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itrytowrite-things · 4 years ago

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Murder podcasts

Spencer Reid x reader

Summary: Y/N has a tendency to listen to murder podcasts while doing chores, one day Spencer comes in unannounced scaring Y/N into action. (This summary sucks but it’s fluffy)

A/N: shout out to @with-paint, she helped me form some of this fic so check them out.

The eerie background music and narrator filled the kitchen as I scrubbed diligently at a plate. I blinked down at it, trying in vain to remember what the hell I used it for that would cause such a stubborn stain of food. Sighing, I squeezed the soap bottle some more and ran hot water over it. Maybe soaking it would help?

Grabbing a few of the cups I had washed, I spun around from the sink to a towel I had laid out earlier. I scrunched my nose as cold soap suds ran down my arm, hit my elbow and fell to the floor in a sticky mess I didn’t want to deal with right now.

I was so engrossed in the podcast playing over the Alexa that I barely even processed the grueling chore that was longer than normal. I was lost in the words, that an hour longer scrubbing at dishes seemed almost fun. The dishwasher had completely died a couple of weeks ago.

Normally Spencer would speed read the manual to figure out what was wrong with the stupid machine. But unfortunately, his case in Michigan was taking longer than he anticipated. So, he hadn’t been home to look into it, leaving me to hand wash the dishes. I didn’t mind, it was a mindless task and allowed me to catch up on my favorite podcast.

“They found her body a week later, twenty minutes from their house,” I shook my head at that, case freaking solved. Her husband obviously killed her. I mean there’s no way the police didn’t solve this case, come on.

I moved from the towel back to the sink, sticking my hands back into the soapy water. I always believed that I should be a detective. I could solve these cases easily, Spencer claims that suspicion can only take me so far and the reason that they don’t catch the guy is not because they don’t suspect it, but because they don’t have hard evidence. I normally just scoff and give him a kiss knowing that I would get the bad guy in the end, “hard evidence” my ass.

“Two months later the police came in and found Jeff’s disembodied head laying on their kitchen counter.” My jaw dropped and I turned around furiously, bringing a wet butter knife with me, on instinct I pointed the knife at the device.

“Oh shit.” I said to the speaker, as if it were relaying the case itself. Well turns out I was wrong. I cleared my throat and lowered the stupid knife. I placed it down and tried my best to look less scandalized. We all make mistakes. So I might have been a little off in my husband theory, but I mean I had only heard half the case at that point so it doesn’t speak anything of my amazing detective skills. I nodded at that and tossed the knife into a little stack of silverware. The metallic sound echoing around the kitchen. I smirked at my good throw and turned back to the sink.

I quickly got into the true grove of washing the dishes, listening to the more gruesome details of the case. Turns out the killer did quite a number on old Jeff. I was halfway done with the remaining dishes when I felt a tap on my shoulder sending my heart into a frenzy.

I whirled around quickly bringing the closest item with me as a weapon. The plastic spatula slapped the asalint straight in the face creating an awfully loud twack sound that bounced off the kitchen walls. I blinked in horror at realizing who exactly was standing in front of me.

Spencer's cheek turned red immediately.

“Oh my god! Spence! I am so sorry!” I dropped the spatula and brought my other hand to his face trying to soothe his skin. My hand was covered in water and soap suds, and it dripped down his face onto the already wet floor.

“I am so so sorry. You scared me.” I rubbed my thumb over the spot, feeling his heated skin. Jesus, I felt awful. I didn’t hold anything back when I hit him. I figured I was fending for my life, not greeting my boyfriend.

“It’s okay.” His much larger hand cupped mine removing it from his face. The redness had died down a little, making his skin a rosy pink instead of the previous bright red. He looked adorable which only made me feel worse. Who looks that cute after getting slapped in the face with a spatula?

Spencer startled me yet again when a chuckle came bubbling out of him. His laugh was like someone bottled the sound of happiness. It made my own laughter arise every time without a doubt even if I didn’t understand what was funny.

“I guess I don’t have to worry about you protecting yourself.” A loud squeak sound emitted from my body unexpectedly followed by more laughter. I slapped him very lightly across the chest, kissing his unharmed cheek.

“You're lucky I wasn’t cutting vegetables.” I said, rustling my way into his arms pulling his body against my tightly, loving the way his laughter shook my entire body. I felt the short press of his lips against the crown of my head before tucking my head into the nook of his neck. I inhaled deeply, taking the scent of him with me. The apartment had started to lose its scent with him being gone for so long. I was beyond eager for the apartment to smell like us again.

“I think those podcasts are giving you wild ideas.”

“They would never find your body Dr.Reid.” I teased, poking gently at his side making him squirm in my grip. Another round of laughter filled the small space, it was only when it died down that I realized my podcast was still running in the background.

“Alexa, stop,” I shouted into the air stopping the podcast. “The neighbor did it.” I said with coincidence knowing that my answer was correct this time. Spencer let out a belt of laughter, nodding his head, a big grin on his face.

I pulled back from Spencer taking in his features for the first time. He looked tired, his eye bags had doubled creating a skunk in effect. I could see the trouble in his eyes, the case was hard. It killed me to see him after a hard case, he looked more and more defeated after each one. However, it was what he loved doing and my job wasn’t to erase the trauma of his job, but to ease him back into daily life. I thumbed his eye bags lazily, a pout taking over my face.

“You wanna take a shower and I’ll start us some dinner.” I asked gently. Not wanting to completely destroy the quiet we created. He nodded slightly looking younger than ever. I quickly pulled him back into me taking all of his weight. “I love you bub.” His hair felt silky against my fingertips as I disentangled the curls.

“Love you too.” He mumbled, his heated breath warming my skin. I waited a few comfortable minutes rocking our conjoined bodies in the cozy silence of our kitchen, I took a deep breath and said what was on my mind.

“You wanna talk about it?”

I don’t ever ask Spencer for the details of his cases. He either goes into a tangent without prompting or doesn’t feel like talking about it. I used to think that talking to Spencer about his job would be like listening to my murder podcasts. It honestly was one of the things I was excited for, but I soon found out it’s nothing like that.

When Spencer spoke of cases it was personal. He felt every death that was caused and saw every killing through the eyes of monsters. He held so much emotion in his voice when he spoke of the victims, that I often can’t help but cry. How a person can hold that much pain and still continue to do it everyday, is beside me.

He shook his head, squeezing my torso before finally pulling back and placing a soft kiss to my lips.

I continued the dishes, washing the last few. I left the podcast off, listening instead to the shower from down the hall. I scrubbed off the last of the grime before starting the oven. A simple dinner was always best in these situations. I pulled out a pre-made chicken pot pie from the freezer and placed it in the oven.

As I moved to dry and put away the dishes while waiting for pie to finish. Spencer emerged from the bathroom freshly bathed. He wore a thin gray shirt paired with some soft looking sweatpants. My upper lip jutted out automatically. God I love him.

“Feel better?” I kept my voice low, not wanting to startle any peace that the shower might have brought him. He nodded slowly.

“What did you cook?”

“A chicken pot pie, I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s perfect.” He smiled and returned to my arms, kissing my neck once before tucking his head into my neck. The edge of his wet hair scraped against my skin in an uncomfortable way, yet I only moved enough to rub circles into his back.

A loud beep emitted from the oven caused me to jump in Spencer's arms. He let out a small chuckle.

“Pick us something to watch and I’ll plate us some food.” I hummed turning my back to him. I heard him walking towards the living room as I bent to retrieve the hot food.

Spencer sat criss cross on the couch, Les Enfants du Paradis was displayed on the TV. I handed him the steaming bowl and sat down, sitting close enough for our knees to knock together. I have no idea what Les Enfants du Paradis was, but I would watch literally anything he wanted as long as he was here.

“It’s in French, but I figured I could whisper the translations to you while we watch. Or I could pick something else?”

“No! This is perfect Spence. I love it when you translate, you tell the story better.” He let out a little blush highlighting his previous slap mark. I bit my lip and winced slightly, “How’s your face?”

He touched the spot faintly, he didn’t wince when his fingers made contact which was a good sign. However, I have an inkling that a small bruise would form in the center of the slap which was going to be a fun story to tell his colleagues Monday.

“I’ve had worse, but you wield a lot of power with a cheap piece of plastic.”

“I am professionally trained in the art of spatula wielding Spence, don’t try that at home.” I stared at him, my face blank before a blast of laughter came out of both of us. One can only be so serious when you are talking about slapping people in the face with kitchen utensils.

Spencer started up the movie, and we remained there for the rest of the evening. Laughter and dramatic sighs followed by even more dramatic translations from Spencer. At some point he went so off script that even I could tell his story was bullshit. I didn’t call him out though just allowed him to spit nonsense, I would let him create fake French stories until he was blue in the face if that meant we got to stay in this happy bubble forever.

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #doctor reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #reid fluff #spencer fluff #cm #cm x reader #criminal minds #dr. spencer reid #spencer #spencer reid fluff #x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer x you #y/n

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blxetsi · 4 years ago

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Imagine pampering Reiner. I would love to kiss him silly 🙈 is it obvious he’s my favorite character?

id like to kiss him silly too 🤩🤚 tysm for the request !!!

pampering reiner after a long day (modern au)

warnings: taking care of ur man 😁👍 uhh construction worker!reiner (of age, obv), gn!reader, face care n shit idk, cute names like baby and love, mentions of sexual harrasment/assault in a workplace.

living in the city had it ups and downs. well, so did everything in life, but you never really thought about that until you moved into the city. you and reiner both came from a small town, and then went to the same college in a bigger town, before you two decided to move to the big city together. downs happened more often than ups, but anything was an up if you were with reiner. rent was expensive, especially for the shoebox of an apartment you two live in, but youve both made it into your home, a cozy little sanctuary away from the rest of this chaotic world. another down was that the city never sleeps, someone, somewhere was always working, and you too found yourself taking nightshifts at the diner you worked at. it was minimum wage, and middle aged men and women would come in and flirt (more like harass), but your coworkers were nice, and if you made sure to dress up a bit you'd get a fat tip.

you and reiner originally thought that you'd get well paying jobs as soon as you moved into the city, which was a lie. considering the time, effort, and money you both put into getting your degrees, you thought you were more than qualified for certain jobs, but you werent, and that sucked, and now your boyfriend over works himself physically building houses while you let freaks make weirdly sexual comments about you so you can earn more money. it sucks on both ends, but you know that you'd do anything to be with reiner, so you could take a couple of gropes and sleazy jokes.

today you had gotten off work early, your boss closing the store because of a family emergency. you felt bad for the man, he was nice, and offered to switch you to dish duty when he'd seen older people be weird with you, you'd declined knowing that you wouldn't earn as much in the back. he was a family man, and generous, and cared about others, which was a nice change from other employers in the past. you were surprised reiner wasn't home yet, because today was friday, and he usually got off fridays around six, but now it was almost nine, and you were starting to get a bit worried.

just as you started gnawing on your lip, your phone vibrated beside you. grabbing it you saw it was reiner calling you, and quickly paused your episode of shameless to answer. "rei, where are you ?"

"just got off work baby." he sighed.

he sounded exhausted, and you could hear cars honking so you knew he was outside.

"do you need me to come get you ?"

"no, its okay. jack's giving me a ride home."

you let out a breath, at least he didn't have to wait for the bus, getting a ride meant he'd be home faster. "okay my love. you want me to run you a bath for when you come home ?" you knew how sore reiner got from working, and being out in the sun all day. with the weather becoming warmer it would become harder on him, and he'd always forget to wear sunscreen which meant he'd burn.

he let out a soft moan. "that sounds great baby, thank you so much."

you heard talking from his end, assuming it was jack. you tried to keep listening but reiner's voice cut in again. "only ten more minutes and im back to you."

you smiled, getting excited that he'd be here so soon. "okay lovey, i'll get that bath started. i love you."

you could hear his smile on the other end. "i love you too baby, thank you so much."

you quickly said your goodbyes before hanging up, cutting him off. you felt a bit bad but quickly brushed it off as you walked to your bathroom. you got everything together, moving from the bathroom to your bedroom and back again. you set out a clean towel, a pair of sweats and a white tank top for him, as well as a hoodie if he was cold. you filled up the tub, making sure it was hot, before adding a cup of epsom salt and stirring it around with your hand. you got up again, going to the kitchen area of your little home and filling up a cup with a jug of cold water from the fridge. you brought it back to the small bathroom, sitting it on the tank cover of the toilet. he needed to be hydrated.

you were changing the sheets of your shared bed when you heard the from door open, close, then lock. reiner dropped his backpack and toed off his shoes. he hung up his jacket before slowly walking around the apartment, cracking his neck and stretching his arms above his head. "baby ? where are you ?"

"in here rei, just changing the sheets." you called out. you could hear his heavy footsteps make his way down the hall towards you.

he thought you looked beautiful. dressed in just a tee shirt (his tee shirt) and plaid pyjama pants, the lights from the city reflecting all around the room and on your body, a small lamp which casted a soft warm glow around the room, made your eyes shine.

"you don't have to change the sheets baby." he whispered, making his way over to you. he helped you put the comforter over the bed. a simple grey colour, which matched the baby pink sheets and pillow cases.

"i wanted to. you always feel good sleeping in new sheets." you answered, making your way around the bed to him. you wrapped your arms around his torso while he wrapped his around your shoulders, pulling you close and kissing your head. he sighed, and just held you while you rubbed his back.

"your bath is ready, and i left you clothes for you there too." you whispered. he hummed in response before squeezing you tighter.

"i missed you so much." his words were soft, but held a lot of weight, and your heart hurt because you knew he was working himself to the bone.

"it's okay baby, i'm here now."

he nodded before kissing your head again. he smelt your hair, sighing before pulling back to look at your face. "did you shower ?"

"when i got home, yeah."

"okay. i won't be long then."

you shook your head, moving your arms so you could hold his face in your hands. "no rei, take all the time you need. i'll wait for you." you knew that reiner was too tired to fight you on that, so he simply nodded, giving you a soft kiss before stripping down to his underwear and leaving the room.

you put his clothes in the hamper, putting his wallet on his bedside table and plugging his phone in to charge. then you opened up the window so the cool breeze could come in, you knew reiner liked the room to be a bit cooler at night.

slowly you made your way to the bathroom, peaking in to see him in the bath, the water up to his neck as he was almost fully submerged. his eyes were closed and his breathing was slow, you could see his tan lines from working. his muscles that bulged even when relaxed and the crinkles in his eyes from smiling so much, even when he was so young. his stuble which was just a bit darker than his sandy blond hair, and his calloused hands from his labour, wrapped around his torso in a hug. those hands that held you, that protected you, that tickled you, that loved you. you never got to admire reiner often, usually because he'd notice early on and tell you to stop, he'd get all flustered and his face would turn red, getting all blushy that his lover wanted to look at how beautiful he was. and he was, reiner was gorgeous, and its a blessing to call him yours.

his voice was raspy from not speaking for so long. "baby, stop looking at me like that." you could see the apples of his cheeks turn pink while his lips quirked up into a small.

"i can't help it, you're just so pretty." you replied, walking into the small bathroom and closing the door behind you. it took less than two steps to get towards him, and you crouched down beside the tub to look at him closer.

he slowly opened his eyes, like he was in a daze, before peeling an arm away from his body and holding it out for you to take. you grabbed his hand with both of yours, rubbing his palm and fingers while you softly kissed his knuckles. you two never looked away as you did so, relishing in the soft moment together.

he closed his eyes again, and sighed while moving deeper into the tub, making the water go from his neck to his chin, and his long legs stick out of the water at the knees. "you know that face mask you have baby ? the one that peels off and makes your face smooth ?" he asked, his voice echoing throughout the room.

"yeah," you mumbled against his hand. "you wanna use it ? want me to put it on for you ?"

he nodded. you slowly put his hand back into the water before crawling to the cabinet under the sink, reaching for your peel off face mask, you turned around and went back to your love, shifting as close as you could ger before the toilet got in the way, before opening the tube and squeezing some onto your hand. the clear gel felt cool on your finger tips, and you rubbed it along both pointer and middle finger on your two hands, before leaning over the side of the tub and rubbing some on his face. you made sure to keep it away from his facial hair and his eyebrows. after rubbing it in you rinsed your hands off in the bathwater, before moving them to hold reiner's hand again. "if you cant peel some if it off after its dry just rinse with warm water, okay ?" reiner nodded before squeezing your hand. "thank you baby."

you two sat in silence for a couple of minutes, just listening to each others breathing and the slight swish of the water. "i'm gonna make some tea, would you like any ?" you asked.

reiner shook his head. "i'll just steal a sip of yours."

you chuckled before kissing the back of his hand, a smile on your face. "okay my love, i'll wait for you in the bedroom."

he leaned over quickly, grabbing your face with his free hand and giving you a soft kiss, over and over again. his lips were a bit chapped, which caused your own to tickle, but to him it felt great. this was so domestic, so simple, it made him feel safe, it made reiner forget all about his horrible day. all he could think about was you, all he could feel was you.

because of your kiss some of the product from his face mask had transferred onto yours, causing him to giggle before wiping it away with his pruny hand. "i love you so much baby. i'm so happy to be with you." he whispered, his face millimetres from your own.

"thank you rei, i love you too." you responded. you loved him so much, you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. and you're sure you will.

you pecked his lips before kissing his hand one more time, then you got up and left the bathroom, reiner's eyes on you as you went.

you went about tidying up the living room, putting away reiner's dinner on the table (if he didn't scarf it down when he came in, you knew he wouldn't touch it until tomorrow) turning off the tv and folding up the blanket you were snuggled up with on the couch almost an hour ago.

you quickly boiled your water for your tea, getting out your favourite mug and putting the tea bag in. then you went into your bedroom, where you moved through the open window to sit on the fire escape. the breeze of the night brought with it a chill, and you wished you'd brought that blanket with you. the lights and the cars moving down brought comfort to you. after living here for over a year, the noise became berable to you, just second nature.

you could hear faint shuffling inside the bedroom, before reiner's head popped out of the window. "i was looking everywhere for you."

you gave him a sheepish smile. "sorry my love, would you like to join me ?" he nodded and crawled out of the window too, which was a bit hard considering his long limbs. he sat down beside you, his skin looking soft and smooth, his hair wet and all dressed in his hoodie and sweats.

the two of you huddled together, watching people walk by and cars drive around, looking into the windows of other apartments and stores, seeing if you could see the people inside doing weird things. you two passed the mug of tea between each other, before all that was left was the wet tea bag at the bottom of the cup. reiner reached up and set it on the window sill, before pulling you into his side by your shoulders.

"do your muscles hurt still ?" you asked.

reiner shook his head before replying. "not anymore, thank you again for the bath."

you giggled, turning your head to look up at him, he looked down at your own head, resting on his shoulder, and matched the smile that painted your lips. "you don't have to thank me so much silly, i love taking care of you."

he rubbed his nose against your own. "i love taking care of you too. which is why i was thinking of looking for a new job."

your eyes opened again and he watched your reaction closely. "that tech company near downtown, they're looking for a new software developer. i've already set up an interview, i just didn't know when to tell you." he whispered.

your eyes lit up as you smiled again, leaning up and smacking kisses all over his face. he let out a loud laugh before cupping your face with his hand, guiding your head away from his own so he could speak, but you started talking before that could happen. "i'm so happy for you. i hate seeing you come home so tired and in pain."

he nodded. "and i hate seeing you come home with a new story of some creep making moves on the love of my life." he replied, giving you a soft kiss.

you two sat in silence again. reiner felt happy that you weren't upset about his idea for a new job, he had a degree, and a great mind, and he somehow knew he'd get this job.

"y'know," you started. "that new art museum that opened near the science centre, they're hiring too. said on their website they're looking for tour guides."

reiner pulled you closer to him, if that was even possible. "baby you'd be great at that. you know so many art things."

"'art things?'" you laughed. "yeah, maybe i'll call and see if i could get an interview."

reiner nodded. "that sounds great baby. but tomorrow, your tea made me so sleepy and now i just wanna sleep." you shook your head with a chuckle before pecking him on the lips again.

you two made your way inside, closed the window, and got ready for bed. while you put the mug back into the kitchen sink, reiner took off his hoodie and unfolded the comforter from the bed, ready to get under. when you came back inside you shut off the lamp and got in beside him, where reiner immediately pulled you into his chest.

your head rested on his bare pec, and you could hear his heart thumping. he was calm, content, and happy with you in his arms. and you two went to bed that night with dreams about your future together.

not me going overboard with that one 😁👍 anyways love u all stay safe requests r open 😍🙏

#attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan x reader #reiner braun #reiner braun x gn!reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun headcanons #modern au #shingeki no kyoujin #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyoujin imagine #attack on titan reiner #aot reiner #attack on titan requests

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abbysfrenchbraid · 4 years ago

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Daring - Chapter 3

This is the last chapter for Daring! If you haven't, read part one and two first 💛 This is just a very fluffy chapter with vanilla smut at the end (with love for all of you who got whiplash from my last fic).

CW for alcohol consumption, language, talk of loss/trauma, sex and SPOILER WARNING for Guillermo del Toro's The Shape of Water. I will spoil the ending for the movie here so if you want to watch it first and haven't yet, now's the time! Honestly, it's an amazing movie and I'd love to hear your thoughts on it, so lmk if you have ~thoughts~

Chapter 3 - Home

The days until Thursday went just as excruciatingly slow as the days before your first date had. The only difference was that now you knew what to expect. Or did you? You knew she liked you, too. Wanted you, too. She had told you every night on the phone. Every day after you finished at work you waited patiently for Abby to get off her shift, too. She was on day shifts at the moment, usually from 6 am to 4 pm, but more often than not it took a few hours longer.

Abby was very kind with her patients, often taking people back home from the hospital or helping them get accommodated in their hospital rooms. It cost her a lot of time, but when she told you how grateful they all were you could hear how much she cared.

“I’m telling you Y/N, she actually cried in my arms. This poor old lady, I think she must have been over 80. She could barely raise her arms to put on the gown, the fall had stunned her pretty bad.”

You and Abby were cooking on FaceTime, or rather you were pouring yourself some cereal and Abby was making pasta with fresh tomatoes and herbs. You wished you were there.

“I hope she recovers fast,” you said, pouring in the milk. “It must be awful, being away from home in that state.”

“Yeah,” Abby sighed, “but she luckily didn’t break anything. It’s horrible though, the way elderly people bruise. She is going to have every single step of those stairs visible on her torso for at least a week.”

You took your phone and bowl, using your elbow to open the door to your room. Leah winked at you from the bathroom, toothbrush in her mouth and water dripping from her hair. She was going out with Nora and Jordan, seeing some action movie.

“You’re incredible for taking the time to help her. Did she really have no one else?”

Abby sprinkled some basil into her pasta sauce.

“I don’t think so. She was pretty confused, but she said her daughter lives in New York and she didn’t want me to call her. I’m gonna check on her tomorrow when I have a minute between calls.”

“Oh speaking of…” You leaned back against your headboard and propped up your phone against your thigh, staring into your bowl. “Are we still on tomorrow?”

Abby laughed quietly.

“Baby, I’ve been counting the hours. I can’t wait.” You felt a pull in your stomach at the name. She had never called you baby before. Looking at her, you could see she was trying to hide her nervousness. You smiled at her.

“When can I come over?”

“I hope I get off at 5 and they don’t rope me into an emergency in the last minute of my shift. I’ll just call you as soon as I head out and you can come over straight away. I’ll buy all the groceries we need tonight.”

“Hey, I can -” you protested, but Abby cut you off.

“No, you just grace me with your presence, that’s enough. You don’t know the exact ingredients anyway.”

You smiled and finished your cereal. You couldn’t wait.

Abby called you at 6 pm, still sitting in the passenger seat of the ambulance.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t call sooner.” Little strands of hair had fallen out of her braid and framed her face, some of them looking damp with sweat. There was a flush on her face and dark circles loomed under her eyes. You felt just a little bit guilty, having stayed up with her on facetime until after midnight the night before.

“Don’t worry, I’m not the one working extra hours. How was your shift?”

“Honestly? Terrible.” You knew Abby was not one to complain, so that really had to mean something. You saw her sway in the seat as the ambulance pulled into the garage and finally came to a halt. “I’ll tell you about it later, okay? I’ll be home in half an hour, so just come over whenever you want. I’ll leave the front door unlocked in case I’m still in the shower.”

A prickle went over your skin at the thought, but you quickly pushed it away. Abby was obviously exhausted, this was not the time to imagine her and you in a shower.

“Are you sure you really want to cook? We could just order takeout and call it a night.”

Abby considered it for a moment. It had to have been the worst day. She quickly spoke to the person next to her in the driver’s seat, then you heard the car door being shut. Abby looked back at you.

“Abby. Let me take care of you.” Your voice was soft. You wished you could brush the loose strands of hair behind her ear. The blonde sighed and unfastened her seatbelt.

“Just come over, okay? We can decide then. I just want you with me.”

You jumped up and grabbed the bag you had already prepared for sleeping over, a bottle of Merlot on top of your clothes.

“I’m on my way. I can’t wait to see you,” you said as you struggled to put on your shoes with one hand.

“See you soon,” Abby smiled and ended the call.

You called out a goodbye to Leah and she yelled back “Go get her!” Smiling to yourself, you closed the door behind you and rushed to the train station.

Sitting in the uncomfortable plastic seat of the train, you couldn’t help but grow more and more nervous, just like the last time. But this time was different, you reminded yourself. This time you could make your way straight into Abby’s arms, straight to her lips. You secretly checked your breath in your hand. The train arrived both too quickly and not fast enough.

After knocking at the front door twice without any answer, you made your way inside the house. Abby had told you to just come in, but you felt like an intruder nonetheless. Where could you wait without taking up space that wasn’t hers? You didn’t want to be sitting there like a movie villain when she came down. You called out but there was no answer, only the bass of a rock song playing upstairs and the sound of water rushing through pipes in the wall.

