes. If he touched you, you’d fall apart right then and there.

“What? Didn’t mean to get drunk and play with my feelings like that?”

Jeff is silent, looking at you and you can see in his eyes he’s trying to figure out what to say, how to fix this. You wanted to hug him and forget about everything but your dumb brain couldn’t let this go.

“That’s real fucking rich Jeff. It makes sense I guess. I’m not one of your flings and I sure as hell don’t look like any of them. I’m curvy in all the wrong places and men don’t look my way twice so why the hell would I ever expect you to-” he cuts you off.

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU GOD DAMN IT!” Jeff yells, his chest heaving as he waits for you to say something, anything. All you can do is stare at him, your brain short circuiting. You don’t know what to say.

“Do you want to know why none of my flings never amount to anything more than that?” Jeff asks incredulously and you nod, almost scared to hear the answer.

“Because I’m so fucking in love with you that none of them are ever good enough to compare to you. They’re not you and it’s hard to want anyone else when all I can think about is you. And they notice too. God everyone notices. Everyone knows i’m so fucking in love with you but the one person I wanted to know has been standing in front of me for years and I’ve been too dumb and scared to tell her how I feel.”

Jeff is shaking his head at himself and you could honestly cry. How had you not noticed this all those years ago? 

“Jeff I didn’t know you felt like that. I’m so sorry.” You apologize, taking a tentative step towards him. You wanted to fix this and tell him exactly how you felt but the words seemed to get stuck over the lump in your throat.

“Yeah well, now you know. I- I guess I’ll just go.” Jeff gives you a sad smile, before turning with his head down to walk out of your apartment. You can’t seem to snap out of it, staring at his back as he leaves the kitchen. And once you can no longer see him, you realize this is what it would be like to not have Jeff in your life and you heart feels like it’s going to fall out of your ass and come up your throat all at the same time.You never want to experience that. He means too much to you to let him go this easy.

“Jeff wait!” You call, running to stand in your hallway, smiling so wide your cheeks hurt as he turns around, taking his hand off the door handle.

“I love you too.” You confess with shaking hands and a misting over your eyes. You watch as Jeff’s face goes from confusion, to realization, to joy as he’s rushing forward, moving to grab at your waist, your hips, any piece of you he can get his hands on.

“Really?” He asks, eyes wide the inklings of a smile beginning to form, squeezing your hips and pressing himself as close as he can get to you.

“God I’ve been in love with you since college.” You admit, looping your arms around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair. Jeff is smiling so wide his eyes are crinkling and his dimples are showing as he rests his forehead down on yours, complete and utter relief radiating from him.

“Ya know, if it makes you feel any better, I’d kiss you the same drunk or sober but I’d really like to kiss you now.”

With a slight nod of your head, Jeff is leaning down pressing his lips to yours. And it’s so good, everything you’d ever imagined and more and he tastes like red wine and Jeff and you couldn’t be more happy.

Reluctantly you pull away, taking a moment to catch your breath and appreciate the beautiful man standing in front of you. You’re so giddy and happy, almost unable to believe all of this is happening, that you can’t help but break out into giggles, Jeff following almost immediately.

Sobering up, you admire the view, rubbing your thumb over his cheek, just appreciating the red flush that has appeared in the past few minutes.

“You really did ruin my Valentine’s Day plans though.” You comment, leaning up to peck Jeff on the lips.

His eyebrows are furrowed when you settle back on the balls of your feet and it’s truly the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. You can’t help but bring his head down to your level and kiss the crease between his eyebrows, smiling when he wrinkles his nose at the gesture.

“I had it all planned out. I was gonna cook myself dinner and after take a bath and eat the stupid expensive chocolate I bought and drink my cheap wine and just relax.”

Jeff is grinning at you devilishly, pulling you closer and speaking low in your ear. “Don’t let me get in the way of your plans babe. Let’s go take that bath.”

Glancing back at your abandoned plates and dirty dishes piling up in your sink, you quickly decide this can all wait until the morning. You have more important things to attend to.

Taking Jeff’s hand, you grab the things you bought at the store, making Jeff grab your glasses and the bottle of wine, dragging him along with you to the bathroom.

Jeff can’t seem to keep his hands off of you or his lips for that matter so you move around the bathroom with him practically attached to you. Getting the bath water started with some bubbles and a bath bomb you spent way too much money on, you hand Jeff the bouquet of red roses you bought.

“Here, take the petals off these and throw them in the water please.”

Jeff gives you a funny look, but does as you ask anyway, pulling the petals off one by one. You’re preoccupied with lighting candles and setting up the show you’d queued up so when you hear Jeff talking you’re a little surprised. Turning around Jeff is sitting on the edge of the tub, smiling at you like crazy, a softness in his eyes that you’ve only ever seen him give to his mom.

“She loves me,” Jeff says, pulling a rose petal off the stem and dropping it into the water. Pulling another off, “She loves me not.” Jeff frowns completing the phrase, dropping the petal into the water with disgust. You watch him in awe, feeling your heart flutter every time he says the beginning of the phrase and covering your mouth to suppress a giggle as he finishes the old school saying with a look of disgust on his face.

As fate would have it, there’s one petal left when Jeff stands up, coming to a stop in front of you where you’ve been leaned against the sink for the past few minutes watching him. He glances down at the single rose petal, a softness to his features as he looks down at you. “She definitely loves me.” He whispers, dropping the petal to the floor. You’re distracted watching it flutter to the ground, but Jeff pulls your attention back to him with a finger under your chin, tilting your head up.

Jeff’s cradles your face with his fingers tangled in the hair at the base of your skull with his thumbs sweeping over your cheeks and brushing your hair away from your face. Looping your arms around his waist, you pull him close so his hips are pressed against your stomach, intoxicated by the press of his body on yours.

Jeff looks at you, his eyes twinkling as he leans forward and kisses your forehead, resting his lips there momentarily while you close your eyes and enjoy the soft moment. You could do this for the rest of your life and never get tired of it. Never get tired of Jeff.

And it’s like you’re moving through honey, soft and sweet, as Jeff tilts his head and molds your lips together. And it’s a slow make out session, neither of you in a hurry to take things further. You’re making up for lost time with no semblance of what’s to come next and it’s nice to live in the moment and not worry about what the future holds. Any future with Jeff in it is one you’re excited to be a part of.

You move your hands to the waistband of Jeff’s pants, pausing there, waiting for permission which Jeff gives to you in the form of a hum, never breaking your lips apart. Untying the strings of Jeff’s sweatpants you push them down over his hips, taking his boxer briefs with them, letting them drop and pool at his ankles. He steps out of them, moving to take your own shorts and panties off together, letting them drop and holding you close so you can step out of them.

Sliding your hands underneath Jeff’s t-shirt, you feel the hardness of his abs under your fingertips, forcing yourself to hold back a moan at how fit he actually was. He takes the hint eventually, pulling away to tug off his shirt, smiling at you as he reaches for the hem of your sleep shirt, helping you pull it over your head. Jeff audibly sucks in a sharp breath as he rakes his eyes over your body and you almost move to cover yourself, remembering the times when the looks you’ve received about your body weren’t so nice, but before you can Jeff is squeezing at your hips and your ass, crowding close to you. “God you’re so beautiful.” Jeff whispers against your mouth and it makes your heart flutter feeling like it’s going to beat out of your chest. You felt like you were soaring.

Pushing lightly at Jeff’s chest, you disconnect from each other, taking a moment to soak in everything you’re feeling. “C’mon lover boy. I’m cold and that warm bath is calling our names.” You tease, pushing Jeff towards the bathtub, leaning over to turn off the water now that it’s full enough and you swipe your hand through the bubbles and flower petals, testing the temperature.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You hear Jeff swear behind you and you look over your shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You can’t just bend over like that and not- I - fuck.” Jeff was stumbling over his words as he flicked his eyes over your body torn between looking at your eyes and your ass and undoubtedly your breasts. You couldn’t help but giggle, glancing down and seeing his cock semi hard hanging between his thighs and it makes your mouth almost water.

“C’mere.” You say, making grabby hands at Jeff until he’s within touching distance and you can wrap your arms around his neck, pecking his lips a few times, before patting his chest and telling him to “get in.”

