#I had a good day today I guess that’s why I conjured this so fast

[blobitech]

HI MERRY CHRISTMAS FOR THE 10 BILLIONTH TIME <33333

[baeddel]

Please. Please can you tell me what a baeddel is and why people (terfs?) used it in a derogatory manner on this website for a hot minute but now no one ever uses it at all

you asked for it, fucker

[2k words; philology and drama]

baeddel is an Old English word. i have no idea where it actually occurs in the Old English written corpus, but it occurs in a few placenames. its diminuitive form, baedling, is much better documented. it appears in the (untranslated) Canons of Theodore, a penitential handbook, a sort of guidebook for priests offering advice on what penances should be recommended for which sins. in a passage devoted to sexual transgressions it gives the penances suggested for a man who sleeps with a woman, a man who sleeps with another man, and then a man who sleeps with a baedling. so you have this construction of a baedling as something other than a man or a woman. and then it gives the penance for a baedling who sleeps with another baedling (a ludicrous one-year fast). then, by way of an explaination, Theodore delivers us one of the most enigmatic phrases in the Old English corpus: "for she is soft, like an adulturess."

the -ling suffix in baedling is masculine. but Theodore uses feminine pronouns and suffixes to describe baedlings. as we said, it's also used separately from male and female. but it's also used separately from their words for intersex and it never appears in this context. all of this means that you have this word that denotes a subject who is, as Christopher Monk put it, "of problematic gender." interested historians have typically interpreted it as referring to some category of homosexual male, such as Wayne R. Dines in his two-volume Encyclopedia of Homosexuality who discusses it in the context of an Old English glossary which works a bit like an Old English-Latin dictionary, giving Old English words and their Latin counterparts. the Latin words the Anglo-Saxon lexicographer chose to correspond with baedling were effeminatus and mollis, and Lang concludes that it refers to an "effeminate homosexual" (pg 60, Anglo Saxon). this same glossary gives as an Old English synonym the word waepenwifstere which literally means "woman with a penis," and which Dines gives the approximate translation (hold on tight) male wife.

R. D. Fulk, a philologist and medievalist, made a separate analysis of the term in his study on the Canons of Theodore 'Male Homoeroticism in the Old English Canons of Theodore', collected in Sex and Sexuality in Medieval England, 2004. he analysed it as a 'sexual category' (sexual as in sexuality), owing to the context of sexual transgressions in the Canons. he decides that it refers to a man who bottoms in sexual relationships with another man. i don't have the article on hand so i'm not sure what his reasoning was, but this seems obviously inadequate given what we know from the glossary described by Dines. Latin has a word for bottom, pathica, and the lexicographer did not use this in their translation, preferring words that emphasized the baedling's femininity like effeminatus, and doesn't address the sexual context at all. Dines, however, only reading this glossary, seems to decide that it refers to a type of male homosexual too hastily, considering the Canons explicitly treat them separately. both Dines and Fulk immediately reduce the baedling to a subcategory of homosexual when neither of the sources to hand actually do so themselves.

by now it should be obvious why, seven or so years ago, we interpreted it as an equivalent to trans woman. I mean come on - a woman with a penis! these days I tend to add a bit of a caution to this understanding, which is that trans woman is the translation of baedling which seems most adequate to us, just as baedling was the translation of effeminatus that seemed most adequate to our lexicographer. but the term cannot translate perfectly; its sense was derived from some minimal context; a legal context, a doctrinal context, and so forth... the way Anglo-Saxons understood sex/gender is complicated but it has been argued that they had a 'one sex model' and didn't regard men and women as biologically separate types, which is obviously quite different from the sexual model accepted today; in any case they didn't have access to the karyotype and so on. the basic categories they used to understand gender and sexuality were different from ours. in particular, Hirschfield et al. should be understood as a particularly revolutionary moment in the genealogy of transsexuality; the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft essentially invented the concept of the 'sex change', the 'transition', conceived as a biological passage from one sex to the other. even in other contexts where (forgive me) #girlslikeus changed their bodies in some way, like the castration of the priestesses of Cybele, or those belonging to the various historical societies which we believe used premarin for feminization [disputed; see this post], there is no record that they were ever considered men at any stage or had some kind of male biology that preceded their 'gender identity.' the concept of the trans woman requires the minimal context of the coercive assignment at birth and its subsequent (civil and bio-technological) rejection. i have never encountered evidence that this has ever been true in any previous society. nonetheless, these societies still had gendered relations, and essentially wherever we find these gendered relations we also find some subject which is omitted or for whom it has been necessary to note exceptions. what is of chief interest to us is not so much that there was such a subject here or there in history (and whatever propagandistic uses this fact might have), but understanding why these regularities exist.

a very parsimonious explanation is that gender is a biological reality, and there is some particular biological subject which a whole host of words have been conjured to denote. if this were the case then we would expect that, no matter what gender/sexual system we encounter in a given society, it will inevitably find some linguistic expression. if, like me, you find this idea revolting, then you should busy yourself trying to come up with an alternative explanation which is not just plausible, but more plausible. my best guesses are outside the scope of this answer...

anyway, all of this must be very interesting to the five or six people invested in the confluence of philology and gender studies. but why on earth did it become so widely used, in so many strange and unusual contexts, in the 2010s? we're very sorry, but yes, it's our fault. you see apart from all of this, there is also a little piece of information which goes along with the word baeddel, which is that it's the root of the Modern English word bad. by way of, no less, the word baedan, 'to defile'. how this defiled historical subject came to bear responsibility for everything bad to English-speakers doesn't seem to be known from linguistic evidence. however, it makes for a very pithy little remark on transmisogyny. my dear friend [REDACTED] made a playful little post making this point and, good Lord, had we only known...

it went like this. its such a funny little idea that we all start changing our urls to include the word baeddel. in those days it was common to make puns with your url (we always did halloween and christmas ones); i was baeddelaire, a play on the French poet Baudelaire. while we all still had these urls a series of events which everyone would like to forget happened, and we became Enemies of Everyone in the Whole World. because of the url thing people started to call us "the baeddels." then there was "a cult" called "the baeddels" and so forth. this cult had various infamies attatched to it and a constellation of indefensible political positions. ultimately we faced a metric fucking shit ton of harassment, including, for some of my friends, really serious and bad irl harassment that had long-term bad awful consequences relating to stable housing and physical safety and i basically never want to talk about that part of my life ever again. and i never have to, because i've come to realize that for most people, when they use the word baeddel, they don't know about that stuff. it doesn't mean that anymore.

so what does it mean? you'll see it in a few contexts. TERFs do use it, as you guessed. i am not quite sure what they really mean by it and how it differs from other TERF barbs. i think being a baeddel invovles being politically active or at least having a political consciousness, but in a way thats distinct from just any 'TRA' or trans activist. so perhaps 'militant' trans women, but perhaps also just any trans woman with any opinions at all. how this was transmitted from tumblr/west coast tranny drama to TERF vocabulary i have no idea. but you will also find - or, could have found a few years ago - i would say 'copycat' groups who didn't know us or what we believed but heard the rumours, and established their own (generously) organizations (usually facebook groups) dedicated to putting those principles into practice. they considered themselves trans lesbian separatists and did things like doxx and harass trans women who dated cafabs. if you don't know about this, yes, there really were such groups. they mostly collapsed and disappeared because they were evildoers who based their ideology on a caricature. i knew a black trans woman who was treated very badly by one of these groups, for predictable reasons. so long-time readers: if you see people talking about their bad experiences with 'baeddels', you can't necessarily relate it to the 2014 context and assume they're carrying around old baggage. there are other dreams in the nightmare.

the most common way you'll see it today, in my experience, is in this form: people will say that it was a "slur" for trans women. they might bring up that it's the root of the word bad, and they might even think that you shouldn't use the word bad because of it, or that you shouldn't use the word baeddel because it's a slur. all of this is a silly game of internet telephone and not worth addressing. except to say that it's by no means clear that baeddel, or baedling, were slurs, or even insulting at all. while Theodore doesn't provide us with a description of how we can have sex with a baedling without sinning, and it may be the case that any sexual relations with a baedling was considered sinful, sexuality-based transgressions were not taken all that seriously in those days. there was a period where homosexuality within the Church was almost sanctioned, and it wasn't until much later that homosexuality became so harshly proscribed, to the extent that it was thought to represent a threat to society, etc. and as i mentioned, there are places in England named after baedlings. there is a little parish near Kent which is called Badlesmere, Baeddel's Lake, which was recorded in the Anglo-Saxon Domesday Book (as having a lord, a handful of villagers and a few slaves; perhaps only one or two households). it's not unheard of, but i just don't know very many places called Faggot Town or some such. it's possible that baedlings had some role in Anglo-Saxon society which we are not aware of; it could even have been a prestigious one, as it was in other societies. there is just no evidence other than a couple of passing references in the literature and we'll probably never have a complete picture.

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker x alkemi Reader - Strange Truths

A/n: This was so fun to do and me being an Alkemi really was happy with this request! Thank you! I'm so sorry it took so long though!

Warnings: None? Needles?

Request: ok ok so i have an idea- a kaz brekker x alkemi reader where kaz accidentally drinks one of the reader's newest chemical (prolly cause jesper slipped it into his drink) and it makes him super flustered and vv talkative and the reader has to keep him in their lab until they can finish the antidote and kaz tells the reader he likes them right after he takes the antidote so the reader realizes he's actually serious-

I do not own six of crows or shadow and bone or you!

Most people underestimated alkemi's but once they did it once they would not do it again. Kaz Brekker knew that alkemi's could just be as dangerous as a squaller all the way to a shadow or sun summoner if they were powerful enough. To be fair, very few were that powerful but most could kill you slowly and far worse than a heartrender so...

But you were a very powerful alkmei- one of the most powerful to ever live and that was why you are part of the crows. You can fight just fine, but the dregs had seemed to be getting very creative with their ways of killing to getting information and this was all thanks to you.

Though not all appreciated your talents.

Nina has grown up thinking that the alkemi's were weak was a part of those few, Inej just didn't understand you, Jesper understood but was still trying to come to terms with his own Grisha powers, Wylan thought you were amazing and Matthias was just flat out scared.

But that all changed when one day you poisoned a whole army.

Oh, Kaz was just... Happy? No one really knew, but sometimes he just seemed a bit more satisfied about how things were going with you around. Unfortunately for you, that meant he had to spend a bit more time around you trying to come up with more ideas. And that would have been just fine if it weren't for the fact that you were falling helplessly in love with Dirtyhands.

Ya, fuck.

Lately, you had been conjuring up something new in that lab of yours in the basement of the Slat. It was almost like a truth potion but not quite, it was to make it easier to get information out of its victims but not enough to notice.

Officially it was finished and you were going to go tell Kaz but you realized today everyone was going to be at the Crow Club. Just your luck that you hated socializing.

You sigh but you quickly grab the elixir and start running to the Club. Being late to a meeting was never really your foreté.

Finding finally the Crows even with the sea of people around you spot them when you meet Kaz's eyes. Of course, you had to meet his eyes. You go and sit down beside him as everyone had already decided on their drinks.

"Y/n's getting them this time since she's late!" Jesper grins in triumph as you just roll your eyes. It doesn't matter you guessed he was almost always going to be the one late so you figured it wouldn't matter if you had done it this one time. Besides, it would give the sharpshooter (and his boyfriend) a break for once.

Getting up from your seat you walk towards the bar and ask for everyone's drinks. He hands you them and you talk to the bartender as you walk back towards the group.

"I'm your waiter for one time only, don't get used to it."

Kaz just clears his throat and starts talking about a plan that's really in reality just a decoy because of Inej's intel there would be Dime Lion spies in the Crow Club today.

And why not take that to your advantage?

Suddenly Kaz stops talking and you lift an eyebrow at him. He just shakes his head and the others just shrug their shoulders and start a different conversation.

For a bit, you do engage in conversation with the other Crows but Kaz just seemed different? Like he was trying not to burst out talking or something?

"Dirtyhands, you good?"

Instantly his face flushed a bright pink and he stutters out;

"Ya-ya fine. Totally fine, everything's good. Go back to whatever I guess. Just leave me alone and do your work you shouldn't have even asked, so can you please-" He cut himself off and flushed (what you didn't even know was possible) red even brighter.

What the- You always called Kaz Dirtyhands as more as a nickname than a mean term almost like a term of endearment. Although he didn't know that he never had even blinked when you used the little nickname more than necessary so why was he now?

Also to add to that fact, was that you really never called him Kaz. It was mostly to keep yourself in check so you didn't get used to him too much. It was more like reminding yourself that you both weren't on a first-name basis even if you already were.

Narrowing your eyes, you can see that his pupils are slightly dilated and that he's bitting down on his tongue really hard to stop himself from talking. This wasn't just Kaz Brekker flustered, there was something else going on here. And you had to figure at fast before the Dime Lion spies did, or if they already had.

"Brekker, I need to you answer me honestly okay?" You lower your voice and you soften your tone like you would with your targets to get information out of them. You didn't like doing it, but it was the price to pay for his safety.

He just bobs his head up and down trying not to say anything.

"What have you ingested today?"

"Just the drink. Not anything else, being that I forg-" He cuts himself off from his whisper-rant covering his hand over his mouth.

"You haven't eaten today!" Accidently you raise your voice and the anger and concern shine through your usual stone-cold tone.

Kaz widens his eyes and gives you a look to shut the fuck up. He was still the Bastard of The Barrel after all.

Wait, now that you think about it...

You reach into your pocket for your newly brewed elixir and when you take it out it almost confirms it for you.

The lid is open.

Oh, fuck maybe it's better not to cure Kaz because you might just die after this.

It all made sense now though; talkative, flustered, overused & exaggerated facial expressions, looseness of the tongue. Those were all symptoms and you hadn't even noticed.

Well... At least you knew it worked and it was effective. Very effective... Fucking hell Kaz really is going to kill you now.

Grabbing onto his coat sleeve (being extra careful not to touch his skin) you drag him out of the crow club away from the prying eyes of everyone and the shouts of 'what the hell!' From your friends.

Quickly you drag him to the basement of the Slat where all your potions, bombs, machines, elixirs, poisons and most importantly supplies are.

"You can sit there." You point at a chair in the back of the room that basically had a view of everything.

"You better make me an antidote or I swear to-"

You cut him off before he says something he'll regret later. "Go sit your ass down Dirtyhands and let the real Grisha do their magic."

He flushes again and walks over to the chair but not without muttering under his breath how Grisha cannot do magic. And how their abilities work and etc.

By the saints! Now you really didn't want to reverse that chemical elixir, he just sounded really cute. But who the fuck are you kidding? This is Kaz Brekker we're talking about and you just thought of him as cute.

Welp, this is getting interesting.

Quickly you mix some ingredients together trying really hard to go as swift as you can. No one could see Brekker like this it would kill his reputation.

You look down at the antidote and you curse under your breath. This was going to need a needle. Oh fuck, you might as well just die right there.

Hurrying over to your cabinet you quickly go through the vials wondering what size you would need till you found the perfect one. It wasn't very big, and because it was fabrikator made he wouldn't even feel a pinch. But at the same time, it would hold your elixir even if it was a very tiny vial.

"Brekker, your gonna have to put your arm up for me."

You don't turn around knowing that this probably could be your death right here in your lab. At least Kaz Brekker will kill you so at least that's memorable. You sigh, Kaz Brekkers Alkemi was killed by Dirtyhands himself.

"Why?" Most of the time Kaz would just raise his eyebrow at you but because of the fun chemicals that he had in his body that was not the case.

"You might want to roll up your sleeve as well." You say nervously turning around so the needle was visible.

"Because I'm going to have to use a syringe."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!"

You slowly walk over and you shake your head.

"Sleeves up."

Kas just grumbles while putting his sleeves up you can tell he's uncomfortable. Now looking back at it you didn't really know how many barrel rats have had needles before, and if they did it probably wasn't good.

"What's your favourite colour?"

He snaps his eyes to meet yours and that's the moment you press the needle in his skin.

As you thought before he didn't flinch but he looked like he wanted to kill you with that stare but his eyes seem to soften with your worried stance.

"It didn't hurt did it?"

Kaz just shakes his head and you sigh in relief. "There shouldn't be any after-effects but I might just check in to see just in case."

He's almost out the door when he stops just at the entrance.

"Your eyes."

You whip your head around to meet his dark eyes.

"What?"

Slowly he comes away from the door frame advancing on you and he shakily takes off a glove and presses his hand against your cheek.

"You asked me what my favourite colour was."

You have convinced yourself that at this moment you have stopped breathing. Nothing else matters but you two of you in this room. The feeling of his hand on your cheek sends butterflies everywhere in you. And you can't stop to think about how beautiful and terrifying those brown nearly black eyes are.