Deciding to make your presence as visible as possible, you dropped your bag on the stairs and took the bottle of the wine to the kitchen. Abby’s heavy paramedic jacket was thrown over a chair and her keys were on the table. An empty glass was standing next to them, water droplets running down on the outside and leaving a wet ring on the wooden surface. You picked it up and placed it in the sink, drying the spot with a tea towel. Then you took out two wine glasses from the cupboard you had put them into after cleaning up the last time and put them on the counter. You leaned against it, wondering what you should do now.

Thankfully, you heard the water shut off upstairs and a few seconds later there was the soft thump of naked heels on tile floor. You decided just to wait until Abby came down. It only took two minutes, then you heard her on the stairs. She slowed when she reached the bottom, probably noticing your bag.

“Y/N?” Her voice was light, but there was excitement in it, carefully restrained.

“I’m in the kitchen!” You suddenly didn’t know what to do with your hands and reached for the bottle, then realized you didn’t have an opener and you probably wouldn’t be able to use one either. You let your arms drop to your side and Abby entered the kitchen, stopping a few steps from you.

She looked beautiful. She was wearing a light grey cutoff shirt and dark navy sweatpants. Her hair was still wet and hung loosely over her shoulders, darkening the cotton where it touched the fabric. Her face was still tired and her shoulders slumped slightly, but her eyes had lit up at the sight of you.

“You’re here!” She held out her hands, still not moving from her spot.

You closed the distance and threw your arms around her, burying your face in her neck.

“I’m here,” you mumbled and Abby’s arms closed around you, encasing you completely. She smelled wonderful, moisture still evaporating from her skin and warmth spreading from her body to yours where you touched. Your excitement didn’t falter, but your nervousness did. A wave of calm came over you. You were here.

“I’m sorry your day was so terrible,” you murmured, lips brushing the skin of Abby’s throat just above the neckline of her shirt. “Wanna spend the rest of it on the couch?”

Her upper body fell forward into you and her forehead came to rest on your shoulder. She nodded and you gave her waist a gentle squeeze before drawing back, resting your foreheads together and cradling her cheek with your hand.

“Come on, then. Let’s order you some food. I brought wine as well if you want some.”

Abby sighed.

“I’d love some.”

You wanted to step aside and take the glasses to the living room but Abby’s arms around you tightened and the corner of her mouth lifted.

“You’re an angel,” she whispered. And then she kissed you.

It was sweet, gentle, and tired, her lips soft and warm. You melted into her, both of you clinging to each other for a moment until Abby pulled away smiling. She took the bottle of wine and rummaged through a drawer for the opener. You held the glasses and watched her open the bottle, brows knit together and her tongue peeking out between her lips. It was both adorable and incredibly hot. You sat down on the large sofa together and Abby poured both of you a generous amount, then you clinked glasses and the blonde stole another kiss.

“Alright,” you unlocked your phone, “what are you craving?”

Abby gave you an amused look before she let her head fall back on the sofa cushion and thought for a second.

“Do you like Mexican food? Burritos?”

“Love it,” you said, searching for the closest restaurant and checking their website for delivery service. Abby just hummed in approval when she saw which one you had picked out. You placed the order together, Abby’s right hand never releasing yours as she clumsily used her left to pick her food. When the order was sent, you threw your phone to the foot of the sofa.

“So,” you said, turning to your side in order to get a better look at the blonde. “Wanna tell me about work?”

Abby sighed and opened her arm for you to crawl into. You gladly scooted closer, resting your head on her shoulder and throwing an arm over her stomach. When she spoke, you could feel the thrum of her voice in her chest.

“I went in early to check on the old lady who fell yesterday and found out she’d fallen again last night. She hadn’t told anyone because she was embarrassed, but I could tell something was wrong. Turns out her arm was broken in three places. I had them call her daughter even though she begged me not to bother her. I don’t know what her daughter is like, but I hope she takes care of her.”

You hummed and pushed yourself even closer to Abby’s side.

“After that, we had a call because of a domestic violence case. The police were there already, it was horrible.”

She rubbed a hand over her face and you pressed a kiss to her collarbone.

“After that, we had to go straight to another family dispute that ended in someone being stabbed with a steak knife. We got them to the hospital fast enough and it all went well in the end but I just hate cases that revolve around psychological trauma as well. All those family issues… I hate it.”

You could only imagine how horrible this must be for her after what had happened to her dad. Though you still didn’t know the whole story and you could probably find out easily by googling her name, you didn’t want to feel like an intruder in her past. She would tell you when she was ready.

“I’m glad you’re telling me about it,” you said, trying to sound firm and gentle at the same time.

Abby let out a little huff that sounded slightly surprised.

“Yeah, I don’t usually do that. Normally I would have just shoved all that into the back of my mind and tried to make this evening go perfect. Not that I don’t want to put in the effort with you-”

“I know,” you interrupted her, raising your head to smile at her, noses brushing against each other. “I think this is perfect. You are.”

You moved in for a kiss and Abby placed a hand on the back of your head, holding you gently as your lips touched. She deepened the kiss soon, breath going a little faster as her arms pulled you even closer. You threw your leg over her thigh, half on top of her now. Her tongue was smooth and hot against yours and when her teeth scraped over your bottom lip, you let out a whimper that she caught in another kiss. Feeling bold, you finally moved on top of Abby, straddling her thigh and placing your hands left and right of her flushed face. You rolled your hips forward and she made a guttural sound, low and hungry.

Her hands were all over you, pressing between your shoulder blades, wrapping around your waist, grabbing your hips to make you grind forward again, then finally cupping your ass and digging her fingers into the muscle. You stopped trying to keep yourself from panting and leaned forward to kiss Abby’s jaw, then the soft spot beneath her earlobe. She drew up her leg behind you, pressing her thigh between your legs, and you whimpered into her ear.

“Abby,” you whispered, “what are you doing to me?”

“Anything you want,” she murmured against your cheek, “anything, baby.”

You could hear your pulse drumming in your ears as you kissed the blonde fiercely, then moved your lips over that chiseled jaw again before biting the delicate skin of her throat. You dragged your tongue over her pulse point, actually feeling the beat of her heart fluttering against your sensitive nerve endings. She smelled intoxicating, warm, and earthy, and it made you want to take her in completely, to drown in her and never come to the surface again.

Her hands were on your hips again, guiding them against hers as she let out another low moan, lips parted and pupils blown as she looked at you with a mixture of amazement and pure, burning desire. You let your hands wander down her torso, trailing your fingers along the hem of her shirt and slipping them underneath. Abby’s skin was radiating heat, her stomach flexing beneath your touch.

“May I?” You asked, your voice breathless. Abby just nodded, lifting her arms over her head and arching her back so you could push the fabric up, revealing her broad frame, toned abs, and a black sports bra. You threw the shirt to the side and fell back onto her, your chests pressing together as you enveloped her in another heated kiss. You ground down against her thigh, the seam of your jeans pressing against all the right places. Abby’s hands were on your back again, broad and warm and reassuring.

You stayed like that for a while, melting into each other, catching the other’s breath, and trying to move in ways that would get the other to moan even though you were both still shy and careful about making noise. Abby twisted her pelvis ever so slightly so you could keep riding her thigh and hit her hipbone at the front of every movement. You responded by pulling her damp hair and making her hiss before she pulled you in and kissed you fiercely.

“God, Abby…” Heat was pooling at the bottom of your stomach and there was a sudden, almost painful sensitivity to your core. Pleasure had sneaked up on you without you noticing, completely surprising you with its intensity as Abby rolled her hips upward and you had no choice but to cry out. There was a hunger in her eyes, a triumphant glint and she held your face gently with one hand while the other was tight around your hip, guiding your movements against her and pressing into your flesh.

“Fuck, Abby, fuck, I’m so -” She swallowed your whimpers with another searing kiss, her tongue pressing into your mouth and her thumb stroking your cheek.

“Come on, baby, you’re so good, so beautiful, baby,” Abby mumbled against your lips, followed by more sweet compliments and hot kisses, her eyes always on yours. You found the perfect angle at last and dug your fingers into her shoulder, your moans going high and fast as you pressed your forehead to hers. She placed a last gentle kiss on your lips and you came undone on top of her. Her hands caught you easily, stroking you through your high, her lips caressing every inch of your face. Her skin was warm beneath you and slightly sweaty. You licked a small stripe up the side of her throat and kissed her jaw.

Abby pulled back just an inch to get a better look at your face, running her hands through your hair and over your cheeks, then down your shoulders and coming to rest around your waist.

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever known,” she said quietly and with a blissful smile. “An angel.”

Her gaze was so piercing, so raw and knowing that you suddenly had the urge to bury your face in your hands, to hide from this infinite feeling inside of you that you could see in Abby’s eyes as well. You forced yourself to hold her gaze and reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face.

“I’ve never… this has never happened to me before,” you confessed softly. “You are doing things to me I never even dreamed of.”

Abby chuckled at that and caught your hand, kissing every knuckle and then the inside of your palm.

“We fit well, don’t we?” It was cautious, a step forward with no weight on it yet, a hand on a door handle.

“We do.” You grinned at her, and maybe it was the rush of the high that still hadn’t faded or a rare wave of courage, but you decided to rip open that door from the other side. You sat up and placed a hand on her sternum, feeling her heart thrum beneath your palm.

“Abby, I want to be with you. I’ve wanted to for a long time. You don’t have to have an answer right now, but just know that I’m already yours, no matter what.”

For a moment, Abby didn’t seem to fully comprehend. Then she frowned, the smile not fully leaving her lips but turning bittersweet. You felt your stomach drop. Had you spoken too soon?

“Y/N.” Abby’s hand covered yours on her chest. “I’d love nothing more.” A weight fell off your shoulders. Abby wasn’t done talking yet.

“I’m a difficult person to… be with. I’ve really put in all I had with you so far, but there are times when I will be cold and closed off and I won’t be able to let you in, to let anyone in. I don’t know if I could hurt you like that.” She squeezed your hand now, her eyes glossy. “I’m not saying this because I’m scared or unsure, I’m saying this to give you an out. Or at least some more time to really get to know what it’s like with me in your life. I can be exhausting. At least that’s what I’m told.”

You felt something hot flare up in your throat. That was not fair.

“Who told you that?”

“Owen. I mean, he’s the only person who knows what it’s like being with me and he certainly didn’t like it very much.” Even with her broad shoulders, her set jaw, all her muscles, she looked strangely small now. You felt like you were going to burst with rage.

“Abby, do you honestly think an ex’s opinion of you counts? To me? I don’t give a shit what Owen thinks because I’m not him and this is not the same thing. I get to decide what it’s like and so far it’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” You placed both your hands on her cheeks and leaned forward. “Babe, stop trying to deny yourself happiness. You deserve to be happy. And if I make you happy, if you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

Abby sat up straight, her face now directly in front of yours, and wrapped her arms around you tightly. She blinked the tears away, a smile beginning to tug on her lips.

“You’re mine?”

“Only yours.”

She kissed you and you could feel her grin against your mouth, smooth teeth softly clicking against yours.

“Mine,” she mumbled and began trailing kisses down your throat, hands now wandering down your back and under your t-shirt where they immediately provoked goosebumps to spread over your entire body. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Both of you pulled back with surprised faces.

“The food!” you realized and you had to laugh as you scrambled to get up from the couch. You had almost forgotten how hungry you were. Abby quickly pulled on her shirt, grabbed her wallet, and opened the door, hair wild and her lips still red and swollen. You hovered in the background, probably looking just as disheveled, and tried not to giggle like an idiot.

The delivery guy took one look at you and just gave Abby an amused smirk as he handed her the food. She tipped him generously and thanked him before closing the door and turning to you, both of you frozen in your spots for a second. Then you both burst out in laughter. Abby was next to you in three strides and pressed a kiss to the top of your head before you let yourself flop down on the sofa together. Abby had ordered two large burritos, you had chosen a vegetarian taco bowl and a big bag of tortilla chips with salsa and guacamole. While you unpacked all the food and laid it out on the coffee table, Abby turned on the TV and scrolled through the movie options.

After some looking around, you decided to watch The Shape of Water, which you hadn’t seen yet despite being a big Guillermo del Toro fan. You ate in silence, letting the film pull you into a cold war era story of a mute woman, her gay best friend, and a strange fish-human being in the facility she was a cleaner at. You generally avoided watching more artistic, less Hollywood-typical movies with other people in fear of them constantly ridiculing the story to hide their own discomfort with monsters, but Abby was just as immersed in the story as you were. Sally Hawkins was a fantastic actress and the amphibian man was beautifully designed and a fascinating character. Del Toro’s handwriting was all over the film - beautiful colors and cinematography, fairytale monsters next to very human, real-life ones, the fear of the Other and the idea that maybe if one just dares to look beyond, the Other may have a story to tell and love to give.

When you had finished your food, you snuggled up to Abby, occasionally feeding her chips with guacamole and kissing the salt from her lips. During the final scenes when the shooting happened, Abby tensed up next to you. You hadn’t even thought about movies possibly triggering her or making her uncomfortable. Fuck, you should have looked it up beforehand. Now all you could do was press your temple to her collarbone and wrap your arms around her as tightly as possible.

“Do you want to turn it off?” You mumbled, your thumb drawing circles on her ribcage. You could feel Abby shake her head.

“It’s okay, I’m used to it by now. The movie is almost over anyway.” She pressed a kiss to your forehead and pulled you close. The ending was beautiful and heart-wrenching and you shed a few tears, staining Abby’s shirt. She just smiled and kissed the tears from your cheeks.

“Did you like it?” You asked tentatively, not sure if the shooting may have ruined it for Abby.

“I loved it.” Her expression was warm. “That scene in which she talks about the way he sees her without any of her flaws, just her, and how her fight for his life is what makes her human was beautiful.”

“And then in the end she wasn’t human after all,” you added, “I’ve never really seen it that way around. Usually, the beast turns into a prince at the end. I always hate that. Why can’t the monster stay a monster after having proven their love and their honor and whatever else is needed to redeem them, you know?”

Abby thought about that for a moment, her eyes going unfocused.

“That’s true. In so many stories, all the things that make the monster monstrous are stripped away as soon as they have proven their worth and found true love. It doesn’t work like that in real life. We all have things inside that could deem us monsters and it’s only when we hope to have found love that we can dare to reveal them and hope the other person loves us anyway.”

Something warm spread inside you, reaching out to every corner of your body, every toe and every fingertip. You leaned in and kissed her gently.

“The silver plate.”

Abby looked confused for a second, then she remembered the things she had said during your last date.

“Yeah, my own monstrous silver plate.” She smiled. “Scared?”

“Not at all,” you grinned and climbed on top of her. “I’ll devour you.”

You pressed your lips to hers her and it quickly turned into another heated makeout session. Your limbs were tangled together and her hands roamed your body as you kissed her neck and when she finally asked: “can I?” you almost knocked your head against her jaw trying to sit up so she could take off your shirt.

Sitting up on her hips, you dragged your nail from her ear to the hem of her shirt, scratching the skin and making her hiss, eyes burning.

“Want to show me your bedroom?” you asked, trying not to lose your focus at the feeling of her hands wandering up your thighs. You yelped as Abby sat and stood up in one swift motion, arms secure around your waist and thighs so you’d stay pressed to her chest. You wrapped your legs around her and laughed into her mouth before she kissed you again.

The tall blonde carried you up the stairs like it was nothing, making soft noises when you bit into the soft skin just below her jaw.

“Y/N…” She kicked open a door and didn’t give you any time to look around, crawling on the bed and trapping you under her large body, attacking you with kisses, all teeth and tongue. It was glorious.

You pulled on Abby’s shirt until she grunted and took it off herself, then her hands were trailing the skin above the waistband of your jeans. More, more, more.

“Can I take those off?” Abby asked, sitting back on her knees between your legs.

“Please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips for better access, but Abby had other plans. She let her hands wander over your upper body, her fingers teasing your nipples over the thin fabric of your bralette, then softly tickling your stomach on their way down. Finally, she opened the button of your jeans and slowly opened the zipper, her eyes flickering up to your face and back down to her hands.

“Come ooon,” you begged, “please, Abby.”

There was the hint of a smirk on her lips, but she complied and pulled off your jeans, both of you laughing as they caught around your ankles and Abby had to wrestle them off. Then Abby’s hand was on your foot and she held it in place on her shoulder, slowly kissing her way up your leg. Your breath got faster with every inch she came closer to your heated center, that place that had gotten a taste of what was to come and wanted more. She dragged her lips over your clothed core and your legs trembled, a gasp escaping you.

Abby took her time with you, kissing your stomach and chest before taking off your bralette and teasing your nipples with a gentle tongue and fluttering fingers. You were squirming beneath her, a mess of pleasure and want for more, begging her to touch you. Finally, she sat back up and hooked her fingers under the waistband of your panties, keeping eye contact and pulling them down slowly. Her gaze was burning, pupils wide, lips hanging open and breath going in shallow pants.

Her tongue was heaven, it was heat and silk and everything at once, enveloping you in waves of ecstasy and making you moan and bury your hands in her hair. She was gentle, cleaning up the mess you had made earlier and the one just now, broad tongue and small circles sending your hips up to meet her, her fingers around your thighs too far away.

“Abby, please…” you gasped and she looked up to meet your gaze. You melted inside.

“What do you want, baby?” Her voice was deep and husked, lips shining with your juices.

“Your fingers.” You gave her hand a light push downward and with a smile, she complied.

If you had thought you had already reached the pinnacle of pleasure, the best there was, you had been oh so wrong. Abby’s fingers were magical, teasing you and filling you up, stroking against that tender spot inside you, then slowing down as her tongue made you see stars, complying when you begged her for more, faster, harder. Your legs hadn’t stopped shaking in what felt like forever, your fingers were cramped into Abby’s beautiful blonde mane and you were crying out her name over and over again as she brought you to your peak, guiding you through it and moaning along with you as your juices covered her fingers and her tongue.

When she finally crawled back up to meet you, her arms were shaking slightly and her face was flushed. You still felt like you were somewhere far away, but her smile pulled you back to the present. She kissed you, letting you taste yourself on her tongue. Slowly, you let your hand wander down and play with the seam of her sweatpants and the hem of her boxers peeking out underneath.

“Wanna take these off?” you mumbled in her ear and you could see she was trying to keep her composure as she tried to get out of her pants as fast as possible before coming back to you. She stopped and looked unsure suddenly.

“Is it okay if I keep these on for now?” She gestured to her sports bra and underwear.

“Of course, baby. Can I touch you?” You whispered, one hand on the back of her neck as the other wandered lower. Abby nodded and kissed you again.

“Yes, please,” she whispered back. You slid your hand into her boxers and were greeted by wet heat, desire practically pooling in your palm. Both of you gasped at the same time, eyes flying open to meet each other’s, bodies grinding together.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet,” you cooed and watched Abby dissolve in front of you, blood shooting into her cheeks before she buried her face in your neck and began leaving lovebites on your throat. You dragged your fingers between her folds, relishing in the tiny noises she made whenever you touched her clit or came near her entrance.

You put all your strength into throwing Abby to the side and rolling on top of her, hand never leaving her center. She laughed in surprise and grabbed the back of your neck to pull you in, and at that moment you slid a finger inside her. Her eyes went wide and the noise she made would visit your dreams for the rest of your days. You kept your lips wandering over her throat and back to her lips, pulling moan after moan from her with your fingers, gently pushing inside her and curling upward, your thumb drawing circles on her clit. After a while, you could see her abs flexing as her core convulsed rhythmically, her moans getting higher and breathless, her fingers digging into your waist.

“Will you come for me, Abby?” you whispered and kissed her again. Her hips bucked up into your hand and she made a strangled noise, then her legs clamped together around your fingers and she sighed, tongue darting out to brush against yours as you slowly pulled your hand from her sensitive core.

You threw your thigh over her hips and pressed your face into the crook of her neck, giving her time to breathe as you drew patterns on her bare stomach with your fingers.

“Baby…” she mumbled above you, voice vibrating through her chest. “That was… I don’t even have words.”

You grinned up at her and she brushed your hair behind your ear. Her gaze was full of love and adoration, like sunlight warming your skin, soft fingertips caressing your cheeks.

“I’ve never felt so safe,” you said, resting your head on her shoulder so you could look at her. “You’re so careful.”

Abby smiled and followed the path of your fingers with her eyes.

“I’ve had other experiences in the past that made me realize how important it is to always check on your partner.” She looked down at her clothed hips. “Thank you for… not making this weird. I’m just… one step at a time.”

“Of course, baby.” You moved your lips closer to her ear. “I think it’s really fucking hot, you between my legs in those boxers, all muscles and freckles. But then when I touch you, you’re so needy, just a wet mess, coming on my fingers in your underwear.”

Abby let out a shaky breath, chest trembling at your words. She laced her fingers between yours and pressed them to her sternum.

“You leave me speechless every time,” she said, voice quiet and content.

“I love it.” You pulled the blanket up with your foot and covered both of your bodies up to your hips, yawning into her shoulder. Abby chuckled quietly.

“Do you need to set an alarm for tomorrow?” She reached over to the bedside table, then let her arm drop. “Our phones are still downstairs.”

You groaned and rolled onto your back before blinking up at Abby innocently, hoping she would go and get them. She just laughed and got up, stretching her arms and making the muscles on her back dance beautifully.

“You need to go pee,” she said with raised eyebrows. You sighed and lazily rolled out of bed, pulling the blanket up around you.

Abby showed you the bathroom across the hall and made her way down the stairs, a bounce in her step. You could hear her clean up the takeout containers and throw away the trash in the kitchen. Suddenly there was a noise outside, a deep voice and the jingle of keys at the door. You froze with the towel in your hands. The front door opened and Manny tried to stay quiet in that completely ineffective way most men do, dropping his shoes with loud thumps and whispering into his phone so loudly you could hear every word.

“Hi, Manny,” Abby said in the hallway. Keys dropped to the floor with a clunk.

“Dios mio! What the hell are you doing sneaking around here, Abby? You just get back from the gym?” You could hear her laugh quietly as he tried to catch his breath.

“I could ask you the same. Weren’t you supposed to come back tomorrow?”

You snuck back into her bedroom on tiptoes, wrapping the blanket around you tightly and staying near the door to hear the conversation downstairs.

“Had to go early, my dad had a hot date tonight.” You could actually hear his grin.

“Yeah, well, me too.” Abby’s voice was dry, but you could tell she wasn’t actually annoyed.

“Really? Y/N? How'd it go?” A pause, then another loud whisper - “holy shit, she still here?

“Y/N, Manny’s home!” Abby’s raised voice rang through the house. You grinned. She knew you were listening.

“Hi, Manny!” You looked around for any clothes you could throw on quickly but came up empty. Sighing, you checked your blanket placement and went to the top of the stairs, looking down at Manny and Abby in the entrance hall.

Abby was still just in her sports bra and boxer shorts but didn’t seem to mind at all. Manny wore sweatpants and a green sweater, along with a hat that said women want me, fish fear me. Behind him were two large bags, one of them clearly full of fishing equipment. His smile lit the room.

“Hi Y/N, nice seeing you here. You two have a good night?”

You nodded and he made a knowing ah-ha sound. Abby elbowed him and red spots formed on her neck.

“Well, I’m gonna eat something and pass out. Breakfast tomorrow?” He threw a hopeful look in Abby’s direction. “When does your shift start?”

“Noon, I get late shift for the next two weeks. Y/N, what about you?” Both of them looked up at you and you shifted your weight, very aware of the way you looked right now.

“I just need to study, I can sleep in for once.”

Abby nodded and patted Manny’s shoulder.

“Breakfast at 10.”

She came up the stairs, taking two steps at a time and grinning from ear to ear. Manny vanished into the kitchen, continuing to scream-whisper into his phone. You made out the words “finally… girl is here” before Abby simply picked you up and carried you back to bed, kicking the door closed behind her.

You snuggled up together and Abby stroked your hair while she told you about her friendship with Manny and how glad she was to have him. He had been there for her through everything and he had wanted her to make a move and ask you out for weeks. You felt yourself drift away slowly.

“I’m so glad I’m here,” you mumbled, hand stroking Abby’s chest.

“Me too, baby. I still can’t believe I get to call you mine.” The bliss in her voice was the same you felt in your heart.

“Finally.” You craned your neck for a last kiss and melted beneath Abby’s soft lips and warm hands.

She held you wrapped tightly in her arms, almost as if she was scared you could vanish in the night. As if you'd ever leave her now. The last thing you thought before falling asleep was that you were finally home.

Author's note: Have you seen The Shape of Water? Did you like it? Let me know here 💌 If you'd like to support me, you can buy me a coffee here 🤎

#abby anderson #abby tlou2 #abby tlou #abby the last of us #the last us 2 #tlou abby #leah #leah tlou #abby anderson fanfiction #smut #fluff

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spacegirlapollo · 5 years ago

Text

A Hot Shower [Aizawa x Reader Smut]

Pairing : Aizawa Shouta x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut Word Count : 1900-2000 words

Summary: Its Saturday Morning and you’re not sure about how to go about getting your back blown out by your husband. (there is no real plot lmao)

----

The soft light of Saturday morning hit your sleeping face from your bedroom window. You tested opening an eye to see just how bright it was, when you realized that it was safe, you opened both eyes. You were being greeted by the soft chirps of the birds outside and the smells of morning.

You couldn’t hide your smile as you started to become accustomed to your surroundings. Your husband Aizawa Shouta had his arm around your waist lazily, even though his body was flipped to face the other direction. He’d had a late friday night being dragged out with other teachers from U.A for karaoke. You’d faintly remembered being half awake at 2 am when he climbed into bed.

Staring at his back, you imagined, waking him up with a kiss that could… lead to other things. But before you could solidify your plans to harass your sleeping husband, you were harrassed yourself.