Jeff steps into the bathtub, sinking down into the water until his chest is half covered and he offers up his hand to help you step in. It’s more slippery than you expected and you foot slips sending water sloshing out over the sides, causing both you and Jeff to giggle uncontrollably.

Eventually you’re sitting between Jeff’s legs, settling back against his chest, relaxing into his hold. Reaching over to the table you’d set up beside the bath, you press play on the show you’d picked, taking a sip of your wine, settling the glass back down as the show began to play.

You only got halfway through an episode before Jeff began pressing kisses along your shoulder and up the side of you neck. You tried to ignore it, but it was quite obvious how much you were affected because your grip on Jeff’s arm that was wrapped around your tummy had significantly tightened as he continued kissing you anywhere he could reach.

“Jeff stop, you’re distracting me.” You complain, almost in a whine. And if you were being completely honest you didn’t really want him to stop. It was more of a principal thing because you’d agreed to take a bath and watch TV and drink wine and he was breaking your agreement.

“Hmm.” He only hums, pressing more kisses along your jaw until he’s eventually sucking and biting marks into your skin.

You can’t help but throw your head back against his shoulder with a breathy moan as he finds your sweet spot, sinking his teeth into your skin and soothing it with his tongue.

Jeff’s hands move around your body, just exploring, moving over the expanse of your thighs and hips until his hands move up to your chest, squeezing your breast in his palm, fingers tweaking and pulling your nipple until it’s hard and you’re buzzing from your head to your toes.

Shifting, more water sloshing out over the sides and onto your floor,you grip Jeff’s thigh under the water needing something to hold on to while he plays with your nipples.

You can only handle so much stimulation to your nipples before you’re ready to jump his bones, unable to ignore the throbbing in your core any longer. Sitting up, you turn around until you’re straddling Jeff as best you can, and it’s easier than expected, happy that you’d decided to purchase the biggest bathtub you could afford at the time because it was finally coming in handy.

“God you’re so beautiful. How’d I get so lucky?” Jeff murmurs, leaning up to press his lips to yours again with such force that you have to grip his shoulders to keep from falling back into the water.

Jeff’s tongue sweeps over the seam of your lips, seeking entrance into your mouth, though you deny him wanting to tease him a little bit. Jeff huffs against your mouth, squeezing your ass in his hands, pulling you close enough that you can feel his semi-hard cock against the inside of your thigh, that elicits a small moan from you, enough that Jeff bites down on your lip, sucking it into his mouth before letting go. And it’s probably the hottest thing any man has ever done to you, so when Jeff swipes his tongue across the seam of your lips again you allow him to go further, letting him lick into your mouth, sliding his tongue over yours.

It doesn’t last nearly long enough, Jeff pulling away to kiss along your jaw and down your neck, biting small marks into your skin as he moves lower down your neck, over your collarbones and shoulder, before he’s swirling his tongue around a nipple, eliciting a breathy moan from your lips. You cradle his head to your chest while he works your opposite nipple between his fingers, rolling and tugging the bud until it’s peaked and sensitive, your core throbbing at the smallest touch.

“Jeff please,” You moan out, reaching between your bodies to grasp Jeff’s hard cock, tugging it a few times, until he’s moaning into your chest.

“Fuck baby,” Jeff moans, leaning up to mold your mouths together again. Jeff shifts, sitting up more, moving you with him, his hard cock brushing against your core, causing both of you to let out swears. Jeff’s leg moves and you hear the all too familiar sound of the tub draining but you couldn’t care less as Jeff’s hand moves between your legs, his fingers easily finding your clit.

The water is completely gone from the bathtub and you can feel rose petals sticking to your skin, an unexpected moan falling from your mouth as Jeff’s finger slips inside you. Your head falls back as Jeff inserts two fingers, fucking them in and out of you, curling them on every in stroke, pressing against your g-spot. You can feel your orgasm building quickly in the pit of your belly and you move your hands from where they were around Jeff’s shoulders to grasp your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers.

“Fuck that’s hot.” Jeff comments, fucking his fingers into you faster, thumbing your clit with his other hand.

“Jeff please,” You plead, head thrown back. You were so close, could feel it in the way there was a thin sheen of sweat over your body and how your toes tingle and curled with every movement of Jeff’s fingers.

“Come on babe. Cum for me.” Jeff says, his voice gravelly and thick and that’s all it takes to push you over the edge, your body going stiff as your orgasm crashes into you, your mouth open in a silent moan.

Jeff’s fingers are still moving inside you, prolonging your orgasm, until you have to push his hand away, your walls fluttering around his fingers to the point you’re so sensitive that you could easily be pushed into another orgasm if Jeff moved his fingers just right.

You’re breathing hard, chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to catch your breath. You stutter in your movements, watching as Jeff sucks his fingers into his mouth, cleaning your cum from them, eyes closed as he moans around the taste of you. The sight alone makes you wish he had shoved his fingers in your mouth instead.

“You taste so good babe.” Jeff comments, licking into your mouth and you taste yourself on his tongue, a whine rising in the back of your throat, your cunt beginning to throb with need.

“Jeff,” You whine, circling your hips, seeking any sort of friction for your throbbing pussy, a high pitched moan slipping from your mouth when Jeff presses the pad of his thumb against your clit.

“Tell me what you want baby.” Jeff murmurs, words mumbled against your skin as he licks over your pulse point, soothing the mark he’d undoubtedly left there with his teeth.

“I want- fuck.” Your thought dies short as Jeff slips a finger inside you, slowly twisting and moving the digit inside you, your nails leaving crescent shapes in his bicep where you’d gripped his arm on reflex.

Jeff hisses with the bite of pain in his arm, his finger stilling in you long enough you can think straight and release the death grip you had on his arm. You tug on Jeff’s hair until he moves his head away from your neck, pulling his head up to your lips kissing him.

“I want you to fuck me.” you whisper against his mouth, sighing when he pulls his finger from you to grip your waist and his cock slides against your wet folds.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous baby,” Jeff whispers, burying himself inside you, both of you groaning at the feeling.

Jeff’s movements are slow as he grinds up against you, the bathtub making it hard to move in such a confined space but that makes it all that more intimate. With your foreheads pressed together, you cant your hips down, clit catching on Jeff’s pelvic bone, a breathy moan falling from your throat.

“So good for me darlin’,” Jeff mumbles, kissing you open mouthed and needy, stealing your breath away until your lungs are burning with need.

Jeff shifts changing the angle so the head of his cock is brushing against that special spot that makes you see stars, sweat breaking out over your temples, tingles shooting down from the base of your skull to the bottom of your spine, making you dizzy.

“Oh fuck,” you swear, holding on to Jeff’s shoulders, arching your back, pushing yourself closer to him. He takes the hint, taking your nipple in his mouth with the blunt edge of his teeth sliding over your sensitive skin, drawing a high pitched whine from you.

Pulling away, Jeff brushes his thumb over the curve of your breast, so gently that you clench around him suddenly closer to an orgasm than you’d previously thought.

“Are you close?” Jeff asks, grunting as you clench around him, his own orgasm fast approaching.

“Yes, Jeff. Please,” you beg, pressing your hips down, chasing your orgasm. Jeff searches out your clit, easily finding it and circling it with his thumb.

“I’ve got you. Come for me,” Jeff whispers, pressing firmly against your clit, thrusting so his cock is resting directly on your g-spot. “Now.”

Your orgasm slams into you, black spots dancing over your vision as your walls flutter around Jeff’s cock, sending Jeff spiraling into his own release with a shout of your name as he spills in to you. The feel of his come coating your walls sends you into another orgasm before the other even fully ends, sending your body into overdrive as you shake with the force of it.

You all but fall in to Jeff, gasping for air as he holds you close to him, his hand brushing down the dip of your spine and back up as you both catch your breath.

A few minutes pass and Jeff’s cock has softened inside you, the mixture of your cum having slipped out of you a while ago and was drying uncomfortably sticky on the insides of your thighs.

Pushing up from Jeff’s chest, you meet his eyes smiling gently at him before kissing him, settling comfortably into his embrace, pulling away enough to mumble an “I love you.”