"Boss!" There's a shout from upstairs and he quickly pulls away putting his glove back on.

"So I'll be seeing you around Brekker?"

He rolls his eyes. "You know you can call me Kaz right?"

You laugh as you herd him through the door knowing that he has business to attend to.

"But I think you much prefer when I call you Dirtyhands."

The blush spreads across his cheeks albeit not as strong this time but at least you know it's not from one of your elixirs.

"Only you Y/n only you."

Words 1799

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover

[reidyoulikeabook]

Sometimes You Just Don’t Know the Answer

4 times you don’t know the answer, and the 1 time you do

This is the 2nd part to Personal Google! (You don’t have to read it to understand this, but it exists if you want to).

Ship: BAU!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: You’d call yourself a pretty educated individual, and most people wouldn’t argue with that, given that you’re a member of the BAU at Quantico. There’s just something about your best friend Spencer Reid that gets you all tongue tied.

Warnings: Mentions of cases and case-typical violence, mentions of alcohol, Spencer and Reader being idiots again.

Word count: 3k

A/N: The feedback (in asks and the tag reblogs) for Personal Google was so lovely and encouraging and I am very grateful for it! I only made this account a few days ago and I’m already so glad I did :) I hope this is a satisfactory second part and, requests are open!

(This is the Reid I’m imagining here)

“What is up with you and Reid?” Emily’s volume is unmoderated at the best of times but right now it’s like she’s trying to alert the entirety of Virginia to your dating woes.

Dating woes might be a stretch, actually. Somehow, just her implication that something is happening between you and Spencer (even though it isn’t, unless you count two exhausted idiots falling asleep on each other and being too bashful to ever mention it again), is enough to get you feeling uncharacteristically shy.

“Nothing,” you shrug, “Well. I don’t know, honestly, nothing I guess? We haven’t spoken about that night.”

Emily’s eyes rake over you, and you can tell she’s waiting for you to continue.

“There’s nothing!” you object, “We just, it was accidental, we fell asleep because we were watching a documentary and we were tired and neither of us fell asleep on purpose.”

She laughs, dry and amused, “At this rate, you’ll be lucky to have sorted things out before you’re 50.”

You scowl, but it’s only because you know she’s right.

***

You don’t have much time to think about your situation with Spencer for a few weeks, considering the rate at which the cases come rolling in. This newest one arrives within about two days of the last one you’d just wrapped up. It’s actually kind of rude, you’ve decided, that the serial killers of America have decided to deny you two weekends in a row.

You’re briefed on the case quickly: four women have gone missing over the past 7 months from a small town in Ohio. There’s no distinct pattern that can be discerned among the victims, the oldest is 60 and white, the youngest is 23 and Asian-American. However, the first three have been found dead in the past two weeks, all within a mile of each other and all killed with the same MO: ligature strangulation.

“So we have no idea how he’s choosing them,” you say.

“No,” Hotch replies, with a sigh.

Meaning that this is probably going to take a while. Spencer senses the way you tense up a little as you absorb that fact. So he goes out of his way to sit next to you on the plane. Once the discussion about the case is done, he nudges you gently, “Did you bring a book?”

You shake your head, “I finished the one in my go-bag. Didn’t have a chance to replace it.”

“Would you like to read this with me?”

You place your hand on his wrist, gently turning it so you can see the cover, “Spencer this is written in Greek.”

“I can translate,” he says.

You move closer to him then, your head resting just against his plane seat and your chin almost jutting against his shoulder.

“Is this okay?”

He nods. The remaining 45 minutes of the flight are spent with him reading to you softly, adding in his own thoughts as he translates and sometimes going off on little tangents. By the time you land you’ve entirely forgotten about your ire with the case. You’re focused only on the characters he introduces you to, who are clearly in love even if they’re too stupid to see it, and the way his nose crinkles a little when he reaches a word with no direct English translation.

Whhat you don’t realise, is that you end up folding into him: head pressed against his chest. Somehow, neither of you notice how you naturally gravitate towards each other. Some pair of profilers.

--

Hotch sends you in different cars to the precinct, and you’re soon reminded of your frustration as you’re caught up in the hub-a-bub of the case. It’s not until you’re leaving the station, after a long and relatively fruitless briefing with the medical examiners and local PD, that you even have time to acknowledge Spencer properly again.

And even then, it’s only when Hotch says.

"You'll be sharing a room with Reid, alright?"

He’s only really asking as a formality. Nobody questions Hotch’s assignments for them. So why, then, do you feel yourself flush a little.

Why then, do you feel so embarassed replying, “Alright.”

***

There was nothing much to be nervous about with sharing a room, as it so happened. The past day and a half had been a whirlwind since the unsub had snatched a fifth victim. You’d been sleeping in shifts, making sure that some of you were awake at all times to keep working.

You were working on the geographical profile with Spencer, and had taken to driving around to look for landmarks at night, when there was nothing much else to do. There were maps but sometimes it helped just to get things embedded in your brain. And now, at 4am, you’re bursting into the conference room occupied by Spencer and Rossi, because you might just have got something.

"I have an idea,” you say, and before anybody can even respond you’re scribbling hurriedly on the whiteboard.

“Slow down kiddo,” Rossi laughs.

“Sorry I’m just,” you cut yourself off, slightly flustered and tapping your foot with frustration as you try to put the last pieces of it together, “Diana Matthews.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds.

“She was the one who lived on Lakefield right?” Rossi asks.

Annoyingly, you can’t remember off rote. Spencer sees the pinch of frustration in your brow. He senses that you’re heading for the case file.

So, he answers, “Yeah 38 Lakefield Drive.”

Smiling gratefully at him, you breathe a sigh of relief, “There’s three different stores in the area for this local electronic repair company, Gladston Digital, in this area. Two of them aren’t accounted for on the maps because these are from last year, and one of the ones on Google is pinned to the wrong street, there are two Minister Avenues and one’s on the complete opposite side of town.”

Denoting the map with annotations as you go, you continue, “All of the victims had residences within a mile of one of the three stores. And we interviewed the area manager, Paul something, he manages all three stores. He came to speak to me and Hotch while we were scoping the area.”

“Inserting himself into the investigation,” Rossi notes, “Fits the profile. A stalker like that would want to remain an illusion of control.”

“I just need to get Garcia on the phone to see if it checks out.”

Spencer just watches, slightly in awe, as you make the phone call to Garcia. She manages to cross-reference bank statements and emails, showing that all five of the victims had taken something of theirs in for repair sometime in the year before their disappearance. And he feels something in his gut. Pride? Maybe. That’s certainly a part of it.

But there’s something else in there too. Your eyes meet his, with a flicker of recognition. He realises what it is then: marvel. Your brain works so fast, and that’s not novel to him, he knows you’re intelligent but there’s just something about how fast you manage to put it all together. You conjure something out of nothing, a link that he’d missed. And he’s reminded, again, that he has to try and keep up with you sometimes. He wonders if you know that.

Probably not, he thinks. You’re rambling down the phone and gesturing with your hands, in a way you may or may not have picked up from him, and all he can think is how you look so in your element. And beautiful.

He’s a little embarassed about how normal it feels for that last observation to pop into his head.

***

“To _____!” Prentiss cheers.

8pm has rolled around. Since your revelation 16 hours earlier, you managed to confirm your thinking, apprehend Paul Bader, and save the fifth victim. All in all, a pretty good days work. It’s not just down to you, but everyone’s singing your praises so loudly it’s making you a little embarassed.

Even Hotch sets a drink down in front of you, squeezing your shoulder, “Really good work today ____.”

Fair to say you’ve probably peaked there.

Spencer is sat to your left, sipping at a Mai Tai that you know is going to have him giggly in about an hours time.

“I wasn’t trying to keep you out before,” you tell him, “I was going to come and wake you up when I got back but you were in the conference room.”

He smiles, “I know. It was my shift to sleep.”

“Bet you’re paying for that now.”

“A little,” he chuckles, “It’s worth it.”

"I just didn’t want you to think I was hanging you out to dry. You know, to make myself look good,” you decide to press further: mostly just because the team has sung your praises and that kind of attention makes you shirk at the best of times. Let alone when you’re sat with the guy responsible for creating half the damn profile.

His eyebrows furrow. You worry for a minute about what he’s going to say, but then, “I would never think that about you. We’re a team.”

He squeezes your hand. Maybe that’s your favourite thing about Spencer, really. More than the fact he remembers to get your caffeine just how you like it, more than how gentle he is with just about everybody he encounters, more than his relentless enthusiasm for your questions about whatever pops into your mind. No, it’s his modesty. The way he doesn’t even think for a moment to be prideful or arrogant about his intelligence. He genuinely roots for you in every moment, you think.

“Are you okay?” he asks, “You seem a little..quiet.”

It wasn’t until he mentioned it that you realise you’d let your thoughts run away with you, “No. I’m good. Just thinking about how good of a teacher you are.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I think so. You’ve taught me. I didn’t know the first thing about geographical profiling when I got here two years ago. I could barely read a map,” you laugh, keeping your tone sincere, “You’re a really good teacher Spence. I feel like I learn so much from just being around you.”

“I often don’t give you much choice.”

You smile, “I wouldn’t want you to. Really. I’m always interested in everything you have to say. I think you know that. But I wanted to tell you anyway. So you’re sure.”

He’s incredibly grateful you get pulled into a conversation by Morgan, giving him a moment to process.

A lifetime of being insecure. Of feeling like nobody was interested in what he had to say but not being able to really control whether he said it anyway. All this time being insecure in himself, and you liked it. Complimented him on it, even. Considered him a teacher. He doesn’t think he could articulate, in any of the languages he speaks, the sense of peace that brings him.

-----

The Mai Tai’s do make him sleepy. Buzzed, but sleepy. After being bought rounds by Hotch, Morgan, and Spencer, you’re feeling exactly the same. It’s only 10:30pm by the time you decide to make your departure for the night. This is much to the chagrin of Emily, who lolls against Rossi’s side demanding that you stay.

“Some of us have been up since 4 this morning, breaking their backs to keep this country safe,” You tease, putting on a melodramatic air just for affect, “Besides, you’re going to regret this when you have to be up and back on the jet in the morning.”

“You will, especially since you still owe me that report,” Hotch teases, with a smile.

Emily rolls her eyes, “You two are no fun.”

She’s joking, goading you, but unfortunately for her you have a sleepy Spencer nuzzling against you which is a far more pressing matter to deal with.

“Come on Spence, let’s get you to bed,” You say, gently wiggling out from under him and offering him your hand.

He pouts at the momentary loss of contact. It’s subtle. You catch it though. He links his fingers through your own, holding your hand properly, and you try not to read into it too much. He’s tipsy. He’s tired.

Ignoring the deliberately obvious eyebrow-wiggling from Morgan, you make for the lift.

“You didn’t have to come to bed just for me,” Spencer says, “I feel bad for taking you away from the others. I’m not that drunk, I could get myself to bed.”

You shake your head, “I wanted to go to bed with you.”

His eyes snap to you, a grin playing on his lips.

“I mean, I wanted to go to bed. And we’re sharing a room. So I’m going to bed with you. As in we’re going to the place where bed is, together.”

He’s just enough tipsy to be confident enough to jest, “Sure.”

You roll your eyes, “You sound like Morgan.”

“What did Morgan say?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what Morgan always says whenever anybody goes off together.”

“That they’re having sex,” He giggles, tipsiness shining through again.

“Yes, Spence, that they’re having sex.”

“But we’re not.”

The elevator dings as you arrive at your floor, saving your brain from delving into the implications of what he’s just said. And whether that was a disappointed or netural tone.

He hasn’t let go of your hand. He walks to the door with you, still keeping your hand in his. It’s hard not to let yourself read into it now. How holding hands with him could be such a casual thing. Hard not to imagine walking through bookshops with him, one hand in yours and the other picking books off the shelf he thought you’d like. The domesticity of it sickens you.

Then he lets go to cross to the bed.

“Aren’t you gonna put your pyjama’s on?” You ask.

“I wasn’t gonna sleep yet,” he says, “I was gonna...”

He looks bashful, suddenly, self-consciously licking his lower lip, “I was gonna ask if maybe you wanted to watch something with me. You can pick. I always pick.”

“This an excuse to get me in bed with you again, Spence?” You tease, just past tipsy enough not to care that this is the first time you’ve even acknowledged that night.

"Yeah, the Pearl Harbour ruse doesn’t work twice,” he jokes.

You wish you could find the courage to tease him more. Unfortunately, the liquid courage seems to have run out, and the topic somehow feels too delicate to touch.. Instead, you change quickly into your pyjama’s. Together, you pick something to watch, settling down. You’re suddenly thankful for the single bed, the necessity to be cozied up against him as you watch. To feel his chest, every beat of his heart. You swear it’s beating fast. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

***

Just like last time, you wake up huddled against Spencer. Unlike last time, there’s no Emily banging the door down to drag you to the police station. No, it’s quiet.

You can’t see what time it is because there’s a Spencer between you and the clock. Your phone is in your back pocket but it’s hard to find any motivation whatsoever to move when you’re like this: face pressed into his chest, his head resting atop of yours so a single curl of his hair tickles your nose, his hand on your hip holding you against him.  

His eyelashes flutter, “Are you awake?”

“Yeah. I just woke up.”

He smiles, “Me too.”

“Looks like we did it again.”

“Looks like we did,” his voice is quiet.

“Do you want me to move? If I’m...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

His free hand comes up to your chin, tipping it so you’re looking him directly in the eyes. His pupils are dilated. In the dim light it’s hard to place the look on his face exactly. But it’s soft.

"C-Can I kiss you?” the question spills quickly from his lips, like he’s afraid he’ll change his mind if he doesn’t get it out fast, “I just. I don’t know if that’s what you want too, I’ve just really-”

"Kiss me, Spence. Please kiss me.”

The smile on his face would have made you fall in love with him, if you weren’t already. And then he kisses you. Barely. Your lips are just grazing against one anothers. You tilt yourself upwards, towards him, giving him a better angle. Then he really kisses you, capturing your lips in his. It’s sweet, it’s soft, it’s...it’s everything. It’s everything, how his hands tangle themselves tentatively in your hair, how he kisses you so deeply, drinking you in.

His hand cups your cheek, then he’s pulling back, just a tiny bit, to mumble against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

The only appropriate way you can think to verbalise your agreement, is closing the gap between your lips again. There’s an urgency to it this time. Your lips move quickly, passionately. He swipes his tongue across your lower lip and you let him in, your tongues delicately dancing together. He’s good. He’s good and you don’t even notice the morning breath or faint taste of rum, it’s just Spencer.

When you finally come apart, you’re out of breath.

“I didn’t think you’d ever do that,” you say, “I was worried I was reading this whole thing wrong.”

He frowns then, that little nose crinkle appearing again, “I thought I was too obvious.”

“So did I. Maybe it’s best if we don’t tell Hotch how bad we are at profiling each other. He might rethink his decision to take us on.”

He laughs, “Not being able to profile when somebody’s in love with you might be a cause for concern. There are several obvious phyical signs of love, including dilation of pupils when looking at the object of your affection, heart rate synchronisation.”

“How am I supposed to know if our heart rates have synchronised?”

He smiles. Pressing a finger to your lips, he dips his head in the small chasm between your two chests. In the silence, in the early morning quiet, in the absence of all distraction you can hear it. The steady thrum of your hearts, pounding away at identical paces. The sound that told you that some part of you had always known.

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Tagslist: @takeyourleap-of-faith​​ @sassiest-politician​​ (let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from this list)

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 5

Bakugo x Reader, Dabi x Reader

Words : 4804

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

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

It had been a few days since Bakugo had visited. Dabi was so torn between wanting to punish you for being a brat and praising you for finally walking. On one hand it was a law that you worked out every day. It was in writing and you had tried to tell him you weren’t going to do it.

Part of him knew he was only so worked up over it because it had happened in front of Bakugo. If it had happened any other day, he would have given you a quick spank and just thrown your ass in the pool anyways.

The look on your face had made it worth it though. To see that tenacious side of you, the one that looked like it was ready for a fight… Yeah, he could get used to seeing that look.

Then there was the aftercare of your little outburst. You had let him hold you all night. He didn’t know if that was intentional or if you had only reached for him in sleep out of instinct. He remembered how you had reached for Bakugo and it gave him a headache. For now, he chose to not make a big deal about it.

It had been a long day and you were ready to pass out. Dabi had taken the training wheels off and was starting to make you walk more and more on your own without his help. He was always quick to laugh when you fell on your ass with a taunt of, “You look like Shoto when he was a toddler. Don’t worry I didn’t help him either.” The only time he did help you, was to help you into the high barstool at the kitchen island. Making more jokes about you needing help getting into your highchair and asking if you needed him to feed you too.