You hadn’t seen your lanky black cat “Bean” enter the room but you definitely felt him when he jumped onto your bed next to you and began to gently paw at your exposed shoulder. Petting the cat with your free hand you smiled as Bean leaned into your hand silently yawning.

“You hungry?” You whispered. Bean blinked but almost as if he understood you, he hopped off the bed and headed for the ajar bedroom door. He looked back at you once before sliding out of the room.

Gently you slid from Aizawa’s grasp, he tossed a bit but remained asleep which wasn't surprising as he was a notorious heavy sleeper. Grabbing a t-shirt from Aizawa’s drawer you slid it on and came out of the room as quietly as your cat had. Maybe you should let him get some rest, seeing as he was always busy.

Twenty minutes later, Bean was eating happily from his bowl and you were popping grapes in your mouth absentmindedly while pulling open your oven to check on your cinnamon rolls. They weren’t quite done yet but they smelled heavenly. Closing the oven you began to contemplate what else to make for breakfast. You and Shouta liked to go on runs in the morning on Saturday, so maybe a lighter breakfast was in order. You’d been craving the rolls though and anything sweet so you were thinking, “maybe we can skip the run” when you almost jumped out of your skin at the sound of Aizawa’s voice.

“Smells good.” He was in his black boxers and a black tee, and his hair seemed to be doing everything but laying flat.

He gave you a small smile when he’d seen how he’d scared you. “ Sorry.” His eyes gave you a quick once over that didn't escape your notice.

You let out a laugh, your nervous energy releasing with it. “ It’s okay, you just need a bell or something like Bean, you walk so quietly.”

“Occupational Hazard.” he said amusement trickled over his gravely morning voice. He squatted down to pet Bean who had been trying to get his attention since he’d arrived in the kitchen. Even though you had been the one to rescue Bean, he didn't hesitate to show that he preferred your husband over you, at any time.

“How was last night?” You asked feigning innocence but failing to hide the smirk on your face. You saw his eyes narrow at this and the smirk grew into a smile. You knew he hated going alone. You usually went with, and the agreement was, that you would feign feeling tired and be the one to lead his escape. The other teachers would complain a little but not say too much, whereas when he goes alone, they keep him there till ungodly hours. You loved going, as you’d become close with some of his co-workers (the opposite of his plans). And you felt like a good wife saving him from the clutches of social outings.

You would have gone last night except for a last minute emergency with your sister.

He stood up and sighed with both hands on his hips. It took all your energy not to snicker at his annoyed face reminiscing on the previous night's adventures. You started to take out the rolls as he spilled the tea on his co-workers.

“...and Hizashi almost got us kicked out for trying to announce someone’s birthday party.”

You snorted, placing the rolls on the stove. “And let me guess, you were hoping to be kicked out.”

“No. That would have been embarrassing.” You turned to look at him and his arms were now crossed over his chest indignantly. You laughed again, shaking your head. He was so funny without knowing it.

He crossed the into the kitchen, carefully stepping over Bean who was fiending for more attention from his favorite. As you realized what he was doing, you instinctually lightly slapped his hand which was reaching for the fresh off the pan rolls.

This rewarded you with a raised eyebrow and a smile playing on his lips. “What?”’

You pouted. “ You have to let them settle, dummy.”

He turned to face you closing the distance between you in one movement, looking down a bit at your face. Despite you trying to keep your cool, his proximity brought up…. Scenarios… in your mind that were less than appropriate. And you could feel the heat on your cheeks, and your heart rate speeding up.

You wanted to slap yourself, you were acting like a girl with a crush. But you couldn't help yourself. You knew you could be forward with him. You had been before! What was so hard about asking him to take you, right then, right there.

“Y/N?” He said and you shook your head coming back up to reality.

“Huh?” You said a little embarrassed. You definitely had stopped listening to him and were staring at his lips, and his chest. You looked up at him, hoping this had escaped his notice. Of course it had not.

“ I said, how do you propose we spend that time while we wait.”

He was a little bit more awake now, and his stupid little smirk matched yours from earlier.

“Shower!’ You said, flustered. “ I mean, we should shower.”

There was no mistaking that his smirk grew larger.

“Good idea.” He said grabbing your hand and pulling you, stunned out of the kitchen.

Your bare feet made contact with the shower, and he released your hand to turn on the water in the stand up shower. You had barely registered his lack of touch when he was back again, backing you up to the counter, his hands ghosting up your shirt and resting at your bare hips.

“Just the T-shirt?” He asked, amused by your lack of underwear.

Your lips parted instinctively as he came close. THIS. Is what you’d wanted all morning, and you loved how you didn't have to ask. He moved up his left hand to cup your neck, a thumb stroking your cheek.

“Tell me what you want.” He whispered peppering hit kisses down your jaw then down your neck. With his free right hand he lifted your leg up onto the sink counter, wedging his body and hardness in between your legs.

The hand trailed up your thigh and found its way to your core, you almost hissed as he began to rub a finger against your throbbing clit.

“I want… I want.” You tried to get out.

“Hm?” He hummed against your neck, picking up the speed of his fingers. The hot water from the shower was starting to fog up the bathroom and with it your senses.

“I want you inside of me.” You moaned out, tensing from his pleasure. You could have cried when he removed his finger from you. His hands were moving fast, rolling up the t-shirt off your body as he leaned down to kiss you.

You felt for the end of his shirt pulling it off his soon as yours were off. Standing up you pulled down his boxers, revealing his hard cock and without warning you bent down to take it into your mouth.

His groan of pleasure and surprise was worth it. His hand moved to your hair knowing what you wanted. Guiding your head forward he slid his hot cock down your throat till it reached the hilt, not managing to keep a moan from his mouth. You hummed approvingly as he now moved your head back and forth with both hands choking you on his dick.

His audible hisses had your pussy throbbing with need. Humming out long moans as he picked up the pace. Each push forward sent stars to your eyes but you didn't care. He let you breathe only momentarily before filling your mouth again. His head was tilted back, his hair falling carelessly around his face as his hips bucked back and forth. He was the giver of the relationship typically, hardly letting you touch him at first. You’d slowly but surely chipped at the wall he had up that denied himself pleasure, or pleasure as an afterthought.

With every stroke you wanted him to feel good. So good. And sometimes he obliged you. His grip on your jaw stilled and you remain perfectly still as he comes down your throat, hot and fast his hands falling almost limply to his sides.

“Fuck Y/N” he said quietly as you release his dick from your mouth with a pop. You stand up and press your bare bodies together before kissing him needily. With one hand around your hips and the other sliding open the shower, he backed you into the spray of the shower, closing the glass door behind him.

The hot water hitting your back made you moan against his mouth as he pressed you flat against the wall of the shower, lifting your leg up around his waist. He slid inside your wet folds effortlessly, pulling back from kissing you to ask

“Is this what you wanted ?”

Her snapped his hips upwards causing you to tug at his now wet hair.

“Hm?” he asked again when you were to busy in ecstasy to answer.

“Yes.” You said breathily as his pace picked up ruthlessly. “Yes baby thats so good.”

You were unraveling quickly, the only leg you had to the ground was wobbling under the force of pleasure you felt from each deep stroke. He was kissing you again urgent and tenderly.

“Shouta” you whined against his lips your flat against his chest curling into fist “fuck”

He could tell you weren't going to last long, but in one smooth move he pulled out and flipped you so your chest was pressed against the wall. You moaned disappointed at the lack of him but was quickly filled up again.

One hand was down at your clit rubbing ruthless circles that brought stars to your eyes and his other hand was pressed around your neck, gently as he slammed into you.

You could hear his faltering breaths in your ear as you started to see white.

“Cum in me.” You pleaded sensing both of your mounting orgasims. He rewarded you with a breathy moan

“Fuck, Y/N” grabbing your waist with both hands. You came first, crying out his name as he continually filled you up, your pussy tightening unbelievably around his cock sending him over the edge and filling you up with his cum.

You stayed like that for a moment, both of you breathing heavily. Turning around your captured his lips again this time for a sweet kiss.

“Maybe we should actually shower now.” You said in between kisses. You let out a giggle as he pushed you back against the wall.

“No, I’m not done with you yet.”

Prolouge:

The Cinnamon rolls got dry and hard but that's okay cause you got your guts rearranged a few times before then.

#aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #aizawa x reader smut #mha fanfiction #mha #mha aizawa #bnha #aizawa shouta x reader

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sirowsky · 4 years ago

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The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Warnings: Language

Link to Masterlist

Comment: Hint to what the title is all about, and plenty of Máma Moreno.

Chapter 6

The house was a mess, to say the least. You had left in a hurry that evening, after things had taken a very sharp turn towards very bad, shortly after your dinner. You’d been glad that you had only eaten a light pea soup, when it came back up again some ten minutes later. You’d only just made it to the bathroom, but after the food had been coughed up, a large amount of fresh blood had followed, and you knew you were in trouble. Why you hadn’t called for that ambulance was anyone’s guess, but then, you had never liked being a bother, and you had been perfectly capable of walking out to the cab. It was just that, in the twenty minutes that the drive had taken, you’d gotten significantly worse. Your whole body had started hurting, you’d begun bleeding from the nose and ears, and just as you got to the hospital, you had begun to get spasms and cramps in your spine and legs. When you staggered into that emergency-room, you did it truly convinced that you’d leave it in a coffin.

You shuddered slightly with the memory, as you walked through the house, opening all the blinds and pulling all of the curtains back again. It was already late, and thus dark outside, but you wanted to wake up to a house that bathed in sunlight in the morning. The kitchen was probably the worst, in terms of the amount of cleaning that would need to be done. The remnants of your cooking that evening where still on the counter and in the dishes, and the amount of mold that was growing in there was somewhat disturbing. You couldn’t leave that for the morning, you’d lose every ounce of appetite waking up to that crap. So, you set about throwing away everything that had been left out on the counters and in the sink, and quickly scrubbed all the open surfaces clean, before handwashing some of the glasses, plates, mugs and cutlery, that had gotten dusty even sitting in the cabinets, in the four months you’d been gone. Once the kitchen felt usable again, you went to the bathroom to check what state that was in. It wasn’t too bad. You flushed all the pipes and let the water run in the sink and the shower for a good half-hour to clean them out, and begin to work away the smell of stagnated water. The toilet needed a decent scrub too, but it could wait until morning. It was after midnight when you’d finally changed the sheaths in the bed and settled in for the night.

A sharp rapping on your door woke you after what seemed like mere seconds. But the sun was up, so you looked at your wrist-watch – 06:15 – and sighed. Who the fuck would be there at that hour? Grumbling into your pillow, you turned over and decided that whoever it was would have to come back at a more decent hour.

“Come on now, mujer, I don’t have all day.”

You physically jumped at the sound of Anita Moreno raising her voice behind your front door. She wasn’t shouting, just applying a good amount of force to her voice. Just enough to make you feel a size smaller than usual. You scrambled out of bed and grabbed a robe which you put on whilst walking towards the door. You had no idea what you looked like, but you hoped there was an air of scarecrow to you. You’d found her intriguing when you first met her the day before, but she was little more than a damned annoyance right now. You were not a morning person, and especially not today when your body was tired and sore from the tests.

“I’m not gonna ask if you know what time it is, because you obviously do, and you obviously don’t care, so don’t beat around the bush and just tell me what the hell you want so I can go back to bed and finish waking up.”

“You always this cheerful in the morning?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll be sure to let Marcus know.”

“What does my morning mood have to do with Marcus?”

“Nothing. Yet…”

What? No, no, don’t let her distract you, idiot.

“What do you want, Mrs. Moreno?”

“Tell me, what kind of flowers do you like?”

Nope. You’re not doing this, whatever it is, you’re not doing it at 6 fucking 15 in the morning.

“Have a nice day, Mrs. Moreno.”

As you went to close the door, she simply barged right in, straight past you, and completely unbothered walked into your kitchen while you scrambled after her, shocked and abruptly furious.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

“Don’t you cuss at me, mujer.”

“If you want me to treat you politely, then don’t fucking barge into my house uninvited.”

“Calm down, I’m not staying for breakfast. I just want you to answer a few questions.”

Unbelievable.

“You’ve got some nerve.”

“I’m old, mujer, I don’t have time for intermissions. Now, tell me, what kind of flowers do you like?”

You were fuming, but this woman was a super. She wasn’t leaving until she decided to leave. So, you took a breath.

“Dahlias.”

“Interesting choice. Why?”

“What does it matter? What do you want from me?”

“Do you know the origin of Dahlias?”

“Why? Am I to expect a pop-quiz banging on my door tomorrow?”

“The Dahlia came from my ancestors, the Aztecs, they called it The War Flower. Nowadays, it’s known as the King of summer flowers, because of its wide range of shapes, sizes and colours. It has something of a demanding presence, you never walk past a Dahlia without seeing it. And yet, it doesn’t ask you for much.”

“Do you have a point, or is this becoming a lecture on the mythology of flora? Because I will go back to bed and ignore you until you leave.”

“It’s an observation. What’s your opinion on supers?”

“Are you serious? Ugh, forget it, of course you are. Fine. I have nothing against them, but I don’t adore or idolize them. They’re flawed just like the rest of us.”

“What’s Marcus’ flaws?”

“He’s… too kind for his own good sometimes. He let’s people walk all over him if he thinks that it’ll keep the peace. And he… tries to carry the whole world by himself if you let him.”

She smiled.

“Good. You’re hired. I expect you at Heroics HQ at 7 am tomorrow morning.”

…what THE FUCK…?!

She walked back towards the door, while you stood dumbstruck just staring after her. She had reached the door by the time you unfroze and ran out to the hallway.

“Wait, what the hell are you talking about? Hired for what? I didn’t ask you for a job.”

“No, you didn’t. But you need one, and I’ve got one. Take it or leave it, if you’re not there by 7, I’ll know what you chose.”

You stood in the door, watching her disappear into a black SUV, and drive off.

Did that actually just happen? It must have, there was no way in hell you’d ever even dream something like that. You shook your head, and decided that there was no point in going back to bed now, your head was buzzing, so you might as well have breakfast and get the cleaning going. As you went to the bathroom you caught your reflection in the mirror, and smiled to yourself. There was definitely an air of scarecrow. You turned the TV on while you made tea, and tried not to think about what had just transpired in your kitchen. You had always loved coffee before, never started the day without it ever since you were 16. But your body seemed to have become oversensitive to it after your cellular breakdown. You’d had your first cup about a month ago, and it had really done a number on you. You’d been hyperactive for hours with uncontrollable twitches and insistent trembling in your hands. You’d given it a second try a week later, but even just half of a small cup had resulted in the same outcome, so you had accepted that your coffee-days were over. You were actually really starting to like tea, especially the spicier types.

The news showed a highlight reel from the Heroics latest outing, and you found yourself glancing at the footage, looking for a glimpse of Marcus. You saw him flash by as he fought someone, or something, you weren’t sure, and then again when the fighting was over. He looked confident and strong when he was out there. When he had an enemy in front of him, and a clear task. It was enticing to watch. Oh, who were you kidding – it was fucking hot! You shook your head and turned the TV off as you finished your breakfast. There was a lot to do to get the house in order, and you had a plan to get it all done. The problem was that a certain uninvited guest kept popping into your head, distracting you with thoughts about flowers and what the hell that job was all about? So, by lunchtime, you weren’t anywhere close to where you’d hoped to be. You’d managed to wipe down all the surfaces where dust accumulated, and the vacuuming was done. But you’d hoped to have washed the floors and beaten the carpets and cleaned the refrigerator and freezer by then.

Oh, well. Rome and all that.

You decided to have pizza for lunch and called in an order. But later, as you were eating said pizza, you had something of a lightning moment. You didn’t need to sit there and just fidget and wonder and worry about what you were gonna do tomorrow. You could just go back to HQ and talk to Marcus. He’d only be happy to see you, he’d said as much when you went to find him to say goodbye. It hadn’t been a very long exchange, since you’d been eager to get going, knowing there’d be things you’d have to do before going to bed. But he had said that he’d miss you and that you’d always be welcome to visit them. So, why not? If anyone could tell you what Máma Moreno was up to, it’d be her son.

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight

@farfromjustordinary

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fic #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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fumbling-fanfics · 4 years ago

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So I know I have a bunch if request that I should be posting this one, but I really got into this one.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Black Reader, Bucky Barnes x Black Reader

Warnings: Smut!

Thanks to @my-rose-gold for proof reading.

Big thanks for you guys for reading.

Hope you like this, please reblog, like, comment etc. Also please message to be added or removed from tags, my tag list is so 2017.

*************************

Everyone needs a vacation. The Avengers were no different.

You yourself had not been part of the Avengers for long, but you were tired. Fighting aliens, robots and terrorists alike eventually took its toll. So when you were given the option to take a break and disappear for a second you were out the door behind Nat and Bucky.

You hadn't planned on taking a break with anyone else, but you found yourself just outside the South of France in a spacious villa in tiny quite village with Bucky and Steve.

***

You'd all just finished lunch, Steve was still inside the villa clearing away the plates and tidying the kitchen. Bucky was reclined back on his pool side lounger, in his swimming trunks and sunglasses.

You were sat next to him, in an oversized tee shirt, bikini underneath. Your legs were tucked under you as you read through the dramatic erotic fiction you'd found in the villa. Besides the local paper that Steve read at least six times before you or Bucky could even think to look.

Steve stepped outside, paper under his arm, to join you and Bucky by the pool. He wore swimming trunks too, but unlike Bucky, Steve also wore an open short sleeve linen shirt. His slight tan lines were cute. Bucky on the other hand was tanning all over nicely.

Steve rustled the newspaper for the millionth time as he sat at the cast iron table and chairs. Bucky shifted slightly, towards him.

"You know Steve, the whole point of the vacation is to have an actual vacation" Bucky's hand found your thigh and gave it a slight squeeze. Steve said nothing, just turned a page with a louder rustle.

As you turned your own page, you felt two large drops of sweat run down your back and cleavage. It was late June, and hot. Without waiting for another drop of sweat to make its move you dropped your book on the lounger you claimed as yours. You stepped towards the pool, stopped at the edge as you pulled the fabric of the tee shirt over your head and tossed it back behind you.

"Bucky's right Steve, relax" and with that you disappeared into the water, getting two slow laps in before you came up for air.

A few hours later Steve's shadow appeared over you at the side of the pool. When you looked up he was crouched down, holding a drink out to you, he seemed to have a similar drink in his other hand.

"Thank you" you smiled. You took a sip of the cold drink. "What time is it?" Steve rotated his free hand to check his watch. Steve was of course wearing a watch while on vacation.

"Just gone half one" he explained. You nodded, downing the rest of drink and handed him back the glass. "I better start dinner" with that you disappeared under the water and came back up, pulling yourself up out of the pool on the edge next to Steve. You walked back to your lounger where Bucky still was as, Steve followed your wet footsteps.

You grabbed up your towel, drying off the excess water. You slipped on your flip flops. "Where are you going?" Bucky asked, shifting his sunglasses a little.

"To start dinner. Do either of you have any requests or you open to my creative interpretation?" Bucky shrugged. "We trust you" Steve smiled. You leant down, taking Steve's chin in your fingers and gave him a light kiss. You sauntered off into the house.

***

You rummaged through the kitchen trying to work out what to make. You pulled some things out of the cupboards and fridge, leaving them on the counter top.

As you crossed the living room to go clean up and get ready, the cold vibranium metal of Bucky's hand and fingers found your upper arm, pulling you back against him.

"Don't I get a kiss" his lips brushed against the skin on your neck.

"After I shower" you teased, grinding back against him.

Bucky's other hand snaked around your front, sliding up between your boobs, finding your throat.

Bucky walked you to the sofa, undoing your wet bikini top and bottoms, throwing them on the floor. He pushed you down onto the sofa, stepping between your legs. He pulled down his swimming trunks, stepping out of them and slightly kicking them to one side. He leant over you, leaning on his hands either side of your waist as he kissed and lowered to his knees.

The sofa was low enough that it meant on his knees Bucky was now level with you. He tugged you forward by your hips, laying you on your back more. He held himself in one hand as he brushed the tip of cock against your entrance, not breaking eye contact with you. He smirked as you twitched in anticipation. Your fingers dug into the pillows of the sofa as he slowly entered you.

Bucky only stopped when he had slid all the way into you, pulling you down against him. He held you here for a moment, letting you both enjoy the feeling of each other.

Bucky withdrew himself slightly, enjoying the moan the action caused and how you arched your back a little.

Steve wasn't quite sure what he was expecting when he brought the empty glasses to the kitchen, but he wasn't expecting to see Bucky fucking you on the sofa. He left the three glasses in the sink, walking into the living space to match the noises to the visual.

Steve moved to stand behind the sofa, looking down at you. His hands found your wrists above your head, and held your arms in place, while Bucky started his finish. His vibranium hand found your throat again, his other hand gripping your waist as he pulled you down on his length and his hip movements became harder. Your fingers dug into your palm and your toes curled at Bucky's waist.

Bucky kissed you again, slowly slipping you his tongue. After a moment he broke away, and pulled out of you. He moved sitting neck to you, slumping back into the sofa with a deep satisfied exhale.

Steve rounded the sofa, stripping off his shirt, kicking off his shoes. He pulled you up off of the sofa, keeping hold of you on your wobbly legs. He stepped back into the open space on the rug.

"Get down, on your front" Steve kept hold of your arm as you dropped to your knees in front of him and he help guide you down onto your front. The floor creaked a little as he stepped over you and all you could sense was the sound of Steve taking off his swimming trunks.

Steve growled as he stepped over you, and came down to his knees, either side of your body. His hands brushed over your back from your shoulders to your waist and back up again.

You loved the feeling of Steve's weight pressing you into the rug on the floor. His hand pressed into your upper mid back, making it hard for you to inhale. He nudged your legs open with his knees. You looked up at Bucky who was still on the sofa, legs apart, looking down at you and Steve as he pumped himself slowly at what was unfolding in front of him.

Steve's warm chest pressed against your back as he lay down on top or you. You could feel his hand cock down between your legs. You were wet with anticipation.

Steve's whole body pressed against you more as he entered you with a groan, his hands gripped your shoulders under him, his fingers digging into your skin.

Steve kept you pinned to the floor as he whispered dirty things into your ear between grunts as he bucked his hips, getting deeper every so often.

Steve's forearm, slipped under your neck and he clamped down on top of as he came. He lay there for a moment, chest heaving in time with yours.

"Doll, come here" Steve helped you up and back over to Bucky.

Bucky was slouched, practically his back on the sofa. His cock stood erected, his legs slightly parts. He lifted you up, letting you straddle his waist. He held your waist tightly as you wrapped your hand around his cock and guided yourself down onto it.

Bucky's hand ran up the back of your thighs, gripping the curve of your ass, as he worked with your hip movements and the thrusts of his hips. As your orgasm quickly coiled inside you, you hunched over Bucky, his mouth found one of your nipples. The feeling of his tongue rubbing over your nipple sent you over the edge. Bucky tightened his arms around you and came with a low growling moan.

"Guess we should get ready for dinner" Steve chuckled as he disappeared to his room with his discarded clothes in his arms.

***

Music hummed through the villa and you emerged from the bathroom in a steam cloud of Amber and Lavender. You disappeared into your room, leaving Steve and Bucky to fight over who would use the bathroom next.

Washed and dressed you finally started dinner swaying and humming along to the music that played, warm breeze pushing the smell of the food you were making through the villa and out.

"You need any help" Steve asked, appearing in the kitchen leaning up against the doorframe, looking very handsome. "Could you set the table please?" Steve nodded pushing off from the door frame.

Bucky appeared next to you, two bottles of wine in his hand from the cellar. Under the low hum of the music you could hear the sound of cutlery being placed on the table by Steve, Bucky could probably hear it too.

Bucky gently pressed against you as you thought over the wine options. "I'll have the white, you and Steve can have the red. You're both having meat" you explained. Bucky nodded and disappeared to add the wine to the table set up.

The music continued to hum lowly as you three ate. You sat back sipping your wine, admiring the differences between Steve and Bucky.

Steve had his short sleeve shirt done up, tucked into his slacks with a belt and his inside shoes on. His brown blonde hair styled perfectly with gel. He sat up straight at the table, slightly laughing at something Bucky had said. Probably an old memory they had shared. Bucky on the other hand sat slightly hunched, one elbow on the old wooden table surface, only his fork in his wrong hand. His hair was drying, but was swept up into a messy bun with one of your hair ties. The top three buttons of his short sleeve top were undone, it wasn't tucked into his slacks. He was bare foot. You rolled your ankle, you wished you were bare foot and not in heels. They weren't high, but still.

Bucky cleared the table and went to get the dessert. You rested your elbow on the table, and your chin on your upturned palm. Steve moved his chair closer to the edge of the table, where you sat. His leg met yours under the table. His hand brushed the side of your face, down your neck, over your shoulder and down your other arm. "Did I mention that you look beautiful"

You smirked, slightly blushing. "No, but thank you" you moved the wine glass out of the way to pull Steve into a kiss. You both separated at the sound of Bucky placing the bowl of dessert down on the table, noticing he already had a spoon in his mouth as he set down three stacked bowls.

Bucky served out the dessert, his own spoon still in his mouth.

"Doll, what's in this?" Bucky asked, his spoon piled high as he stared into his bowl. You explained the ingredients, while Bucky nodded in amazement.

Bucky started to clear the table while you and Steve finished dessert.

Steve wiped his fingers around the inside his bowl getting every last drop.

You slipped onto Steve's lap, licking some of the remains of the Berry stained cream of the dessert off his fingers. He slowly pulled his fingers from your mouth, then drew your face closer to his.

Steve's cock strained against his pants as you both kissed. Your mouth relaxed, opening slightly, welcoming to deepen the kiss. He grunted as your hand smoothed down his chest and to his crotch.

Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist from behind lifting you up away from Steve. Your back pressed against Bucky's chest, his vibranium arm held you fast around your waist as he leant back against the wooden dining room table. He softly kicked your legs apart, and his flesh hand started bunching up your dress at your hips. Steve stood in front of you. You reached towards him, your fingers finding his belt and started to undo it. You slipped your hand into his slacks, gripping his erection as his hands rubbed the tops of the sides of your thighs. His fingers hooked into the band of your underwear, working them down your legs. Steve removed your knickers, keeping your heels on.

Steve dropped his slacks and boxers, and moved closer to you, still being held in place by Bucky. When Steve lifted one of your legs up, you placed your hands on his shoulders and Bucky tucked the bunched up fabric of your dress between him and you, grabbing hold of your leg, his hot fingers gripped under the back of your knee.

Steve dipped two fingers into you briefly, then coated his cock with your arousal. As you pulled Steve closer for a kiss he lined his cock up with your entrance. He pushed into you with a grunt, filling you with one smooth roll of his hips.

Pulling out, he listened to your gasp and Bucky felt your shudder, and your hips instinctively rolled. Thrusting forcefully into you, your body rocked with and against Bucky's with every snap of Steve's hips. Your body vibrated with need, and it intensified more as Bucky's mouth found one side of your neck and Steve found the other.

You stiffened as your orgasm rolled through you, sound and breath caught in your throat, toes curled, fisting the shoulders of Steve's shirt. As your pussy clenched around his cock, Steve added to your climax as he buried himself deep inside you relentlessly. Bucky followed with his own orgasm moments later, his fingers digging into your thigh and behind your knee.

***

The next day while Bucky was doing laps in the pool, and you laid out on your front asleep on the lounger by the pool Steve eyed the new hand shaped bruise on the back of your knee.

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Tags: @ellixthea @lovelymari4 @dc41896 @chaneajoyyy @honeychicana @honeychicanawrites @beaminglife @amelatonin @themyscxiras @my-rosegold-soul @lady-olive-oil @jojolu @endless00paradise @est1887 @cajunpeach @melinda-january @profoundlynerdywolf @massivecolorspygiant @scarlettlullaby16 @harduy @damndomm @mbaku-babygirl @veryfastspeedz @bxby-bvnny

#poc oc #steve rogers x poc #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x poc!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x poc!reader #fumbling fanfics

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nerdierholler · 3 years ago

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Wayhaven Frights Day 7: Isolation

Pairing: Ethan Langford/Adam du Mortain Rating: G Words: 1925 Warnings: none Ethan's been shut up alone inside his apartment dealing with the flu and Adam comes to check on him. It's flirty fluff, mostly on Ethan's part. Even sick he's absolutely incorrigible. Also you can read it on AO3 here.

Isolation

Fevers and chills had racked Ethan’s body for several days now. At the first sign he was feeling under the weather, the captain had ordered him out of the station, something Ethan resented in the moment but was grateful for by the time he’d collapsed into bed later. And in bed was where he’d stayed for most of the last 48 hours. It had taken him 10 minutes yesterday just to get the pot of soup Tina left on his doorstep and put it away. Afterwards he slept for 8 hours from just that small amount of exertion.

The buzzing sound of his phone grating against his nightstand woke Ethan up. He rolled over, grimacing as he peeled himself away from the sweat soaked sheets. If it was Douglas calling to check on him yet again he was going to strangle the kid as soon as he could hold his arms up for more than a few minutes. He looked at the caller ID. It was Adam.

“Hey,” Ethan croaked, the first word he’d spoken in days.

“You sound terrible.”

“I feel terrible.” He let the phone drop onto the side of his face, too tired to hold it up. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, can I go back to sleep?”

“Agent Langford contacted me. She’s concerned about your illness and wanted to check in on you.”

“You checked, I’m still alive. Goodbye now.”

“In person.”

Ethan groaned. He was an adult, not a child, he didn’t need his mother trying to babysit him just because he had the flu.

“Since catching your illness isn’t a concern, I offered to stop by after my patrol.”

Normally, Ethan’s heart would be fluttering at the rare moment of concern from the usually stoic leader, but right now even the opportunity of having Adam alone in his apartment wasn’t enough to overpower Ethan’s desire for rest.

“Fine.” Even if he had the energy, he knew there’d be no point in arguing if both Adam and his mother had conspired against him. “But don’t expect me to get the door, just let yourself in and try to be quiet.”

In the brief silence that followed, Ethan could perfectly picture Adam about to protest against just waltzing into his apartment and somehow invading his privacy. “I’ll be there shortly,” he said finally.

“Okay.”

“Goodbye, detective.”

“Yeah,” Ethan mumbled. Rolling over, he let the phone slide off his face and onto the pillow. In a few moments he was asleep once again.

Several hours passed before Ethan opened his eyes. When he did, he could just make out the faint traces of sunset shining through the curtains. Adam must have come by while he was sleeping. At least he didn’t wake him up in the process. It felt like that last bit of sleep might have been what he needed to start turning the corner. At the very least it meant he woke up feeling well enough to make it as far as the kitchen for some water.

He swung his feet over the side of the bed and sat up, allowing a few moments to adjust to the change in position before attempting to stand. His knees didn’t immediately buckle, so that was a good start. He shuffled over to the door, holding onto the frame for support as he opened it. And on the other side was Adam, sitting on his couch with a book, green eyes darting up to look at him.

Ethan would be lying if the thought of standing in front of Adam, clad only in his boxers, hadn't crossed his mind before. This just wasn’t how he imagined it playing out. There was usually a lot more lead up to this point and a lot less body odor on his part. As it was, the most he could manage was a lopsided grin in apology for his current state of existence.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Don’t worry, I’m heading back shortly, just getting some water. Maybe food and a shower too, but let’s not get carried away just yet.”

Adam watched him closely as he made his way to the kitchen. Ethan had no doubt he was ready to jump up if he showed any sign of trouble. Briefly, he considered faking a stumble just to see what Adam would do but decided against it. There was too great a chance of his fake attempt becoming a real one.

Ethan filled a glass from the sink and drained it in one long gulp. Filling it again, he leaned back against the kitchen counter and closed his eyes, partially to avoid looking at Adam, but mostly because even the short walk across the apartment had made his head start to spin.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Adam’s voice was just a few feet away now. He must have gotten up after Ethan closed his eyes. “I’m fine.” There was a huff of disapproval from nearby. “Or I will be. It’s just the flu. A few more days of rest and I’ll be right as rain. Don’t worry about...” the last word hung on Ethan’s lips as he opened his eyes and found Adam standing right beside him, brow knotted with concern. Raising the glass to his lips, Ethan took another long drink.

“May I?” Adam asked as he lifted a hand towards Ethan’s face,

Ethan could only nod silently, not sure of what to expect next and half wondering if maybe this was all just part of some fevered dream. Adam placed his hand on Ethan’s forehead for a few moments, the touch making his whole body tingle. He made a mental note to hide the digital thermometer that was currently sitting on his nightstand.

“I don’t feel any fever but that doesn’t mean it won’t return. I think it would be best if you returned to bed as soon as possible.”

Part of Ethan wanted to immediately protest, an unfortunate side effect of having spent so much time with the vampire. In this instance however, there really wasn’t a reason for them to butt heads. It wasn’t like Ethan had been planning on going for a long evening stroll or something. “At the very least, I’m going to take a quick shower,” his stomach gurgled, “and maybe eat something, then it’s back to bed, I promise.”

That answer seemed to satisfy Adam and his face softened with relief, apparently not in the mood to fight either. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“In the shower?” Ethan raised an eyebrow, “I’m sure I could think of something.”

Adam folded his arms across his chest, “That was not what I meant.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ethan waved a hand dismissively as he made his way to the bathroom. Flirting with Adam when he was standing in his underwear was probably a bad idea anyway. “I’m fine. I’ll deal with my own messes in a few days, there’s nothing that can’t wait.” He turned back to Adam with a genuine smile, “Thanks for offering though.”

The hot water running over Ethan made him want to melt into the drain at his feet. If he had a list of top ten showers he’d ever taken, this would have been one of them. He didn’t have a list, but his mind quickly started to form one before he stopped himself. Adam was still in the other room and while some of those might be pleasant memories to revisit, now was not the time.

He stood there for longer than he’d intended as the aches in his body slowly dissolved until he felt blissfully limp and relaxed. He dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist then opened the door. And immediately closed it. Right, Adam. Ethan looked down at the boxers in the hamper, he really didn’t want to put them back on, even for just a few minutes to get to his room. He cracked the door just wide enough for his face to peek through.

“Hey, Adam? Can you do me a favor?”

Adam eyed him cautiously, unsure of what kind of favor the detective might ask, “Yes?”

“Bring me some shorts. Middle drawer, any pair is fine.”

For the briefest of moments Adam’s face blushed with realization at the request and Ethan couldn’t help but wonder how much Adam enjoyed the mental image that must have just passed through his mind. He hoped it was quite a lot.

In half a minute, Adam returned, holding out a pair of shorts, which Ethan quickly grabbed and put on. Finally emerging from the bathroom, he looked between the kitchen and his bedroom. Despite how much he’d slept recently, floating back into bed seemed too irresistible given his relaxed state.

“Alright, I’m going back to bed, I’ll worry about food the next time I get up.”

Instead of seeming pleased with this announcement, Adam frowned instead. “When was the last time you ate something?”

“Umm,” Ethan ran his fingers through his wet hair in thought, “I think I had some crackers yesterday, maybe.”

Adam’s frown deepened, “Last time I checked, humans required regular meals.”

“I thought you wanted me in bed?”

“I do,” Ethan quirked an eyebrow at Adam’s words, causing him to pause and clear his throat. “That is, I think you need more rest in order to recover. If you want to lay down, I would be happy to bring you something.”

“If you insist.” Ethan started to head back to his room, “Tina brought some soup by the other day, it’s in the big green dish in the fridge, just put some in a smaller bowl-”

“I remember how to make soup,” Adam interrupted.

“Two and half minutes in the microwave should be enough. Do you know how to work the-”

“Yes, I know!”

Ethan chuckled to himself as he pulled back the duvet and slipped between the crisp sheets. This felt heavenly, hopefully he could stay awake long enough for Adam to bring him his soup.

Wait. Ethan rolled over and sniffed his pillow. These were clean sheets. Had Adam? While he was in the shower? Ethan closed his eyes with a happy sigh. As frustrating as it could be trying to figure Adam out, there was nothing in the world like those times when he showed how much he cared.

“Here, it’s hot,” Adam said, as he set the bowl down on the side table.

Ethan sat up and grabbed it, enjoying the feeling of warmth in his hands. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Adam’s voice was surprisingly soft and the smile that played on the corners of his lips didn’t escape Ethan’s notice.

“I really appreciate you coming by. I don’t think I realized how nice it would be to see someone again.” To see you again.

“It was no trouble, Ethan. I was glad to be of assistance.”

“Care to fill me in on what I’ve missed that last couple of days? Just while I finish this,” Ethan added, “then I’ll be a good boy and go back to sleep.”

The smile Adam had been trying to suppress finally broke through and he leaned against the dresser, telling Ethan about the latest news from the warehouse. Ethan wanted this to last, the comfortable conversation. He ate as slowly as possible and the last few spoonfuls were cold by the time he got to them. But try as he might, his body got the better of him and it wasn’t long after Adam carried the empty bowl away to the kitchen that Ethan was fast asleep once more.

#wayhavenfrights #the wayhaven chronicles #twc #detective x adam #ethan langford #ethan is a tall sassy drink of water #and adam is just going to have to deal with that #please just imagine adam screaming internally as ethan walks around his underwear the whole time #life at nerdy holler #nerdy writes #this was a long one #downside is I've burned through my few days of buffer

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squeeneyart · 4 years ago

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Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 24

AO3

Beta reader as always is @thesnadger!

Keeping busy makes the day go by.

Martin and Jon discuss household chores.

Martin took great care to not make too much noise as he walked down the stairs. He still avoided the creakiest steps, and down he went as quiet as the house would allow.

He didn’t wonder whether the night before had been a dream. His dreams weren’t like that, so vivid and specific. They weren’t narratives he could make sense of, if he remembered them at all. On waking, he was usually left with the anxious certainty that he had made a horrible mistake or had forgotten to do something important. But that night had been real.

Still, when he made it to the ground floor he peeked in the downstairs toilet to make sure Jon’s clothes were hanging on the shower rod along with the small bag he’d been carrying. Those items were present. What he didn’t find was the seal skin.

Martin continued to the living room door. Curled up into a tight ball, Jon remained buried in the blanket and couch cushions. Martin let loose the breath he’d been holding. He continued on to the kitchen to make his breakfast in silence.

It was nothing to dwell on. Jon must’ve stowed the coat somewhere while Martin was asleep. They hadn’t known each other that long, so it wouldn’t do to keep something so important openly hanging in the shower when Jon had had such a scare with the thing. He’d trusted Martin enough to tell him the truth. It didn’t matter that Jon had squirreled the skin away in the dead of night.

Had Jon believed what he’d said about his mother leaving? Was it suspicious that she was gone?

Toast popped up hot and ready, making him jump. He looked back into the living room, checking if the noise had been enough to wake Jon, but the man was sound asleep in his little cocoon. Perhaps all of the caution wasn’t necessary with someone who was sleeping well for the first time in weeks. Longer, if his habit of calling without any thought to the time was any indication.

He should’ve checked on Jon. Even if he hadn’t had reason to suspect anything it’s what he would’ve appreciated in Jon’s place. Just because he hadn’t felt like making the effort-

Would it have helped, though, if Tim and Sasha were ready to cover things up? What excuse could they have given except that Jon had lost his mobile or switched numbers and hadn’t given out his new one yet? He hadn’t had a real reason to pry into Jon’s business. A barely established friendship didn’t count.

He could have tried anyway. Hopefully letting Jon stay would make up for it, even if there was no bed to offer.

While he wasn’t against letting him use his own bed in theory, Martin knew he was too bloody tall to sleep comfortably on the old couch all night. If things went on long enough it could be discussed, but it was better for both of them to get sleep.

Hers didn’t count.

Thinking that far ahead wouldn’t do any good, so he pushed his mess of thoughts to one side and focused on eating breakfast and scribbling onto a small piece of paper.

‘Jon,

Help yourself to food. Be back in the evening.

-Martin’

Martin considered the note for a moment, then scribbled his number at the bottom.

‘For emergencies.’

What emergencies he could help with he couldn’t say, but he left his number all the same. The chance of Jon having it memorized was slim to none and it wouldn’t have been fair to keep Jon with no contact at all. It was the best excuse Martin could hope for.

He gently laid his plate in the sink in one final attempt to keep the silence, and got ready to leave.

Jon didn’t call him at any point that day. And rightly so, following prior agreements of safety and secrecy. It was fine, no calls meant no emergencies, but as the hours passed it was easy to forget the outside world and its greater goings-on. The window on the front door wasn’t much of a reminder, not with how tiny and far away it was, and not with the crappy weather blocking any light other than what could seep through the endless grey.

The wall clock was placed in an awkward location from where he sat, so timekeeping felt like guesswork. He’d stopped checking the clock often to avoid the disappointment of finding himself only five minutes closer to leaving. It could be any day of the week if he kept his mobile out of sight.

But he could feel lunch time. He could feel when he was to climb the stairs and complete his tasks by muscle memory. And he knew in his bones when he was meant to leave.

In the dark of the evening the timelessness clung to him. It wasn’t until he got to the bottom of the cliffs and saw the windows lit up from the inside of his home that he felt himself settle back into the present. There was a person in his house, and for a while he stood back by the forest path and stared at the little square of light that was his kitchen window.

He felt like an intruder, a spy peering in through his own kitchen window from afar, and it took a particularly large gust of rain-splattering wind in his face to get him moving again.

It was his house. There was just a person in it other than himself.

The smell of cooked food was the first thing he noticed when he walked inside, even before he saw the small and scuffed brown shoes on the rug, or the thin jacket on the end hook he normally used. Something was being cooked, fried, and he spent a minute on the front rug not knowing how to proceed.

From the kitchen, he heard a tentative, “Martin? Is that you?”

“Oh! Yeah, it’s me.” Finally placing the damned coat somewhere, he slipped off his shoes and walked toward the kitchen.

Jon peeked his head through the kitchen doorway, wariness falling from his face as he saw Martin for himself. “Barely heard the door open over the wind outside. How were things today?”

“Fine, I guess? What’s-” Martin looked over Jon’s head and saw a pan hissing on the stove, alongside a boiling pot of water. “What’re you making?”

“Something easy and not made of fish,” Jon replied, heading toward the stove top. “Hope you don’t mind, I used some of the chicken in the freezer and box pasta. Should be enough for the both of us.”

Head running on empty, Martin could only nod and take a seat at the kitchen table, threading and unthreading his fingers in front of him. It felt wrong to be sitting there in his own kitchen without a task, but Jon had already put in the time and effort to make dinner. Still, his hands were painfully idle in his lap.

He said quietly, “Smells good.”

From the stove, Jon raised an eyebrow but kept his eyes on the pan in front of him. “I’d hope so. Can’t go much more basic than this.” He lifted the pan to show breaded chicken frying away.

“Still, it’s nice of you. Thanks.”

“Mm.” He flipped the stove off and went to strain the noodles. “Anyway, now that I’m awake, thank you for letting me stay the night. Hopefully this helps make up for my sudden appearance.”

“It’s no trouble. Would’ve liked more warning, though.”

Jon frowned. “Well… I would’ve called if I could.”

It didn’t feel like a purposeful accusation, but it stung anyway. “Can’t change things now. Speaking of calling, though… Did you want me to get in touch with Tim or Sasha about this? I know you said you wanted to wait until they were here, but I don’t know when that’ll be.”

“No, not yet.” Jon placed a strainer full of noodles back over the pot and leaned against the counter. “Call me over-cautious, but I don’t trust anything traceable right now. I’d considered calling Georgie over your phone line to pass on a message, but I don’t think her going in a second time would fly under the radar.”

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Martin said, “So until they get here…”

“Until then, I’d like to stay here. We can explain things to Tim and Sasha, figure out your situation, and then-” His face fell. “I’m not sure what comes after that.”

In the silence that followed, Jon busied himself with assembling two plates of food, turned in such a way that Martin couldn’t see his expression. It was an uncomfortable quiet that ate away at the composure he’d managed to pull together throughout the work day.

When Jon set the plate down in front of him, he jumped in his seat.

Jon’s brows scrunched together. “Are you all right?”

“Just… tired, is all.”

“Right. So-” Jon set his own plate down and sat on the other side of the table, a perfectly natural choice of seating. “We didn’t talk for long last night. I know part of what you’re going through isn’t- it’s not by business, but if I’m going to help then I need to know if you’ve noticed any changes, with the lighthouse or with- with other things.”

Martin stared down at his dinner. It was plain, breaded chicken with noodles. Smelled a bit of lemon and garlic.

“Everything’s fine. Nothing’s changed besides what you already know.”

It was fine. The taste was about what he would’ve expected from the smell, and it was better than anything he’d been planning to make with his remaining energy. It was a nice thing for Jon to do. He forced each bite down through the sting of his throat.

“It tastes all right?” Jon asked casually.

Martin nodded with a raise of his eyebrows, taking another bite of chicken.

“Good. I’m not out of practice.”

After that, the only sounds remaining were those of clinking silverware and the beating of rain on the kitchen window.

It should’ve been nice, but as Martin ate the pain in his throat only grew, spreading through his head and upper chest. It was nice that Jon had made dinner, and he’d kept it simple enough that even Martin could pay it back in the future. Something as tiny as this shouldn’t have made him feel anything other than full. Instead his head pounded behind his eyes.

“You… You don’t have to eat it,” Jon said. When Martin looked up he was met with an expression of mild exasperation. “It’s fine if you don’t like it. I’m not holding you at gunpoint. Though if I’m going to be living here we should probably settle what we each don’t like.”

“What?” God, that wasn’t a pleasant sound, especially with food still in his mouth. Martin swallowed down hard, realized he had nothing to drink, and stood up. “I need some water. You?”

Thrown off somewhat, Jon sputtered, “N- Well, yes, but-”

“Great.” Martin strode across the kitchen and grabbed two glasses from the cabinet to fill in the sink. As he held one under the faucet, he noticed there were no dirty dishes underneath.

From behind he could hear Jon shift in his chair. “It’s really not a big deal if you don’t like it.”

With two full glasses he returned to the table, taking a sip of his own and then setting them both down. “What is? No, right, yeah, dinner tastes fine. Don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Martin, that’s not very convincing when you were just staring at it like it was a lump of mud.”

“I wasn’t-” He took his seat and reached internally for some excuse with no luck. What kind of faces had he been making? Reaching for his fork, he said, “It’s fine. Good. It’s good.”

“There’s something else, then.”

“I… The food is good. It was very nice of you to make it.” His throat went tight and he said no more.

Frowning at his meal, Jon said defeatedly, “Okay. If you say so.”

The rest of the meal passed in silence. If he made any other sour faces then Jon ignored them, and Martin did his best to be more aware of what his eyes and mouth were doing while eating as quickly as he could manage.

It wasn’t soon enough, but he finally finished and put his plate in the sink. God, he’d barely gotten home and was ready to run upstairs and hide away for the night. Was eating dinner with someone always so exhausting? The answer came easily to mind, but this felt worse than meals spent with stubborn silence or bitter exchanges.

Jon had wanted to be nice, and-

“So, we should discuss… things. Not the food-” Jon said from directly behind him, dirty dishes in hand. He inched around Martin to place them in the sink. “-but we need to talk about how it’s going to work, me being here. I don’t want to be a nuisance.”

Martin cleared his throat, taking a step to the side to give Jon some room. “You’re not a nuisance. You didn’t have much of a choice in this, if any.”

“And you didn’t ask to have me knocking in your door. Here, let me-” Jon rolled up his sleeves and got to work scrubbing the dishes.

Martin bristled. “You don’t have to-”

“I’m the one who made dinner.”

Martin’s face scrunched. “I don’t think that’s how it works. You made dinner, so I should clean up.” He watched with some irritation as Jon continued his task.

“Next time, then. I already got a head start this morning.”

An even better reason for Martin to be the one to wash up after dinner, but that ship had sailed without him apparently.

“Look, I’m-” He pushed through the tightness in his chest. “I’m glad you’re here, all right? Better than you getting eaten by a shark or something.”

Jon squinted at him. “So… we’re fine?”

“What? Yeah, ‘course we’re fine!” In spite of everything, a laugh crept into Martin’s voice. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

A troubled look crossed Jon’s face. “No, you’re right. The last few weeks got to me I think, not seeing people.”

With some hesitation, Jon continued, “If it makes you feel better, I’m glad to have something to do.” He paused, sudsy glass in his hand. “Sitting around all day doesn’t come naturally to me, and I’ve been all but useless for weeks.”

Ah. Martin felt the indignation seep out of his jaw and shoulders, leaving him rather deflated all of a sudden. All that bristling on his part and Jon had only been bored to the point of doing chores.

“That’s... not your fault,” Martin replied quietly. He leaned back against the counter top and tapped his fingers on the rounded edges. “But okay. Sorry.”

Resuming the job at hand, Jon kept his eyes down and stayed quiet. There wasn’t much to wash off of the plates, but he was diligent in scrubbing down the frying pan until not a speck of grease remained. His fingertips began to prune.

Eventually, he spoke up. “As I was saying before, we should talk about me staying here because of situations like this. If you have… particularities with housekeeping, I should know.”

Martin rolled his eyes. “It’s not a- whatever, do what you like. I suppose it’s better to live with someone who keeps clean.”

“As much as the average person,” Jon said, rinsing off the last bit of soap from a plate. He reached out to grab a hand towel. “Don’t expect me to always be this eager for chores.”

“What, is the excitement wearing off already?” He’d been aiming for a light, teasing tone but ended with dry judgment.

“You know me, always looking for the next thrill,” he deadpanned.

Martin leaned back on the heels of his hands. “Jon, you’re a professional ghost hunter.”

Jon tossed the towel back onto the sink. “I am not. I research the paranormal and complete necessary field work.”

“By looking for static in recordings and breaking into buildings.”

“That’s not- your situation is a special case. I assure you, my regular days are based almost entirely around paperwork and fact-checking.” He walked into the living room and with a scowl plopped onto the couch. After a moment his mouth untwisted into a small frown. “They were, anyway.”

Martin followed behind and looked at him, looked at the lines on his forehead and under his eyes, at his bouncing knee. He looked better than he had the day before, but it would take more than a single good night to make up for weeks of wandering and disconnection. Another apology sat behind his own lips, but he let it die as the useless thing it was.

There was one thing he could help with. Walking over to the ancient desk in the corner, he picked up a bulky old laptop from the drawer and brought it over to the couch with him. “Probably should’ve mentioned it in the note, but I do have wi-fi. Technically.”

The laptop was old. He’d bought it for himself years back but with the weak signal he got it wasn’t easy to deal with, and in his mind the very concept of social media was never going to work for him. So, it was largely a clunky and underused alternative to his phone. It sat heavy on his lap and he remembered why he rarely bothered with it.

Jon’s eyebrows shot up, and he scooted closer on the seat. Voice dripping with relief, he said, “I’m shocked you can get a signal down here.”

The sudden proximity made Martin’s heart skip. He opened the computer on his lap and focused on the screen. “Mind you it’s not good wi-fi, but it should help pass the time. Still has a disc drive as well.”

It took far longer than he would’ve liked for the thing to boot up, but against all odds it reached the desktop with its default background and sparse folders. He really hadn’t done much with the thing, had he? Perhaps when everything was done with he could sell it.