“You were so good for me,” Jeff praises you, a blush settling high on your cheeks at the compliment, wanting to hide yourself away in his neck, but the grip he has on your waist prevents you from doing so.

Shifting, you feel Jeff’s cock brush against your g-spot, involuntarily clenching around him with a gasp, Jeff groaning into your neck at the action.

“Okay, I’m sticky and uncomfortable. Can we please just get out and take a shower,” You ask, your eyelids feeling heavy with exhaustion settling nicely into your muscles. 

“Of course baby. Round two?” Jeff smirks, giggling when you groan, but the fluttering of your pussy undoubtedly gives you away causing Jeff to wiggle his eyebrows at you.

“Shut up,” you mumble, crashing your lips together to silence Jeff, definitely ready for round two.

Walking into Key Bank Center with Skinner written on your back and with his hand entwined with yours wasn’t completely new to you. You had always wore his jersey to games, you had ever since college, so that wasn’t different. But wearing his jersey and cheering him on as his girlfriend definitely was new to the equation.

You’d had the talk after round two in the shower when you were cuddled up in bed. You had asked Jeff where you stood, still somewhat unsure if this meant you were dating or what and he only laughed at you, thinking him telling you he loved you and having sex with you not once but twice was enough of an indicator that he wanted to be with you for the long run. You don’t think you’d ever fallen asleep so happy or slept so soundly than you had last night with Jeff’s body molded around you and his breath against your neck.

And now walking with Jeff into the arena as a couple with a label, it all felt so surreal to you. Jeff nudges you with his shoulder, pulling you from your thoughts as you look over at him.

“What’s going on in that head of yours beautiful?” Jeff asks, squeezing your hand in a comforting gesture.

“Nothing. Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you,” you confess, heart leaping in your chest at the soft look Jeff gives you before he’s pulling you into his side and kissing your temple.

Jeff comes to a stop outside of the dressing room, walking you back until your back is against the wall opposite of the door so he can rest his hands on the curve of your waist and blanket you with his body, almost like he’s hiding you from the rest of the world.

Jeff’s eyes are sweeping over your face, hands moving up to cradle your cheeks in his palms, leaning down to lightly peck you on the lips.

“I love you.” Jeff whispers, brushing your hair away from your face with a small smile.

“I love you too,” You pause, looping your arms around his waist and pulling him closer, enjoying the warm press of his body against yours. “Gonna score a goal for me?” You tease, knowing he’d been on a dry spell, going a few games without a goal and it was only driving him a little bit crazy, though he’d never admit it.

“Of course baby. Anything for you.” Jeff winks, giggles bubbling up through your chest, Jeff smiling into your hair at the sound. He’d never get tired of that sound, never get tired of you.

“I’ll see you after, okay?” Jeff says quietly and when you nod, he kisses you softly like he has all the time in the world and doesn’t have a game to play.

There’s a commotion behind the two of you a bunch of “oh shit,” “holy fuck,” and low whistles sounding off the walls that has you pulling away and peeking over Jeff’s shoulder to see a group of his teammates staring at the two of you. You bury your face in the lapel of Jeff’s suit jacket, hiding your flushed cheeks away from the watchful eyes of the group of men behind you. Jeff can’t help but smile, holding your head to his chest as he turns to address his teammates.

“Don’t you idiots have something you need to be doing?” Jeff chirps, rubbing soothing circles into your back and you all but melt into him.

It’s a rush of noise and chatter, all of them talking over each other that you can’t make out a single word they’re saying. “Alright you can leave now so I can say goodbye to my girlfriend in peace.”

Your heart flutters at Jeff calling you his girlfriend and you don’t think you’d ever be able to get used to it. It falls silent again until someone mutters out a “finally” before the sound of their footsteps and chirps fade down the hallway.

You lift your head up, meeting Jeff’s gaze with a small smile. “I love you. Go out there and kill ‘em tiger,” You say, leaning up on your toes to kiss Jeff goodbye, smiling all the way down the hallway back to your seat, almost in disbelief that this was your life now.

And it was pretty much a sweet surrender from then on out.

[valcarolrights]

Insecurities (Carol Danvers/Reader)

Pairing : Established Carol Danvers x Reader Relationship

Summary : Reader is insecure about getting an education while being older than the average university students and takes on a workload with great force, causing Carol to intervene.

Words : 1.5k +

"The pizza came about ten minutes ago." Carol announces as she strolls into the room.

You barely spare her a glance before nodding. "That's great. Can you keep some for me?" You ask and she frowns.

"I can but I'd rather not." Her tone becomes concerned. "Baby, you haven't eaten all day. You also haven't left the room all day. I don't even want to know when last you slept."

"Look Carol, I'll do all of that tomorrow after the exam, okay?"

"You're thinking of going through the night?" Carol asks, her eyes widening and you shrug.

"I'll have to. I underestimated myself greatly. I have to know everything." You explain your mindset, briefly looking up from your notes to see Carol raising her brows at you. "I'll eat later and take a small nap if you let me revise now?" You try.

Your girlfriend sighs and leaves the room without saying a word. You felt bad, but you could make all you wanted to up to her after your last exam.

You read through your notes repeatedly for the next five minutes, closing your eyes every so now and then to recite them aloud. After finally getting an entire paragraph right without looking, you smiled widely and looked back down at your book to do the same with the next one. As you started reading inwardly, your book was shut in your face.

You blinked twice and looked up. "Really?"

"You need to eat Y/N." Carol says sternly, a plate in her hand.

"I will eat, just not now. I'll just finish this chapter and then I'll come and eat, I promise." You try, knowing full well you're lying.

"You're lying." Carol accuses you and you sigh before taking the plate from her hand.

"Thank you." You mutter.

"Mhm." She mumbles before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Are you going to watch me eat?" You ask the blonde and she nods.

"You can't be reckless and not look after yourself for one simple test. You're only human Y/N." Her voice takes on a softer tone. "You need to be in top condition to write but you're using all your time stuffing this information into your head."

"Because I need to pass." You supply and she nods.

"Yes but how are you going to write an exam starving and with no energy?" She counters.

"Touche." You give in. "I just want to pass and graduate so I can be done."

"I want you to do well as well so I can be cheering the loudest at your graduation as well, but you need to take care of yourself so you can get there." Carol lectures you seriously.

"You make good points." You give in before picking up a slice of pizza. "Just one break to eat and then I'm going back at it."

"One break to eat and a two hour nap and then you're going back at it." Carol corrects you, watching unchanged as your expression falls. "You need to take care of yourself baby."

"Fine." You huff.

"You're so stubborn." Carol laughs before gesturing to the plate. "Now eat up so you can close your eyes. You need to be up by eleven."

"You said two hours. That makes it ten." You argue and she sighs.

"You need time to fall asleep too, idiot."

-

After Carol watched you finish your dinner, claiming she'd already had hers with the team, you huffed and rolled yourself into the bed underneath the blankets, feeling extra guilty when your body practically melted into the mattress. It felt wrong to relax knowing you were writing your final exam the following day, but it felt so good too.

It felt even better when Carol slid in behind you, sliding her arm around your front. "So you wanted to sleep and wanted me to sleep with you?" You ask and Carol's breath falls on your ears as she replies.

"Maybe. But can you blame me? I haven't seen much of you since you started writing exams." She says softly as if not to disturb the peace in the dark room, the guilt bubbling back up in the pit of your stomach. "And also you have the biggest bags underneath your eyes. You need every drop of sleep you can get." She adds before pressing her lips to your ear, causing you to shiver. "Cold?" She asks innocently and you answer quietly.

"A little bit."

She hums thoughtfully and silence falls over the room again. You close your eyes and accept that it's the end of the conversation but gradually feel your body warming up as a result of Carol. You could almost swoon because of how sweet she was yet you on the other hand were avoiding her like the plague just to make it through your final academic year.

"Thank you." You finally say and she hums in recognition again before you shake your head. "No, thank you." You repeat, closing your eyes as you continue speaking, succumbing to her warmth. "For taking care of me even though I haven't treated you well in the past two weeks."