You didn’t know if it was the fatigue or the teasing, but something had you in a foul mood. You flipped him off, ~I hate you~.

Dabi’s eyes softened in an almost annoyingly affectionate way, “No you don’t.” He handed you the bowl of ice cream you had begged for. “Good work today. I gave you an extra scoop.” He winked, took out his own spoon, and quickly stole a bite.

Your mouth hung open at his audacity. ~No! Wrong! Hate!~

He laughed loudly, “I said I gave you an extra scoop! You’re not gonna miss one bite!” He reached his spoon back out, “Just for that I’m gonna take another.”

You smacked his hand away and furrowed your eyebrows at him, ~Mine.~

He feigned shock, “I’m sorry… did you just… hit me?”

You stuck your tongue out at him and shoveled a huge bite of ice cream into your mouth. It was way too much and if you weren’t so intent on being a brat you would have laughed. Dabi however was in no laughing mood as he saw the melted ice cream dripping down your chin.

He reached out squished your cheeks together with one hand. He hovered over you, enjoying the height difference and absolutely losing it over the look of pure innocence in your eyes as the ice cream continued to slip past your lips. He leaned closer to you and whispered in a husky voice, “You’re making a mess… Now. Swallow.”

Your eyes connected with his and you obediently swallowed what was left of the ice cream. He swiped a thumb across your bottom lip to collect what was left before sucking into his mouth all the while keeping his eyes focused on yours.

You swear he was leaning in even closer when the loud clanging of your spoon hitting the table broke you apart.

He cleared his throat and pushed himself away from you. You had to focus really hard on not pouting. Why were you disappointed? Had you wanted him to kiss you? Or were you just horny again? This was a question you had been faced with a lot in your adult life, because as much as you hate to admit it… your quirk does make you a total horn dog. It’s been what? YEARS since you had good and proper sex.

You shuddered as you remembered back to the lab. You had sex there a few times… but… you couldn’t really say if it was any good on the account that you don’t remember most of it. What you did remember, you wish you didn’t. They hadn’t called it sex… they called it ‘research’, and boy where they a fan of their research.

Dabi lifted your chin to force you to look at him, “Hey where did you go just now?” He saw the tears pooling in your eyes and he felt a spike of panic at the thought the he was the cause of them. “Hey… hey I’m sorry. I take things too far sometimes.” He went to lower his hand but your gripped it and brought it back to your face. Needing his presence to anchor you to the present before you spiraled into memories of the past.

“Take a deep breath for me, okay. I need you to take a deep breath then I need you to hold it until I say so. Can you do that?” You hadn’t even realized your breathing had started to tighten until he said something. You nodded slowly as you tried to remember back to your hero training. You took a deep breath in through your nose. “Good girl. Now hold it and count to ten.” You did as he said before letting a shaky breath out of your mouth. “You’re doing great, just keep doing that. Is it okay if I pick you up?”

Your eyes widened. Did you want to be held? Or did you want to lock yourself in your room. You didn’t even know. You didn’t know what you wanted right now, what you needed. Would you find comfort in his embrace, or would you feel confined? So, you just stared back at him and shrugged.

“Law number one. I need a yes or no. You can do that. I know you can.” You gulped and nodded your head. He picked you up, but instead of picking you up bridal style like he usually did, he picked you up like he would a child. Wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

He walked you back to your room abandoning the rest of the ice cream to melt on the counter. You buried you face into his neck and you felt his fingers comb through your hair. He sat down on the bed and pulled you close to him. “I’ve had my fair share of anxiety attacks. They suck… ass. I get that. The only thing you can do is breath and try and clear you mind.” He continued to run his fingers through your hair, and you could feel your heartbeat start to slow down to match his. “So, uh… I guess I’ll try to distract you. I could tell you a story about me. Would you like that?”

You could already feel yourself starting to calm down, but you didn’t want to pass up on an opportunity to learn more about him, so you simply nodded and burrowed further into him.

You could feel him shift uncomfortably underneath you. “When I first got away from my family. I was just a dumb kid. I was angry and hell bent on proving to anyone who even looked my way that I was strong. Once I was running an errand for the league at a local market and I saw Shoto. It was after his accident, but his hair was a dead giveaway. He was there with Fuyumi, I think she was just trying to keep him busy.”

He leaned back and pulled you with him making the two of you more comfortable. “I saw his scar and was so sure that our dad did it. I was ready to hunt him down and kick his ass.” He sighed before letting out a small chuckle, “But then the squirt did the weirdest thing. It was like he was drawn to me. I looked nothing like the brother he knew. Black hair, scars, and staples, But he broke free of Fuyumi and ran straight towards me. Out of instinct I leaned down to pick him up, but he stopped right as he got to me. He put a hand up to my face and then to his own scar. He looked me square in the eyes and said ‘Ouch’ and then just ran away.”

You smiled, that definitely sounded like Todoroki. The more you thought about it, there were definitely some small similarities between the two brothers. Not that you’d mention that to either of them.

Dabi continued to talk and tell you stories until you eventually drifted off into dreams of young Dabi and what he would have been like. Your mind conjured up images of him in a UA uniform. Him competing in a sports festival. Him in a library studying for exams.

Unfortunately, your dreams didn’t last long. You woke a few hours later with a stabbing pain in your abdomen. You whimpered as you tried to roll over in an attempt to find a position that would alleviate the pain. Instead you rolled straight into the lean body of Dabi. Oh no. Dabi. You needed to get cleaned up before he woke up.

You tried to roll away from him, but his arm snaked around you and pulled you closer, “Y/n? What’s wrong? Have a bad dream?” He remembered that he wasn’t going to get a verbal answer, so he opened his eyes to see you looking absolutely miserable. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

You nodded but then winced when a really bad cramp rocked through you. You had always had really painful periods, but you hadn’t had to feel it in it’s full affects in years.

“Bullshit, you don’t look okay. Are you sick?”

Not even bothering to answer, you pushed away from him and slowly made your way to the bathroom. He leaned over to turn the bedside lamp on and that’s when it clicked for him. “Holy shit! How are you even alive, that’s a fuck ton of blood. I’ve been stabbed before and I didn’t bleed that much.”

You knew he was just being dramatic, but it still made you cringe that he was witnessing this. You could hear him stripping the sheets as you turned the shower on. Now all your recent mood swings made sense. Just last night you had been pissed, horny, and crying all in the span of several minutes. Stupid hormones.

When you stepped out of the shower there was a box of tampons and a box of pads sitting on the counter next to the sink. Just seeing them made you pout. You fucking hated your period.

You stepped out once you were dressed and heard the buzz of the dryer. Surely there was no way Dabi had cleaned the sheet that fast. You walked out of the bedroom to see him rushing towards you with a massive blanket. He stopped when he saw you standing in the hallway. “Uh… okay. So, game plan. I warmed up a blanket. I have Fruits Basket queued up and chocolate chip pancakes are on stand bye.”

Your eyes widened ~How?~

“How what? How did I know?” You nodded and he you swear to god he blushed. “I uh… I may have texted my brother. Who texted Bakugo, who called me, and now here we are.”

That made more sense. Katsuki had always been the only one who could handle your mood swings when you were menstruating. Everyone else claimed you were too scary. When you were younger your quirk would become unpredictable and it would randomly activate at the most inconvenient times. Your quirk used to be heavily influenced by your emotions, and when your monthly cycle came around it was almost impossible to control your emotions.

It took him a few tries but eventually Katsuki got the routine down. Warm blanket, something sweet, and some sappy anime, which we’d never admit it, but he actually loved.

You accepted the blanket from him and hobbled towards the couch. You pulled your knees to your chest in an attempt to get comfortable. Dabi disappeared but quickly returned with the pancakes. “I’m an idiot for not thinking about this. It obviously was going to happen at some point. You’ve been here for about three weeks.”

~Thank you~ You took the pancakes from him and he gave you a weird look.

“Okay I’m not good at the whole taking care of others thing. So… do I leave you alone? Do you expect me to watch this shit with you?”

You glared at him as you ate your pancakes and because you were already in a bad mood… you shrugged. Did you do it on purpose to piss him off. Of course.

He growled before throwing himself down on the couch next to you. “You’re lucky you don’t feel good you fucking brat. I’m really trying to be nice.”

You ignored him and hit play. You knew you were being ridiculous, but you also couldn’t stop yourself. It was like you wanted his attention any way you could get it. You finished your pancakes and were about two episodes into the show, but your cramps hadn’t subsided. You whined as you hugged the blanket around you and started to toss around trying to find a position, any position that would help with your cramps.

You thought Dabi had fallen back asleep, so you were scared shitless when his arms wrapped around you and pulled you down onto his chest. He was laying on his back pinning your chest to his. You could barely see the blue of his eyes in the dark. He looked so tired though. “Just smack me if it’s too much… but do you trust me?”

You bit your lip but nodded anyways. You knew by now that Dabi would stop if you asked him to. So, while you were nervous about what he was going to do, you also trusted him to listen to you.

He reached his hands around and pushed his hands just past the waistband of your sleeping shorts. Your breath hitched but his hands stopped there. You wondered what he was doing, but then his hands started to heat up and oh shit did it feel good. It was like he was your own personal heating pad.

You hummed into his neck and shifted a little bit to sink further into him. You hiked one of your legs up and wiggled to push yourself into his hands more, chasing the warm comfort.

You stayed like that for a while. The tops of his fingers ghosting over the curve of your ass as his palms pressed into your lower back. It was honestly impressive how he his hands were just hot enough to feel good without burning you.

Dabi sucked in a breath, “You like that huh?” He pulled you closer to him. His hands started to knead into your lower back as he buried his nose into your hair. You let out a groan at how good it felt. Before you could stop yourself you grinded down on his thigh. “Oh, you really like it…” You could hear the playful note in his voice. “Like I said… stop me if it’s too much.”

You knew what direction this was heading, and you didn’t care because it felt so good. His hands slipped lower and grabbed your ass and started to massage your cheeks before pulling you down hard into his thigh. “I heard somewhere…” His mouth was at your ear now nipping at the shell of it. “That the best thing for period cramps…” He moved his thigh up to meet your center as his hands pulled you down and moved you back and forth. “Is an orgasm.” Your fingers found his shirt and gripped onto it while you started to ride his thigh. “I would be selfish not to help you out.” His lips found your neck and he pressed gentle featherlike kisses there, making you sigh. “Take what you need from me baby.”

He gave your ass a hard squeeze before giving it a slap. “Fuck, your ass is perfect.” He gripped your hair and pulled you back and his lips met yours and you moaned at how delicious it was. This. This is what you needed. You needed someone to make you forget. To make you feel like you weren’t some fragile and broken toy. He was letting you take the lead while he maintained all of the control.

Your hand reached up and cupped his cheek. Your quirk activated and in your touch you could feel his overwhelming desire. You could also feel hesitation. He must be worried about pushing you too far. You pushed your lust back at him through your touch to reassure him you were more than okay this. He growled and deepened your kiss before yanking himself away. “Fuck Y/n! I-I think you’re quirk triggered. You smell… god you smell so fucking good!”

You grit your teeth. You wanted to tell him sorry, but the words wouldn’t leave your lips. His hands came to your hips and pulled you, so you were now grinding on his already hard dick. Your hands stopped his as you shook your head no. Now you were worried you were the one taking advantage of him. You knew your smell could be overwhelming.

He panted as he bucked up, “No, please don’t stop on my account. It’s fucking hot. I promise you y/n… if you ever let me…” One of his hands found it’s way back to your ass while the other snaked into your shorts and started to rub your clit through your underwear. “I’ll show you what it feels like to be fucking worshiped.”

You felt your orgasm quickly building and Dabi could tell. He could see the way your chest heaved and he could feel the way you began to frantically snap your hips. He kissed up your neck while he picked up the speed on your clit. “You want to know why?” He bucked his hips hard up into yours. “Because you’re a good girl. You are MY good girl.”

That was all you needed. You shook and your thighs squeezed around him. He kept going to help you ride it out as long as possible. You felt all your tension bleed out. All of the stress of the past couple days, hell the past couple weeks, didn’t even matter anymore. And all you did was ride his thigh.

When you finally had enough you grabbed his hand and squeezed. Panting you nuzzled back up to him and his hands trailed up and down your spine. “That’s my girl. Good job.” He kissed the top of your head and pulled the blanket back up over you. “Now let’s get some sleep.” We can skip the routine tomorrow. We can just do this instead. One day off won’t kill you.”

You hummed as you melted into him. Your eyes drooped closed and the last thing you remembered was Dabi grabbing your thigh and hitching your leg over his waist.

“The gag won’t be enough. We need to make sure she doesn’t even have the option of talking.” That voice sent chills down your spine. It belonged to the man you only knew as Dr. A3. They never used their names around you. Just an extra precaution in case you were to escape. Dr. A3 was the one who seemed to be in charge of all our your “experiments”. He was psychotic and you hate him with every cell in your body.

You were back on that table. You opened your eyes, but you couldn’t see anything but the blindfold.

“I can handle that, but my quirk will eventually ware off.” That was Cogernot. He was technically a villain who was being held in the same way you were. His quirk allowed him to manipulate with people’s cognition. He could turn off your senses, mess with your memories, and so much more. It was common that they grouped the two of you together in the lab.

“That’s fine how long do you think it’ll last?”

Cogernot sighed, “It’s different with every person but the more often I do it the longer it’ll last. But you have to be careful. If I mess with her too much it could become permanent.”

Dr. A3 laughed, “You say that as if it’s a bad thing. If that girl were able to talk, she could easily escape, or even worse she could make us all kill one another.” He ran a hand through your tangled hair and you winced in pain. “Besides girls like her are meant to be seen and not heard. We have another girl here who can walk through people’s dreams and convince them to do all kinds of stuff. We don’t need y/n’s honeyed words anymore. Do it.”

“If you say so… But don’t come crying to me when I accidentally break your favorite toy.”

You felt a hand press to your forehead, and you felt something snap.

Your eyes slowly opened, and you found that you were still laying on top of Dabi in his living room. You were able to keep your panic at bay by slowly breathing and counting in your head. You matched your breathing to Dabi’s, and you felt his arms tighten around you.

You looked at his sleeping face. He looked so different like this, when he wasn’t yelling at you or teasing you. A flush came over your cheeks when you remembered what happened earlier that morning. You traced your finger over the staples under his eyes.

His hand flew up and grabbed your wrist. “Can I help you?” He didn’t even bother to open his eyes, so you shoved on his shoulder to make him look at you. “I literally just woke up and you’re already begging for attention.” It drove you crazy that he wouldn’t open his eyes to look at you. The asshole knew you couldn’t talk…. Couldn’t talk.

The dream came crashing back to you. You pushed yourself off of him and went in search for your journal.

“Wait y/n… come on. Come back. I’ll open my eyes. Don’t throw a fucking temper tantrum over it Jesus.”

You came back with your journal and sat down on the table that was across from the couch and started to write everything you could remember about your dream. Dabi sat up and tried to smooth his hand up your thigh but you paused your writing long enough to slap it away. ~Not now~

“There’s no way you’re that mad. Come on what are you writing. Is this our first fight? Are fighting right now? That’s cute.”

You scowled as you shoved your journal in his face. The look on his face went from amused to concerned as he started reading.

“Wait that’s where Cogernot has fucking been this whole time? We thought he died.” He looked at you “How many times did he use his quirk on you?”

You shrugged and for once he didn’t yell at you for it.

He ran a hand through his white hair. “So, if this is really just his quirk and not some kind of trauma then it should ware off soon. That idiots quirk usually only lasts for a couple of hours though, sometimes a few days. I’ve never seen it last this long.” He stood up and started to pace. You watched him go back and forth a few times before he threw his hands in the air, “Shit!” He picked up a pillow and it immediately turned to ash.

He looked back to you and saw the alarm in your eyes, “I’m sorry, I’m overreacting. It’s just – That fucking idiot may have permanently fucked you up.” You cringed at his words. Was that how he saw you? Fucked up?

He started pacing again, “He told me once there was a way to override his quirk though. You just have to convince your brain that it’s dying. Something about that kicks it into gear and nullifies his quirk.” He looked to the pool and then to you. “We could drown you! I know CPR, it’ll be fine.”

~NO NO NO~ The look in Dabi’s eyes was starting to scare you. He looked like he was ready to do it no matter what you said. As much as you wanted to talk again, you didn’t think it was worth risking your life over. But apparently, he did. Apparently learning sign, and reading your journal was just too much work for him. If he was this desperate to fix it… if he was willing to drown you just so you could talk….

You were ripped from your thoughts when he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder. You kicked and hit him while tears streamed down your cheeks. There was no way he would go through with this… right?

You heard the sliding glass door open and all the sudden you were only steps away from the pool. You couldn’t see into his eyes, you couldn’t see what was going on in that fucked up head of his. You slid a hand under his shirt right before he got to the pool and did the only thing you could think of. You showed him how scared you were. You made him feel that terror. He paused only for a moment before jumping in the pool.