For the time being, though, Jon was clearly itching to get his hands on it, so after a quick check that it still connected to the internet he passed it over.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that he immediately hopped onto a site for sifting through journal articles, but Martin stifled a laugh. Whether pushed by professional diligence or personal interest, Jon was too engrossed to notice.

With a small sense of accomplishment, Martin pushed himself onto his feet and moved toward the hall. He made it halfway across the room before he was noticed.

“You’re not going to bed already.”

The tone of the sentence sat between incredulity and a statement of fact, and it gave Martin pause. When he glanced back, Jon was still looking at the laptop screen.

“I mean… no, I was just going to get into pyjamas?”

“Okay. There was a short documentary on architecture I found when I was still doing research at my flat. It might be helpful to our ends.” He typed something and made a face. “It might also be complete bunk, but I should be able to track it down while you’re upstairs.”

It was enough of a dismissal that Martin could only say, “Oh. Um, all right?” Then he left the room in a hurry, as he apparently had things to do that night.

Back upstairs he went with a new if unexpected purpose to change out of his work clothes, still skipping the loudest steps as best he could.

Around the time he’d managed to slip on some flannel pyjama pants and an old t-shirt, tears had leaked from his eyes and then ceased almost immediately. There were no sobs to choke back, just streaks of warmth on his cheeks that dried as quickly as they’d formed.

He rubbed his face with the back of his hand, grateful that his eyes wouldn’t be red and puffy, and then walked back downstairs.

#tma #the magnus archives #breathe in the salt #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #sasha james #timothy stoker #peter lukas #jonmartin

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songfell-ut · 4 years ago

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Happy birthday to:

@venelona! I set out to prove that I could do a gift on time, and even if time zones have come between us, it’s totally the 4th right now for me, dammit. So here you go, stolen directly from your conversation on @lailosh‘s server and based of course on these comics.

(Omfg, I told my daughter I was happy I finished a birthday gift on time and now she’s nattering to her class on Zoom about how today is her mom’s friend’s birthday and the teacher is asking if we’re doing anything)

Anyway

The bedroom was quiet. Not too quiet—the air conditioner hummed and traffic noises filtered in from the busy street outside, as usual. It was just the quiet of an early-evening bedroom with no one in it yet, sleeping or playing on their phone or doing you-know-what…

…Not that the room’s usual occupant ever did much know-what. In fact, she never did any of it. He definitely would’ve noticed. He noticed everything.

For example, he knew the moment the sun’s last rays finally died out and warm, sweet darkness began sinking into the room, pooling under her bed and creating the ideal space for someone – something – like him to emerge.

Nightmare permitted himself a tiny grin, letting his tentacles writhe in anticipation. He’d been resting and gathering his power for over a month, building enough strength to invade the waking world. Let her think he’d grown tired of trying to reach her again after…after that, her shocking indecency, showing him all that soft warm naked skin and touching him with no he had to focus

Yes. She probably thought she’d won and driven him off with her horrible wiles! Well, what would she say when he came for her—no, when he completely platonically attacked her in her own world, where she thought she was safe? There was nowhere to run from him in her nightmares, but she could always wake up. Here, though…

Nightmare took the magical equivalent of a deep breath, running his tentacles along the barrier between his world and the reality inhabited by humans. It was a delicate process, but he used the barest touch of power to find the barrier’s weak spot, nudge the folds of subspace aside and insert his tentacles one at a why did this feel so inappropriate time, until he was through!

The space under her bed was…not spacious. In fact, if he hadn’t been so viscous, Nightmare could well have found himself stuck. It was enough to make him contemplate giving up and slipping back into his own world, where an eldritch being could stretch properly and not think terrible, untoward things from something as innocuous as penetrating into her wo—

No! As a being of infinite cosmic horror who fed on the suffering of lesser creatures, Nightmare had no intention of backing out now…not the least because he couldn’t back up any further without hitting the wall. What kind of pathetically undersized dwelling was this?

At least he knew her routine, and that she’d be in here soon enough: she was doing the dishes, and then it was time for her shower. Should he strike while she was rummaging in her closet for her favorite cotton robe, the one with the stupid pink flowers? Or lie in wait until she came in afterward, threw her towel off, and eventually got into her pajamas? …Assuming she bothered wearing any. He never watched that part, no matter how much he…well…

Nightmare squeezed his eye shut. Things would be different after tonight, he vowed. Once he’d given her another glimpse of real terror, she’d never taunt him again! He would unleash his most hideous abominations upon his not-scantily-clad victim, and her fear would make him strong enough to finally see—

—a set of dainty black paws wandering in through the half-open door. The skeletal creature froze, slipping a little further back under the bed. Since when did Frisk have a damned cat? And where was it going?! Surely the beast wasn’t stupid enough to approach him?

The cat took a few hesitant steps, then stopped and growled under its breath, tail lashing. Good! Let it make all the noise it wanted. If it got close enough to grab, he’d—

Nightmare was so busy thinking of ways to make the cat sorry for existing that he didn’t notice one of his tentacles eagerly creeping out from under the bed, reaching to grab the little animal…until the cat’s paw went whapwhapwhap and smacked him with needle-sharp claws. “Oww!” he snarled. “You…!”

The kitchen was just down the hall; to his alarm, Frisk had turned the water off. “Nero?” she called. Her footsteps drifted toward the bedroom, and Nightmare crammed himself back against the wall. “Ne—geez!” she yelped as the cat came rocketing out of her room. “What’s wrong with you?” the young woman demanded, her voice trailing after him. “Come back here and answer me, you little…!”

That was too close. Nightmare breathed a sigh of relief, and considered reaching across the room to shut the door; his powers of telekinesis had all but vanished as his…other talents developed. But no, she was an intelligent young lady, and she’d wonder why it was suddenly closed. Besides, the substance coating his limbs would leave telltale greenish-black traces. He just had to hope she wouldn’t notice the flecks of it on the carpet that had been whacked off—that had been forcibly removed by the cat clawing his tentacle.

So the skeletal abomination settled himself to wait, very patiently, as befitted a creature of his age and magical stature. He was always happy to pass the time devising new tortures to inflict upon his victims. Frisk never failed to disappoint him, provided she had clothes on, and once he’d had his way with—once he was finished platonically terrorizing her, she’d never say any ridiculous things about naked or marriage ever again!

Only a minute later, Frisk came back down the hall. “I know, Mom,” she was saying, presumably on the phone. The hall light came on; Nightmare steeled himself for the bedroom light, but to his intense relief, she went to the bathroom instead. “Yeah, I’m gonna go to bed early tonight. I’ve got new contacts, and they’re giving me a headache.” There was a rummage through her medicine cabinet, then some vaguely cloth-sounding noises. “Of course Nero’s doing fine. He just got his wet food, and…he’s already heading to the litter box again. Goody.” Sigh. “Are you guys having fun on your amazing cruise that you wouldn’t take me on?”

Ah. That explained the cat’s presence. And it was also excellent nightmare fuel: he could make her see her parents out on the ocean, having a wonderful time until, say, the walls of the ship split open and grew teeth to begin devouring the passengers, or some kind of disease started spreading that made people turn inside out…Frisk was always susceptible to body horror. Oh, yes, he knew how he could take advantage of her. …Platonically!

“Thanks, Mom,” she said loudly, breaking in on his definitely-not-filthy thoughts. “Have fun. Love you.” He heard her set something down in the kitchen, then sigh, padding back down the hall.

Nightmare settled down to wait again, only to flinch at the sound of sudden, rapid footsteps: Frisk burst into her room and leapt onto her bed with a little “Whee!” The mattress flattened beneath her weight, mashing into his skull; he cursed silently in the tongues of a thousand mortal worlds as Frisk flopped onto her back. “Oh, man, what a day,” she muttered. “Stupid contacts.” Yawn. “Don’t care about the shower, do it in the mornin’…”

That was…remarkably cute, Nightmare thought, then tried to un-think it as she rolled onto her side, relieving some of the pressure. If only they were in his realm! Her mind would be an open book, and he could effortlessly seize her subconscious and steer it in any direction he chose. In this world, he had to wait till her breathing slowed, then grip the carpet and glide out from under the bed on a layer of the noxious stuff coating his body.

Once his torso was free, he silently eased his legs out and rose to his knees. His tentacles quivered with eagerness as he started to turn toward the b—

“Gotcha!”

…If Nightmare had had any friends, and one of them had asked him the likelihood of his next victim not just taking him by surprise, but grabbing him by the neck with rubber kitchen gloves? He would have laughed, and then killed them, because they were clearly insane and he didn’t have any friends.

But by all that was unholy, his theoretical dead friend was not insane. Instead of giving Frisk a (perfectly chaste) glimpse into her own personal Hell, Nightmare found himself being scruffed like an indignant kitten and hauled toward the light switch; instead of latching onto her and ripping her flesh from her bones, his tentacles had just enough time to form a protective seal over his eye before the room was flooded with foul, searing light.

“Oh my God, shut up!” Frisk shouted over his wails of pain. “It’s just one lightbulb!” She shouldered the door open and began dragging him down the hall. “You’re not melting or anything! But if you want to, go for it—it’d probably be an improvement!”

“How dare you!” The eldritch skeleton flailed with both arms and kicked at random, to no avail. “Release me now!”

“Why?” she snapped. Nightmare made another series of agonized noises as she pulled him all the way into the brightly lit bathroom. “I’m not letting you go till you apologize and we get everything cleaned up!” She slammed the door shut and locked it for emphasis. “Got it?!”

He still couldn’t bring himself to uncover his eye. “How? How did you know—”

“The cat had a bunch of gross slime all over his paw! Who do I know that gets gunk everywhere and smells like a hot dumpster? Gee, let me think!” Frisk still had an iron grip on his neck, fingers digging between the vertebrae. With her other rubber-gloved hand, she banged open the linen closet and began pulling things out, piling them on the toilet lid. “I had to scrub it off him so he wouldn’t eat it and die or something. So then I thought to myself, Wow, Self! I already had to wash one dumb thing I didn’t want here! Why not go for a double?”

The implication hit him as she yanked a knob and started the shower full-blast. “You wouldn’t dare,” he hissed.

Frisk stopped dead. For a moment, Nightmare entertained hopes of mustering enough strength to break loose and reach the light switch. When one tentacle eased free, though, she pivoted until he was fully facing the vanity lights, holding firm as he writhed in agony. It felt like miniature suns burning into his slime and bone…

…but only for a moment. The next thing he knew, Frisk had turned him away again, leaning over to shield him from the light. “Believe it or not, I don’t like hurting you,” she said severely. “But you’re in my world now, literally, and you’re not Mr. Big Scary Hentai Monster. You’re more like a vampire in a crappy horror game—all I have to do is turn the lights on. So, you’d better behave. Got it?” Her grip somehow tightened. “Here we go. Hold your breath!”

Nightmare didn’t have time to request any further details, because she was already ripping back the shower curtain and stepping into the tub with him, holding him under the water as she pulled the curtain shut. “There! I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” she said cheerfully, patting his topmost tentacle. “Doesn’t that feel nice?”

It did not feel nice. The hot water felt like…like…it was bad and he hated it. Yes. It was terrible, and not oddly pleasant or soothing once he got used to it, not at all like being massaged by a thousand tiny hands. In fact, he hated it so much that he relaxed, telling himself he was tricking her into dropping her guard.

Behind him, Frisk hummed in satisfaction and reached out of the curtain. Nightmare’s tentacles began to loosen almost imperceptibly, but constricted again as the human tapped on them. “Hold still. I don’t even know if this stuff hurts when it gets in your eyes…well, eye. But like I said, I don’t get off on torturing people.” Something – probably a bottle – made a sploot sound as she squeezed it. “You just smell really bad.”

Nightmare couldn’t help flinching at the first cold, rough touch of the shower loofa. “I do not ‘get off’ on it,” he informed her. “I can’t help what I am, can I?”

“Hmmm. Yeah,” she said absently. “Yeah, you absolutely can. At least, you can control what you do.” A strange floral scent filled the room as she began a brisk, gentle scrub-down, removing most of his protective slime; he unconsciously folded his legs to sit forward more comfortably, letting her angle the showerhead so that more water streamed over him. “Would you die if you went too long without scaring the crap out of someone?”

The skeletal monster had to suppress a shudder as her fingers slipped between two of the tentacles. No one had touched him like this in…ever, or at least as far back as he could remember. “Probably,” he muttered, telling himself to calm down. It was perfectly innocent, just a wretched human daring to lay hands on him, earning the most terrible punishment imaginable— “Would you die if you went for too long without eating?” he added.

Scrub. Scrub. “Well, duh. But if I want a burger, I don’t sneak into the cow’s house to taunt it first.”

Nightmare did shudder this time as her hand glided over the same spot over and over again, leaving a very sensitive layer of ectoplasmic flesh. His tentacles were stirring with interest, and the more firmly he told them to stop it, the more they all wanted to be washed. One was actually angling itself to let her rub it harder. “I…fine! Just hurry it up.”

“Aww, see? It’s not so bad,” she chirped. The tentacle stretched luxuriously, and Nightmare fought to keep another one from rising to demand the same treatment. “At this rate, you’ll be nice and clean in just a few hours!”

Hours?! He did his best to open his eye, raising one hand to protect him from the light. “You’re joking. Right?” She made an indifferent noise, and he tried to grab at the loofa with his other hand. “Let me do it, then!”

“Nope,” said Frisk, giving the shower curtain a threatening nudge with her elbow; he twitched as the light flickered around its edge. “Just relax, okay? Let your loving wife take care of you~”

He felt his entire skull flush bright green. “You are not my wife!”

The human made a pouty sound. “How can you say that, honey? After all we’ve been through together!” The scrubbing intensified. “I know you wanted more romance. Is that why you came all the way here to see me?” The scrubbing paused. “How did you get into the real world, anyway?” she asked, much more seriously.

Nightmare willed more of his tentacles to peel themselves off his skull, and to behave themselves. “With magic. Don’t waste my time with stupid questions.” The light was just a bit dimmer in here through the shower curtain – enough for the pain to start receding – and he needed to adjust to it; no point formulating an escape plan if he couldn’t see what he was doing.

Frisk slowly removed her grip from around his neck. “Okay, then. I see how it is.” She heaved a sigh, then picked up the bottle again.

This was his chance—Frisk was distracted, with both hands occupied, and his vision was clear. Nightmare grinned in silent malice, flexing his bony fingers as they lay in his lap. Most of his power was still depleted from entering this world, but he had more physical strength in one tentacle than ten mortal men. And this was one slim, soft, pliant young woman! He could take her—he could overpower her with virtually no effort!

It would be ridiculously simple: turn around, grab her, and force her to turn the lights off, for starters. Then they could talk about how she had treated him like a misbehaving cat, and—

She chose that moment to drop the body wash and make him jump. “Crap! Sorry,” Frisk said.

The monster made what he hoped was an agreeable noise and picked up the bottle, which was pretty slippery. “Here,” he murmured. “If you’re going to—”

Without warning, Nightmare sprang to his feet and whirled around, backing the startled human against the shower wall. “Now,” he snarled, “you daaaaaaaaaaaaaugh”

Frisk watched, disbelieving, as the dripping-wet monstrosity jerked backward, arms flung up to shield his eye, as though she had turned a spotlight on him and also thrown some holy water. “I was wondering if you’d noticed,” she remarked. “Did you think I was actually talking with my mom that whole time? I just didn’t want you to know I was taking my clothes off.”

“Why?!” he nearly shrieked. “Why would you do that?”

“‘Cause I didn’t want them to get gunked up! That stuff doesn’t look like it washes out. You’d better help me get it off the carpet, by the way.” Frisk chuckled, and that teasing note crept back into her voice, the one he’d heard so many times in his own nightmares: “If I lose my security deposit, it’ll be your fault. How do you plan to compensate me for that, I wonder~”

Nightmare couldn’t speak; he just emitted a stream of “Y-y-y-y-y—”

“Yyyes, I’m naked,” she agreed, retrieving the bottle. Almost against his will, Nightmare’s eye cracked open in time to watch her set down the loofa, peel the gloves off, goop some body wash onto her hand, and begin blithely rubbing it over her skin. “No offense, but I don’t want you all over me yet.”

The monster’s eye bulged so hard that Frisk snorted. “I meant this, dummy!” She indicated the slimy loofa, and leered at him. “What did you think I meant?”

It was tempting to throw himself out of the shower and hope for death’s sweet embrace, but to his steadily increasing horror, the skeleton couldn’t move his feet. As his gaze swept unwillingly up and down her body, the way her skin glistened as her hands squeezed and stroked it, Nightmare’s desire to grab her shifted…and his tentacles agreed.

Frisk was opening her mouth to say something when one appendage snaked up and began petting her shoulder, which was somehow even warmer and smoother than it looked. “Whoa,” she remarked, looking from it to him and back with wide eyes. To his dismay, her mouth quirked a little. “What happened to romance, Nightmare? Didn’t you want to dance in the moonlight, eat Peking duck, or whatever?”

“I’m n-not—” Nightmare tugged at the errant tentacle, first with his hand, then his magic. To his very dismay, Frisk was reaching up to poke at it, giggling as it brushed her cheek. “What’s wrong with you?” he demanded of the world at large.

As if mocking him, another tentacle lurched at the young woman, making him stagger forward till he had to catch himself with his hands on either side of her. Frozen in place, Nightmare unwillingly watched a few errant suds trickle down her neck, sliding merrily off her collarbone and along the side of her breast before continuing to the brave new worlds beyond—

“Um,” said Frisk, still sounding more amused than perturbed. Her eyes met his, then flicked to her left meaningfully.

Aaaand of course another tentacle had slid around her wrist and along her arm. “Oh, my,” she said, bemused. Nightmare’s soul did a backflip as the young woman moved forward, the tentacles drawing her closer, till her breasts were nearly touching his soaking-wet jacket. “Are you actually coming on to me, or—eep!”

That was probably due to yet another tentacle worming around behind her and running up and down her back, eliciting a little moan. The skeleton wanted desperately to wrench himself free, or at least tell her to be quiet, but…

Frisk was flushed, her breath coming quick and shallow. Nightmare watched her hands come up to rest on his ribcage, picking off bits of slime. “What now?” she murmured.

Nightmare wanted to tell her that she’d won, and please go put on clothes now so he could leave and never come back. He also wanted to tell her that this wasn’t how he’d envisioned their next encounter, or that young women in his day knew better than to trap extradimensional beings in the shower with them; he wanted to be very stern about doing this kind of thing the right way, because she deserved the right way, not…this.

He wanted to stop himself as his fingers rose to brush her damp hair off her face and his skull drooped to rest on her bare shoulder…but he didn’t.

He didn’t want to give up and let his tentacles wind around Frisk to pull her against him, or to put his arms around her, encasing her entire body. But he did.

“Nightmare?” Frisk whispered.

It wasn’t romantic. But if she didn’t care—

Nightmare summoned his scant reserves of magic, and raised his hand long enough to snap his fingers.

The lights went out.

Not long afterward – just a few days after her parents got back and collected Nero, with only a few inquiries as to what that smell was – Frisk went on a shopping trip that raised several eyebrows: she bought several shower curtain liners, a dozen bottles each of Amber Sunrise and Moonlit Jasmine body wash, every single Stain Stick on the shelf, and a steam cleaner.

If that wasn’t strange enough, her neighbors soon started complaining about odd noises in the middle of the night, and at least one of them made rude remarks about how she had to be hoarding trash or something. When the landlord came in for an inspection, though, all he saw was a scrupulously clean apartment with a faint, lingering odor that he couldn’t identify.

It was hard not to see a heap of folded plastic in the corner of her room, but there were no bloodstains – or recent unsolved murders that he knew of – and anything else she chose to use it for was none of his business; Frisk accepted his admonishment to keep it down, whatever it was, and promised to maintain her new cleaning schedule.

Her neighbors didn’t hear much of anything after that. There was nowhere to run from him in her nightmares, but that was fine—she was in no hurry to wake up. After all, she wasn’t the one who’d been caught, was she?

#happy berfdeh #fluff #it was a choice between spicy and punctual #i know what i need to work on and spice ain't the problem

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jaxsteamblog · 4 years ago

Text

Childhood Sweethearts

Click here to read the entire fic on AO3

(A/N: Long chapter. Zuko has a bad time. :c)

Katara bumped into Suki and Thuy as she made her way through the grove. Together, with Thuy’s directions and Katara’s light, they found Zuko and Sokka only yards apart. Both men were quiet and withdrawn, and covered in mud.

Not finding the words to breach his silence, Katara only watched Zuko from the corner of her eye.

Back at the huts, the group was led to the showers so they could bathe. The stalls were outdoors, all in a row, but curtains were hung to give them privacy. Relaxing in the warm water, Katara used as much of the lumpy, sweet smelling soap as she could. She rinsed repeatedly, washing out debris from her hair every time.

When they emerged, clean clothes were waiting for them and Zuko immediately went to the hut he shared with Katara. She followed after him, still quiet.

Lifting the flap to the hut, she saw him lying face down on the mattress.

“Okay, so obviously you saw something out there too.” She said as she walked in, the flap falling behind her.

“What did you see?” Zuko asked, his voice muffled.

“Yue.”

Zuko rolled over enough to lay on his cheek.

“For real?” He asked.

Katara chuckled and sat next to him. As she did, he rolled onto his side and propped his head up on a fist.

“She tried to help me with the burden of destiny.” She said.

“Wild.” Zuko said.

“Who did you see?”

“My mom.”

“What?!”

Zuko nodded and Katara laid down on her side facing him.

“What happened?” She asked.

“Nothing really. When I first looked at her, she didn’t have a face.”

“That is terrifying.”

“I agree. But when I looked at her again, she did have a face.”

“Oh spirits don’t say it was your dad’s face or something.”

“It was Noriko’s.”

“Like, Noren’s wife?”

“Yeah, her.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” Zuko rolled his head in an attempt to shake it. “Noren was friends with my mother and her boyfriend Ikem when they were younger.”

“Did Noriko know them?” Katara asked.

“Not that either of them have said. But Noriko had an accident in the woods a while ago and lost a lot of her memory.” He answered.

“What kind of accident?”

“I never asked. I felt it was too invasive, you know?”

“Well, what happened to Ikem?”

Zuko laid on his back and put his hands on his stomach, but turned his head to look at Katara.

“It got awkward when Noren was telling me about him. I didn’t really want to know. But he doesn’t live in Hira’a anymore.” He said.

“Maybe it has something to do with Noriko’s accident?” Katara suggested.

“I don’t know.” Zuko said.

“Let’s go back and ask.”

“Go to Hira’a and ask Noren about my mom’s old boyfriend?”

“I mean, if you saw your mom with Noriko’s face in the swamp, maybe it’s all connected. Your mom, Ikem’s disappearance, and Noriko’s accident. Can’t hurt, right?” She asked.

“Might be worth a shot.” Zuko said.

Katara leaned over and kissed his forehead.

“I’ll let Dong-Lee know.” She said.

Zuko held onto her and Katara lowered herself, cuddling into his side. She might need to make peace with destiny, but for now she could at least help Zuko with something important to him.

In the morning, when Katara explained her plan to cut the visit short so she and Zuko could head to Hira’a, the matriarch refused. Dong-Lee insisted that what the swamp showed him was far more important and insisted that they leave that day.

Sokka looked haggard and didn’t ask to join, so Toph jumped into the decrepit old car stashed at the edge of the swamp.

“What are you doing?” Katara asked as Toph buckled herself into the passenger’s seat. The driver didn’t seem to care and she began to work of turning over the engine.

“You do know the nearest city is Gaoling right?” Toph asked. “That’s how come I’ve been to the swamp before. I used to run away a lot.”

“Are you going to visit your parents?” Katara asked.

“Rolling into my neighborhood with the Fire Lord and Water Tribe queen in this hunk of junk?” Toph asked. She paused as the engine roared to life and the car shook.

“You better believe I want to visit the Beifong estate.” She said.

Toph returned to her childhood home like a landslide. In a matter of moments, Toph had dragged the equivalent of a front yard’s worth of dirt all over the pristine entry room, commandeered her parents’ private plane, and sent their driver back to the swamp in a much nicer car.

Before Lao and Poppy Beifong could even properly introduce themselves, Zuko and Katara were swept back out, heading to the airfield.

Toph stayed behind, for reasons only known to herself.

The plane stopped in Republic City, and that was when Zuko started to second guess the trip.

“They have been nothing but generous, I can’t go sticking my nose into their private lives.” He babbled as they waited for the fuel truck.

The new pilot had already boarded, and the new attendants bustled in the back preparing some sort of meal for them. Katara held Zuko’s hand as she looked around.

“We’re just asking some questions.” She said, ducking her head down to speak quietly. “If Noren’s told you about your mother and Ikem before, I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“What if she went back for him and Ikem isn’t gone, he’s dead? And what if that’s the accident Noriko had?” Zuko asked.

“We won’t know until we ask. And Zuko,” Katara waited until he looked at her. “It’s your mother.”

Looking pained, he only nodded.

It was the middle of the night when they landed in Hira’a. Too anxious to sleep, Zuko threw himself into work while Katara tried to coax him to at least lay down. He ignored her and she had to give up, too tired to fight him.

In the morning, he looked haunted. He was quiet as they ate breakfast and got ready for their outing. After washing his face and having some coffee, a little bit of life returned but it still wasn’t much to dispel his mood.

“Ready?” Katara asked.

Zuko nodded.

They took a taxi this time, as Zuko was too jittery to sit on a motorbike. As they neared Noren’s home, his body seemed to spasm.

Katara took his hand and he stilled.

“It’ll be okay.” She murmured.

When they exited, the door to Noren’s house opened. The taxi pulled away when Noren stepped out.

“Zuko?” He asked, clearly surprised. “Ah, forgive me, Fire Lord.”

Noren bowed and Zuko took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly.

“Noren, I need to ask you something.” He said.