"I understand. You're like a super perfectionist, I get that. You don't just want to do well, you want to do really well." She says, pressing her fingers into your stomach. "It's okay. I just want you to look after yourself as well."

"I'm not only doing it for me, I'm doing it for Tony." You reply in honesty. "I mean he's doing so much for me right now. Giving me an opportunity that others don't have."

You and Sam had been friends for a good number of years and during the time he was wanted by the government, he stayed with you a few times. So many times you began to become well acquainted with his suit and adjusted it and fixed it sometimes when it came back a little dilapidated. When you weren't at work you decided to design some new things to make sure he was seen less but still did his job well. When he came, boy were you excited to lay the new upgrades on him.

After the war with Thanos, and everyone had made up, Tony demanded to know who helped Sam out and surprisingly offered you an apprenticeship, claiming you wasted your time in an office. When you expressed your want to pursue your passion, he offered to help you out. And you wanted nothing more than to make the best of it.

"That's really cool of him." Carol yawns, spurring a yawn of your own on. "But he's not putting any pressure on you. He knows you're smart, I know you're smart."

"I'm doing it for you too." You add after a beat of silence. You sigh because your fatigue always gets you in trouble, pouring gasoline over your honesty. "I know its a lot for you to be with someone my age who's still in university." you say quietly. "Most people my age are successful by now but I'm still studying." you reveal your insecurities.

"Thats what makes you special to me." Carol frowns. "When I first met you and you were trying to come up with a solution for my new suit, I was taken. You suggested a lot but also listened to Tony and Bruce. You never wanted to stop learning and you still don't. You're like... The smartest person ever. Sure there are some kids in your classes but remember that before you studied you were also successful, just not in the career you wanted to be in. Everything takes time but I'm proud of you either way."

You feel the warmth building in your chest before bringing Carol's hand up to your lips, expressing your emotions in three words. "I love you."

"I love you too, stupid." She retracts her hand from your lips and uses it to brush your hair aside to press a kiss on your cheek. "Now go to sleep so you can wake up and revise."

-

True to her word, Carol woke you up at eleven with a cup of coffee, some more pizza as a midnight snack and some kisses to get you going. This time, you allowed her to help you study and ask you questions - finding it much easier and more enjoyable seeing as with every correct answer you were awarded with a kiss.

Unfortunately, the kisses sometimes became heated.

You giggled as you pushed Carol off as she tried to push her tongue into your mouth. You felt her burning fingers on your lower back under your shirt. "Later."

"Fine." She grumbles, giving you one last peck before continuing to ask you questions.

By two am, you'd gone through all your work with the blonde and had fallen asleep with a slightly fuller stomach and her arms wrapped around your waist securely.

You were again woken by kisses and some coffee - this time with a whole breakfast included, making your heart melt because Carol had woken up extra early to make breakfast too to make sure you were well nourished.

It sometimes bothered you that outsiders would never be able to see what a giant puppy the great photon blasting Captain Marvel was outside of the compound.

After a few more good luck kisses, Carol dropped you off at your exam venue and true to your word, after your exam you continued your make out - and more - session.

And true to her word, she cheered the loudest at your graduation.

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @deadicateddeath!

Hope this was the right balance for your prompt and that it had just the right amount of Christmas Fluff, Merry Christmas :) 

Read on AO3

*****

Maybe this Christmas.

It had been Erica’s idea.

Late one night as the pack had been walking through the preserve, they had been trying to come up with plans for what they were wanting to do for Christmas. Admittedly with every member of the pack at university somewhere outside California and those that weren’t working their fingers to the bone on top of keeping an eye on pack activities, it was rare that they got to spend time together. But it did mean that Christmas would have easily come and gone if it hadn’t been for Lydia’s insistence that they should have a party.

“I mean think about it, we need to celebrate the fact that this year is going to come to an end finally,” Lydia said, her tone all business as they walked along the path, though it was practically a miracle that the redhead was managing to walk on the uneven surface in her heels without falling over.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt, right Derek?” Cora asked, from where she, Kira and Malia were walking either side of Lydia, to where her elder brother was sauntering ahead ever the overprotective alpha.

“I suppose.” Derek’s reply came, surprising Stiles who hadn’t been sure that the Alpha was even paying attention.

“And I think we should do a secret Santa to make things a bit more interest.” Erica quipped, which seemed to get the go-ahead from the other pack members including Scott and Isaac who were probably already planning what ridiculously inappropriate present they would get for whoever had the misfortune of them getting.

“A secret Santa? But we usually end up just getting each other gifts anyway.” Stiles said indignantly. Which was true, for the last few years he’d been getting Scott Pop Funko figures as a go-to present since they started coming out and Lydia over the past couple of years could always count on him for some expensive makeup. While his crush on her had long since faded to nothing that didn’t mean he wouldn’t treat her like the queen she very obviously was.

“Maybe you do, Mr I-have-my-father’s-credit-card-number-mesmerised. But for those of us that are actually students, I think one present should be about enough.” Erica said, looking around for agreement which she seemed to get in the form of murmurs.

“Then it’s settled. We’ll draw who we have to buy for when we get back to the House and we’ll have a week to get the present,” Cora said as they continued the walk.

Though as the rest of the group's murmurs on the subject seemed to fade into the background, Stiles let his gaze rest on Derek who was still far out front. The Alpha's body language seemed to have stiffened a little, as though he was unsure about what he could get for some of the pack members that he didn’t know that well. And Stiles did have to agree, he knew some of the members more than others and the last thing he wanted was to get someone a present they wouldn’t like. But at the same time, there was that ridiculously lovesick side of him that hoped and prayed that he got Derek.

He and the alpha had gotten closer since the whole repercussions that had immerged after the Nogitsune, with the elder seeming to be the only one who knew the right words to say and the right way to reassure him that he wasn’t broken. Yet somewhere in the background had been that niggling sense of affection in the back of Stiles’ mind, the urge to kiss the Alpha, to hold his hand in a less than friendly way as well as the overwhelming collection of fantasies that had plagued his mind throughout his adolescence of all the things he wished he could share with the alpha without a shred of clothing. Things that he continued to maintain were perfectly normal for a guy who was coming to terms with his bisexuality.

Once he had left for the FBI Academy, the closeness he and Derek shared had seemed to wane a little.

There were fewer emails, minimal skype calls and only the odd text instead of the onslaught he was more than used to. He kept hassling Cora and Lydia, asking if Derek was now seeing someone since he seemed to be so distant. But both women had told him to stop being so paranoid and that maybe Derek had less time on his hands with all his Alpha duties.

Still even when he’d come home for Christmas there had been minimal occasions to be alone with the alpha in the way he wanted, especially as he was now in the mindset of finally going for it and asking the other out. At least if he could get the other a present may be the alpha would realise how much he meant to him and it would give him the final push to ask him out.

The group finally called it a night around 1 am and returned to the house they were all staying in, the girls coming up with ideas for the party while the boys just walked along in small groups or in Derek’s case led the way.

Everyone gathered in the lounge as Cora set up the secret Santa, scribbling people’s names on post-its which were folded in half and shoved into a Santa hat which seemed to have appeared from nowhere. Steadily Cora made her way through the group, watching each person look at the name and declining when they asked if they could switch which earned curses and groans of ‘what the hell do I get them?!’ as they left for bed. Finally, Cora reached Stiles who had been sat on the couch with his knee jiggling uncertainly and offered the hat to him.

Biting his lip, Stiles shoved his hand in deep and grabbed the first piece that touched his index finger and pulled it out.

He hesitated before unfolding it and was sure that fate was fucking with him because there written on a slant was the name he had been hoping for.

‘Derek.’

“You good Stiles?” Cora asked when Stiles didn’t make a move to follow the rest of the pack up to bed.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks, Cora.” Stiles smiled, refolding the post-it and shoving it in his pocket as he got up from the couch in the direction of the stairs.

Now all he had to do was decide what present would be the best to get the alpha who unknowingly held his heart in his hands.

XO

Derek had watched the pack members get their allocated secret Santa from where he’d been sitting at the kitchen island sipping a large beer. Admittedly he had been unable to stop his gaze from lingering on Stiles, who had seemed on the verge of giddy at the notion of having to get someone a present.