He let go only for a few seconds just so he could pull your back to his chest and whisper into your hair. “I know you’re going to hate me, but eventually you will think me for this.”

And then he was shoving you under. You clawed at his arms, ripping several of his staples out. You poured all of your terror and your pain into your touch and grabbed his wrists that were holding you under.

This was fucked up, this was so fucked up. You didn’t want to die. Why was he doing this? He didn’t even know if it would work! Your panic wasn’t making it any easier. You were losing oxygen fast and before you knew it you were starting to black out. You were going to die… You were going to drown in the same pool he had held you in so sweetly and helped you rehabilitate in. Your fingers ceased their scratching and your arms fell limp.

He didn’t bring you back up until you had stopped moving completely. He pulled you back up to the surface and immediately laid you down on the hard-concrete outside of the pool. In seconds he was on you preforming CPR. “Come on… You’re strong. You can take a little drowning. Hell, I’ve drowned a few times. Well I’ve been waterboarded… I don’t know if that exactly the same thing.” He nervously babbled to your unconscious body as he continued his chest compressions. “Come on y/n! Fuck!” He pinched your nose and breathed into you. Just a few hours ago his lips had been on yours for an entirely different reason and he desperately wished he could go back to that moment now.

He continued his chest compressions tears pooling in his eyes. “COME ON Y/N!” He did this. This was his fault. His father was right about him. The world was right about him. He’s a monster. He was supposed to be protecting you. You trusted him and he did this to you. He had felt your fear, your pain, and he did it anyway.

The thought of you never getting to talk again had thrown him into a panic. The thought of those fuckers taking apart of who you were away from you made him see red. He acted impulsively and now he’s paying the price.

“WAKE UP! PLEASE!”

You coughed and water came flooding out of your mouth. He cried out in relief and rolled you onto your side and patted your back to help you expel the water from your lungs.

It fucking burned. Your throat was raw from the chlorine and your brain was foggy from the lack of oxygen.

“Y/n… I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I-I don’t even know what to say.”

He reached his hand out to touch your face but you caught it. You stared into his eyes with as much hate as a person could have and gripped his hand so hard you could feel your nails cutting into his skin, “Fuck… You…”

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

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime@klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe @unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry

[anonymousfiction211]

Handcuffed together chapter 6: First training

‘Morning, darling’ Loki replied when he saw you entering the training room. ‘Morning’ you grumbled back. You were still mad at him, especially since he didn’t even try to apologize like Thor said he would. ‘I must admit that I never inquired about your abilities. Could you please explain to me what you are able to do?’ he asked.

‘I can heal certain wounds and cuts, given they’re not to deep and there is not too much damage to any important veins or organs. And I can conjure up certain shields, heatshields, frost shields and physical shields. But that you knew already.’ you explained to him.

‘If you can conjure up shields, why are you never in the middle of the battle?’ he asked.

‘The team prefers to keep the healing abilities away from the battle’ you said.

‘Not after I’m done with you’ he smiled. You ignored it. ‘I thought we start simple and heal bones first’ he went on. He explained that healing bones was the easiest thing to do, because you just have to rearrange fragments or mend bones back together. He made you repeat the spell over and over again, before he finally summoned broken animal bones for you to practice. To say it gone extremely slow and frustrating would be an understatement. ‘Darling, you’re thinking too much. Trust your instincts’ Loki tried to encourage you. It took you the whole morning, but eventually you were able to mend three of the ten bones. Sweat was trickling down your forehead and you felt exhausted. ‘I think that’s quite enough for today’ Loki said when he saw how tired you were.

‘No, I can keep going’ you argued. Loki made all the bones disappear with one hand gesture. ‘No. You cannot’ he said sternly. You sighed heavily and got up. There were tiny black spots when you moved, but you tried to ignore them and keep your balance. Loki rushed to your side but you pushed him away. ‘Everyone learns in his own space. You know what to do, and it will get easier with practice. And practice takes time’ he said.

‘That’s not what you said yesterday’ you snapped.

‘About that.. (Y/N), I wanted..’ he started, but you cut him off.

‘I don’t want the here it. I’m going for lunch and then visit Steve. I don’t want to see YOU for the rest of the day’ you said while walking away. You walked to the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge. Eventually deciding to make an egg-salad sandwich. When you walked towards the table you were rather annoyed to see Loki there. ‘What are you doing here?’ you said while glaring at him. He was nonchalant reading a book with his feet on one of the other chairs. ‘I’m not leaving you before we talk’ he said.

‘I don’t want to hear it’ you replied.

‘I think you do. But I’m patient. I won’t leave until you do want to hear it’ he answered with a smirk on his face. Annoying bastard you thought. ‘I heard that’ he replied without looking up at you. You groaned in annoyance. You ate your sandwich in silence. After that you cleared your plate and walked towards the medbay to check up on Steve. Loki was following you, but you did your best to ignore his presence. When you entered you saw Steve still laying unconscious, hooked up to several machines. You stopped in your tracks. This was harder than you thought. Loki put a hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off. ‘Don’t follow me’ you said while entering Steve’s room. To your surprise Loki actually stayed outside. You could still see him through the glass wall, but at least he gave you some space.

You sat down next to Steve and grabbed his hand. It was hard to see him in this state. ‘You should have walked it off’ you whispered to him. You knew Steve was going to be fine, but it would take a while. They didn’t know how long it was going to be before he wakes. You played the event back in your head and couldn’t help thinking what you did wrong. Tears were starting to form in your eyes. You closed your eyes and leaned against Steve’s arm, silently sobbing. You hadn’t noticed that Loki had entered the room until a pair of strong hand grabbed you and he pulled you in his lap in the chair next to you. ‘Shh, I got you’ he shushed while stroking your hair. It felt actually nice in his arms and you sobbed in his chest. ‘You can’t think like that. There was nothing you could have done differently’ he reassured you. He kept stroking your hair and telling you that you did nothing wrong. When you finally stopped sobbing he put his hand under your chin and made you face him. ‘I’m really sorry for snapping at you. I didn’t mean it, love’ he told you. You noticed how you felt a little giddy when he called you love, but for now decided to ignore it.

Loki carried you back to his room. He laid you down on his bed on top of the blankets. There were a lot of pillows, but it felt comfortable. He laid down beside you and you instinctively nuzzled against his chest. His arms were wrapped around you ‘Take a nap, you are really tired’ he said.

‘Are you here when I wake up?’ you asked him.

‘I promise, kitten’ he said while giving a kiss on your head. You saw a green shimmer and wanted to ask what he did. But before you could your eyelids felt heavy and you fell asleep immediately.

When you woke you looked up and saw Loki reading a book, while he was stroking your hair. ‘Feeling better?’ he asked when he noticed you were awake. You nodded and pulled yourself from his grasp. ‘What time is it?’ you asked him.

‘It’s 3.30 pm’ he said while snapping his book shut. ‘And you are not done for today’ he added. You cocked an eyebrow. But Loki got off his bed and motioned for you to follow him. He led you to the library and handed you a book. ‘Now, to be a healer you need to know things like autonomy. So, I want you to start studying with this book’ he said. You eyed the book and it was about the human body. You flipped through the book, the text was rather long and dry, but the information was important. Loki leaned closer ‘I’m going to quiz you next week, and if you don’t want to end up naked with my cock deep inside of you, I suggest you start studying every afternoon after physical practice’ he purred. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, causing Loki to lean in and starting to kiss your neck softly.

‘Loki, not here’ you mumbled. The truth was that you started to like him. You started to like his snarky comments, how good he could make you feel and loved it when he showed you his softer side. But he still was moody, possessive, egotistic and incredibly insensitive sometimes. So, you were torn. ‘Can’t have you studying too much. Because I really want to end up with my cock deep inside of you next week’ he whispered in your ear. A shiver ran down your spine. When Loki kissed you, all resistance left you. You kissed him back eagerly and slid your tongue inside his mouth. Loki moaned approvingly while his hand was under your shirt, unclipping your bra, and started to play with your breasts. One of his hand travelled downwards and he undid the button of your pants. He slid down beneath your waistband and felt that you were already wet. He pulled your pants and underpants down and moved you, so you could step outside of them. You were roaming his chest underneath his shirts, feeling his muscles flex underneath your touch.

Loki broke the kiss, undid the buttons of his own pants, and pulled his pants and underwear right down below his ass. In one smooth motion he lifted you up and your legs wrapped around his waist. He trapped your body between his and the bookcase behind him. You felt yourself stretched as his cock entered you, he had you impaled on his cock and you moaned loudly. One of his hands covered your mouth to muffle the sounds you were making. He started to thrust into you, in a very fast pace. It felt like he needed you. Like he hadn’t seen you in forever. It was different from the dominating way he had taken you before. Not that you minded, his cock was hitting just the right spot at this angle. Loki was grunting and you were moaning helplessly against his hand. You felt your pleasure wash over you and you clenched down on his cock. Loki snapped his hips a few more thrusts before spilling inside of you. After that, he slowly lowered you down and caught his breath while staring into your eyes. He pulled you in for a loving kiss. The library doors opened and the two of you quickly pulled up your pants and tried to make yourself as decent as you could. ‘Ah there you are, brother’ Thor’s voice boom throughout the library. He stopped when he saw the two of you, and you felt him look you up and down. Loki took a step before you, blocking his view. ‘What do you need?’ he asked in a rather bored voice.

‘We were going to spar together, unless you are occupied with other things’ Thor smirked.

‘I’ll be there in five minutes’ Loki replied, ignoring Thor’s suggestion.

With that Thor left. Loki turned around ‘I guess I should get going. Don’t study too hard’ he mused. He took a step closer and kissed you again. His hands went underneath your shirt and you felt him hook your bra back together. You blushed, realizing why Thor had made his suggestion. He winked at you before teleporting away.

Tags: @delightfulheartdream @l0nelyasian​ @the-best-phineas

[thedragonnerd]

Fic: Love Languages

Headcanon suggested by a lovely anon, which spawned into a fic. Read on Ao3 or under the cut.

Words of affirmation

Receiving compliments or words of encouragement are not uncommon for Namaari. She has gone through life aiming to be the best at everything she does – the best leader, the best warrior, the best Princess – and along with her success come compliments on her fighting techniques, her decision-making skills, and even her ability to look formidable in her formal attire.

As royalty, people lavish her with praises when they see an opportunity to get into her good graces, despite the obvious lack of sincerity behind their words, and it tires her to deal with fawning citizens. She loves her people, but she’d rather they’d love her back truly; false words mean nothing.

Chief Virana does not give out compliments easily, and is often faster to critique than to encourage. Namaari pretends her mother’s approval is nothing more than something important to receive from her Chief, but in reality, she craves hearing soft words such as ‘well done, Morning Mist’, whenever she is lucky enough to have them bestowed upon her.

As she grows up, she decides that sweet words are nice to have, but ultimately unnecessary – nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement is needed, before one can place it aside and move on to more important things. And then Raya comes back into her life.

Raya, who can flirt endlessly with elaborate innuendos until Namaari rolls her eyes at her ridiculousness. Raya, who is quite happy to press herself closer than absolutely necessary in their sparring sessions, just to set out some unspoken physical challenge.

And yet, when it comes to providing a genuine compliment, Raya practically freezes.

‘I like…like your hair,’ she mumbles one day to Namaari, glancing off to the side in order to avoid making eye contact. Her cheeks are flushed bright red, even though earlier in the day she had made a lewd comment about a sword which didn’t even have her blinking.

For some reason, Raya’s lack of suaveness when it comes to providing true compliments delights Namaari, and she hoards each instance close to her heart, happy in the knowledge that every word spoken was genuine in its meaning.

In return, she starts to gift Raya with compliments of her own.

For Raya is not used to receiving compliments, at least not in a long time. Her Ba used to provide encouragement and compliments often, but that was many years ago, and now he hesitates to put them into words sometimes, unsure of how this new dynamic works when he’s looking at a grown-up daughter rather than a small child.

Namaari has no difficulty in sharing them though.

‘You look very beautiful today,’ she tells Raya softly one evening, when they are having dinner. Raya stammers out some incomprehensible response, and spends the rest of the meal staring down at her bowl, occasionally darting her eyes over to Namaari.

‘I love that hairstyle on you,’ Namaari says to her a few days later, watching as Raya braids her hair back with expert precision.

‘Umm…thanks?’ Raya squeaks.

‘Your techniques were excellent today,’ Namaari informs her after a sparring session. This time, Raya just nods, and clears her throat before trying to awkwardly change the subject. Namaari can still see the smile on her lips though.

Eventually, Raya becomes better at both giving and receiving words of affirmation. Namaari learns how true compliments can be more meaningful than expected.

It isn’t the most important aspect of their relationship, but they like to encourage each other all the same.

Acts of service

Raya sees how much of a burden Namaari perpetually takes onto her shoulders, in her duties for Fang. She is so focused on helping her people rebuild and expand, or going away on diplomatic missions to help form better relations with the other lands, that she forgets to take a moment to breath sometimes.

Raya wants to take some of her stress away, by helping her carry out some of her duties or at least be involved in organizing certain aspects of the expansion projects, but she discovers quickly that Namaari is somewhat of a perfectionist. It is almost more stressful for her to find herself out of the loop or uninformed about decisions, than it would be to allow her undertake the duties in the first place, and so Raya finds it more helpful to just back off from the work unless asked to provide support.

It’s also a way for Namaari to feel as if she is atoning for her past actions. Raya wishes she wouldn’t feel the need to do so, but it is something they’ve argued about before, and they always end up stuck in a perpetual loop.

One of the ways Raya can help however, is with her cooking.

Namaari is an awful cook (something Raya unfortunately discovers herself with one ill-fated meal), but she is fascinated by watching Raya conjure something up in the kitchen.

Gone are the days of living off jackfruit jerky; with so many fresh and interesting ingredients at her disposal, and with the occasional reminders from Ba when she is unsure about something, Raya makes a whole array of different foods over the months.

It’s one of the best ways of getting Namaari to relax, Raya finds. Every mealtime when Raya is behind the pot, Namaari will abandon whatever work she is doing, and will sit and watch Raya finish making the dishes. They’ll always eat it together, and for a short while, Raya can feel the stress lift free from Namaari as she laughs over Raya’s words and enjoys good food.

Gifts

The first gift Namaari ever gave Raya has almost become a symbol for their entire complicated history. It represents new friendship, betrayal, and after so many years…forgiveness and a fresh start.

Namaari gives it back to her not long after the return of Kumandra, before she can second-guess herself.

‘It was a gift,’ she says, half-expecting it to be thrown back in her face. But Raya runs her finger gently over the surface of the dragon pendant, and then sends her a small smile. The next day, Namaari sees it hanging around her neck once more.

Once they start dating properly, Namaari can’t get it out of her mind how much the gift seemed to mean to Raya, both times.

‘She still doesn’t have that many personal belongings,’ Namaari informs Sisu, as an explanation as to why she was forcing the dragon to accompany her around endless market stalls in Talon, looking for the perfect gift for Raya. ‘I figure it’s because she was on the move so much in life, she couldn’t carry a lot.’

Sisu makes an ‘mmm’ sound, clearly not buying her reasoning completely, but allows the topic to drop when she’s distracted by shiny objects at the next stall.

Namaari finds a small knife that can be strapped to a wrist and slipped up the sleeve. She knows how much Raya prefers to be carrying at least one weapon with her at all times, and this would be perfect for diplomatic meetings – subtle, and easy to hide. And indeed, Raya wears it continuously after receiving it as a gift.

On another visit to another market, this time in Spine, Namaari spies a comb with a beautifully carved handle.

‘For your hair,’ she says in an attempt to be casual, thrusting it awkwardly in Raya’s direction that evening. Raya loves it, and it is indeed used every night before bed to comb out her braids.

Every time Namaari has to travel on diplomatic missions, she now ensures that she brings back something small for Raya.

‘I love the gifts,’ Raya tells her one day. ‘But I love even more how it shows you’re thinking of me when you’re away.’

One evening, as they are getting ready for bed, a small golden ring drops out of Namaari’s pocket by mistake.

‘Is…is that my old hair band?’ Raya asks, peering over the side of the bed as Namaari scoops it up in a hurry. ‘I thought I’d lost that years ago.’

‘I found it,’ Namaari says defensively, clutching it tight in her fist. ‘I guess…I never asked you if you wanted it back?’

Raya shakes her head with a smile, but the following evening, she steps up behind Namaari, sliding her hand into her pocket. Namaari watches as she pulls out the hair band and threads it onto a small gold chain.

From then on, they both wear a gift from the other around their necks.