“Of course. Come in, come in.” Noren said hurriedly, gesturing for them to enter.

Zuko and Katara walked in, feeling the cool AC brush against their faces.

“Noriko left to take Kiyi to her art class. I hope you’ll stay long enough to see her.” Noren said as he shut the door. “Now how can I help the Fire Lord?”

“I need you to tell me about Ikem, and my mother.” Zuko said, turning around to look at Noren. The other man’s face paled.

“Your mother?” He repeated.

“Zuko saw a vision of Ursa in the Foggy Swamp. And Noriko.” Katara said.

Noren staggered backward, falling into the door. Katara grabbed him, steadying him and looking back at Zuko.

“Your mother…” Noren murmured.

“You knew her. Both of them.” Zuko said.

“They were childhood sweethearts, you said.” Katara added gently.

“Yes, yes I knew them.” Noren said, nodding and standing on his own. “I knew them well.”

Noren stood, looking distantly into his memory. Zuko stood quietly, watching him.

“Should we have something to drink?” Katara suggested.

Noren shook himself, looking bewildered from her to Zuko, as if he didn’t expect to see them there.

“Right. Tea.” He mumbled and walked to the kitchen. Katara took Zuko’s arm and led him to the couch in the living room, sitting him down.

“Are you doing okay?” She asked.

“Yeah.” Zuko said softly.

“I’m going to see if Noren needs any help. I’ll be right back.”

“Sure.”

Katara walked to the kitchen and could hear Noren speaking quietly as she neared. Stepping through the archway, she saw him standing at the phone mounted on the wall, covering the mouth piece with his hand.

“Just do some shopping or something. You can bring Kiyi back home for dinner.”

Katara frowned and stepped further into the kitchen.

“Is everything alright?” She asked.

Noren jumped and slammed the phone back onto the mount.

“Noriko forgot her grocery list. I was telling her what we needed.” He said and moved hurriedly to the stove.

“How thoughtful.” Katara said flatly.

Noren grabbed his kettle and moved toward the sink.

“Let me.” Katara said, sweeping in and grabbing the handle from him. Pulling her hand through the air, water shot out of the faucet, causing the handle to screech as it was forced up to open the valve.

Keeping icy eye contact, she filled the kettle and used the rest of the water to slam the handle back down. Then, flashing Noren a cold smile, Katara returned the kettle to the stove and clicked the knob to turn on the gas.

“I know you know something, Noren, and I know Noriko is involved.” Katara said, watching the spark under the grate before it caught the gas. A flame shot up and she turned the knob down, placing the kettle on the grate.

“I know you want to protect your wife,” Katara turned and stared at Noren. “But you owe Zuko the truth.”

“The truth is going to make things worse.” Noren said.

“You don’t know that.” Katara replied.

“Trust me, I do.” He said.

“No.” Katara repeated firmly. Her hands curled into fists and the kettle started to scream, steam already pouring out of the spout and spitting boiling water.

“Tsk.” Katara wound water from the air around her hand, freezing it as she grabbed the handle of the kettle. “It’ll scald the tea.”

Noren collected the teapot and tea tin, setting them on the counter as Katara brought the water to the correct temperature.

“Aren’t you a Firebender? Make it hot.”

Katara sighed, chilling the water and calming herself as she poured. Zuko was far better at making tea.

Noren busied himself with the tray while Katara made the tea. She followed him back out to the living room, where Zuko was still sitting quietly.

“That was fast.” He said.

“I can make water hot too.” Katara said, bumping purposefully into his knees as she moved to sit next to him.

“Now, Zuko, you said you had a vision?” Noren asked as he poured out the tea. He handed out the cups, but avoided Katara’s eye.

“Yes.” Zuko said simply and Noren sat down.

“The Foggy Swamp is one of the places on earth where spirits have an easier time moving through the veil.” Katara explained. “We went out with a group and I think we all saw something.”

“The spirits?” Noren asked, sounding anxious again. “There are other places where they enter?”

His words stuck out to Katara but she nodded.

“The oasis in the North Pole is always open because of Tui and La, and that’s not always a good thing.” She said. “I heard there’s a couple of places in the Earth Kingdom, and it’s rumored there’s a library in the desert, but the Foggy Swamp is the largest place where spirits have been found.”

“Is there a place near here?” Zuko asked, having also caught on Noren’s question.

“I…” Noren brought up his tea cup but didn’t drink. He lowered it and looked down into it.

“There are three lakes in the woods, just outside of the village. A spirit visits on each solstice and has...powers.” He said.

“What kind of powers?” Katara asked suspiciously.

“It’s said that she is fate and controls the past, the present, and the future. And that she shapes each and every human before they are born, creating their entire lives.” Noren said.

“What does she do at the lakes?” Zuko asked.

“She can change….things.” Noren answered.

“What things?” Zuko questioned.

“I-” Noren started but jumped as the front door opened.

Noriko burst in and looked around, shocked to see Zuko and Katara.

“Fire Lord?” She asked, confused.

“Noriko.” Katara said and stood.

“Gah!” Noriko shut the door and smacked the back of Noren’s chair. “I thought there were burglars!”

“I told you not to come home!” Noren said, putting his tea cup down and turning in his seat.

“Why? Because the Fire Lord and the Queen are here?” Noriko clicked her tongue in annoyance. “They come to see us all the time.”

Noriko pushed past Noren’s chair and went to Zuko, holding out her arms.

“It is so good to see you, la.” She said and Zuko rose. He hugged her and Noriko rested her head on his chest for a moment.

“It’s good to see you, Auntie.” He said.

“Oh! You sound so tired! What happened?” Noriko patted her hands against Zuko’s chest and then turned around. “What tea is this? Did you get this out of the gold tin?”

Noren shook his head and Noriko clicked her tongue again.

“Serving the Fire Lord such mediocre tea. His uncle owns a tea shop in Ba Sing Se! This is ridiculous.” She said.

“Noriko.” Noren said but Noriko waved him off, walking to the kitchen.

“I’m making a fresh pot.” She said.

“Noriko.” Noren said again, sound desperate. Noriko stopped and looked at her husband. She then glanced at Zuko and Katara.

“What’s happened?” She asked.

“Auntie, when did you come to Hira’a?” Zuko asked.

“When did I…?” Noriko frowned. “I was born here.”

She turned to Noren. “I was born here, right?”

“My mother came here, thirteen years ago, didn’t she? Looking for Ikem?” Zuko asked.

Noriko, still frowning, wrung her hands.

“I don’t know them.” She said.

“Noriko.” Noren said gently, standing up and taking her hands in his. He lifted them to his face and kissed her hands.

“Ursa came back, as you said. She wasn’t looking for Ikem though. She thought he was already dead.” Noren said, lowering Noriko’s hands and staring at them. “She knew her husband was a jealous man.”

Katara took Zuko’s hand and felt the chill of his skin.

“I met her at the theatre. I recognized her immediately; it was like she hadn’t aged a day.” Noren said, looking now at Noriko’s face. “She’s still the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.”

Noriko pulled away and Noren turned to Zuko and Katara.

“The Mother of Faces can change how someone looks. She can also take away memories.” He said.

“What?” Zuko asked.

“Ozai sent men after me, shortly after Ursa left the village. I tried to hide in the woods and found the Mother of Faces by accident. I asked her to change me, but to leave my memories so I could always remember Ursa.” Noren said.

“And when Ursa came back, you took her into the woods.” Katara said.

“It was to protect her.” Noren said and faced Zuko. “Your father was going to kill her.”

“Was it protecting her when she forgot her children?” Katara demanded.

“Noren, what are you saying?” Noriko asked, pulling on Noren’s sleeve.

“She thought she’d never see them again. That she’d never see you again.” Noren looked from Katara to Zuko. “It was unbearable for her.”

“You were able to keep memories of Ursa, did you know you would see her again?” Katara shouted.

Noren, hurt and panicked, stepped toward her.

“No! But I couldn’t think of living a life without a memory of her.” He said.

“So when Zuko was in your home, playing with his half-sister, you were happy to say nothing?” Katara questioned.

“Ozai could still-”

“Zuko is Fire Lord now!” Katara yelled.

“Stop!” Noriko cried, stepping in front of Noren and holding out her arms. “Please!”

“Both of you are incredibly selfish.” Katara spat. She glared at Noriko, even as the woman cowered. “How could you choose to forget your own children? After what you did for them?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Noriko said weakly, slowly dissolving into tears.

“Katara.” Zuko said, his voice flat.

“Childhood sweethearts.” Katara said mockingly. She then pointed at Noren. “You are just as jealous and possessive as Ozai.”

“Katara, let’s go.” Zuko said. “She made her choice.”

Katara turned and they both started to walk to the door, hearing Noriko whimper behind them. As Zuko touched the handle, Noriko spoke quietly.

“Turtleducks.” She whispered.

The handle in Zuko’s hand melted.

“What.” He croaked, looking at the door.

Katara turned and saw Noren holding Noriko, who was looking down at the floor.

“I remember a turtleduck pond. And a little boy.” She said. “Turtleducks don’t live in Hira’a.”

“They live in Caldera in the summer. The ducklings would always hatch around my birthday.” Zuko said.

Katara leaned across him, cooling the metal and pulling it off. Dropping it on the floor, she could feel Noren and Noriko jump at the sudden clatter.

“Come on, let’s go.” She said, slipping her fingers into the space where the doorknob was and ripping the door open.

“There was a little girl too, do you remember her?” Zuko asked, now sounding hurt.

“Kiyi?” Noriko asked, sounding hopeful.

Zuko winced, shutting his eyes and Katara tugged on his arm.

“Let’s go.” She said again.

Katara got the taxi and gently handled Zuko into the backseat. He moved like an old man, or someone recovering from a bad fever. His skin switched rapidly from hot to cold and Katara forced him into the bathroom when they got to their rented home.

She drew a bath for him and sat next to the tub. Zuko brought his knees to his chest, curling over his legs and sobbing. Katara stayed quiet, having to focus on her bending to keep the water from scalding or freezing him as his own bending went haywire.

This was something they had talked about; their shared history dotted with moments of self-destruction.

When the water stayed the same temperature and Zuko started to slump, Katara leaned over the edge to wash his hair. At the very least, she could manage that.

After rinsing the soap out, Katara grabbed a towel as he got out. She dried him gently and Zuko stopped her. He hugged her tightly and Katara dropped the towel, feeling his damp skin cling to her shirt.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered.

“She said she poisoned Azulon to protect me. But then she just….forgot me.” Zuko said, choking up again.

“I know.”

“She forgot Azula. Azula truly had no one.”

“She had you.”

“And look what I did to her.”

“Zuko.”

“How could she forget us?”

“I don’t know.” Katara stepped back and held Zuko’s face in her hands. “But so many people have chosen to keep you in their lives. I chose you, and I will continue to choose you every day, for the rest of my life.”

Zuko nodded and she picked up the towel. After she got him in bed, Katara sat in the bed and watched him fall asleep. As she gently pushed his long hair out of his face, she examined the different halves.

Plucking the water out of her shirt, Katara swiped a finger at the edge of the scar.

From the moment she first saw him, she knew what the scar was. Third degree burn, having damaged the epidermis and dermis. The burn was treated well but resulted in permanent hearing loss in one ear, vision loss in the affected eye, and contracture scar. Scarring is the result of damage being healed and collagen production.

Only water from the spirit oasis had ever done anything to clear away scars.

As Katara shook the water off her finger, she knew nothing had changed.

He had been a child.

He had faced his father, knowing his mother had died at Ozai’s hand.

“I wish I had known you when we were children.” Katara whispered as she laid down next to Zuko. “I would have loved you then and ever after.”

Curling into his side, Katara closed her eyes. When she had children, she would be a better mother.

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#zutara #fanfiction #jax writes #zutara month #modern au #the fic that prompts built

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 4 years ago

Text

BTS DRABBLE

It’s never difficult to be around Hoseok or Jimin. Hobi is the actual human form of sunshine 98% of the time, and Jimin is so lovely and sweet and perfect that you wonder on a daily basis if he’s not actually an angel. You’re lucky-you always realize that-but on days like today, when you’re tired and stressed and more than a little crampy-it hits you all over again-just how lucky you actually are. Because with these two men, nothing goes unnoticed, and you never go unloved.

Or rather, Jess writes a fluffy, purely self indulgent, domestic relationship AU featuring JiHope in honor of Hobi’s birthday week. Happy Hobiuary! 💜

Tags: BTS, Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, Jung Hoseok, J-Hope, Hobi, Hoseok, Park Jimin, Jimin, BTS x you, BTS x reader, Poly!BTS, Hoseok x you, Hoseok x reader, Jimin x you, Jimin x reader, Hoseok x Jimin, JiHope, Fluff

Genre: Tooth Rotting Fluff

Title: Champagne Bubbles

It had been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

As soon as you had gotten into work that morning, the vet on duty had instantly started yelling-overwhelmed and swamped by cases already-and scared of angering her any further, you hadn’t stopped running since 6 AM.

Cut to the last hour of your shift, and you had somehow managed to get every animal substance known to man on your scrubs-you were fairly certain that last rowdy patient had peed on you more than once-and you looked, and smelled, like someone who was at the end of their metaphorical rope.

However, you still had to take an exam at the nearby university before heading home, and so, throwing your coat on over your soiled clothes, you headed for the library, the world-dark when you left the apartment that morning-dark once more as the moon crested over the nearby buildings.

You failed the exam.

It was hard to drive home-what with the darkened streets and the exhausted tears starting to brim and overflow-but you managed to make it, and pulling into your spot, you allowed yourself to just sit for a moment, forehead resting forlornly on the cold steering wheel.

This day could not get worse.

Famous last words.

Cut to now, as you’re walking up the last flight of stairs to your apartment, and you start to feel the telltale cramping low in your abdomen, the kind that makes you wanna crawl in bed, throw a blanket over your head, and curl up-fetal position-around a hot bean bag.

“Dammit, why.” You groan out, reaching the landing, as you blindly dig your hand into your purse to search for your keys, a simple task, that feels like an impossible trial in your tired state.

Good thing you had been prepared and put in a tampon that morning when you had woken with the impending signs of doom and a headache.

Finally locating your keys, you unlock the door to the darkened apartment and let out a sigh of tired relief as you let your bag slide to the floor right in front of the entrance, kicking off your worn and smelly sneakers without a thought.

Well, without a thought other than getting into a hot shower and falling into your bed with a heating pad and a blanket over your head.

It’s quiet in the apartment, and you wonder briefly, if Jimin and Hobi are already asleep as you creep quietly toward the hallway. You are home a lot later than normal.

You all rise early together every day and split ways in the parking garage-you headed for the emergency vet clinic, Jimin waving cheerfully as he leaves in his old beater for his job as manager at the local coffee shop, and Hobi driving off far too fast on his scooter toward the local arts college, where he teaches dance classes.

You all usually go to bed early too, at the same time, together, but tonight, you’re far later than usual and the apartment is lacking the sunshine of Hobi’s bright smile and Jimin’s soft welcome home embrace.

Your footsteps falter at the kitchen, and suddenly, you let out an audible groan, as your eyes are drawn to the kitchen sink sitting dark in one corner.

Dammit. You still needed to do the breakfast dishes.

Shuffling across the tile of the kitchen, you turn on the hot water and let it wash over your cold, chapped hands for a moment, before your reach into the sink blindly, searching for the first dirty dish.

You glance down in surprise when-after moments of fruitless searching-you find nothing in the sink, and note, suddenly, that it is empty and spotless, the dishes already done and put away in the cabinets.

Interesting.

You don’t allow yourself to dwell on this for long however, before your tired, aching feet are leading you down the dim hallway once more, toward the safety and warmth of the bathroom and the delicious idea of hot, steaming shower for your tired and dirty body.

Pushing open the door, careful to be quiet, in case your boyfriends are truly sleeping like you think, your eyes widen once more in surprise for the second time in as many minutes.

The bathroom is softly aglow with the light of candles, the atmosphere warm and scented like roses and champagne, and in the flickering light, you note that the small bathtub in the corner has been filled to the brim with steaming, lapping water, perfumed with the oily slick of some sort of bath salt.

“What the hell-” You breathe out beneath your breath, and suddenly, you don’t feel so tired anymore, and the corners of your mouth are tilting upward in the start of a fond smile, as you observe the carefully presented scene before you.

First the dishes, and now a bath?

The boys are definitely up to something.

Shucking your heavy coat off onto the bathroom floor, you trek back the way you have just come, and without knocking, push open the door to the bedroom.

The room is dimly lit by the string of clear lights that adorn the wall above the bed-giving it a cozy and soft glow-and by the flickering of a movie playing quietly on the TV.

You lean against the door frame and take in the scene for a moment, the smile on your lips growing unwittingly bigger as you observe your boyfriends, curled up in the middle of the queen bed, piled under several blankets, looking soft and ethereal and altogether incredibly comfortable.

Jimin looks up first, large dark eyes reflecting the light from the tv screen, blonde hair ruffled in an adorable way, as if he has just taken a shower, and smiles when he sees you, eyes creasing into half moons. “Baby girl! you’re back!”

Hobi glances over at Jimin’s words, chin resting on the shorter man’s head where it lays on his chest, and offers you one his breathtaking smiles, and the room becomes a million times lighter, as if the sun has just peeked through the curtains. “Hey beautiful! Long day?”

“Incredibly.” You nod, glancing over to the movie they’re watching. Some action flick you’ve never seen. “What’d you guys do, by the way?” You ask nonchalantly, slightly teasing, as you draw your attention back to them once more.

“What do you mean?” Jimin asks, sitting up now, full lips drawn into an incredibly cute pout that you struggle to resist.

“You know.” You motion vaguely over your shoulder. “First the dishes, now a bath?” You grin teasingly, shrugging, suddenly all too aware that you’re still in your stinky scrubs. “You guys must have done something really bad to suck up like this.”

“You’d think, right?” Hobi jokes back, laughing loudly, as he slides away from Jimin and stands, and you note, as he comes toward you, that he’s wearing the plaid pajama bottoms you had tried so hard to throw away last year.

He pauses in front of you, quirking his head in an endearing way, and reaches out to tuck back a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Actually though,” He offers you the hint of a soft, heart shaped smile. “We just wanted to spoil you after a long day. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Give us some credit, baby.” Jimin has joined you both at the doorway now, and he yawns, reaching up to ruffle his already disheveled hair, before he shoots you a mischievous smile that makes his eyes light up. “We’re not completely dense.”

“I know.” You laugh now, and the tiredness is showing through again, straining your mirth. “Thank you.” You give them both a fond, affectionate half smile, the best you can do for now.

You have to admit, the bath is calling your name.

“Your bath is gonna get cold.” Jimin states, as if he has read your thoughts, and he leans forward, whether to push you toward the bathroom, or hug you, you don’t know, but you avoid his hold by stepping backward.

“Ew. Don’t touch me, Chim.” You wrinkle your nose as you glance down at your soiled work clothes. “I seriously think I was peed on like fifteen times today.”

Jimin’s brow crinkles, and he shoots you a teasing look of disgust. “Okay. You don’t have to twist my arm. I’ll wait till you’re clean.”

Hobi laughs, and the sound gives you the motivation you need to give them each a little grin and wave, before heading toward the bathroom and the much awaited bath.

******

The bath rejuvenates you, and by the time you return to the bedroom, wrapped in a towel and skin red and raw from soaking, you feel like a completely new person.

Though you can still feel the exhaustion creeping up your bones.

The boys are back in the bed, cuddled up like before, but there is another movie going on the TV now-a chick flick-and the bedside lamp is on.

“You started another movie without me?” You ask playfully, digging through the dresser to find your pajama shorts and tank top, one hand holding the towel securely at your chest.

“You took too long.” Hobi complains around a mouthful of popcorn, his free arm looped loosely around Jimin’s shoulders. “We thought you drowned.”

“And you didn’t check to see?” You jab back, glancing over your shoulder, as you finally locate your clothes, and shoot Hobi a playful glare, eyebrow raised in the man’s direction.

He shrugs. “Didn’t want to miss the movie.”

You roll your eyes, and start to slip your now clean legs into the pajama shorts, beginning to shiver now in the cool air of the room.

“You know, baby girl.” Jimin speaks up now, and his normally lilting tones are darker, sultry, suggestively playful. You glance at him, and he raises a brow at you, teeth sunken slightly into his plush, bottom lip, as his eyes scan the naked expanse of your legs. “You could cut down on time. Just not wear anything. Merely a suggestion.”

You roll your eyes once more, and stick your tongue out at him, before pointedly holding his gaze as you finish putting on the rest of your pajama outfit.

Sliding hurriedly into the warmth of the bed next to Jimin, you are caught off guard to feel the heat of an already hot heating pad beneath the covers, and you glance over questioningly at the two men beside you.

Jimin grins in a way that makes your stomach warm with love and fondness. “Don’t tell me you didn’t think we knew.” He cocks his head at you, blonde hair falling into his eyes. “Come on, baby. You’re as easy to read as a book. And you know we keep track.”

You consider making a teasing remark in return-about them keeping a calendar or something in their phones about the dates of your period-but instead, you decide to simply utter a soft “thank you” as you situate the heating pad, and snuggle down beneath the blankets next to Jimin.

He slides his arm beneath your body and pulls you against him, and his body heat is instantly making your eyes droop slightly and a heavy feeling of comfort wash over your tired muscles as you allow your head to rest heavily on his chest, heartbeat steady beneath your ear.

You glance at the TV and recognize the movie scene that is being played.

You groan. “You guys know I hate this movie.”

“Which is why we’re watching it.” Hobi teases, letting the hand that is resting on Jimin’s shoulder flick so that his long fingers tickle your hair and the top of your head. “It’s time for you to realize what good media is, beautiful.”

“Whatever.” You grumble out, burying your face into Jimin’s side, your eyes already closing, as you breathe in the smell of him-sandalwood and vanilla and something soft that feels like home. “I’m not gonna watch it anyway.”

You feel Jimin press a kiss to the top of your head, and Hobi rest his hand on the crown of your hair, and the affectionate gestures-just to let you know they’re there, that they’ll always be there-make you feel as if you’re home.

You are home.

Because you’re so lucky. Lucky to have them both in your life. Lucky to have two people who make you feel as if home is not a place, but a feeling.

You are the luckiest.

And you realize that every single day.

But days like today-that are terrible and horrible and no good-yet still end here, curled up next to your two favorite people in the whole world, make you realize that the most.

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ashtonangst · 5 years ago

Text

Bet. / Ashton Irwin

Hello friends and welcome to ashtonangst’s first ever full on smut! This was something I typed up at midnight, during my prime thirst hours. Thanks to @kindahoping4forever for proofing it for me and hyping me up xoxo luv u

Word Count: 2.6k

Rating: R

Warnings: blink-and-you’ll-miss-it masturbation and daddy kink; dirty talk; oral (m+f receiving); teasing; unprotected sex in a committed relationship

Let me know what you think!

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

The book sat heavy in your lap. Unopened, begging to be read. The fantasies within its pages were nothing compared to the ones you couldn’t stop thinking about.

It was a dare. You were fed up with Ashton’s incessant need to be fucked (not that you protested often). It was as if his hands had a libido of their own. You’d dared him to go one week without touching you--or himself. General displays of affection were permissible, but absolutely nothing sexual. The winner of this dare would choose what the other did to them. When you gave him this challenge, you knew he would cave. He always does. Except this time it was different.

After a year together you knew what made each other tick. You shared the same fantasies and carried these out often. This time, Ashton decided to use this knowledge to his advantage. He started walking around in nothing but his (and your) favorite pair of lounging shorts. He made a show of adjusting himself to let you know he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Then, in his practice sessions, he invited you to watch, knowing how much you loved to watch him make perfect rhythms from his head. He waited until you were up and focused on other things to go for his daily canyon jog. He made a show of stretching (his “warm ups”) in that tank top--the white one that he knew drove you mad--until you were practically drooling at the sight of his muscles flexing under the fabric.

One particular day, closer to when the tension was so thick you almost thought you could give in, he caught you ogling at the combination he’d chosen for his workout: the dreaded white tank and the tightest pair of black athletic shorts he owned, a combination that was sure to send warmth between your thighs.

“Like what you see, love?” he smirked, choosing his playlist for the workout.

“I always do, but don’t think you’re gonna win this one this time, baby,” you retort, trying not to stare as he made his way over to stand next to you while he prepared his water bottle. He chuckles softly, screwing the lid onto the container and flexing at the same time. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you trying to get me to cave. My willpower has always been stronger than yours, you know this.”

“I know,” he breathes, coming to stand behind your chair at the kitchen island where you were enjoying your morning coffee. “But never underestimate a man’s desire to have his girlfriend writhing under him in complete and total ecstasy,” he places kisses up and down your neck in the process--just barely staying within the guidelines of the dare. “I can’t wait to have you screaming for my cock...begging me to fuck you raw because you were just too fucking greedy to win at your own game and you’re mad that I haven’t let you cum all night.” He leans up, walking towards the door and grabbing his belongings. You frustratedly sigh at his absence, the filthy words that came from his mouth only seconds before making you want just that--right then and there.

That’s how you ended up trying to read the latest novel on your list to distract yourself from the growing need you felt deep in the pits of your stomach. The further your eyes scanned the pages, the more the words ran together, eventually forming pages and pages of black lines. Between those lines was Ashton, his cock hitting in those just-right places, coaxing you to your fifth orgasm. Eventually you blink yourself out of this fantasy.

You were the one who suggested this little game, you weren’t about to lose at your own game. That was until you found your hand traveling farther and farther down your body, until it disappeared under the waistband of your panties, finding your clit with ease. As you slowly started to rub yourself, you’re drawn out of your own fantasies by the sound of Ashton’s keys jingling in the lock. You quickly compose yourself, and before he has the door open you’re waltzing into the kitchen to place your mug in the sink. You give him a coy smile, “hi, darling. Looks like your workout went well.”