He tried to appear like he wasn’t starring, because Cora always told him he seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve when it came to the younger, and the last thing he wanted to do was to ruin what they had by pushing his unwanted feelings on to him.

Because his friendship with Stiles, that he had managed to get through some miracle, was just about the most prized thing that he held in his life.

True, somewhere around the week before he disappeared with Cora to Buenos Aires in the hopes of finding somewhere untainted that he belonged, he had known that his feelings for the other were evolving. The amount of times he’d found his gaze lingering on the others lips when in pack meetings and aching to know what they felt and tasted like, that he’d dreamed of the moment when he and Stiles would finally get together or even the nights he’d come to the thought of Stiles’ muscular body fucking into his own was getting close to the millions.

Yet it had been maddening watching Stiles’ crush on Lydia and his subsequent dating, if it could even be called that, with Malia and knowing that the last thing he wanted to do was taint Stiles in the way he’d tainted every other relationship he’d had. Stiles deserved someone better and that was why it had pained him, but he had pulled back from communicating Stiles when he left for the FBI and Derek had returned reluctantly to Beacon Hills with Cora in tow.

Of course, his distance from Stiles didn’t go unnoticed by the younger who was constantly hassling Cora about it and meaning that Cora started coming to him.

“Would you stop trying to do the Derek thing and distance yourself from people you actually like! Stiles is driving me crazy as he keeps asking me why you’re barely talking to him and honestly you couldn’t have made it more obvious that you were crushing on him if you tried!”

But they were now in the same town, for the first time in close to six months, and yet Derek was still trying everything in his power to keep their distance. Though it was taking every bit of strength he had to keep it that way.

The alpha took a deep swig of his beer when Stiles reached into the hat and pulled out a post-it to see who he was going to buy for. He swallowed as he saw Stiles’ face lit and watched him bid them good night before disappearing upstairs leaving him and Cora alone.

“Ok, your turn big bro,” Cora said, shaking the hat in his direction as she approached him, the look on her face just about daring him to turn her down.

“Cora….” He began but sighed when she brandished the hat at him and set his beer down before reaching into the hat.

He cast Cora a glare when she shook the hat up with his hand inside it and grabbed the first post-it that sat in his palm before leaning against the counter as he unfolded the post-it. His eyes widened at the name he saw, and he found himself swallowing over and over in denial, even blinking a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. But no, there clear as day scribbled on the paper was the name that he’d been part hoping for and part dreading.

‘Stiles.’

“Oh you have to be kidding me.” Derek groaned, shoving the post-it in his jeans pocket as he passed Cora on the way to bed, ignoring the way she tried to tease him to get him to tell her who he got.

What the hell did you get the guy who you wanted in your life more than anyone else without seeming obvious?

XO

The next day found Stiles practically begging Lydia to come shopping with him, which given that happened only once in a blue moon at best had the redhead giving him strange looks from behind her breakfast of cinnamon toast and chai tea.

“Stiles, you never come shopping with me. In fact, the last time I tried to drag you out shopping so you could get a decent suit for the prom you locked yourself in the bathroom, climbed out the window and ran across town. I had to actually pay for your suit, so why would I help you this time?” The redhead asked, from behind the physics textbook she’d brought back from MIT for some supposed light reading.

“Because this is for my secret Santa and I want it to be perfect. Please, Lyds.” Stiles whined, groaning when the redhead shook her head.

“Whatever you get them doesn’t need to be perfect Stiles. Whoever you’ve got will love whatever you get them.” Lydia quipped, turning her page and taking a sip of her tea.

“But this is important Lydia…. please…” Stiles pleaded, toying irritably with the paper holding the name of his Secret Santa. Honestly, he knew the whole deal with Secret Santas was that it was supposed to be secret and no-one else knew but he wasn’t above showing her if it would get Lydia to change her mind.

“What’s in it for me?” Lydia finally relented, though she did put her book closed with her own folded secret Santa name used as a bookmark and looking at Stiles.

“Coffee, Lunch, my eternal gratitude and dibs as the planner of my wedding.” Stiles pleaded, causing Lydia to frown and take the post-it from him and unfold it, her eyes widening at the name she saw.

“Oh boy, you are going to owe me more than that. But fine, who I am to stand in the path to fate love and shopping? Get ready and we’ll leave in half an hour.” Lydia quipped, handing Stiles back the paper and sliding off her barstool as she left the kitchen to get dressed.

Stiles immediately followed to get changed, feeling immense relief that if anyone would know what to get Derek hopefully Lydia would at least have some idea. He’d spent most of the night trying to find something that wasn’t ridiculously priced, that Derek would like and would be a perfect tie into asking the other out. But outside of a wedding ring, which let’s just say he wasn’t completely against even if he knew it would make him look desperate as fuck before they even had their first date, he was coming up with nothing.

“Stiles, you have fifteen minutes! You had better be ready!” Lydia called, as Stiles rummaged through his closet for his good pair of jeans.

“Coming Lyds!” Stiles yelled back, as he pulled the jeans off the hanger and started searching for a shirt which wouldn’t make the redhead disown him.

XO

“So why are we here looking for your secret Santa present?” Cora’s voice came from the darkness as Derek unlocked the door to the family vault which had been keeping valuables and some furniture that needed to be heavily restored after the fire.

“You know why.” Derek sighed, finally shoving the door aside and letting his alpha eyes come out so he could see in the dark, before making his way inside with Cora behind him.

“No, I have an inkling. That doesn’t mean I have the first clue as to what is going through your head right now.” Cora sighed, pausing to let her own beta eyes adjust to the darkness before looking around.

The vault looked to be a disorganised mess in every meaning of the word, both Hale siblings could remember how organised it used to be back when they were children playing tag and hide and seek among all the family artefacts. How the safe holding all the jewellery and heirlooms had been organised to the point of insanity which had been the result of their father’s obsessive organizing skills. But all that had disappeared to nothing after the fire, all the furniture which had been in the house when it was set on fire had been sorted into piles in the vault as there was nowhere to else to keep them when the house had been declared a demolition site.

One pile held pieces of furniture that were destined for the dump when they could get around to it. Another was for restoration, often things that had been hand made by family members in the past and the family still wanted to cling to and another was old pieces of the house like Christmas decorations and old tapestries that had gone out of favour centuries ago.

Derek heard Cora make a noise as she spotted the decorations and ignored her as he approached the safe which was embedded into the concrete wall of the vault. From the looks of it, Peter had ransacked it for everything he could get years ago, but thankfully there was a secret compartment which not even Peter had known about hidden in the lining.

With the brush of the tip of his claw, Derek managed to find the catch, pull the drawer out and set it on an old weather-beaten table rested precariously against the wall. He retracted his claw and let his fingers linger over the contents of the drawer once the lid was open. There were old family rings with the pack crest embedded gold or silver which burned his fingertips but he ignored, there were a couple of blocks of gold which had been left to him and Cora in their inheritance and a few family photos he hadn’t seen in years. But the one thing he found which he had been looking for finally appeared, hidden under a couple of old jewellery boxes.

On a boot string strap sat an old rusted pendant in the shape of a triskelion looking every bit it’s age, just the way he remembered it.

It had been an heirloom handed down through the alphas and was always reserved for their mates, often for the human equivalent but it had seen a few wolf owners over the years to demonstrate their status. Its last owner had been his and Cora’s father, not a born wolf but a made one, and it had been so important for Talia that her husband was recognised for his status. All memories Derek held of his father included that pendant and it was that he wanted to share with Stiles.

He knew Stiles had a weakness for supernatural history, especially that involving werewolves, and he was sure if the younger looked it up that he would realise it’s worth and what it meant to the person who gave it to him. Admittedly it was a uniquely Hale thing which would be quite telling but there was nothing else that Derek felt would make a good meaningful present for the younger.

“You found it?” Cora asked, appearing from the other side of the vault with a couple of water-damaged boxes in her possession, all labelled in their mother’s scrawl with Christmas decorations, and yet Derek knew what his sister was intending to do with them.

“Yeah, and a couple of old bits too, but I think this will do,” Derek said, pushing the necklace in his jeans pocket and closing the drawer’s lid before returning it to its hiding place.