Physical touch

Sometimes, everything can become overwhelming, the past traumas so great that it seems suffocating. And in that darkness, sometimes the gentle touch of another is the only thing keeping the world grounded.

Raya goes six long years without receiving a hug. At the time, she doesn’t see it as a big deal – she’s grown up fast, and learnt that the world isn’t the welcoming place her father once hoped it could be. Even moreso, her Ba was the last one to hug her, and she doesn’t mind keeping it that way.

Now though, she finds comfort in the small touches. It’s in the featherlight way Namaari’s nose brushes against her neck as they curl up together in bed, waiting for the morning sun to rise. It’s in the gentle trail of Namaari’s fingers across her back, as they stand talking to others, and Namaari absentmindedly reaches out for her. It’s in the soft kiss against her temple, when Namaari has to go back to work after lunch.

Occasionally, she will need to be encompassed by that comfort, and in this moment, she will go and find Namaari, stepping closer until her forehead rests on her shoulder. No matter what she was previously doing, Namaari will pause everything, wrapping her arms tightly around Raya, and they stand there until Raya can feel as if she can breathe again.

Namaari has a habit of falling too far into her own mind sometimes. She is an outwardly composed and pragmatic individual, but internally, all sorts of doubts and guilt still plague her, and there are days where she can’t shake off the feeling that she isn’t doing enough in her life to atone for her past, or that she is a fraud who has no right in stepping up and trying to lead her people when her previous actions cost them so much.

It’s difficult for her to ask for help in these moments. Raya learns instead to notice the signs of a bad day, or whenever Namaari gets trapped into a downwards spiral, and she will take Namaari by the hands and sit them somewhere quiet.

There they can actually talk, and sometimes Namaari feels comfortable enough to share her fears. But the most important thing, Raya finds, is to slide an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in tight and peppering her cheek and bare shoulder with small kisses.

Raya refuses to let her go until she sees at least one small smile.

Quality time

In the early days of the relationship, there is still so much separation between the two of them. Raya is in Heart, helping her Ba welcome back everyone to their lands, fixing up the buildings, ensuring the harvest gets started…There are so many jobs to do, and Raya knows Namaari is undergoing the same issues back in Fang, coupled with an expansion of their kingdom.

On top of all of this, there are endless council meetings and diplomatic missions, so if it isn’t Namaari being busy with politics, it is Raya, much to her annoyance.

Whenever they do get to spend time together, they ensure no minute is wasted. They have meals together, and spar together, and find all sorts of random ways to entertain themselves. Namaari loves to go out in the evenings and watch the night sky, attempting to teach the constellations to Raya; but Raya decides that these constellations are ridiculous, and so they create their own. Raya meanwhile loves to go for hikes in the woods, dragging Namaari along to discover new plants and wildlife, and occasionally climbing the trees.

They both love to sit in bed next to each other, quietly reading their books, or discussing their day. Sometimes, Raya will lie sideways on the bed, her stomach across Namaari’s legs and her arms hanging over the edge, so she can carve pieces of wood into intricate shapes, with Namaari reads out loud for the both of them.

Even after several years, and living together permanently, Raya finds herself reflecting on the fact that she never gets bored as long as she’s with Namaari.

They are currently lying in a field somewhere in the depths of Heart land, enjoying the sun shining onto their faces and the grass tickling their skin. She lazily wiggles her hand until it makes contact with Namaari.

‘Dep la?’ Raya whispers, and Namaari grunts in response. ‘You don’t get bored with me, right?’

Namaari merely shuffles closer without even opening an eye, resting her cheek against Raya’s shoulder.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ she mumbles, and she’s curled up so close that Raya can feel the vibrations of her voice on her skin.

‘Didn’t think so,’ Raya says in satisfaction. They continue to enjoy the peace.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] 520 Texts - Kiro, Lucien, Victor

Trivia: 520 stands for 20 May, a day celebrated by the Chinese as another Valentine’s Day. This is because 我爱你 (“wo ai ni” - “I love you”) sounds like the numbers 5, 2, and 0 (“wu er ling”) when said aloud!

520 Moments: Gavin l Kiro l Lucien l Victor l Shaw

More texts: Gavin l Shaw

⭐️ KIRO ⭐️

[ You’re a Treasure ]

You’re the best teammate when going on adventures, and the biggest treasure I’ve found.

-

[ Version One ]

Kiro: Miss Chips, do you know about “treasure hunters”?

MC: I heard they’re a group of travellers who search for treasures?

Kiro: That’s right, Their mission in life is to search for the mysterious and tempting “treasure”.

Kiro: So is Miss Chips ready?

Kiro: The adventure with Kiro in search of treasure is about to begin!

MC: Huh? Don’t treasure hunters prefer working solo?

Kiro: There are times when they work together too!

Kiro: Also, I have a feeling that MC is my best partner.

Kiro: The treasure map, clues, and everything else have been prepared!

MC: Seems like this adventure plan is related to today...

Kiro: Miss Chips is so sharp! Since you’ve already found out, I’ll tell you a secret...

Kiro: Actually, what I want to convey is hidden in the treasure chest.

Kiro: If you want to know what it is, set out with me!

-

[ Version Two ]

Kiro: Miss Chips, do you know about “treasure hunters”?

MC: I don’t, but they sound really cool!

Kiro: Mmhmm, it’s enough to know that they’re really cool.

Kiro: So are you ready?

Kiro: The adventure with Kiro in search of treasure is about to begin!

MC: Right now? That’s too sudden!

Kiro: It might seem that way to MC, but I spent a really long time preparing for this day.

Kiro: Right now, the treasure map and clues are already in my hands.

Kiro: We just have to set out together, solve riddles, and explore!

MC: What if we don’t find the treasure?

Kiro: We’ll look around first. I believe Miss Chips can definitely do it!

Kiro: Also... your Kiro will always be by your side.

Kiro: When we’re together, we always have very good luck.

-

[ Version Three ]

Kiro: Miss Chips, do you know about “treasure hunters”?

MC: I do! This must be one of Kiro’s specially designed activities, right?

Kiro: Bingo!

Kiro: As expected of MC, the one who knows me best.

Kiro: You’re probably ready for the adventure with Kiro in search of treasure~

MC: H-hang on, where are we searching for the treasure?

Kiro: That isn’t something you have to worry about. I’ve already done my research.

Kiro: I’ve got a treasure map and clues.

Kiro: All MC has to do is set out with me to solve riddles, and explore!

MC: I seem to detect a pleasant surprise?

Kiro: As expected, you sensed it so soon!

Kiro: But that’s fine. I’m very confident in the contents of this surprise.

Kiro: I believe Miss Chips will reveal a gigantic smile after knowing the meaning of this treasure.

🦋 LUCIEN 🦋

[ Festival Habits ]

I seem to have gotten used to spending this day with you every year. I’m very happy that you’re in all of my beautiful memories.

-

[ Version One ]

Lucien: There’s a ticket to the aquarium on my office desk. Did you leave it there?

MC: That’s right. I finally decided on where to go today!

Lucien: I’ll have to congratulate the aquarium for being the winning selection then.

Lucien: What made you choose it as the final decision?

MC: There are many interesting creatures there! Belugas, jellyfishes, devil fishes... so many species!

Lucien: Mm, there are various special and beautiful creatures in the aquarium, and they draw one to study them.

Lucien: Based on your texts, I’m already able to imagine your look of anticipation.

MC: But there will probably be many people in the aquarium today...

Lucien: Mm. After all, today’s a very special day.

Lucien: So I’m afraid we’d have to set out earlier if we want to observe the sea creatures up close.

Lucien: I’ll pick you up after half an hour. How does that sound?

Lucien: The weather is pretty good today, and we might be able to see a beautiful sunset along the way.

-

[ Version Two ]

Lucien: There’s a ticket to the aquarium on my office desk. Did you leave it there?

MC: How did you guess so quickly?

Lucien: Because I recall you mentioning wanting to go to the aquarium a few days ago.

Lucien: Is there a special reason?

MC: I think the atmosphere of the aquarium suits you. Both give off a mysterious feeling, yet somehow draw others close to them.

Lucien: You used to say that frequently in the past.

Lucien: On the other hand, I think what suits you would be an unfettered place filled with imagination.

MC: I can hardly wait to visit the aquarium just by talking to you about it! 

Lucien: I feel the same way.

Lucien: Since it’s still early, why don’t we pick a restaurant first?

Lucien: On such a special day, we definitely need to wrap it up with an exquisite and unforgettable feast. What do you think?

-

[ Version Three ]

Lucien: There’s a ticket to the aquarium on my office desk. Did you leave it there?

MC: Yup. If I had left later, I could have given it to you personally.

Lucien: But there’s a sense of surprise this way.

Lucien: Could you tell me why you chose the aquarium?

MC: I feel that it has a really romantic atmosphere~

Lucien: I see.

Lucien: Watching the schools of fish and luminescent sea creatures does conjure a romantic feeling.

Lucien: Especially when with the person one likes.

MC: Also, I heard there’s a lucky draw event. If we’re lucky, we could get limited festival merchandise~

Lucien: Based on my memory, your luck has always been pretty good. I trust that it’d be the same today.

Lucien: I’ve also prepared a special gift for you.

Lucien: So no matter what, may today be a day of extraordinary surprises.

🌹 VICTOR 🌹

[ Travelling Plan ]

The destination of the trip isn’t important. As long as the person I’m travelling with is a certain dummy, it’s enough.

-

[ Version One ]

Victor: A reminder before you head out - this time, don’t bring along a pile of impractical things.

MC: I’ve brought along impractical things in the past?

Victor: I should ask when you haven’t.

Victor: We’re just viewing the scenery in the countryside, so bringing yourself will suffice.

MC: I heard that the billowing wheat fields in the countryside during summer are especially beautiful. So I brought my camera to take photographs.

Victor: Not bad. Looks like your newly bought camera is finally useful.

Victor: It’d no longer be used to simply take pictures of Pudding every day.

MC: Come to think of it, has it been a long time since you admired the countryside scenery?

Victor: Mm, it’s been a while.

Victor: The last time was at a holiday village with a certain someone.

Victor: During this festival, there won’t be many people in the countryside.

Victor: Looks like we’ll be able to relieve the idle and carefree time in the countryside that a certain someone has been anticipating.

-

[ Version Two ]

Victor: A reminder before you head out - this time, don’t bring a pile of impractical things.

MC: Aren’t we going on a self drive tour? There shouldn’t be a problem bringing more things~

Victor: There isn’t a problem.

Victor: But it can reduce unnecessary burdens.

MC: I’ve prepared some bentos and we can have a picnic in the countryside!

Victor: No wonder you’ve been occupying the kitchen recently.

Victor: That’s good. I can see if your culinary skills have improved as much as you claimed.

MC: We can finally free ourselves from our busy city life. Don’t you feel happy?

Victor: I do.

Victor: But that isn’t the reason.

Victor: Hasn’t a certain person been saying that we’ve been too busy and don’t have alone time?

Victor: Now, we can use this festival to make up for it.

-

[ Version Three ]

Victor: A reminder before you head out - this time, don’t bring a pile of impractical things.

MC: It’s too late. I’ve already packed my luggage!

Victor: ...you’re pretty fast.

Victor: What did you bring?

MC: I heard there’s a fruit garden in town, so I brought a basket to store fruits~

Victor: ...did you forget that a watermelon and a box of strawberries were put into the fridge yesterday?

Victor: If you can’t finish them, don’t count on me to help you.

MC: Actually, the reason why I picked the countryside was because there’d be fewer people there during the festival~

Victor: Mm, that’s a thorough consideration.

Victor: During the festival, there will be much fewer people as compared to the city.

Victor: The surroundings are exquisite, and the atmosphere isn’t bad.

Victor: Looks like a certain person’s wish to have a leisurely vacation can be fulfilled.

[pinkhairedlily]

Blue Fire Tree

Prompt: Everlasting (last day omgggg) | Gift for @tinaillustrations ! Hope you like this fluffy piece! I enjoyed writing this one. 🤗| Happy HitsuHina Week! @hitsuhina-week 💛💙

“Fire trees should be blue not red,” Ichika mumbles while filling in the traced pattern of the tree on the canvass as Hinamori gathers her unruly red mane into a semblance of a bun. Her charge was a Shinigami apprentice and had the hodgepodge attitude of both of her parents. She was sarcastic, blunt, inquisitive, passionate, and kind.

Renji thought she was the best person to teach his daughter common spells to start off her training. Not that Hinamori disliked being the resident kido expert. She particularly loved the monicker, but there were times she felt she didn’t deserve the title. Like today when, for some other reason, Ichika and her was blindsided by arts and crafts.

“Wouldn’t you like the flowers to resemble your hair?” Hinamori clips the last of the strands and looks over the child’s shoulder. The colors spill out of the lines and the scenery seems to change from summer to winter.

“But blue is the hottest color. Imagine trees blooming with the brightest flames, the most intense warmth, and the most lasting flowers.” Ichika finishes the piece with a last dash of blue paint. The apprentice turns to her and asks, “Does it look so desolate?”

“No, not really. To me, winter has always been warm.“

Someone coughs behind them to get their attention. Hitsugaya Toushiro, captain of the 10th Division, stands awkwardly at the entrance of the dojo with a tray of tea and pot of biscuits. It doesn’t escape her notice that he used the tea set she gave last Christmas, and this observation makes her feel giddy inside.

Maybe I’m just appreciative of people who use my gifts, Hinamori justifies to herself.

“Hello, Captain Hitsugaya. Is that for us or for Vice-Captain Momo?” Ichika greets him as she takes the tray off his hands.

The blush creeps on the captain’s face just as quickly as his brows furrow in annoyance. He quickly glares at the mischievous remark of Ichika and redirects his gaze to his equally flustered childhood best friend. “This was not of my own good will. I was threatened by Byakuya to take good care of his precious niece, and it just so happens that this space is under my jurisdiction.”

Hinamori tilts her head in a slight apology. “I hope we don’t bother you too much. Would you like to join us for some art session? Ichika loves to paint today.”

He almost says something, but he stops himself. His stance goes from alert to rigid, and tension fills the air. “Maybe some other time.” Ichika glances from her current teacher to the captain and back to her teacher again.

“Oh, sorry for taking up your time.” Hinamori slightly bows, unsure of what transpired just now, and Hitsugaya nods in return. Before he is completely out of her sight, she calls out to him again.

“Shiro-chan?” He glances back at the sound of his nickname. “Thanks for the tea.”

He smiles in mild annoyance before he flash-steps out of their sight. “It’s Captain Hitsugaya to you.”

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

“Something’s bothering you,” Rangiku says to Hinamori as she slides beside her in the ramen booth. “Your treat in exchange for my wisdom.” She proceeds to order her usual ramen and sake combo.

“How was your trip to the Land of the Living?” Hinamori asks, obviously skirting the issue she wishes to raise.

“Kazui is subdued and gentle like his mother, but somehow, he manages to get into fights with bullies on the street. It’s his Ichigo genes.” The combo meal arrives along with two shot glasses. “How are you doing with the chaotic devil spawn Ichika?”

“She’s progressing really fast with the kido, but she gets so distracted easily. It’s cute though that Renji and Rukia are not pressuring her. Great parents. How nice it must be.”

Rangiku side-eyes her while slurping the thick noodles. “How nice what now – “

Hinamori plays with her empty bowl and fidgets with her chopsticks. “To not be alone.”

She chokes on her noodles and quickly downs half of the sake bottle. “Oh, this is great news! I have someone on my mind who would like to be in your company forever.”

Hinamori gives no response and instead continues fiddling with her bowl. “How nice it is to be also like Shiro-chan, content and busy enough to be single. How do I become like your captain, Rangiku?”

The smile fades from the woman’s face and is replaced by a bustling vein near her temple. “I’m sorry what did that short man do or say to you?”

“I asked him if he would like to do some art with us, you know, help me with babysitting for a few minutes, but he literally stiffened like a stick. Seems like he doesn’t want to waste time with kids or do any family-related activities. Or maybe he’s just too busy, captain duties and all.”

And yet he took the time to bring you tea, a voice screams inside her mind.

“That’s….rude,” an exasperated Rangiku remarks. She pours a glass for Hinamori and decides on a plan. “Unless you’re seeing him as….?”

“Huh? Oh no no no.” Hinamori downs the liquid in one gulp, suddenly embarrassed by her friend’s insinuation. “We’re just friends, childhood friends. I…don’t see Shiro-chan that way.”

“Sure, whatever you say Momo. Do you want me to introduce you to some people?”

Hinamori looks up at her, doe-eyed.

“I guess that’s a yes.”

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

Hinamori actually forgot about her request to Rangiku as she and her student started to settle in a rather serious kido training. The plan apparently was set to happen after a week when she came across a bulletin announcing her quest for a perfect match through a one-day interview application. This was the first time Hinamori wanted to be swallowed by the void and never return to Seiretei.