“It was very nice, thanks for asking. I kind of bit myself in the ass, though, from my stunt this morning. I couldn’t stop thinking about licking your pussy until you’re cumming all over my mouth.”

You look up at him with wide eyes before a smirk forms on your lips. “Ashton Irwin, are you admitting defeat?”

His shoulders hang in mock surrender. “Only if it means that part of your punishment for losing the bet is that I get to taste that sweet pussy of yours.”

You slowly approach him, giving him the same lust-filled eyes he’s giving you. “Think about how good I taste while you’re showering. Then I’ll think about letting you eat my pussy.” He hums with lust thick in his throat as he heads toward the shower. You smile to yourself, knowing you’re not going to give up so quickly.

You’re nowhere to be found when he’s showered from his late-morning jog. You’re out grabbing the groceries he forgot to pick up, he thinks. He also wonders if he’ll have time to hide the evidence if he spurts his own load all over his clean shirt, his shorts, and the sheets. Just as you had been so rudely interrupted earlier, he, too, found himself scrambling to act casual as he heard the sliding door to the garden snap shut. He smiles at you as you make your way back into the shared bedroom. “I wasn’t admitting defeat, you know. Just letting you know what I’m going to do to you once I win our bet.”

You give him a curt smile. “Fine, let’s add three more days onto this bet.”

______

The week passes with relatively little tension. Sure, it’s always there, but the two of you were too stubborn to admit defeat and give into your own desires that the bet was still on and going strong. That is, until you hear Ashton’s weak groans as he’s in the shower. You immediately know that he’s launching weak spurts of his cum onto the shower wall. He’s caved. You knew he always would. You pity him, really.

You were getting close to inserting your own two fingers into your warm and aching pussy at this thought when you decided to make his punishment an anti-punishment--reward him for holding off for a whole week with the promise of your sweet, sweet pussy on his tongue at the end of it.

As always, he’s only wearing a towel when he emerges from the steamy room. “Enjoy your shower this morning, baby?” You know the answer to this question, but he still stops dead in his tracks. “I at least hope you rinsed your cum off of the wall. That shit’s a bitch to clean once it’s dry.”

He turns slowly on one heel. “Do you think this is fun? Is this your sadistic way to prove to me that you’re the dominant one in this relationship? Daddy gets to touch himself any fucking time he wants to.” The switch had flipped. He tried to be submissive to the woman who makes his heart soar--to make her happy, to fulfill all of her desires--but he needed her too badly. He had to have his way, that’s just how it’s been the entirety of your sexual relationship.

You gulp, unsure of what to respond. You notice he’s begun to grow hard again, and finally admit that he’s too sure of himself to let you win this game. You both want it now, you’re both going to get it now. He turns to dig through his drawers, searching for an outfit for the day. “Let me help you, baby,” you speak, but it’s barely audible over his rummaging. You come off of the bed and pad closer to him until you’re standing behind him, kissing his back. “Come to the bed, please, baby.” He turns and looks at you, lust and exhaustion clouding his eyes. He bounds over to the mattress, deciding to stand instead of sit. “I know you're tired of my game. Truce?”

He nods quietly, and the silence is deafening. He’s not going to give you the satisfaction of winning, but he’ll take the loser's prize. Never breaking eye contact, you sink lower until you’re eye-level with his now fully hard cock. He watches in silent awe as you salivate when you finally drop the towel he’d loosely tied around his hips. His cock springs free, the tip red and needy despite his quick jerk in the shower only minutes before. You take it in your hand, its weight fits nicely in your hand, your favorite feeling. You look at him watching you as you lick a thick stripe up the underside of his cock, making it twitch on your tongue. You hum as you take him fully into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you take every inch of him.

He’s amazed. He loves that pretty mouth of yours, and fuck, does he love having his cock put in it. He gathers your hair into a loose ponytail, just enough for him to see the tears develop in the corners of your eyes. Your free hand fondles his balls, just the way he likes, causing his hips to snap, pushing his cock deeper into your throat. You pull off of it with a breath, a string of spit connecting your chin and his tip. With doe eyes you rasp, “fuck my face, you earned it.” He groans in delight, his cock twitching in your hand for the umpteenth time. He tightens his grip in your hair, causing your scalp to sting.

He puts the feelings of the past week into every thrust into your throat. He watches the tears fall from your cheeks, but the hum in the bottom of your throat tells him you’re enjoying this, too. His thrusts become sloppy, his moans growing louder. You feel his cock jerk on your tongue in the same instant that he’s pushing your head still on his cock. His load comes hot, thick, and with loud moans of praises and thanks. You stand, humming with pleasure as you wipe the last bit of his cum from your chin. He’s breathless, but the look on his face tells you he’s far from spent.

“Lay down. Strip. Spread,” he gruffs out. This is a new reaction that sends sparks through your body. You quickly oblige, excited for his repayment. As soon as he catches a glimpse of your glistening pussy, he’s holding down your hips in preparation for his assault. “So wet for me, baby. You haven’t touched yourself, not even once, this whole week? What a shame, such a pretty pussy,” he tuts, running a finger through your slick folds and taking your nipple between his teeth, sucking harshly. He lets go with a loud pop, but follows it with firm slaps to each sensitive breast, earning a whimper from your lips. “I bet you thought about this every day...having my cock so deep in you you can feel me in your stomach...crying out, begging me to let you sit on my face. Fuck me, baby, you’re gorgeous. So wet, so needy for me. Where’s that dominant spirit that was here last week? She saw Daddy’s hard cock and got greedy. Needed me to touch her and wouldn’t tell me. Pitiful.” You can only respond to his words with whimpers, a stark contrast from the filth that you spewed to get him riled up.

“Ash...please...I need it...need your tongue, your cock...please.” You’re writhing under him, just as he imagined. He only gives a smile before diving in between your thighs. He hums when your fingers pull immediately at his scalp as he begins to suck harshly on your clit. He alternates between this movement and licking wide strips up the length of your pussy. You’ve begun to squirm more than he likes, so he wraps both arms over your thighs to hold them in place. He darts his tongue into your hole before deciding quickly to assault your clit and leave the rest up to his expert fingers. He knows you always beg for more when he begins with one finger, so he thrusts three fingers into you from the get, curling them up to hit your g-spot with each thrust. He moves his fingers and tongue faster when he hears your whimpers of praise fall from your lips. He knows you’re close, you’re clenching on his fingers so hard that he can hardly move them. Fuck, he wishes that was his cock. He feels it tremble again, a painful reminder that his needs were far from met. Your quiet moans turn into screams as his quiet hums turn into vibrating groans against your throbbing clit.

“Good girl...cum on my fingers for me...jus’ like that,” he coos as he feels your fingers dig into his scalp. He resumes his onslaught just in time for your first orgasm to hit. He licks your pussy clean, and by the time the stars have faded and the sounds of the room have floated back into your ears, he’s grabbing his long-forgotten towel to quickly wipe anything that his tongue couldn’t clean.

Without warning, his elbows are next to your ears as he pushes your thighs apart to settle between them. You can feel his needy cock brushing against your stomach. He swipes the head between your folds only once before bottoming out. You whine at the new sensation just as he lifts your leg over his shoulder, groaning at this new angle.

“Fuck, Ash...so fucking big...I’m so full,” is all you can repeat as his thrusts become heavier and longer. He pulls out almost completely just to slam himself back in several times, causing your head to spin.

“God, darlin’, you’re takin’ my cock so fucking well. Never gonna go without your pussy ever again. Never.” The fire returns in your belly as his thrusts are more sporadic and followed with loud groans and countless affirmations of praise.

“Ash, Ash...I’m close,” you breathily moan.

“Me, too, baby. Want you cumming on my cock...so tight...made just for me.”

His words are what finally send you over the edge. The stars shine brighter this time, the ringing in your ears the loudest bell ever made. He follows not far behind, his cock releasing thick ropes of cum deep inside of you. As you both fall from your highs, he leaves soft kisses along your neck and collarbone, staying buried inside you for as long as he can stand it.

You’re rubbing his scalp calmingly, breathing in his scent, a mix of citrus, musk, and Ashton. You break the comfortable silence with a chuckle and, “I don’t think I’ll be denying you anything for a very long time, Ashton.”

He laughs at that, agreeing. “Same here. I love you too much to go without showing you my love. But if we decide to play this game again, let’s make the reward more clear, yeah? We both got our way this time, I don't think that’s how this was supposed to work.” He laughs quietly and rolls to your side, pulling you to him in an almost fluid motion. “That was fucking worth the wait, though.” He kisses your forehead before giving you a soft peck on the cheek. He lets out an “I love you,” thick with sleep. You hum in response.

“I love you, too, especially when we both lose the same bet.”

#5sos smut #5sos writing #5sos fic #ashton smut #ashton irwin #ashton irwin smut #5 seconds of summer writing #5 seconds of summer smut #my writing #5sos blurb #5 seconds of summer blurb #kindahoping4forever #cal-puddies #irwinkitten #whyashton #gigglyirwin main #sexgodashton

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loquenomedices · 4 years ago

Note

carmuel + “i didn’t want to go to bed without you” for the writing meme!! also you’re not copying me at all, i hope it helps for you too!!!

The apartment is quiet and dim. Samuel stumbles over a shoe and curses, just to whisper-curse at himself cursing, lowly, because it's twenty past two at night and he should not be making noise right now.

The person who'd decided that all of his deadlines would be cramped into the span of one week was a real fucking sadist.

“You're home,” the light in the hallway switches on. He blinks at Carla, who has emerged from the kitchen, wearing a hoodie and leggings and looking way too lively for a person who is at home in the middle of the night and doesn't have to concern themselves with finalizing their degree, because they're, well, finished, have a stable job and could be asleep.

“You weren't sleeping?” Samuel's eyebrows crease, because, if he's being honest, he can't fathom why anyone who has even the slightest chance or sliver of time isn't dozing off. He had twenty minutes because his consultant had gone for a quick lunch and he fell asleep on the way-too small atelier couch, for fuck's sake.

“I saved dinner for you. I'm sure you didn't eat anything,” Carla ignores him completely, small crescent smile forming on her lips. “I'm not sure your face won't fall into the bowl within five minutes, but you should at least try.”

She leads him into the kitchen, fingers entwined, then sits him down like a child on the chair and turns to the pot on the stove. Samuel stares at the faucet by the sink, head thumping. Had he noticed that the faucet is slightly crooked before? Really, it's definitely leaning a bit towards the left-

“You need to ask for an extension,” Carla's voice sounds like from a great, indefinable distance, until the thump of a bowl and a splash of hot liquid makess him wake to his senses, a pair of green eyes framed by strands of golden hair in front of him. “I'm serious, Samuel, this is impossible. You don't even have time to sleep.”

“It's fine, I only have to be there at six tomorrow,” he mutters unconvincingly. Carla snorts. “Don't tell me about pulling all-nighters during the final stage of senior year, hypocrite.”

“I'm just worried about you,” Carla pecks his temple and he vaguely registers that he's kind of falling on her – fuck, he really is so tired – and she's drawing circles on the back of his palm. “Really, if you're overworking yourself this hard and it's not even the real thing-”

“I'm fine. It'll be over next week,” he mumbles, words hard to form. “But I just-”

“Yeah. Let's go to bed before you just pass out on the floor,” Carla nods resolutely – where do people get this much energy – and gets up with him, except not like a zombie. “Go to the bathroom, I'll clean up here.”

The water in the shower kinda helps him wake up and compose his thoughts – at the time when he doesn't need it anymore, lovely – so when he joins Carla, who's already in bed, changed into her pajamas and scrolling on her phone, he has enough energy to make semi-normal steps, not fall down like a blob but pretty humanly make his way under the covers, and ask: “Why did you wait up? I know you have that meeting tomorrow.”

“I didn't want to go to sleep without you,” the display grows dark as Carla presses the power button and gives him a tender glance with something else under it that doesn't go with her casual tone. “Again.”

Oh. A compunction.

“I'm sorry,” Samuel murmurs low into her hair, Carla settling her head on his chest comfortably. “I'm really sorry I don't have time for you, it's just that I have so much to do right now, but next week-”

“I'm not blaming you, stupid,” Carla shakes her head lazily, leans up to kiss his chin and then grins. “You need to shave, even though you have so much to do.”

“I'm so-”

The room goes dark as the switch of Carla's night stand lamp clicks.

“Stop apologizing. I get it.”

It's quiet for a while as she's looking for her place in his arms again. He embarces her like a perfect mold, each of her curves and her ticklish spots so well-known. He manages to trace his energyless fingertips over her hip and listens to the clinking quiet giggle, better than any music to his ears. “I love you. Now, go to sleep.”

Samuel doesn't know whether he thinks or says his me too, because he's already only half-awake.

#carmuel fanfic #prompt fills #mine #elite fanfic #carla x samuel #writing

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mlpdestinyverse · 4 years ago

Photo

“One November Eve”

One stormy eve, when Dream Flow mysteriously doesn't show for their meet up, Skychaser heads to his friend's home to find out what's keeping her. What he discovers isn't quite what he expected.

Feat. Skychaser, Dreamaria Flow

Related Chapters: Little Monster, Newcomer, Impasse

~Destinyverse Archive~

Skychaser isn't usually one to fuss when it comes to Dream Flow's occasional tendency to arrive late to their hangouts.

He's long accepted it as an on-and-off habit of hers, oversleeping or losing track of time. It's not like they've ever been in a rush, so it's never truly bothered him. Besides, it's easy to imagine her getting caught up in a busy, tiring schedule as an Emotion Counselor.

The latest he can remember her ever arriving was about thirty minutes past their designated time, and even then she came to him apologizing profusely before insisting on treating him to make up for the tardiness. He can tell that she's since made a more conscious effort to be more punctual, despite his assurance that he really doesn't mind.

An hour and twenty-two minutes late...now that's just plain out of character.

It's nearing 6 PM now, and it won't be long before they'll have to officially reschedule their sauna day for another time. Sky is still sitting at a cafe table, tapping his hoof against the wooden surface, the vibrations causing his long empty cup of mint chocolate chip ice cream to shake.

He'd been looking forward to relaxing within the embrace of hot steam on a chilly autumn day. More so than that was his eagerness to behold Dream's first heavenly sauna experience, as a mare who apparently had never even known of their existence until a week ago. She had mirrored his excitement, giving him a date where she'd be completely free. But that's all quickly becoming rather trivial compared to his growing bewilderment.

'Did she go on a last-minute errand run?? What is going on?'

It's only when a large droplet of rain nearly jabs his eye that he knows that the fall thunderstorm Ponyville ordered for the sake of building atmosphere towards Nightmare Night has begun. And it's at that moment that Sky knows he has a time limit before the rain starts pouring. So with a frown, he swiftly makes his way to a new location...

By the time he's in front of the door to Dream's house, the boughs of leafless trees have begun groaning and Sky's thick mane might as well be mauling his face, thanks to the whipping winds. Honestly, if it wasn't for the sheer absurdity that was the concept of being "stood up" by Dream of all ponies, he would have thought to arrive sooner to check on his friend. But looking at the house, the windows are completely absent of any light, and that becomes even more prominent with the darkening grey sky above him as the sun dips away and the clouds prepare to-

-drench him. Just...all at once. A waterfall-like sheet of rain crashes onto him, and he hisses a curse as he instinctively tries for the doorknob, despite knowing it won't open.

Except it does, and Skychaser has to blink a few times at that.

'Guess she went out and...forgot to lock it behind her...?'

A flash of lightning and Sky all but scrambles inside and shuts the door before the accompanying boom of thunder can deafen him.

As he enters the threshold, and his eyes adjust to the brief lightning flash followed by the interior darkness, he almost swears a separate faint light catches the edge of his vision. But it's gone before he can fully acknowledge it, and it leaves his mind as soon as he winces at the booming thunderclap.

"Hokay then..." Sky mutters. He shrugs off his hoodie and hangs it on the nearby coat rack. Having visited Dream's house numerous times before, finding and flicking on the closest light switch isn't too difficult. The warm lighting reveals the large, decently furnished living room he's grown quite accustomed to, as a place to spend time with his friend as well as a safe space for a few of their counseling sessions together: television and couch set up to the left, first-floor bathroom to the right, her open kitchen towards the very back, next to the polished curving staircase... "Wait for Dreamers it is..."

At least, he hopes Dream isn't still trying to make it to their sauna day. Once she realizes he's not at their meeting spot, she'll either look for him at the Cutie Mark Sanctuary if only to frantically apologize like the sweet doof she is, or she'll make the better call and head back home in this weather.

Unless she's forgotten their plans entirely. Then well...at the very least, she'll absolutely return straight home and they'll figure it out from there.

'Unless...an emergency...?'

Sky vigorously shakes the worrisome thought out of his head, only to flinch and curse again when water droplets fly everywhere and cling to the nearby wall. This isn't the time to go into Anxious-Brother-Mode™ when he should be hunting down a towel unless he wants to create a puddle in the middle of Dream's living roo- oh, a puddle's already forming, goddammit.

He carefully maneuvers himself towards Dream's towel closet on the right-most wall, right beside her bathroom door. But he sighs and gives up midway on tip-toeing when he realizes he's leaving a trail of rainwater anyway, making a faster beeline for it. Without pause he yanks it open and pulls out a fluffy towel with cute little sea motifs, aggressively drying his cursed sponge-like mop of hair; the true perpetrator of the puddles...a symbol of freedom and majesty now fallen from grace. For shame.

He sighs with relief once he feels sufficiently...less wet, albeit his feathers are sticking in almost every direction and his inner pegasus shrieks at him to preen- which, speaking of, is it weird��to preen in your friend's house when they're not there?

Shower Thoughts with Skychaser.

Sky lets the towel hang around his neck and grins to himself over his dumb mental joke- but upon closing the closet door fully, something he hadn't noticed before immediately greets him.

A single orange sticky note, attached to the door at eye level.

He's genuinely confused at first, but once his eyes flit over the words written on it in black marker, he near-instantly recalls the counseling session he'd shared with Dream not even a month ago. In this very living room, funnily enough:

"Sticky Note Affirmations" she had called it, suggesting it to him like many other forms of therapy they've given a go through the course of their friendship. He remembers her explaining it as a method of using positive affirmations in one's daily life, to "move the mind away from persistent negative thoughts" and "set in a more positive way of thinking".

"Positivity takes practice!" he can practically still hear the confidence in Dreamaria's voice from that day, her beaming face forming in his mind. "We may be our own worst critic, Sky, but we're also the one person in life who can be our most faithful supporter. So try cheering your future self on!"

It sounded a little silly at first, the idea of sticking notes around his room and expecting them to do anything. Dream Flow did say the results varied for everyone.

Now, Sky has a small collection of post-it notes that have given him just the slightest boost needed to help deviate that self-deprecating corner of his mind; more often than not, at least. Who knew that reading something as simple as "I Am Worthy" on his bedroom door every morning could make a difference in his outlook for the day? He sure didn't.

But maybe Dream being the source of the idea made her feel a little present within each of his notes, believing in him just as much as he was encouraging himself.

Dream specifically offered the idea of writing down kind compliments for himself. There were also reminders and encouragements for daily tasks, saved for the heavier days where such chores often felt impossible or pointless. Now one particular note near his comb encourages him to brush his mane each day because otherwise, he'll deal with knots that resemble a pile of tangled earbud cords - or worst...Astral Dusk's spikes - and risk shaving it all off in frustration (Monochrome would have a field day).

Anyway, that aside, the note on Dream's towel closet reminds him of that sort of encouragement:

"Because a hot shower organizes thoughts and helps warm the soul!" it motivates, in curvy writing that he definitely recognizes as Dream's.

It shouldn't be a surprise that Dreamaria would practice her own suggestions, maybe to test the effectiveness for herself; but at the same time, how effective could testing it be? In his friend's case it felt hilariously redundant, like a mere flashlight's beam merging in with an already blinding sunray of optimism. Or...something. He's not as poetic with words and comparisons as Eventide.

Point is, the living embodiment of positivity just setting up more positive inspiration for her "future self" is incredibly funny to him and wholesomely endearing.

Skychaser backs his way into the middle of her living room, bumping up near Dream's couch there, and gives the room a good squint - and to his delight, his eye catches the pastel colors of more sticky notes dotting the mare's kitchen.

Well, at least he has something to distract himself with while he waits on Dream Flow. And if there's anypony he'd love to read some encouraging wisdom from, it'd have to be the counselor herself.

So he starts at one end and slowly saunters through her kitchen space, from one note to the next, feeling his grin and amusement growing with each one.

"Because an uncluttered sink helps with an uncluttered mind!" a pink note above her sink declares, where a few glasses and plates have been left to sit.

"Use me! Because you've come so far as a cook, and I exist for a reason!" the green note on her spotless stovetop-oven all but shouts.

"Because your body deserves nourishment, and Uncle wants you to eat well. Don't forget to keep a full fridge!" one blue sticky note insists on her refrigerator. Skychaser slyly opens the freezer door to better gauge the sorts of things his friend prefers to indulge in, for the noble cause of future birthday bashes (he genuinely half expects a compartment full of ice cream). His eyebrows fly up when he sees it's empty besides a tray of ice cubes.

'She REALLY must have gone out for some serious grocery shopping, geez...'

Now that he thinks about it, it's curious, really. Because while Dream's session on the notes had been held a month ago, Skychaser had visited just a week before and he's certain these little reminders hadn't been present that day. But the folded corners and slight creases on the notes suggest that they aren't recent either...?

Huh. Weird.

Sky hears the rain audibly thrum harder on the roof. He glances at the door, then at the time on her microwave.

6:42. Still no Dreamaria.

Hooves clacking across the tiles, Skychaser turns to leave the kitchen. In an effort to set aside his uncertainty, he considers what distractions he could find on Dream's T.V. That is until he finds himself pausing by the kitchen island.

Skychaser now notices that amongst a clutter of unopened mail envelopes, a single letter has been left out. Were it not for the rather official-looking white and blue mailer with a broken gold wax seal, or the fancy thick yellow parchment of the letter itself, Skychaser would have overlooked it.

He fights with himself, eyes flicking back and forth between the rest of the living room and the strange letter just...laying there.

...his need for answers wins over. Because surely a small glimpse and the quickest skim just to understand the subject of such an out-of-place letter couldn't hurt. It just may be the very clue he's been seeking as to the whereabouts of his friend.

'An emergency', his mind supplies nervously again, the feeling intensifying when he picks out on the envelope's face that the mailing address is from Reinsford; Dreamaria's hometown.

'Yeah, that's not comforting...'

So sure enough, he sets his now-folded towel onto the counter and leans over the parchment, giving the sentences a quick once-over. He searches for names, keywords, the last line of the letter-

He stops.

He reads the last line again. Then a third time, his eyes widening with each reread.

'Hold the fuck on, am I-?'

Sky swoops the letter up into his wings. He squints harder, darting his orange irises back to the beginning. Because maybe context would confirm whether he's crazy or he just read what he thinks he just read.

"Dear Madam Dreamaria Flow,

I hope this package and its contents have found you in good health.

It has been a lengthy two years since your departure from our beloved coasts. Your absence has been profoundly felt by your fellow residents and myself, even to this very day.

While I would not dare to take up more of your time than necessary, I first wish to extend my deepest apologies for not reaching out to you sooner. Your uncle has shared a tale or two of your exploits in Ponyville, and though I am sure you have found success and a great sense of fulfillment in your new career - a hearty congratulations to you, may I add! - I have felt that a hefty debt was left unpaid the day you left this town.

It is only right that I follow through on my word. It took some time, but after vowing to properly reward you for your unforgettable deed, I am happy to announce that I have made great use of my authority to finally deliver:"

Halfway through the letter, the storm outside gives another bright flash of lightning, followed seconds later by a booming crack of thunder that almost shakes the air. A barely present corner of his mind registers something...slightly different about it; like a subtle sparking undercurrent of sound had joined in for just a second. But right now he's focused on this letter, too immersed in speed-reading the sentences to consider it as anything but a one-off:

"Enclosed is your very own Reinsford-sanctioned Certification of Arcane Excellence. Please do brandish this certificate with pride as a prior member of Reinsford's community. I believe such high credentials could prove useful and bode well if presented and proven to Princess Twilight Sparkle herself.

While losing someone as gifted and valuable as yourself thoroughly saddens us, we are quite pleased knowing our talented Dreamaria is still putting her skills to good use.

Remember that this town will always be your home. It has been far too long since we have last seen you. Never hesitate to visit, and if anything goes wrong, know that we will gladly welcome you back with open arms."

And then finally, he reaches that line again. Except he isn't sure if context has at all changed the amount of bewilderment and awe his discovery has brought him.

"Nonetheless, Reinsford will continue to miss its - official, as of this letter - dear Wizard, and its citizens whole-heartedly wish you well with your personal endeavors.

With gratitude, Mayor Bight"

A thunderclap of merciless lightning shatters the sky, and in that very instant, darkness falls around him.

The blackout startles Skychaser enough that he drops the letter and braces against the kitchen island with a soft yelp. He's thankful that the nearby streetlamp is managing to stream in just enough light through the windows to allow him the vaguest visual of his surroundings; shapes and desaturated colors and shadows, more than anything.

But now there is an eerie, deafening silence, with the background whirring of every appliance coming to a complete hush. The rain, the slightest shifts of his body, and his breath are suddenly much louder, almost reverberating through the room.

Whatever sense of confusion and wonder over Dream's letter has momentarily fizzled out, replaced by goosebumps and an immense sense of vulnerability. He feels small and uneasy - a single breathing body in an expanse of black and greys.

'Maybe I've uh...outstayed my welcome... If preening in your friend's empty house is weird, standing around for them in the darkness of their home may deserve a restraining order.'

He'll just have to table his questions and intrigue for another day, as exasperating as it is to have even fewer answers now than before.