“I still don’t know if you giving him that is a good idea. I mean you were trying to back off, right? If you give him that he’ll either think I’m interested in him which gross, or he’ll know it was you and it’ll scare him off.” Cora said, as Derek closed the safe’s doors and led Cora towards the Vault’s entrance.

“Maybe, or maybe it’ll help him to realise what a key part of the pack he is. I mean he is the only human pack member and he always doubts his importance. I just want him to know that he’ll always belong and no matter what he goes on to do in life or who he chooses to be with.” Derek said, holding the door open as Cora passed him with the boxes before he closed and resealed the vault.

True there would come a day where the vault would need sorting, back to their father’s pristine standards, but that day hadn’t arrived yet and part of Derek dreaded the day when it arrived. Because it would be left to the last two Hale descendants and there was something saddening about that fact, being the last out of a pack of so many.

XO

Stiles was beginning to regret asking Lydia to help him as he followed her in the direction of the food court for their second break of the day. While he knew that Lydia was a big shopaholic, he just hadn’t realised the extent of it until he was left carrying her bags while she continued to browse. At some point, she claimed to have got her own secret Santa which was hidden in a Victoria secret’s bag which he knew was her way of deterring his curiosity, but she seemed to be struggling about what to get Derek just as much as he was.

True, the alpha had the body of a damned god and would easily look good in Calvin Klein underwear, which god if that wasn’t one of Stiles’ daydreams, or even in one of those geeky t-shirts that Stiles loved and again that was a constant daydream, of watching the way the material clung to his abs was his own version of porn. And yeah maybe cologne would work if he wasn’t a werewolf with a ridiculously sensitive nose. But honestly, he didn’t want to get something superficial for the sake of it. Part of the reason why that wedding ring was starting to seem more and more like a viable option.

“How about one of those dorky pop funko things you get Scott every year?” Lydia asked, as she tried another shade of red lipstick on the back of her hand before returning the tester and continuing to lead the way towards the food court.

“I can’t see Derek being happy about that somehow. I don’t even know if he watches anything that would make those.” Stiles sighed, switching Lydia’s collection of bags between hands when he felt the blood circulation disappeared.

“Hm, ok,” Lydia said thoughtfully leading Stiles towards the café opposite the Starbucks they’d been sat in hours before and picking a table out front.

Stiles set her bags down in a spare chair and went to the counter to order when Lydia had told him what she wanted. As he stood at the other end of the counter waiting for their food, his gaze kept lingering on a jeweller a couple of rows down as he tried to narrow down his options.

Derek wasn’t big on sports, though according to Cora he had been when he was a teenager before the Kate incident. He did have a Netflix subscription that the pack seemed to use more than he did for movie nights. He was a book worm from time to time, but his choice of reading material was random and never something that could be pinned down. To be fair he’d never seen Derek wearing jewellery as it seemed to interfere with his shift and his choice in clothes were baggy enough to accommodate the change. But for some reason, his wardrobe continued to stick with Stiles.

It wasn’t until the barista had set both his and Lydia’s coffees and food down on a tray, that he realised why he was so fixated on his wardrobe. Because the first time he saw Derek, that night so many years ago when he and Scott were trespassing on Hale Land, he’d been dressed in a leather jacket.

Since the years had progressed, the presence of that jacket had disappeared, something which he was sure was to do with Braeden. Yet it was something that Stiles missed the sight of. Since then part of Derek’s essence had disappeared and he had become more the Alpha he was supposed to be because there wasn’t much choice. But now he needed a persona that was less fake, and more the real him, and Stiles had an idea of how to go about it.

Stiles set the tray down once he reached their table, causing Lydia to look up from her phone as he sat down opposite her.

“I think I have an idea.”

XO

The Christmas party came around quickly, Lydia surpassing herself as always by making sure that the House was decorated to within an inch of its life with Cora’s help. Though the decorations looked older, almost like they had been in storage for a long time which he was sure wasn't the redhead's style. But when Stiles had asked Cora she'd just told him they were Hale family heirlooms and that had quickly silenced Stiles’ curiosity.

The food had been ordered in through a caterer who had brought it promptly and the drink had appeared by the case later. The music was playing but not loud enough to irritate werewolf senses, and a fair few allies as well as Scott’s Mom and Stiles’ own Dad, had come to join them.

Lydia insisted before any food was eaten that they deal out the secret Santas which had been sat under the large Christmas tree in the lounge. Everyone had murmured in agreement, taking a seat as Cora started to hand them out.

In turn, each member of the pack started to open their presents once they were received. Scott had got a lacrosse jersey from a professional team that had been signed by all the players, which was interesting considering he hadn’t been playing at college as far as Stiles knew. Isaac got what appeared to be a sex toy of some kind, causing the beta to flush bright red and let out a nervous laugh as he shoved it back in the wrapping.

Kira seemed to have got some lingerie, which had her meeting Scott’s gaze pointedly as she too pushed the item back in her bag which quickly had Cora saying that next year serious presents would be a rule. Malia got a book subscription for the next year which went down like a lead balloon as the were-coyote complained it was like doing homework which she didn’t need to do anymore.

Erica got a decanter set and glasses, which looked expensive enough to have even Stiles’ healthy bank account shrieking in disbelief through the she-wolf seemed happy with them even if Cora then started complaining that price limits would have to be a thing next. Boyd got a new tool belt and from the way, he and Erica exchanged glances it was obvious that the two had got the other.

Lydia got a collection of tester perfumes from a brand she didn’t usually use but she still seemed happy with them, like she had been considering trying them for a while. Cora received what looked like an anthology on supernatural history which was surprising as she never usually associated with that aspect of pack life, but she seemed interested if the way she read the blurb was anything to go by.

Finally, the only two that remained unopened looked to be for Stiles and Derek, which immediately made Stiles nervous, especially by the way that the rest of the pack seemed to be looking between the pair knowingly.

“Derek, here’s yours,” Cora said, handing her brother the overly large gift bag covered in a white candy cane pattern on a red background. It had taken Lydia ages to convince Stiles to get a relatively normal gift bag instead of one of the superhero or Star Wars ones he usually got for his friends but it definitely seemed like Derek wasn’t repulsed by it so that was something.

Stiles watched Derek remove the tissue paper that had been put on the top of the bag to obscure the contents and pulled out an expensive brand-new black leather jacket. It was the right size which was something Stiles had to thank Cora for as the younger Hale had ransacked her brother’s closet to make sure he found the right size.

Derek’s eyes had widened as he held the jacket up against himself, letting his fingers linger over all the pristine stitching and yet there was no denying that he looked happy with what he had been given. But when he turned back to the bag just to double-check if there was a card or something, a frown covered his features as he pulled out the other package inside.

This was the one that Stiles was nervous about, not knowing how the Alpha would take it. He watched as Derek pulled out the burgundy hoodie that easily matched the few that were hung up in Stiles’ own closet, it was a better brand and infinitely more expensive than any Stiles owned but as he watched Derek hug it to him and take a deep breath it was obvious he was catching on to its meaning.

Stiles had spent the past week wearing the hoodie, even going so far as to wear it to bed a couple of nights, to the point that it smelt like him. He remembered reading how important it was for alphas to have things to remind them of pack members when they were missing, whether it was a shirt or a scarf coated in their scent it helped to settle them. And he hoped that by wearing the hoodie, and dowsing it with his scent, that Derek’s wolf would recognise Stiles’ intention and affection for him.

The rest of the pack, with the exception of Cora, seemed to be a bit confused at the second gift but when Derek returned it to the gift bag and put on the leather jacket it seemed to assure them, he liked it.

“Stiles.” Cora’s voice pulled his attention from Derek who seemed to look up at the sound of his name and look at the remaining present under the tree.

Stiles took the present when it was offered to him and settled it on his lap. The gift bag smaller than any of the other presents the others had been given, covered in gold with the shape of Christmas trees engraved in white. He pulled out the small box and was surprised when he realised it was a jewellery box, like the kind you would see when buying a new necklace or bracelet. He just hoped whoever it was hadn’t spent too much on him.