She finds herself visiting Division 10 HQ every afternoon but to no avail since coincidentally, Rangiku has some errands to do in Karakura, and won’t be back until the date of the interview. Or maybe it has also something to do with Hinamori avoiding Hitsugaya and having to do all the explaining. And so she had no choice but to wait for the inevitable day.

“Uhhh Vice-Captain Matsumoto, you said introduce, not organize a whole dating screening process!” Hinamori’s voice goes a pitch higher for each word, but Rangiku is too busy arranging the people lining up to notice her.

Her current captain, Shinji Hirako, chuckles beside the blondie, amused by the growing line of eligible Shinigami singles in their HQ. “You are quite the eye candy in our division, huh. Didn’t expect you’d have this many suitors.” He squeezes his vice-captain’s shoulder as form of reassurance. “You should have told me, Hinamori. I could have set you up in an arranged marriage.”

“Captain, that’s atrocious!” Hinamori protests. She walks over to Rangiku to disperse the line, but Yumichika and Ikkaku move to her side and grabs her midway through her litany of objections. They lead her to a makeshift container with two chairs facing each other and a table in between.

“This is ridiculous,” Hinamori mumbles her breath, her energy already defeated by the two dumbasses in front of her.

“Well to be fair, Hinamori, this is a long time coming,” Yumichika says.

“And the result necessitates this kind of method so stop mumbling and screen your admirers, babe,” Ikkaku supplies. Irritated, Hinamori chases them off with two fireballs.

The first ten Shinigami ‘applicants’ were too insufferable as they were clearly aiming for the prestige of her position.

“If dating a vice-captain would give me a higher seat in Gotei 13 then why am I still single?” she bats the question to the 11th person who sat across her. When they didn’t give her an answer, she sighs, “Next please.”

“Would you know what’s my favorite brand of tea?”

“Uhh, Robusta.”

“I believe that’s coffee. Next please.”

“Hello, vice-captain Hinamori, I brought you peaches. They’re my favorite.”

“I’m allergic to them. I’m sorry. Next please?”

“What are your strengths?”

“Well, I can do shunpo.”

“That’s basic Shinigami skills.”

“…………..”

“…………..”

“I’ll see myself out. Thank you for your time, vice-captain.”

“I know you’re traumatized by Aizen-“

The container collapses as Hinamori summons Tobiume.

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

“I think I will be forever alone.” Hinamori looks on as her fellow vice-captains clean up the mess she incurred over the unfinished statement earlier.

“I’m really sorry if I did the whole thing over the top,” Rangiku tells her sincerely. She hugs the raven-haired girl and waits in silent for the commotion to die down. “Though the last one was really foul, and you were valid to be angry.”

“I was afraid I’d burn down Captain Shinji’s quarters.”

“You can, just to piss him off. The whole process is so draining, huh?” Hinamori nods at the observation. Rangiku continues, seemingly voicing her own thoughts, “It’s hard to put yourself out there especially when they don’t know batshit about you. Would be easier if you have common interests or when they’re already your friend.”

The last phrase is said so pointedly that Hinamori’s mind automatically pictures Hitsugaya. She runs along with her imagination. How easy it would be indeed to spend the rest of her life with him. And as if her mind conjured him, the 10th Division Captain comes into view alongside Ichika. It looks like her student dragged him to the unfortunate event.

There’s an angry glint in his eyes that Hinamori noticed. It was the torn expression he wore when she wounded her knees back when they were kids, the same frown when she told him she would kill for the traitor, the same worried eyes when she almost died. But his eyes refuse to meet hers.

“You missed all the fun, Captain.” Rangiku stretches out her arms as she stands up. She gestures for the rest of their friends to come nearer so they could re-group and go home. “It was a bad plan, and I owe Hinamori one. So we’re kinda ready for your scolding.”

Hitsugaya stays silent throughout the shuffling of his fellow Shinigami, in fact he remains frozen for too long that Ichika elbows him to get a response out of him. “Come on, you ruminated one week for this, and I had to physically stop you from harassing the interested applicants.”

“Shut up, Ichika,” the silver-haired captain mutters.

“I’ll tell on you to Uncle Byakuya!” the redhead sticks out her tongue and runs over to the side of Rangiku.

More annoyed than ever, Hitsugaya grunts and storms off towards Hinamori. “I’m not here to scold anyone. I’m here for the….dating application,” he gulps amid the collective gasps that ran through the group and the muffled laughter of Rangiku who clearly foresaw this.

“Well, what can I say, but fucking finally!” The blonde swigs a new bottle of wine from inside her robes and goes to do a little crowd control.

Hinamori’s eyes get a little bit bigger, and she stares at him with mouth agape, but she lets him grab her hand, in a gentle manner that he usually does, and brings her to the farthest fire tree in the area.

“Shiro-chan, what did you mean……” She continues to stare at his hand who somehow refuses to let go of her yet.

Ironically, he is also staring at the same hand, unsure whether to let go right now before he can actually say something. “I don’t know why you had to go through all of that.”

“I’m..I’m still confused, to be honest. It was just a passing feeling of loneliness, and I rambled to Rangiku which she took seriously….” Hinamori knows she is starting to word vomit out of nervousness, but she halts when he finally lets her go. Maybe she has misunderstood his presence again.

Hitsugaya raises his palm to her. “Would you let me…uhhh…word vomit this time?”

She slowly nods, rather shocked at his insistence, and even more so when he chooses to ramble.

“Momo, I have a cold reiatsu. My touch is never warm. But I know you like green tea, steeped in warm water for exactly 10 minutes, and that you don’t put sugar. You are afraid of storms, and you need a blanket around you to calm down. You like watermelon, but I think it’s because I subjected you to multiple summers of conditioning. You’re my childhood best friend. You’re hardworking. You are a kido expert. You earned your right to be a vice-captain, and you’ll do greater things.

And I know it’s not enough to say that I know you, I’ve always known you, but will it be enough for you to allow me to stay beside you?”

Hinamori leans against the trunk of the fire tree, breathless from his train of words. “Oh my god, this is too overwhelming. I thought you hated being not single.”

“What?” Hitsugaya looks at her with a puzzled expression.

“You don’t like Ichika. Or doing art…with kids.”

“Well, Ichika is a brat to me, but she’s a good student and will be a good Shinigami like her parents.” He nurses his temples for the growing headache. “Momo, listen to me.” He steps closer to her and makes sure she’s only looking at him. “I panicked because I visualized you and me….and you know. It wasn’t right when I haven’t even told you anything yet.”

“Oh.” The moment of realization dawns on her. “Oh, that’s great.”

“So we can finally go back to how we were.” Hitsugaya lets out a shaky breath as he sits on the grass and watches as the red petals of the fire tree shower them lightly.

A blushing Hinamori crouches down to his level. “Well, not quite. You should know, Shiro-chan, your reiatsu has always been warm and comforting to me.” She reaches out to take his hand and intertwines their fingers.

Hitsugaya smiles as he silently thanks himself that he outgrew her by two inches so he could easily slip a kiss on her forehead. “It’s Captain Hitsugaya.”

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

Ichika tries to see beyond the wall of spectators but Rangiku is not letting anyone through. She huffs indignantly, wanting to know whether her incessant prodding and pestering of the oblivious Hitsugaya bore some fruit. She has no choice but to juice out all the details later on from her uncle.

On second thought, maybe she won’t have to. Blue petals swayed with the light breeze of the wind, and on the far edge of the Fifth Division’s HQ is a lone blue fire tree.

[prouvaireafterdark]

See Something You Like? - Malex Sex Shop AU Part 2/2

I finally finished it!!! 🎉

God, writing this fic has been such a wild ride. When I got the prompt for it, I thought I’d write maybe a few thousand words and that’d be the end of it, but here we are, 14k words of gratuitous smut later lol.

Thank you all so much for your continued enthusiasm, patience, and support while I took approximately 500 years to write it 💜

Happy New Year, everyone!

Also on AO3! (Click here if you’d like to start with Part 1)

***

Michael finishes his shift in a daze, mind caught on the phone number burning a hole in his pocket. He knows there’s rules about how long you should wait to text someone once you have their number so you don’t come off as sad or desperate, but he’s still worked up from talking to Alex and every cell in his body is begging him to fucking call him.

After jerking off to the memory of him and several hours of overthinking it, Michael finally works up the nerve to send Alex a text at around 8pm.

Hey, it’s Michael, from Pandora’s Box, he types. Any chance I could get that review?

He presses send and sets his phone face down on his thigh before turning his attention back to finding something embarrassing to watch on his brother’s Netflix account while he finishes his grading. He settles on some soapy-looking teen show called Pretty Little Liars and presses play.

His phone buzzes a moment later and Michael’s heart rate picks up in anticipation. It falls just as quick when he sees that it’s just Isobel confirming the time for their monthly video chat with Max. He shoots off a response and tries to focus back on the short stack of exams he’s supposed to get through tonight while he waits for Alex to reply. 

As the minutes tick by, that’s easier said than done.

The longest twenty minutes of Michael’s life pass before he feels his phone vibrate again. The way he scrambles for it is a little embarrassing, but he’s rewarded with the sight of Alex’s name flashing across his screen this time, so, whatever. Michael opens the message without delay.

Alex: Was wondering when you’d text

Michael bites his lip as he types out his response.

Michael: ‘When’? Not ‘if’?

Alex takes another minute to reply and Michael doesn’t even pretend to grade while he waits.

Alex: Well, you did spend the better part of an hour dirty talking me at work

Michael laughs out loud as he reads it. He types “Fair” in the message field, but Alex texts again before he sends it.

Alex: I figured I made an impression

Michael deletes his reply and types a new one.

Michael: Understatement of the year tbh

He can practically hear Isobel chastising him for coming on too strong, but there’s no use playing coy with Alex after all the things they’ve said to each other today. Luckily, Alex doesn’t leave him hanging.

Alex: Oh yeah?

Michael: Yeah. I’ve been thinking about our conversation a lot

Alex: Which part?

Michael: God, all of it

Michael: But especially the way you looked at me when we were talking about my favorite dildo

Alex: How was I looking at you?

Michael swallows, thinking back to that moment, to the almost predatory way Alex stared at him.

Michael: Like you were picturing it inside of me

Michael: Like you wanted to watch me take it

Alex’s reply comes back quick this time.

Alex: I was

Alex: And I do

“Fuck,” Michael breathes, his cock twitching in his jeans. He leans back against the armrest of his couch and stretches his legs out in front of him before he types the only reply he can think of.

Michael: Fuck

Alex: 😈

Michael: What about you?

Alex: What about me?

Michael: Have you been thinking about it?

About me? he doesn’t say.

Alex: Only every minute since I left

Michael grins wide at that.

Michael: Glad I’m not the only one with absolutely no chill here

Alex: Haha, what can I say? You made an impression on me too

Michael: 😎

Michael: So, have you taken that massager for a test ride yet?

Alex: I have

Michael gives Alex some time to elaborate, and sends off another text when he doesn’t.

Michael: How’d you like it?

His phone buzzes a moment later, this time with a picture message. Michael is very glad he’s alone in his apartment when he opens it.

It’s a picture of Alex, that much is clear from the satisfied smirk on his face and the septum piercing just making it into the shot. He can also see that his chest is streaked with come, all the way up to his neck. There’s a caption beneath it that says, You tell me.

Michael’s cock has never gotten so hard, so fast.

His phone buzzes with another message.

Alex: You were right about the noise, by the way

Michael stares at the photo and the messages beneath it for longer than he’d care to admit before he decides to just call him.

“Michael?” Alex’s voice asks when he picks up.

“Jesus Christ, Alex,” Michael says, swiping a hand over his face as he tries to ignore the throbbing in his groin. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Alex’s laugh is musical on the other end of the line.

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” Alex says. “Pretty sure my soul left my body for a minute there when I used it.”

That statement conjures all sorts of images to Michael’s mind, and it isn’t until he hears Alex speak again that he realizes he hasn’t said anything.

“Michael?” Alex asks. “Did I lose you?”

“No, sorry, I’m here,” Michael replies, cheeks darkening with a blush Alex can’t see. “I’m just—sorry, literally all I can think about is how bad I want to lick your chest clean right now.”

“Mm, kinky,” Alex purrs.

“Yeah,” Michael shrugs. “Think you knew that about me already though.”

“Haha, yeah, guess I did.”

There’s a beat of silence over the line where neither of them speaks and Michael’s curiosity gets the better of him.

“When did you take that picture?” he asks.

“About an hour ago.”

“Did you take it for me?” Michael asks, unable to resist.

“Nah,” Alex answers lightly, and Michael’s confidence falls a little before he continues, “I took it for the other guy who sold me a sex toy today.”

“Cute,” Michael comments dryly.

Alex laughs, sounding pleased with himself. “I try.”

“You know…” Michael starts after a beat. “I’ve got some more toys you can play with at my apartment, if you’re interested.”

“That’s sweet, but next time I think I’d rather play with you.”

Michael curses under his breath, his cock throbbing against his zipper. He presses the heel of his palm against it, suppressing a groan at the feeling.

“In that case, you free tonight? ‘Cause I’d really like to be played with.”

Alex makes a low, contemplative sound that hits him deep in his gut. Michael bites his lip in anticipation.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Whatever you want,” Michael answers easily.

“Anything?”

“Well, maybe not anything,” Michael amends, sinking further against the couch’s armrest. “I’m not gonna call you ‘Daddy.’”

“Yeah, that definitely will not be a problem,” Alex replies, and there’s something in his tone that gives Michael the feeling there’s a story there, but it’ll have to wait for another time.

“Perfect,” Michael says. “So, how do you want me?”

There’s silence on the line for a heartbeat too long before Alex answers.

“Before we start making plans…” Alex starts at last, hesitant and uneasy like he’s never sounded before, “there’s something you should know.”

Michael’s heart sinks. There just had to be a fucking catch, huh?

“I’m listening,” Michael says carefully, trying to ignore the possibilities flying through his mind. What, is Alex married? Does he live with his ex? Does he have an STD? Is he—

“I’m a combat vet,” Alex says, words short and clipped.

“Oh,” Michael says. He’s spent his whole life actively avoiding people in the military, so he isn’t quite sure what to say to that. Is he supposed to thank Alex for his service or something?

“I, uh, lost my leg on my last tour,” Alex continues, and before Michael can formulate a response, he adds, “Hope that’s not a dealbreaker.”

“What?” Michael asks. “Why would that be a dealbreaker?”

“You’d be surprised how often it is,” is all Alex says, and Michael feels a rush of anger for him.

“Well, those guys are assholes who don’t deserve you,” he replies.

“So… it’s not a problem for you?” Alex asks after a brief moment, sounding surprised.

If Michael ever meets the men who made Alex feel like his body was a problem for them, he’s going to redefine the word for them, but Michael sets his anger aside for now.

”Alex, the only thing that’s a problem for me right now is that I’m not touching you,” Michael answers honestly.

Alex is quiet for a moment, and Michael starts to worry he’s blown this somehow, but then he finally says, “Well, we should fix that then.”

Michael lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Your place or mine?”

“Yours,” Alex answers quickly.

“What should I be ready for?” Michael asks.

Michael lets Alex consider his question, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“I want to fuck you,” Alex says at last. “But first, I want to watch you use that dildo you showed me earlier.”

“Fuck,” Michael whispers, mostly to himself. His cock pulses in his jeans, desperate for contact, and he’s sure Alex can hear the uptick in his breathing.

“That sound like something you’re up for tonight?” Alex asks.

“Fuck, yes, Alex, oh my god,” Michael says, and he can’t be too mad at himself for being inarticulate when it gives him the opportunity to hear Alex’s laugh one more time.

“When should I come over?”

“Uh,” Michael pauses, looking over his messy apartment. “Give me an hour?”

“Sounds good,” Alex says. “See you then.”

When he hears the call end, Michael turns off his TV and jumps off the couch, eager to get started.

He straightens up a little before he hops in the shower. When he’s done scrubbing the day from his body, he towels off in the bathroom and heads back into his living space, drawing the blinds with his telekinesis as he reaches for the box under his bed where he stores his toys.

He’s planning on just opening himself up with his fingers, but a flash of silver catches his eye before he shuts the box and Michael just can’t help himself. In addition to the galaxy dildo and his favorite lube, he grabs a thick, heavy stainless steel plug that looks just like the one he saw Alex staring at in the shop.

Michael lies down on his bed and picks up his phone off the bedspread. He unlocks it and pulls up the picture Alex sent him, the fingers of his free hand wrapping around his half-hard cock to stroke it lightly before skimming down passed his balls to tease at his hole.

It’s not long before the dry press of his fingertips isn’t enough, so he draws his knees up toward his chest and squeezes some lube onto his fingers before bringing them back to his hole.