For the sake of his boggled mind, he settles that Dream is out shopping. Or doing awesome-secret-wizard-shit, if this letter and her disappearance aren't just some strange, elaborate prank Dreamaria has set up just for him. Unlikely, yeah, but he's also learned that Dream Flow is pretty up there in terms of surprise factor.

Maybe he'll see enough faces on his way back to the Sanctuary to ask around about his friend. But before that, if he wants to even make that journey, he decides that a borrowed umbrella might be a good idea right about now. Or ooh, a cute, tiny raincoat he can drape over his head as he elegantly races through the streets before ducking underneath an awning and meeting his soulmate? Surely Dream had one or the other around somewhere.

The attempt to lighten his own mood somewhat works as he's able to blindly locate her letter, replace it on the counter, and urge himself forward through the low lit room. The air has been quick to drop temperature without its heating unit, only adding to the strangely oppressive atmosphere.

Thankfully the street light bounces off of the far wall - the one he had previously borrowed his towel from - preventing him from running face-first into it. If he's remembering right, and he traces the wall towards those curving stairs in the back corner...

The wall stops short. Tucked into the large alcove that follows, he finds his sought-after mystery door right near the foot of the stairs.

While aware of its existence, he admittedly has never seen the room's interior nor ever had a reason to check it out. He's only ever assumed it to be some sort of coat closet, so naturally, any form of raincoat or umbrella would surely be stored within. Most likely??

But as he steps up to the door, all too ready to prepare for his leave, he yet again is brought to a halt. He makes out a familiar small square shape in this shadowed corner of the house, attached to the door a little higher than the usual eye level.

'Oh. Even here?'

He almost chooses to ignore the sticky note with his priorities at hoof. But something about it draws his eye - and he realizes that, even in this lighting, he can faintly make out words. It's due to the writing itself, displaying neat and meticulous letters, as opposed to the other affirmations that were more hastily scrawled.

'"Because"..."you"...?'

Sky has to lean in until the bridge of his scrunched muzzle is just inches away from the note. His eyes have adjusted to the dark, so he's able to read the bleeding inky words:

"Because you'll prove them wrong."

.....

Skychaser allows himself a moment to give the note a good, long stare.

Maybe it's due to his current circumstances: the storm, the week of Nightmare Night, Dream's absence, standing alone inside a dark, deathly still building on a cold November eve. But the sharp change in tone from Dreamaria's previous notes definitely forces Sky to acknowledge just how unsettled he feels.

One step back and he's boring his visible eye into the closet door before him. That eye then falls to its silver door handle.

...this....is a closet that he just found that note on. Right?

Sky very quietly, very weakly laughs to himself. He moves to turn the handle before he can overthink it.

'Maybe this is where Dream keeps all the dead bodies.' he jests, pushing the door open a sliver.

It creaks under his hesitant grasp. With that crack, Sky notices a light source within, out of sight, in a room bigger than he honestly pictured; faint. Orange. ...pulsating?

BANG!

Sky releases an indecipherable shout right as the door in his grasp SLAMS back in place in one explosive movement. He stumbles backward but he doesn't get far, because in a whirlwind there are glowing blue lights flying around him in literal ribbons, erupting from the floor, grabbing him, coiling around him so rapidly that he doesn't get a chance to even unfurl his wings as he rears up, because now they're being tied to his back and his forelegs are bound up securely against his chest-

He's lifted, hoisted right off the ground and jostled about in the process of being turned. At this point he's stopped thrashing and has kept his eyes squeezed shut and his teeth painfully clenched. Upon the movements stopping, he cracks his eyes open to look down at himself.

Instead, his irises flash to his lower left, where the end of one ethereal ribbon is gradually creeping around his neck without actual contact: a silent threat. He can't control the pitifully strangled noise he lets out, desperately leaning his head as far away as possible, which isn't far at all.

'What the fuck, what the FUCK, I WAS FUCKING JOKING-'

He would be breaking down into hysterical laughter right about now if he wasn't so shaken. The only reason he hasn't entered a full-blown panic is that the ribbons have completely ceased their motions, and while tight, it's not enough to restrict his breathing. He's fine. He's okay.

Look at him. Those positive thinking exercises have been working...haha. ...coping with humor at a time like this probably isn't the healthiest, though, even if it's working to keep his sanity intact.

Maybe it's not fully hitting him. It all feels too unreal, like some realistic fever dream-

Violently swishing fabric rolls through his ears next, too pitched and harsh to be born from his imagination. Skychaser jolts, because in a single blink, the safe beams of the streetlight filtering in from each of the house's windows have been cruelly snuffed out. The curtains have all been pulled shut in one sweep. He's been left in true, absolute pitch darkness.

And then he sees it.

A set of white, glowing pinpricks of light, waiting in the shadows straight ahead.

Staring right back.

Watching him. Sky registers that this is real.

Body and throat seized up in terror, he doesn't even scream. He can't find his voice, only listening to his own labored breathing while those two glows eerily sway and grow closer. He catches the sound of slow, careful steps. Hoofclacks.

As his mind processes, the glowing orbs stop just outside of the light from his radiant restraints.

And they speak.

"...state your business."

The voice is low. Soft and husky, yet it carries in the quiet amongst a backdrop of rain. It's formal, frigid, and completely foreign to him.

Skychaser shivers.

"I-I..." he struggles out, his own voice hoarse but miraculously coherent despite his scrambled brain. "I was...l-looking-"

He snaps his mouth close when he hears a sharp inhale in front of him. It's followed by a much gentler, far more familiar tone.

"...Skychaser?"

Sky's eyes bug open, only for him to cringe away when a flash of light nearly blinds him. He blinks against it anyway, urging his pupils to focus in on-

Dream Flow.

The tip of her horn is illuminated with a small beacon of magical light - a beacon that closely resembles whatever the hell she's done to her pupils, filled at the centers with the very pinpricks of white that had shaken him previously.

The unicorn looks thoroughly dumbfounded. Wide-eyed, mouth open, head pulled back. When she seemingly confirms his identity for herself, her eyebrows knot even further.

"...you're...my intruder?" she slowly sounds out. "How did you...why are you here?"

Sky's remaining brain cell has long fizzled out by now, so he sputters at first before he exclaims back;

"Me?? I came here looking for you! You didn't show for our sauna meet! Where in Equestria have you been?!"

Cogs seem to turn in his friend's head for a few seconds before realization settles in.

"Oh." She murmurs, blinking owlishly at him. "That...yes. You're right. I...oh..."

More beats of silence pass. Sky shifts uncomfortably in the ribbons' grasp. Before he can even ask, the motion has Dream breaking out of her stupor. As if just realizing the state he's in, dismay flickers across her face. And yet she lets out a laugh, one he can only describe as stressed in this context.

"Oh Celestia, what a horrible...horrible misunderstanding!"

With a blue spark of her horn, Skychaser watches as the magical ribbons begin to shimmer and dissolve away, gently lowering him down as they do. He turns his head about at the rather pretty display, with sparkles left behind in the spell's wake before those dissolve in thin air too. Skychaser doesn't get to admire for long as he clumsily has to catch himself with his front hooves those final few inches to the floor.

He shoots her a perplexed look, but he doesn't think she sees it, because she's too busy aiming a secondary laugh at the floor. In his gut, he has the distinct impression that she doesn't actually find this humorous. Not with the way her shoulders have gone rigid.

"I am...so terribly sorry, Skychaser. I genuinely thought someone had broken into my house and...well, I was prepared for a confrontation!"

"I noticed!" he wheezes out, half-exasperated, half-jokingly. "You also look ready to shoot lasers out of your eyes, and I nearly peed myself because of it."

Dream winces, then squeezes her eyes and sets her horn sparking blue again. When she reopens them - thank God - her actual pupils have returned. The spectrum of colors in them are discernable again too - downcast, he discovers that the azure in her irises appears more pronounced. Or maybe it's the low lighting.

"They say intimidation leaves an impression," she quips, the corner of her mouth barely quirking up. She's still not looking at him. "Guess it worked, huh?"

Sky mouth pulls down into a deep frown, his gaze roaming over his friend. Dream's blue mane is unusually unkempt from what he's used to. The mare's form hasn't even moved an inch from its tight, almost closed off stance in the past minute or two - a significant contrast to the conversational cadence of her voice.

He doesn't think he's ever seen Dream so...physically withdrawn before. In a way, it was understandable in the aftermath of what's looking more and more like one very awkward, very startling mix-up. But it's also not like she hurt him.

"Hey, Dreamers, it's okay. You freaked me out, sure, but I'm WAY more relieved to see you. I was starting to think something serious happened."

Shortly afterward, Dream finally meets his eye, but only to offer a sad smile.

"I apologize for that! It seems I just..."

"Overslept?" Sky grins humorously, only to pause when Dream's expression dips into guilty. "Wait what?"

"I'd only meant to close my eyes for an hour or two at most-" she confesses, glancing up towards her stairs. "-and take a short rest before meeting up. But the murky weather must have lulled me." A chuckle bubbles out of her and she shakes her head. "I think my sleepy haze made me forget everything else once a 'threat' entered the picture. But that's no excuse. I won't let something this careless happen again, I promise."

Sky rubs his forehead. Not because he has a headache, but because the small puzzle pieces he now possesses are struggling to mash together. "So...you were actually upstairs? This whole time?"

Dream nods. "Yes, I woke up when..." Her eyes trail over towards the front door.

She goes quiet. Almost as soon as that answer fades out, another question begins. "....Sky, how did you get in anyway?"

"Your door was unlocked...?" he provides, letting the question in his tone voice his own confusion. "Which I thought was weird."

Dream answers with a short, disbelieving laugh. "Oh wowy! Seems I didn't lock it behind me when I got the mail today..." she breathes out a sigh. "I'm glad you got out of the storm, but I'll need to be more mindful."

Mail.

An opening presents itself to him. A way to find answers and ease tension, he hopes, as his buried intrigue and curiosity rises from the depths.

"Hey, don't sweat it! But I gotta say...that was a preeetty cool trick you did back there," A knowing grin spreads across his face, and he leans his head forward with a conspirational whisper. "Miss Wizard~"

Dreamaria doesn't respond right away. It takes her one steady beat before she slowly turns her head back towards him.

A blank stare greets him.

"...what?"

"You're a Wizard, Dreamy!" he chirps, bouncing between his hooves. "Congratulations! Even I couldn't believe it when I spotted your letter, but all that fancy-shmancy magic you did sure confirms it." He taps his hoof to his chin, humming playfully. "It sounds like you've had a bunch of snazzy spells up your sleeve for a while! Why'd you never-"

He's so lost in his giddy mental world of excitement and thrill that he almost misses the way Dream stiffens. Almost.

Because her smiles are gone now.

"You...read my letter."

It's less of a question and more a statement she's allowing to sink in. Caught off guard by her abrupt monotonous tone, he finds himself self-conscious in his reply.

"Yeah it was...lying on the counter, and I thought it could be a...clue...but um..."

With each word, Sky begins to recognize the breach of privacy he had committed and how weak of an excuse he really had to snoop on a clearly personal letter. Even if it felt justified at the time. It's his turn to wince guiltily. "Yeah no that...sounds pretty bad actually."

Dream doesn't react, gazing back vacantly in a way she's never done before. It makes him retract a hoof, an uncomfortable knot forming in his stomach. "...Dream?"

She inhales, almost painstakingly slow and deep. The breath is held for a few seconds longer.

Then, after an exhale that's just as prolonged, the smallest smile ghosts across her muzzle.

"I see. You were worried and it just kind of happened. Right? I'm the one who left it out and created this whole mess. So really, it's my own fault."

What? Sky insistently shakes his head. "No way, it's your house. I should've held off...I'm sorry."

Dream reaches out to touch his shoulder, smiling sweetly. "Apology accepted! What's done is done, eh~?"

Uncertainty lingers despite himself; to think he managed to elicit that response, out of Dream, which made it undeniably that much more nervewracking. Regardless, Skychaser wills himself to relax.

How Dream can consistently be that quick to forgive will remain out of his realm of understanding. Good thing, too...he didn't think he could handle impairing one of his most cherished friendships all because of his own ever-present idiocy.

"...can I ask...??"

Sky's a little dubious on where to put his footing down from here, but he trusts Dream enough to be forthright with him about where her lines lie. Thankfully the corners of the mare's eyes crinkle back cordially.

"Yes, Sky?" she invites.

"...does that mean you're like that one guy?" He leans back in, side-mumbling to her. "Star Whirl the Bearded or whatever-"

Dream laughs, loud and hearty. "OH, heavens no! Starswirl was an arcane prodigy. I'm nothing like that." Dream Flow turns away from Sky to walk towards her front door. Curious, Skychaser follows after her. "In fact, despite what that letter claims, I'm not a Wizard."

"What?" Sky laughs out, shooting the back of her head a doubtful raise of his brow. "But they gave you-"

She smiles back at him over her shoulder, serenely closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"I'm not a Wizard. Being a Wizard suggests that I'm some grand expert who plays with different fields of magic for a living! I'm just an Emotion Counselor who happens to have some extra prior study on the side." For some reason she begins to glide an absentminded hoof against the carved wood of the doorframe. "Reinsford legally naming me their pet Wizard doesn't change that."

...pet? "Now excuse me for a second!" Dream says, aiming her horn towards the entrance. "I really need to reset this before the mental buzzing gives me a headache."

Her horn illuminates - an odd mismatch of bright blue with tinges of her magic's usual orange - and Skychaser gapes as the unassuming decorative markings carved into the door's wooden frame begin to light up brightly, one by one, until it's covered with these glowing elaborate lines and shapes completely unfamiliar to the pegasus. Dream turns back to him, coaxing him with a nudge of her head towards the display.

"If you don't mind, Skychaser, could you please touch one of these runes? If I add in your magic signature, we won't have to worry about another silly mishap."

Sky has literally no idea what any of that means. But Dream looks composed and attentive, so he follows her instructions. This "rune" he touches brightens, casting a warm halo of white light around his hoof. Then it all fades away, dimming the room back to just Dreamaria's light spell.

He glimpses at the unicorn and takes in the unexpectedly soft way she's looking at him.

"...thank you for trusting me." She expresses with warmth, placing a hoof over her chest in some form of relief.

"I mean yeah, always, but that was...?"

Dream perks up. There's a playfulness to her demeanor as she casually shrugs.

"A magical alarm. Just in casies. You activated my runes when you walked in," she giggles. "That's what alerted me and woke me up! But now that I've included you into the formula, you're my trusted exception. No more false alarms if something like this manages to happen again."

Okay. Sky's mind is officially boggled.

"Wait, so you're over here trying to convince me that you're NOT a Wizard-" He gestures incredulously at the door. "But you can do crazy shit like that?!"

Her ears twitch back, enough to catch his attention. Just like that, she's back to averting her gaze.

"Ah...this isn't as complicated as it looks, actually!" Dream defends cheerfully, strain returning to the smile she's wearing. "The initial set up was more tedious if anything. But I appreciate the compliment!"

With that, she strides away from the front door and back into the house, presumably towards her kitchen. However, her attitude regarding the subject bugs him. It's not like he knows much about unicorn history and titles and whatnot, but still...

"I thought being called a Wizard would be like...the highest honor for a unicorn or something." He scratches his head, a little embarrassed over his own lack of knowledge. "So I guess I'm not getting why you're..."

"Being called a wizard is a compliment to a unicorn's abilities." Dream supplies for him, slowing her gait to a halt. She turns her head without facing him, choosing to speak into the air instead. "Being named a Wizard is different...just something silly they began labeling me one day." More jovial laughter shakes her shoulders. "It was a little much! So Ponyville became my home of choice."

Despite her light-hearted, almost whimsical tone, Sky's ability to read body language doesn't fail him. He sees tension retake her frame.

"So you don't want to be one." Sky notes with a frown, eyebrows pulled back. Hooves clacking against the hardwood floor, he stops just beside her to brush a soothing wing against her shoulder; something he realizes he's never had to do, because comfort has only ever been given the other way around. "Too much pressure?" He prompts quietly.

Dream Flow is staring off, a distant look on her face. There's a slight shift to her jaw.

"I...don't have time to..."

She's deep in thought. Contemplative. Choosing her words carefully as she lowers her head to one side.

"...humor their fantasy of me."

A tense silence follows, along with a creeping feeling of personal familiarity. Sky tries to work a response through his mind, but he doesn't get enough time to when Dream's gently pushing his wing away and beaming up at him. "But never mind that. This weather must be doing things to me. It's not like me to put a damper on the mood! I've never been the biggest fan of rain."

"It's not a damper..." Sky tries, because really, when has Dream ever opened up to him like this? It's never even crossed his mind that she even had things to open up about, as stupid as that was.

But it's clear to him that Dream's finished, with the way she holds up a hoof and how the curve of her lips eases. "I wouldn't want anypony getting the wrong idea about me here either, actually. So I hope we can keep this between us? No more ‘Dream the Magical Wizard'?"

Dream drops her pitch a few decimals just to exaggerate the title, and it's so out of the blue that it wins her a short laugh from him. "Of course." Sky answers without hesitation. If she's shared all she's willing to, enough to return to her usual self, he won't push it. That's how she's always been when it came to him, after all. "You're just 'Dreamers the Dork" to me."

A grin breaks across Dream's face at that. "I like that better, actually."

"Ooooh no, don't say that, or else I'll start greeting you like that. Everywhere we go."

Dream giggles and continues her trek to the kitchen with Sky in tow. He now sees that she's heading towards that little area directly beneath her stairway; a side room to her kitchen used for her laundry appliances.

...memory swears that the folding doors to this room were closed earlier.

"Okay, let's fix this..." she hums and steps into the crowded space, leaving Sky standing at the threshold. He never identified it until now, writing it off as some random metallic plate on the back wall, but Dream Flow snaps it open and reveals it to be a door to a breaker box.

Confused, he's about to stop what should've been a futile attempt at bringing back power, but just like that, Dream flicks the top-most switch and the house comes back to life around him. Light refills the room, the microwave lets out a beep of relief, and Sky meanwhile is whipping his head back and forth between the main room and Dream herself.

"Wait, I thought the storm took out the power, how did you??"

"Oh, no." Dream grins sheepishly, gesturing towards the circuit breaker behind her. "That was all me."

Oh, how the surprises never cease with her. When did she even get downstairs to pull this stunt on him?

Well, she could teleport. But even that made noise. How he never heard her even once is-

Oh. Thunder.

"This was...one elaborate plan, Dream."

"That's true. But when you've never lived alone before, you sort of...end up a little paranoid." Dream rubs her foreleg shyly. "I saw lights on downstairs, sensed someone I couldn't even see walking around, and had no clue what they wanted. Naturally I assumed a break-in, so I took the necessary precautions to keep safe and take action."

If Sky didn't feel bad earlier, he's certainly feeling it now.

"Damn...didn't mean to scare ya, sis."

"That goes for two of us..." Dream Flow sighs dramatically. "Causing fear in you...I'd never wish for that again."

"Hey, I'm just glad it wasn't anything paranormal!" Sky exclaims, backing up to let Dream join him in the actual kitchen. When she does, though, she turns her head towards her appliances.

"...oh. Well this is embarrassing." She says, looking straight at one of her sticky notes. "These were meant to be private, but wow does this explain why my 'intruder' was so entertained by my kitchen."

Skychaser snickers. "Hey, I for one appreciated your wise words. I think it's cute that you're messing around with affirmations yourself."

Speaking of...that reminds him.

"I was wondering, Dream," Sky motions his head back towards the very space their face-off had played out. "What's that room by the stairs? I thought it was a coat closet, but..."

He trails off, wondering if Dream will catch on.

"Oh, that? That's just my private study! I've stored a bunch of very personal memories from Reinsford in there." She smiles. "I take it you read my note. It's basically a little reminder for myself to keep moving forward."

Ah. Move on from a town of expectations? That made enough sense to him. And he sure was glad all of the wild threads tonight were finally ending with answers.

"And like everything else, I can only guess that creepy orange glow was you too?" he teases. "I only got a glimpse, but it definitely was a distraction before everything broke loose."

Dream doesn't say anything at first, as if waiting for him to continue or deliver some punch line. When he doesn't elaborate she gives him an inquiring eyebrow raise and a tilt of her head. "Wait, what glow?"

Sky stops. Just in case, he searches Dream's face, but she looks sincerely clueless.

"The...one inside the study?" He provides, hoping for any sign of recognition. "Something was glowing, but it was faint and I couldn't see anything."

Dream looks taken aback. Eyes darting sharply towards the door in question, she gives it one disbelieving look.

"'Glowing'...?" she whispers breathily, and the goosebumps that had long faded away are now returning to Skychaser's pelt. He blanches.

"Oh Gods it wasn't you..." Sky tugs at his hair and makes some sort of makeshift curtain to hide half of his face behind. "Oh Gods, what was that then?!"

Dream's multi-colored orbs snap back to him. "A-ah! Well-" her voice carries a slight tremor, one she catches and visibly swallows down (as if that'll hide how she's just as freaked out as he is, she's not fooling him). Then she laughs it off, giving him a playful grin. "It's probably not ghosts?"

"Probably?!"

"It's more likely some old runic project of mine! Responding to the electrical energy in the storm." She waves her hoof towards the ceiling. On cue, a rumble of thunder reaches them. "Elemental conversion and all!"

"Lady, I still don't get your magic talk, but if you say so..." He heaves out a breath. "Anything but ghosts...or dead bodies."

Dream gives him a quizzical look at that last comment, but apparently decides against asking. "Well hey! You know what'll lighten the mood?" Dream claps her hooves together, eyes glittering now. "The storm won't stop for another hour or two. So it's time for me to begin making it up to you, starting with a movie night! I still have popcorn in the cupboard and plenty of soda~"

Sky squints at her from behind his mane-wall.

"...'Dogs Don't Dance'?"

"A classic." Dream nods sagely.

"And you'll restock your dang empty freezer first thing?"

"Whoops...don't worry! I'll stop slacking and do that tomorrow~"

Skychaser carries himself to the DVD storage shelf her television sits on. It's thankfully on the literal opposite side of the room from Dream's private study, a place he's sure he'll now associate with tension and spooks after the events of the day. Keeping away is proobably for the best, especially right now. Because reassured or not, the pegasus doesn't think he'll be completely shaking off his jitters tonight. A scary movie would probably do him in at this point.

Dream must be experiencing something similar, because after tapping the popcorn setting on her microwave, he sees her lean against the counter and restlessly gaze off towards that very door behind him. Warding off any surprise demons with her magic stare, he hopes.

But enough jokes. He leaves Dream to it, turning his full undivided attention on the vital task of sifting through DVD cases and finding his favorite comfort movie of jiving animated dogs. They both probably need it.

_________________________________________________________ This...this is a dense chapter and I'm kind of living.

I'm so curious to know what theories and thoughts people have drawn from it, so don’t be afraid to hyper-analyze. Nothing brings me greater joy... I recently fell in love with a few different writing styles and decided to play around with it myself here! I had a lot of fun with it, HEHEH. These probably constitute a whole separate lore upload, but for now, below will be a list of headcanons on Wizards in Destinyverse! For those interested!

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

Wizard/Sorcerer/Sorceress are all synonymous and are used based on preference. “Wizard” is the go-to gender-neutral term of the three.

The title of “Wizard” has altered throughout time. In pre-Equestrian days, when the Unicorns were all competing to understand magic and develop their power and prestige, the original Unicorn Royal Family were quick to employ the most powerful and innovative mages as advisors. These were the first Wizards - they were gifted high societal status and became the first nobles, whose wealthy descendants still live in the uppercrust of Canterlot to this day.

Thereafter, Wizardry became a profession that certified one’s expertise and allowed a unicorn to work alongside the most prestigious spellcasters and researchers (sometimes working for the crown, but not always). Aspiring Wizards then only earned their own title if they were lucky enough to have their talents acknowledged by the royal family (in the special case of the mighty prodigy Starswirl himself), or by the authority of an existing Wizard (ie. the sorcerer Clover the Clever, first student of Starswirl the Bearded).

After the three pony tribes integrated into one society (and the Unicorn Royal Family abdicated for the reign of Celestia and Luna), unicorns stepped up in villages all across Equestria to offer magical consultation and arcane services to their fellow ponies. From time to time, an especially studied specialist with a wide range of knowledge would prove their skill or accomplish an incredible feat; thus began the practice of local governments certifying their very own Village Wizard for townsfolk to go to for any magical needs. Not all Village Wizards dedicated themselves to one singular town; in fact, it was considered an honor for a village’s Wizard to proudly represent their town and aid others across Equestria.

The decline of spellcrafting and spellcasting over the centuries has led to Wizards being few and far between. The desire to pass down arcane knowledge still exists, as seen with Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns; so these days, only those with a thirst for knowledge (or even rarer, the desire to pursue arcane advancement) study magic. Even fewer who graduate Celestia's school have gone on to become Wizards, either becoming professors at the princess' school or private tutors of upper-class Canterlot.

The modern Wizard is now defined as a certified practitioner of multiple fields of magic who is consulted for arcane services and/or researches for the sake of arcane advancement. Famous present day Wizards include!

Mage Meadowbrook and Mistmane (both once designated sorceresses of their respective villages). Meadowbrook was the very first non-unicorn to become a mage, and then named Sorceress for her potion-making and item-enchantments.

Starlight Glimmer (sorceress; professor at Twilight’s School of Friendship and occasional aid for Uni-Tech)

Sunset Shimmer (sorceress; royal scientist; founder of Uni-Tech who works for societal advancements in magitech)

Sunburst escapes the definition by a thin hair, due to not being an actual spellcaster or crafter. But he is a valuable magic advisor with his keen mind, and a proud member of Uni-Tech.

#mlp #mlp art #mlp oc #My Little Pony #Skychaser #Dreamaria Flow #destinyverse #story

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