Opening the box, his eyes widened at what he saw. It didn’t look new, but there was no denying that sat on the blue velvet was a triskelion pendant tied on a boot string necklace. It was rusted with age, easily speaking of the many decades’ hell even centuries that the necklace had been within someone’s family. He gently removed the necklace from the box and held it up so the others could all see. He was surprised when he heard rumbles of recognition from the wolves and even the odd flash of wolf eyes in agreement like the pack recognised it’s meaning.

“Wow, it’s beautiful Stiles.” Scott’s Mom said, looking the pendant over in his fingers like she knew it wasn’t her place to touch it.

“Yeah, it is.” Stiles murmured, loosening the bootstrap enough that he could get it over his head before letting it rest on his collar bone.

It was surprising how the feel of the pendant against his skin seemed to settle something inside of him, that little voice that had always doubted his place in the pack even after all that they had gone through together immediately going silent. It didn’t help that he was the only human, and with that, there was always that second thought of if he even belonged. But all those fears seemed to disappear, now that in his own way he had found his place within the pack which was recognised in the eyes of those who mattered.

He let his fingers linger against the pendant and looked up to see Derek’s gaze rested on the pendant on his skin. When their gazes met, he watched Derek look away and get up to grab a beer from the fridge, leaving Stiles wondering if he had just missed the chance he had been waiting for.

XO

Derek had felt the shift throughout the entire pack when they had set eyes on the pendant, even though the teenagers themselves may not recognise its meaning it was clear that their supernatural counterparts did. That they had realised Stiles’ place in the pack was a constant that they had always relied on and would always need more than they could even imagine.

It was something he knew made the younger feel settled and a part of the pack even if that had always been the case.

He sipped his beer as he leaned against the kitchen island, watching the pack members as they piled their plates with food and grabbed a drink while they chatted among themselves about their family plans the next week. But every so often a small tinge of the scent that had been left on the hoodie seemed to catch his attention from where it had been rubbed into his leather Jacket.

“You going to eat something or just stand here like a creep and watch everyone?” Cora asked, appearing beside him with a plate of cheese and honey roasted ham.

“Not exactly feeling hungry at the moment,” Derek said wistfully letting his gaze linger over the pack as he tried to find the source of the scent, even though his inner wolf seemed to be berating him for not picking up on it sooner.

“Have you realised who your secret Santa was yet?” Cora said, seeming fixated on getting him to actually be sociable instead of just standing on the outside as he seemed to think he should as the alpha.

“Do you know?” Derek asked, watching Cora roll her eyes like she obviously knew but wasn’t about to tell him.

“When you’ve figured it out, you’ll kick yourself. Just don’t let them leave without talking to them, I think you both have something you need to say to each other.” Cora said around a mouthful of feta as she disappeared to tease Isaac about his secret Santa which Derek was sure she was the source of.

Derek bit his lip as he made himself weave through the crowd of the pack, discreetly letting his inner wolf indulge each scent as they tried to find the right person. But finally, as Stiles was passing him with a bowl of trifle chatting animated to Scott about something, he caught a whiff of that alluring scent of aged paper, ink, jasmine and something that seemed uniquely Stiles in a way that he couldn’t describe. And Cora was right, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realised who was behind it before.

And though he wanted to speak to him, it seemed best to let Stiles enjoy himself instead of bothering him. Because surely the other couldn’t understand what it was that he had done by practically offering him his scent on a platter.

XO

Stiles was chatting to Scott about his time at the Academy when Cora appeared beside him, looking determined in a way that he was more than used to after seeing it on Derek’s face several times in their years of friendship. It was definitely a Hale thing.

“Scotty, I’ll catch up with you later yeah? I think Cora wants me for something.” Stiles said, watching Scott nod in acknowledgement and take his plate of chocolate over to Kira.

“You need to speak to Derek; he looks like he’s trying to keep his distance from you and honestly this whole thing is getting tiring,” Cora said, gesturing to where Derek was hovering by the Christmas tree, letting his gaze linger over the decorations like he was remembering all the memories of Christmases past with the family before the fire.

“I guess.” Stiles sighed, reluctantly setting his half-finished bowl of trifle aside and approaching Derek once he was sure Cora wouldn’t follow.

He stood beside the Alpha a little, watching him brush his fingertips over a bauble with his name engraved in the red glitter.

“We haven’t seen much of each other since I came back into town, so how are you, Derek?” Stiles asked, watching Derek look up and offer him a small smile even as his eyes seemed to stutter from alluring green to alpha red and back again.

“Yeah, I guess we haven’t. I’m good mostly, just dealing the usual. How about you, how're things at the academy?” Derek said softly, looking back at the decorations.

“It’s going well, I’m looking into a few junior positions towards the end of my training but I’m not sure how well I’ll manage,” Stiles said, causing Derek to look back up and roll his eyes.

“From what you told me your training is going well, I’m sure you’ll be more than ready to get started in the field when you’re ready.”

“Thanks, that means a lot. I was just wondering if you felt like taking a short walk through the preserve? I’m sure the others won’t mind.” Stiles suggested with a smile, watching Derek set down his empty beer bottle and nod.

“Sure, it sounds like a good idea.”

The pair walked out the house through the back door, knowing they would get more attention from the others if they went out through the front, and started walking into the preserve along the path that they usually used on a full moon.

There was silence between them like there often was when they weren’t around the rest of the pack, neither of them feeling the need to just talk for the sake of talking. But there was still a sense of comfort between them, like a connection which they felt like they didn’t have to talk about. And yet, from where Stiles was standing that was exactly what they needed to do, breaking the habit of a lifetime.

“So, I’ve noticed you’ve been a bit more distant since I left Der, and I’m wondering if maybe there’s a reason why that has to do with just you and me,” Stiles said, fidgeting with his new pendant.

Derek seemed to stiffen at his choice of words but kept his gaze ahead instead of looking at the younger.

“Depends what you mean by you and me,” Derek said, uneasily.

“I mean, you and me as people Derek. In the way that people who like each other as more than friends would say you and me.” Stiles said, watching Derek bite his lip but finally look at him.

“You must know how I feel Stiles, why else would you have done what you did with that hoodie?”

“What?” Stiles asked with a frown.

“Only mates of Alphas willingly give the alpha of a pack clothing with their scent on it,” Derek said, causing Stiles��� eyes to widen.

“Is that why your eyes keep giving me a light show when I’m close? Because I’m your mate!?” Stiles asked, watching Derek give a small grin and roll of the eyes but silently nod.

“I want you to find who you really want in your life in your own way Stiles. I don’t want you to feel pressured to be with me just because….” Derek began only for Stiles’ fingers to curl in his new jacket’s collar and cut him off with a kiss so deep and filled with love that it made Derek stumble a little before he stopped in his tracks and let his arms curl around Stiles to bring him closer with his teeth nipping at the other’s lips.

Stiles groaned in his throat the feel of the lips he’d been dreaming about against his own, feeling a sense of relief that his move hadn’t backfired on him. But at the same time, he had needed to stop Derek before his self-deprecation about not being good enough had taken hold and from where Stiles was standing that wasn’t true in the slightest. Derek would always be more than he deserved.

“Pressured isn’t at all how I would describe what I’m feeling for you, Derek.” He murmured breathlessly when their lips parted, and he met Derek’s now alpha red eyes looking back at him.

“I get that now.” Derek whispered, resting their foreheads together and curling his fingers between Stiles’ beside him with his other hand toyed with the pendant.

“And you’ll have me always, ok? No matter where I am.” Stiles said reassuringly, feeling a shudder through his very core at the feel of Derek’s attention on the pendant that defined him.

“I know, and you’ll have me. My mate.” Derek smiled, brushing a kiss to the pendant before catching Stiles’ lips with his own again and pulling him closer into his space as he guided his mate’s back up against a tree out the view of the house.

“Yours.” Stiles panted, tilting his head back against the bark as he felt Derek’s lips and fangs worshipping his neck in a way that he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was and would always be loved by his alpha.

“Yours.” Derek echoed against his skin as he met Stiles’ gaze with a sly smile that caused a shudder down Stiles’ spine at the feeling of an all-encompassing kind of love that would follow him no matter where life took him.

Wherever Stiles went Derek would always follow one way or another, from one secret Santa to the next.