Between Alex’s scorching hot selfie and everything they’ve talked about today, Michael is buzzing with anticipation as he efficiently works himself open. By the time he’s got a fourth finger pushing passed his rim, he’s a writhing mess, his cock so hard he’s a little worried he’ll spill before Alex even gets here.

The plug is cold when Michael finally lines it up with his hole and works it in, making him gasp. He clenches around it once it’s settled inside him, its solid weight filling him up and holding him open until Alex is ready for him. His cock drools lazily against his belly just thinking about what Alex will do with him. God, he can’t wait for him to get here.

It’s not long before there’s a knock at Michael’s door.

Michael feels his heart rate spike, excitement and anticipation blooming inside him. He heads to the door immediately, feeling the plug he’s wearing shift inside him with every step he takes.

Alex is waiting for him when he opens the door, somehow even more beautiful than Michael remembers. He’s still wearing the same leather jacket from earlier, and Michael notices that his dark brown eyes are now rimmed in black. It’s a great fucking look, made complete by his silver septum piercing and black skinny jeans.

“Hey,” Alex smiles, eyes flicking down to take in Michael’s state of undress. He’d agonized a little over what to wear before deciding on a pair of soft navy sweats and nothing else. The thought of putting on a flannel and squeezing into a nice pair of jeans after working a plug that size into himself did not compute, and besides—if all goes well, his clothes will be lying in a crumpled heap at the foot of his bed in a few minutes anyway.

Regardless, Alex seems to like what he sees.

“Hey yourself,” Michael says, leaning against the door frame as he really lets himself appreciate the view.

“Can I come in?” Alex asks, and it takes every ounce of Michael’s self control not to say, You can come wherever you want.

“Yeah,” he answers instead, pushing the door open wider to let Alex in.

Alex steps over the threshold, but pauses only a few steps inside.

“Wow,” he says as he looks around Michael’s apartment.

Michael tries to see what Alex is noticing and is hit with a sudden wave of self-conscious dread. He’d tidied up the space around his bed, but in his haste to get ready he’d forgotten the chaotic mess of papers he’d been grading that he’d left all over the couch and coffee table.

“Sorry the place is kind of a mess,” he apologizes, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What? No, it’s fine, I just—you have so many plants,” Alex clarifies, gesturing around the room.

“Oh,” Michael says, relaxing a little.

He looks around once more, taking in the vibrant green leaves sprouting from the pots on the shelves above his desk and scattered elsewhere throughout his space as if seeing them for the first time. It’s maybe a lot more than the average person would have in an apartment this size, but for reasons he could never quite understand, plants have always made Michael feel at home.

“It’s like a greenhouse in here,” Alex notes, voice soft and full of wonder. “How do you manage to keep them alive? I’m pretty sure I’ve killed every plant I’ve ever touched.”

“I’m an agricultural engineer,” Michael says by way of an explanation.

“Oh, really?” Alex asks, sounding intrigued, spinning around to face him.

“Yeah,” Michael says, huffing a laugh. “My grad school stipend doesn’t exactly cover the bills though, hence the second job.”

“Mmm, gotcha,” Alex nods.

Michael stares at him a moment before he takes a step closer.

“I’m feeling a little underdressed here,” he says. “Can I get your coat?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Alex says, shrugging off his leather jacket and revealing the thin maroon sweater he’s wearing underneath. Michael tries not to get distracted by the way the fabric clings to his chest as he takes the jacket from him and hangs it carefully on one of the pegs by the door.

By the time he turns around, Alex has migrated to the guitar case leaning against the arm of his couch.

“Do you play?” Alex asks, looking over his shoulder when he hears Michael approaching.

“When I have the time,” he answers, coming to stand at Alex’s side. “You?”

“Yeah,” Alex smiles. “I, um, I actually own a record store not too far from here where I give lessons.”

“Oh shit, really?” Michael asks, lighting up. It’s been a while since he listened to music off a record, but after countless summers learning how to fix cars at Old Man Sanders’ junkyard, he has nothing but fond memories of them. “Wait, I think I’ve passed it on the way to my sister’s place—is it Manes Street Music?”

“Mhmm,” Alex says, smile brightening as he turns to face Michael. He gives Michael a considering look before he adds, “You should come by sometime, if you’re interested. Let me return the favor with some album recommendations.”

“Definitely interested,” Michael says at once—spending more time with Alex isn’t exactly a hard sell—but the plug that’s been nudging up against his prostate for the last ten minutes has him taking a small, pointed step closer and adding, “Though… I was kind of hoping you could return the favor another way.”

Alex’s eyes flick down toward Michael’s mouth, lingering for a moment before he meets Michael’s gaze. He must see the desperation on Michael’s face because Alex’s eyes darken and his lips curl into a slow, smug smile that makes Michael’s heart race with anticipation.

“Oh yeah?” Alex asks, tilting his head to one side like he doesn’t remember why he’s here, in Michael’s apartment. “How would you like me to start?”

Michael takes a deep breath, the possibilities a little overwhelming, before Alex licks his lips and makes his mind up for him.

“Kiss me,” Michael answers.

Alex is all too happy to oblige.

The second their lips touch, Michael feels weak with need. If he thought the simple brush of their fingers was powerful, it has nothing on this—Alex’s lips are impossibly soft and the subtle scent of Alex’s cologne is so intoxicating that Michael has the wild hope that he’ll be able to smell Alex on his pillow after he leaves.

Alex makes a wounded noise in the back of his throat when Michael buries his fingers in his silky brown hair, and Michael can’t help but chase that sound right into his mouth. Alex opens for him easily, his arms tightening around Michael’s waist as he deepens the kiss, teasing the roof of Michael’s mouth with his tongue.

Michael feels Alex’s hands on the bare skin of his waist then, his touch firm and grounding as he pulls Michael closer until they’re chest to chest. The fabric of Alex’s sweater is a little rough against his nipples, which has Michael panting into Alex’s mouth in no time, his fingers twisting a little tighter into the short, fine hair at the base of Alex’s neck.

It’s a long moment before Michael pulls away with a soft, slick sound, blood still rushing in his ears as he catches his breath.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been thinking about doing that,” Michael murmurs against his mouth, thumb brushing against the stubble on his jaw.

“I think maybe I do,” Alex says, pulling back to look him in the eye with an amused expression. “What was it you said when you approached me?” Alex pauses for a beat, as if he needs to think about it before finishing, “Oh, right. ‘See something you like?’” in a tone that is at least 25% more suggestive than the one Michael is sure he used in the shop earlier that day.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Michael says, rather unconvincingly. “Was just doing my job.”

“Bullshit,” Alex says, and a wolfish grin breaks out on Michael’s face.

“Okay, you got me,” he says, bumping his nose along Alex’s cheek. “The second I saw you, I knew I had to find out if your mouth is as soft as it looks.”

“Well?” Alex asks. “Is it?”

“Mm, I don’t know,” Michael teases. “I think you might need to kiss me again, just to make sure.”

Alex shakes his head at him, an amused smile playing at his lips. “Come here,” he says as he hooks a hand around the back of Michael’s neck to pull him in for another kiss, and then another.

Michael groans unabashedly into his mouth when he feels Alex’s cock, hot and every bit as hard as his own, brush against him, but it turns into a whimper as Alex’s fingers dip below the rolled waistband on his sweats to palm his ass, stopping just shy of slipping between his cheeks.

“Tell me what you want, Michael,” Alex says when they part, and Michael can’t suppress the shudder of anticipation that rolls through him.

“Told you already,” Michael answers. “Whatever you want.”

Alex traps his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment.

“Okay,” Alex breathes. “Is it okay if I boss you around a little?”

Michael feels his cock thicken even more at the thought.

“Um, yes,” he says, communicating his enthusiasm with just a single syllable.

“Safeword?”

“Traffic lights work for me.”

“Okay,” Alex smiles. “And how do you feel about edging?”

“Love it,” Michael answers. “Feels good to hand over the reins to someone else like that for a while. Quiets the noise a little, you know?”

“Is that something you want tonight?” Alex asks, squeezing his ass a little as he pulls him closer. “For me to quiet the noise for you?”

Michael bites his bottom lip as he nods.

“Okay then,” Alex says, slowly extricating his hands from Michael’s pants. “Take me to your bed.”

Michael nods again before he takes him by the hand and leads him a little further back into his apartment, toward the corner where his bed is tucked away.

“What’s that?” Alex asks when they get there, taking a step closer to Michael’s bed.

“It’s a toy mount,” Michael answers as he steps in front of him, running his palms along his muscled shoulders and linking his arms around his neck.

The mount sits in the middle of the bed, Michael’s galaxy dildo sticking out of the slit in the black cushion. He’d felt a little ridiculous buying it, but (short of fucking himself with his powers) he’s found it really is the next best thing; It’s sturdy enough to keep the toy in place no matter how rough he rides it, and its design allows for deeper penetration than he’d get sticking the suction cup base to the wall or the floor.

Besides, Michael’s been working at Pandora’s long enough to have heard a few things and the last thing he needs is to lose his security deposit because of a fucking dildo.

Alex looks at him with wide, interested eyes and Michael shrugs, dropping his voice low when he says, “You said you wanted to watch, so I thought I’d give you a show.”

“Jesus Christ,” Alex says, gaze dragged back toward the bed over Michael’s shoulder. Michael guides him back gently by the chin until Alex is looking at him again.

“Want to see me take it for a ride?” Michael drawls, and Alex knocks noses with him in his haste to get his mouth on his.

Alex crowds Michael backward until his knees hit the bed. With a gentle shove, Michael lands on his ass, the plug inside him shifting abruptly and making him gasp. Alex is on him in an instant, his mouth slick and warm against his own while his fingers map the surface of his chest, dragging lightly through his chest hair. His knee plants itself on the bed between Michael’s spread thighs and Michael can’t help but clench his fist in the front of Alex’s sweater and press forward with his hips, desperate for some friction.

Despite their passionate start, Alex pulls away to trail slow, wet kisses down his jaw, content now to drag it out, and it isn’t long before Michael cracks.

“Please,” Michael gasps, and he feels Alex smile against the side of his neck.

“Begging for it already?” Alex asks him right before he dips his tongue into the hollow of his throat. Michael tries not to whine, but he’s fighting a losing battle.

“In my defense,” Michael pants, “you’re very hot and I’ve been hard for, like, over an hour at this point.” He looks up at Alex with pleading eyes when he pulls back to see his face, a smile still tugging at his lips.

“Fair enough,” Alex says, propping himself up with one elbow. Almost like he can’t resist, Alex reaches out and rakes his fingers through Michael’s chaotic mess of curls. Michael lets his eyes slip closed at the feeling, melting a little under Alex’s touch. “Where’s the lube?”

“Other side of the mount,” Michael answers without opening his eyes, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the far side of the bed. “There’s condoms too.”

“Then stay put,” Alex says, kissing him once before he stands up.

The room feels colder without Alex’s warmth against his chest, but he’s back in just a moment. Michael opens his eyes to see him tossing a condom and the bottle of lube on the bed beside him before he pulls Michael’s sweatpants down his legs.

Michael’s hard cock slaps against his belly as it’s freed, flushed and shining with precome, and Michael can’t resist the urge to wrap his fingers around it and stroke himself under Alex’s gaze. Michael isn’t sure what turns him on more, the slide of his fist around his dick or the way Alex is looking at him like he wants to swallow him whole.

“So fucking beautiful,” Alex whispers before he wraps his hand over Michael’s around his shaft and dips down to seal his lips over the tip.

“Oh god,” Michael whines, tossing his head back against the mattress as Alex starts to suck him. The wet heat of his mouth is nearly too much, and Michael’s other hand shoots down between his legs to grab Alex’s shoulder, his fingers bunching up the fabric. “Alex.”

Alex hums around his dick and takes him deeper, sucking hard on the upstroke and driving Michael further out of his mind with every bob of his head. It feels like barely a minute goes by before Michael’s hips start to twitch of their own accord, desperate with the growing need to bury his cock in Alex’s throat until he comes.

Alex anchors his free arm across Michael’s hips to keep him still, causing the plug he’s wearing to press harder against his prostate as he squirms and tries to rock against the bed.

“Fuck, Alex,” Michael pants, fingers gripping his sweater tighter. He groans again, his hole clenching harder around the toy inside him before he warns, “I appreciate the foreplay, but m’gonna come if you do that much longer.”

Alex pulls off of his cock, his lips shining in the light as he smirks up at him.

“Not without permission you’re not,” he says, gripping the base of Michael’s cock tightly between his thumb and forefinger to stave off his impending orgasm. Michael groans when he does it, but the sound is quickly muffled by Alex’s mouth on his.

“Did you prep yourself enough or do you want me to finger you before you get started?” Alex asks him when he’s through kissing him.

Michael nearly laughs then. “I don’t know,” he says, taking Alex by the wrist and guiding his hand lower between his legs. “What do you think?”

“Michael,” Alex moans when his fingers brush the base of the plug between Michael’s cheeks, eyes wild with desire and surprise. “Let me see.”

Michael rolls over onto his stomach and lifts up onto his knees, arching his back a little as he presents himself without shame.

“Fuck,” Alex says softly but with feeling as he grabs hold of Michael’s cheeks and spreads him open for a better look.

Michael might be embarrassed at the scrutiny if he wasn’t so fucking turned on by it. His cock throbs where it hangs between his legs and he can’t help but tighten up around the unyielding plug inside him.

“Saw you looking at a similar one at Pandora’s earlier,” Michael says breathlessly as Alex begins to tug on it, no doubt watching the way his rim stretches around it. “You like it?”

“I love it,” Alex says. He teases him a moment more, drawing the plug out an inch or so and then pushing it back inside him just to hear Michael whine, but soon he removes it from his ass and sets it down on the bed.

Michael feels uncomfortably empty without something inside him. His hole clenches greedily around nothing as he waits for Alex to uncap the lube and spread some over his fingers, his forehead pressed flush against the mattress behind his folded arms as he waits.

He feels two of Alex’s fingers sink into him, so easily he adds another right away. Alex spreads them as he fucks him, testing to see how open he is before he curls them, seeking out his prostate.

“Ah,” Michael gasps when he finds it, pleasure burning through him bright and hot. “Ah, fuck, Alex.”

“Right there, huh?” Alex asks, the pads of his fingers gently rubbing that spot.

Michael moans in reply and shifts his hips back, his knees sliding further apart as Alex continues to finger him. With his head bowed down against the mattress, Michael can see his cock dripping precome onto his clean sheets. He probably should’ve laid out a towel, but he can’t bring himself to care about that now.

Just when Michael is about to say “screw it” to his whole plan and beg Alex to just fuck him already, Alex eases off his prostate and asks, “Are you ready for it now? Or do you want another?”

Michael shakes his head; He was pretty thorough when he prepped himself earlier.

“I’m good,” Michael pants, peeling himself off the mattress after Alex finally withdraws from his body.

When Michael turns around and reaches for the lube, he catches sight of Alex, still fully clothed and standing at the foot of Michael’s bed. He remembers what Alex told him earlier about his injury and wonders if that’s why he’s still dressed. Before things progress any further, Michael decides he should check in with him.

Leaving the lube on the bed, Michael rises up on his knees and pulls Alex into a kiss, softer than Alex is expecting.

“Everything okay?” Alex asks him when he pulls away, his palms resting comfortably on Michael’s sides.

“Mhmm,” Michael nods. “Before we continue though, is there anything you want me to know? Anywhere you don’t want me to touch you?”

Alex looks away and takes a breath, a puff of air exiting his open mouth on the exhale. Michael gives him all the time he needs to find the words to answer him.

“I think I’ll keep my prosthetic on…” Alex answers, meeting his eyes again, “but there’s nowhere you’re not allowed to touch me.”

Michael nods in understanding. “Can I take this off then?” he asks, smiling as he tugs lightly on the hem of Alex’s sweater. “It’s a great color on you, but I think it’d look better on my floor.”

Alex laughs at the terrible line before he says, “Yeah, sorry. Would’ve taken it off earlier, but you distracted me.”

There’s a quip on the end of Michael’s tongue at the assertion that Michael was the one distracting him just a few minutes ago, but it dies in his throat when Alex strips his sweater off and tosses it somewhere behind him.

Alex is somehow even more beautiful like this; His skin is smooth and golden, with just a light dusting of hair over his broad, toned chest. His jeans sit distractingly low on his hips, and Michael’s fingers itch to bury themselves in Alex’s hair again, already mussed from the careless way he pulled off his sweater.

“Is that better?” Alex asks him, pulling Michael to him by the waist until they’re skin to skin, close enough that Michael can feel the hard line of Alex’s cock pressed up against him.