Fin.

[quietbrain-quieteyes]

Hello there! I recently found your blog and am very excited to see what you have to offer! :) is it okay if I request some fluff for Aizawa with a female s/o that is burnt out and in pain by all the physical work on her job and decides to take a day off? You don’t have to, but I’d totally appreciate it if you did! TvT) thank you!

Sorry this took so long to answer! (๑꒪⍘꒪๑) I used to have a job that was physically painful for me. Especially for my legs, sometimes I couldn’t even walk on my off days. So I sort of based it off of that and how I felt when I wasn’t working.

Uhh,, I’m not really good at fluff so this is more of like a slice of life kind of thing? I dunno, I don’t consider it fluff :V

A Day Off [Aizawa Shouta x Female Reader]

[1,769 words]

It was times like these that you were grateful that you never really asked for days off, because now that you were actually asking for one off with a complaint of sever pain in your legs they happily gave it to you. After all a hero, no matter how little media exposure, deserved a break and you had been putting in your time for a while now without a break. Sometimes your coworkers joked that your quirk was really just your kind heart. You’d covered so many shifts and patrols in the last month.

Unfortunately this had resulted in overworking yourself, which had lead to your legs- specifically your joins in your hips, knees and ankles- to ache so badly you thought your legs would give out from under you more than once throughout your day off. The pain left you in bed with thoughts of being useless and a burden filling your skull.

One of the reasons you found yourself working and taking so many shifts was primarily for this reason. You felt like you weren’t contributing to society, that you were a freeloader. And when you weren’t plagued with the self depreciating thoughts? You didn’t think. You cycled between sleep and just staring at the wall, absentmindedly you would stand to find something to eat or drink and as you passed by the mirror hung on your door you would see the way your legs quaked beneath your weight and the reflection of your face. Frown painted onto your features with sunken eyes that looked like you had slept for weeks on end. 

A knock on the door interrupted you. Staring in the direction of the offending sound your muscle memory kicked in. You made your way to the front door, albeit slowly. Using furniture and the walls as a support method the bones in your knees felt as if the cartilage had thinned out so far so that they might be scrubbing together. Upon opening the door you were met with a familiar and equally tired face.

At once Aizawa’s brow knitted together at the sight of your numb appearance only to push in as tears welled in your eyes and a sob ripped through your throat. Discarding his things at the door as he closed it he guided you to the couch he sat you down. Eraserhead was solid as you clung to him, all of your pint up emotions escaping you in a rush that neither of you were prepared for. Warm from walking through the sunlight in his hero uniform.

Carefully his fingers pulled your hair from your face and back over your shoulders when you finally sat back, sniffling and wiping your eyes, trying to force yourself out of this funk. “Y/n,” The scruffy man started quietly, voice even, easy to focus on. “What happened?”

You could only meet his gaze for a second before you looked to your lap shaking your head slowly. Again his fingers were in your hair, tucking it behind your ear to keep it off of your wet cheeks. With a stocked up voice thanks to your revolting sinuses you managed to speak “I-” Swallowing hard you felt like a child under his concerned gaze. “I took the day off of work because I’ve felt so bad lately and I’m physically hurting.” Aizawa remained silent as he thought. His hand was on your back, thumb rubbing soothing circles just above your bra clasp. 

Standing the tall man walked into the kitchen, fixing you something cold to drink “I don’t see what the problem is. You’re taking a day for yourself because both your body and mind need it.” Coming back he pressed the chilled glass into your hand but he didn’t sit as you responded. “I just feel like I’m useless, like I can’t do anything right if I can do anything at all! And on top of that now I actually can’t do anything because my legs are hurting so mu– hEY!” Clearly you weren’t expecting him to stoop down and pick you up like you weighed nothing whatsoever. 

Clinging to your cup so you didn’t spill it as he toted you like a sack of potatoes he patted just below your rear with a little smug smirk on his face. Dropping you on the bed he plucked the glass from your hands and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before he unceremoniously wiped your face on his sleeve, earning a little confused giggle from you. “Don’t do that to yourself.” Another kiss with another giggle, you sighed as he pulled away. That had always been the amazing thing about Aizawa Shouta. He cared, he cared a whole lot. 

Retreating into the bathroom you could hear him running the water for the tub, occasionally he was slosh the water around to test the heat. You stayed where he had placed you besides laying back to reach for your phone, legs dangling from the bed. A couple minutes passed before Shouta was satisfied with the temperature of the water. 

Sneaking up on you he pulled your sleep pants off in one sharp tug, resulting in a loud surprised yelp from you. Before you could sit up though he was laid on top of you, calloused hands messaging against the tense muscles in your thighs as he pressed his face against the crook of your neck. Softly you groaned dropping your head back, you’d been so focused on how raw your joints felt that you weren’t even aware of how tight everything else was. “You really should take some time to yourself, y/n..” He muttered against your neck before he slid down your body as you protested “I do take time for myself!” 

“Going out with me ins’t what I meant.”

“Listen!” Lazily his dark irises and pupils found yours, eyebrows raising as he listened. Spluttering you crossed your arms over your chest and looked away, once again feeling like a kid. “I just feel- I- Shouta I don’t know what to do with myself when I’m not working. I don’t know how I lived my life before I became a pro!” His hands had traveled down to your calves now, kneading the muscle as you vented to him.

That was one of the reasons you loved him so much. He listened to you and when he felt qualified or like he knew what he was talking about he would offer you advice. He had always been like that, before you loved him. One of those times was right now, you could tell he was processing your words, trying to find a solution that didn’t rely on you simply going out on dates with him. 

Standing he pulled you to your feet, letting you prop on him he remained silent as he helped you into the bathroom. Cutting off the flow of the water as you stripped down to nothing. Climbing into the tub to hide your insecurities even though you were aware that Aizawa had never seen anything on you as wrong, he’d simply seen you.

The raven haired man set his capture weapon on the counter, tying his jumpsuit’s sleeves around his hips he ditched his under shirt. Crossing the room he started getting a rag ready with soap to scrub you clean, taking care of you he finally spoke again. Voice quiet, making you listen.

“I think you’ve gotten to the point where you’re afraid not to work. You’re afraid other people might think you aren’t putting in the time or the effort- that you don’t care. So you’ve subconsciously created an environment where you’ve injured yourself unknowingly so that you have to stay active so that you don’t physically feel what’s happening to you. On top of this mindset you’re running from your feelings of self doubt and self loathing. Again, you’re afraid of how others will see you if you stop putting in as much time simply to take some for yourself.” He sighed, pausing as he focused on getting the grime off of your arms and back while you’re lower half soaked in the hot water, reducing swelling that had started in your ankles that you hadn’t even noticed.

“In doing this you’re trying to live up to this unrealistic idea of how a pro hero should be. Y/n, not everyone is like the top ten heroes. Not everyone can be. We all have our limitations that we struggle with. Whether those limitations be quirk related or not.” Even the best of the best had limitations. Japan was currently very aware of that.

He kept his touches gentle despite the amount of pressure he used to remove what felt like the top layer of your skin. That was another thing you liked about him, the way he touched you. Even now he was careful, almost wordlessly asking if it was alright as the rag dipped beneath the surface of the water. Dragging against your sore legs, the warm water had eased the pain from your joints now. Now just a dull ache as he testily bent your leg as he cleaned your foot. 

Leaning over towards you as he finished he left his hands in the water, kissing you once more “Take your time. Let me know if you need any help.” With that he gathered all of the extra clothing from the room and left you to your own devices.

After a few minutes he returned with a set of new clean clothes for you, setting them and a fresh towel on the counter before he slinked away again. When you finished you put on the choice outfit and examined it. From the scrunchy to the underwear every article of clothing was something you had told him was your favorite. A mismatch of fuzzy pieces and worn down, thin cotton material. When you emerged from the bathroom he was laid out on the bed, still in his jumpsuit but at this point you didn’t care. Climbing onto the bed you snuggled close against him, something he returned once he pulled the nearest blanket over both of you. letting one had rest against the dip in your natural waistline he buried his nose in your damp hair, eyes closed. He was warm and you were fuzzy. The perfect mix that quickly lulled the both of you to sleep.