“Much,” Michael answers. He runs his hands through Alex’s hair before they slide down his neck and over Alex’s pecs, thumbing his nipples as he leans down to kiss his collarbone. Alex shudders a little when he does it, so he does it again.

“Good,” Alex belatedly replies, sounding distracted as his grip on Michael’s waist shifts and tightens. “Is there anything I should know?”

“No, you can touch me anywhere,” Michael assures him, tongue sneaking out to taste Alex’s heated skin.

“Okay then,” Alex says. “Where do you want me?”

“Where don’t I want you?” Michael muses between kisses, and it’s only when he feels Alex’s chest rumble with laughter beneath his lips that he knows for sure he’s said it out loud.

“To watch you, I mean,” Alex clarifies. “Do you want me on the bed with you, or…?”

He’s about to say he doesn’t care when his eyes catch on the chair he keeps in the corner. It usually serves as the place he piles his laundry until he absolutely has to deal with it, but it’s free of clothes now and it gives Michael an idea; He’d love it if Alex stayed close enough to touch him, but the thought of him sitting back and enjoying the show where he can’t touch him is somehow even hotter.

“You’d have a nice view from that chair over there,” he answers, pulling back to gauge Alex’s reaction. “Or you can sit on the bed if you want. Your choice.”

Alex glances at it over his shoulder and considers his options.

“Do you mind if I move it a little closer?”

“No, put it wherever you want,” Michael tells him.

“Alright then,” Alex says. He lets go of Michael to retrieve the chair, placing it about two feet away from the bed before he takes a seat.

While he does it, Michael pulls the mount a little closer to the edge of the bed and pops open the cap on the lube. He pours some onto his open palm and smooths it over the galaxy dildo, getting it nice and wet. His eyes flick up toward Alex’s face as he lets his hand slide up and down the dildo’s thick, colorful shaft. He finds Alex watching his hands intently, his own twitching where they rest on his spread thighs, just inches away from where his erection is straining against the front of his black denim jeans.

Michael waits until Alex looks well and truly distracted before he asks, “Which way do you want me to face?”

Alex’s eyes jump to Michael’s, blinking once before his question seems to register.

“Towards me,” he answers. “I want to be able to see your face while you fuck yourself.”

Liquid heat rushes through Michael at Alex’s words. He bites his lip and nods eagerly, throwing his left leg over one side of the mount.

Michael hovers over the tip of the dildo and reaches between his legs to hold it in place as he lines it up with his hole. He bears down on it, gasping the moment its blunt head pops inside him, stretching his rim wide, and he sinks onto its thick length slowly, one hand braced on the front of the mount to keep himself steady.

“Jesus fuck,” Michael curses when he’s finally seated, stuffed as full as he’s ever been with his knees flush against the bed. He breathes through the stretch, letting himself adjust before he even thinks about moving.

He doesn’t realize he’s closed his eyes until he hears Alex say his name. His eyes snap open again to see Alex leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“How’s it feel?” Alex asks him.

“Fucking huge,” Michael answers, voice a little tight. He experimentally rolls his hips, and when the dildo shifts inside him, Michael feels it right where he wants it. He bites his lip to keep from crying out at the little burst of pleasure, but a whimper escapes him anyway. “It’s good, though,” Michael reassures him a moment later, starting to grind his hips in slow, shallow circles. “So fucking good.”

Alex watches Michael hungrily as he rocks his hips, gently at first, then faster and harder until he’s bouncing up and down on the thick cock inside him, the mattress squeaking painfully beneath him. While he does it, Alex unzips his jeans and starts to palm himself through his grey boxer briefs, more of a tease than anything else. Michael’s mouth waters as he watches Alex’s precome bleed slowly through the fabric, forming a wet spot near the head of his dick. Fuck, he wants to know what he tastes like.

Michael lets those thoughts distract him while he fucks himself until Alex decides to give him directions.  

“Tilt your hips back and slow down a little,” he says, and when Michael’s eyes snap to his, he can see that Alex is trying not to smile.

“Alex,” Michael groans, knowing exactly what kind of torture that will be, but he does it anyway without further complaint.

Michael shifts his weight, bracing his hands behind him on the mount as he tilts his hips backward. In this position, the dildo puts more direct pressure on Michael’s prostate, making him groan and curse as he grinds down onto it over and over again. His mouth falls open, helpless to stop the sounds tumbling from his lips as his pleasure rises.

“That’s it, baby, get that dick right where you need it,” Alex says, eyes jumping between Michael’s face and where the dildo is moving in and out of his hole. “That feel good?”

“Yeah,” he pants, his thighs already beginning to tremble. “Fuck, yeah.”

Michael keeps riding the dildo as Alex instructs, speeding up and then slowing down or stopping altogether when he starts to get close, his orgasm kept tantalizingly out of reach. Every minute of it is the sweetest agony Michael’s ever felt and he’s so lost to the sensation that eventually his head tips back to hang between his shoulders as he fucks himself.

Alex calls his name then, demanding his attention. It takes effort, but Michael does manage to raise his head enough to look at him.

“Eyes on me, remember?” Alex reminds him gently, and Michael can see Alex’s hand moving where he’s shoved it down the front of his boxer briefs.

“Yes, sir,” Michael replies, just to see what Alex will do, and a smirk breaks out on Michael’s face when he catches the heated look Alex throws him.

As he watches Michael, Alex gives his cock a few more firm strokes before he finally pulls himself out where Michael can see him. When he gets a look at him for the first time, Michael is sure he’s never wanted to suck a dick so bad in his life; He’d known Alex was big after feeling him hard against his thigh, but to see him wet and flushed a mouthwatering shade of pink is something else entirely.

“Fuck,” Michael says, unable to tear his eyes away. He shifts his weight, leaning forward to sit up straighter, his hips slowing to a dirty grind. “Knew you’d have a nice dick. Why don’t you bring it over here?”

“Why?” Alex asks, somehow managing to sound smug and breathless at the same time as he jerks himself nice and slow from root to tip. Michael watches, practically mesmerized, as his thumb catches a fresh drop of precome leaking from the head and spreads it down his shaft. “Is one dick not enough? You want your mouth full too?”

Michael flushes, but nods, too far gone to play coy.

Alex gives him an assessing look before he stands up and crosses the short distance between them. Michael expects him to feed him his cock right away, but Alex surprises him with a kiss instead, one hand curled around the side of Michael’s neck.

“Don’t make me come,” Alex tells him when he pulls away.

Michael makes a disappointed sound. “Why not?”

“Because I said so,” Alex answers, stroking Michael’s full bottom lip with his thumb. Michael flicks his tongue out to lick it and Alex indulges him, watching Michael’s mouth as he slides the tip of his finger inside. “And because I don’t want to come til I’m inside you.”

Michael moans around Alex’s finger, sucking it harder. He knows Alex isn’t expecting Michael to let him fuck him raw—he brought a condom over after all—but the thought of Alex coming inside him with no barrier between them pops into his head anyway. He’s never let anyone do that to him before, too worried about the unknown quirks of his alien biology to risk it, but it’s suddenly all he can think about.

How would it feel?

Would Alex be into it?

Would he lean back to watch his come leak out of me when he’s finished, or would he rather plug me up after so I won’t spill a drop?

“Is that alright with you?” Alex asks, oblivious to Michael’s thoughts as he pulls his thumb from Michael’s mouth.

Michael has to take a breath before he answers, “Yeah, come on.”

Alex shuffles forward until his legs are flush with the bed, as close to Michael as he can get without climbing onto it with him. His bed is low enough that Alex’s hips are at the perfect height as Michael leans forward and braces his hands against the mattress below him so he can comfortably take Alex’s cock into his mouth. The adjustment to his position eases the pressure off his prostate, but the way he’s pitched forward makes his cock drag against the soft fabric of the cushion between his thighs, which is a blessing and a curse.

Once he’s ready, Michael begins to move, thrusting his hips back onto the toy filling him up and then rocking forward to sink down further onto Alex’s cock. The slide of both of them inside him is indescribable—an inexorable give and take that leaves Michael feeling perfectly used and hot all over, sweat pooling at the dip of his lower back and dampening his curls. It’s not his most coordinated blow job, but Alex doesn’t seem to mind.

“God,” Alex groans, swiping his fingers through Michael’s hair to push his curls out of his eyes so he can watch his cock slide back and forth between Michael’s spit-slick lips.

“So fucking good at this, Michael. Look how well you take it,” Alex says a moment later. Warmth spreads through Michael at the compliment, blood darkening his skin. “You ever done this before? Been fucked in two holes at once like this?”

Michael groans and shakes his head as much as he can. He’s thought about it, sure— wondered what it would feel like for a few guys to take turns with him, to be fucked while someone else uses his mouth—but he’s never had the opportunity. What they’re doing now isn’t exactly the fantasy he’s watched play out in porn, but with his ass stuffed full and Alex heavy on his tongue, Michael has no fucking complaints.

“You like it?” Alex asks him.

A shiver runs down Michael’s spine and he hums around Alex’s cock as he rocks back and forth, looking up at him beneath his lashes.

“Yeah, ‘course you do,” Alex says, fingers running through his hair once more. His palm stays there, a heavy weight on the back of Michael’s head as he sucks him, not quite guiding him along, but more reminding him he could if he wanted to.

Michael takes him down as far as he can go, showing off for him a little, and Alex curses, his fingers tightening around Michael’s curls until his hair is pulled taught in his grip. It just strikes that delicate balance between pleasure and pain, and Michael moans sharply, his cock pulsing between his thighs as he fucks himself harder.

“You like that too, huh?” Alex asks him, tugging on his hair once more, pulling him that little bit further onto his cock, and Michael doesn’t have to look to know he’s making a mess of the cushion beneath him, leaking precome all over it with every passing second.

It feels so good Michael doesn’t want Alex to stop, wants him to keep a firm grip on his hair while he uses his mouth, but he’s afraid it’ll push him over the edge if he lets him. Michael pulls off of Alex’s cock instead, resting a hand on his jean-clad thigh, and he feels Alex’s grip on his hair relax instantly.

“Color?” he asks.

“Green,” Michael gasps wetly against the soft skin of Alex’s lower belly, chest heaving as he sucks much-needed air into his lungs.

Alex hums and starts to pet his hair again as he catches his breath, so gently this time Michael thinks he might cry for a second.

“What do you need, Michael?” Alex asks him after a moment.

When he doesn’t answer right away, he feels Alex’s palm on his cheek, tilting his face up so Alex can look at him. Michael isn’t sure what Alex sees in his eyes, but it must reassure him that Michael really isn’t hurt or upset because he watches the concern on Alex’s face melt away, satisfaction rising in its place.

“Have you had enough of your toys?” Alex asks him, thumb tenderly stroking Michael’s cheek. “Do you need me to fuck you now?”

“Yes,” Michael answers, face burning as he grinds helplessly on the silicone dick filling him up. “Please, Alex, ‘m so close. Please let me come.”

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Alex whispers, leaning down to kiss him soundly. “I’ll give you what you need.”

Michael nods and kisses him again, relief flooding his system at Alex’s reassurance. His thighs tremble as he climbs off the mount, a soft hiss escaping his mouth as the dildo slips out of him. He feels so open and empty without it filling him up, but Alex doesn’t give him long to dwell on it.

“Come to the edge of the bed,” Alex instructs him. “On your back.”

Michael does as he’s told, sitting down and scooting closer to Alex until his ass is on the edge of his bed before he lies down flat against the mattress. He feels Alex’s hands on the backs of his thighs next, pushing them back and spreading them wide open.

“Jesus, Michael, fuck,” Alex says once he gets a look at Michael’s well-fucked hole. One hand disappears from Michael’s thigh and seconds later Michael moans as Alex slips three fingers into him like it’s nothing. ”So fucking hot,” he adds, thrusting them gently in and out of him. “Wish you could see how wrecked you are right now.”

“I can feel it, trust me,” Michael says weakly in response.

Alex curls his fingers inside him suddenly and Michael gasps, his back arching off the bed.

“Alex, please,” Michael whines, his cock throbbing where it drools against his belly. “No more teasing.”

Alex hovers over Michael’s face for a moment before he kisses him, nice and slow and deep. He swallows the wounded noise Michael makes when he lets his fingers slip free.

“As you wish,” Alex murmurs against his lips before he pulls away, and if Michael wasn’t feeling so strung out, he’d call him out for being a fucking nerd.

Instead, he watches through hooded eyes as Alex rolls a condom on his dick and slicks himself up with the lube he’d left on the bed. He shoves his jeans and underwear a little further down his hips before he holds himself steady in his hand and lines the head of his cock up with Michael’s hole.

Alex moans as he finally guides his cock inside him, sinking deep in a single stroke. He’s not as thick as the dildo Michael’s been riding, but he feels so much hotter, and Michael wraps his legs tight around Alex’s hips to keep him there.

He’s grateful when Alex doesn’t make him wait for it, barely giving him a second to adjust before he draws his hips back and snaps them forward, driving his cock back inside him as deep as it’ll go.

“Uh, fuck,” Michael groans sharply. “That’s it, baby, fuck me like you mean it.”

Alex doesn’t disappoint. He grinds his hips against Michael’s in a tight circle before he pulls back and starts to thrust, smirking as the movement makes Michael keen.

He keeps it up for another minute, watching Michael’s face with greedy eyes, before he seems to get an idea. He leans back and coaxes Michael’s legs from his waist, pushing his thighs toward his chest instead, practically folding him in half.

“Oh my fucking god,” Michael gasps, brow drawn tight as he squirms on Alex’s dick; With his thighs held closer together, Alex feels even bigger inside him. He can’t get any leverage like this either, can really only lie there and take what Alex gives him. After riding that dildo for so long, it’s exactly what Michael wants.

“Good?” Alex asks him, voice rough when he starts to move again, slow at first, but steadily gaining speed.

“Like you have to fucking ask,” Michael shoots back.

Alex laughs as he leans down to kiss him, tongue sliding along his for the briefest moment before he rises back up and gets to work.

The rhythm Alex sets is hard and fast, pushing desperate, little sounds out of Michael’s mouth with every rock of his hips. It’s all Michael can do to hang on for the ride, his fingers sliding along Alex’s sweat-slick skin as he seeks purchase on any part of him he can reach. Alex keeps his eyes trained on Michael’s face as he fucks him, hips searching for the angle that’ll have him writhing on his cock in no time at all.

It’s not long before he finds it.

“Yeah, there it is,” Alex says as Michael shouts and curses, his back arching off the bed as Alex hits that tender spot inside him again. “Think you can come like this?”

Michael nods, desperate tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. The pleasure is overwhelming already, tightening his gut as it warms him from the inside out, and his cock is so hard it hurts.

“Then go on, baby,” Alex tells him, finally giving him permission. “Take what you need, I’ll be right behind you.”

Michael nearly sobs as he comes untouched a minute later, his cock jerking messily against his chest and stomach. Alex moans loudly when it happens, Michael’s hole clutching tight around his cock as his body trembles with the force of it. Michael’s eyes slip closed as he comes down, Alex’s hips continuing their steady rhythm between his thighs as he desperately seeks to follow him.

He feels fingers dragging through the mess that’s streaked across his chest a second before he feels them at his lips, wet and sticky with come. Michael moans weakly and opens his mouth for Alex to shove them inside. He eagerly licks them clean, sucking them like he did Alex’s cock, and it’s with the bitter taste of himself on his tongue and Alex’s fingers inching toward the back of his throat that Michael feels Alex’s hips finally stutter and grind to a stop, fucking him so full Michael is sure he’ll be feeling it for days.

When Alex pulls his fingers from Michael’s mouth, they’re replaced by his tongue a moment later as Alex’s body covers his. They trade sloppy, well-fucked kisses until Alex’s softening cock slips free. Michael whines at the sensation, missing the feeling of being full, and Alex smiles against his mouth.

“Sorry,” Alex whispers when their lips part.

Michael laughs a little hysterically, eyes still closed. “You don’t get to apologize for fucking me that good,” he says, voice raw.

“Good, huh?” Alex asks, sounding smug as he drags his fingers through Michael’s hair.

“You’re lucky I haven’t passed out yet,” Michael confesses, the fading pleasure of his orgasm making him lazy and slow, his tired muscles aching for rest.

“You sure you’re not about to?” Alex asks, and Michael can feel his thumb brush against one of his closed eyelids.

“No,” Michael laughs, opening his eyes to see Alex smiling at him. “Should probably clean up first, though.”

“Mm, yeah,” Alex says. “Bathroom?”

“Back by the kitchen,” Michael answers.

“Got it,” Alex nods. He stands up and walks away, holding the waistband of his jeans in one hand to keep them from falling down .

Michael sits up and looks over at the mount still sitting on the bed. He doesn’t quite have the energy to strip the washable case off or clean the dildo, so he picks the whole thing up and sets it on the floor to deal with in the morning. He also shoves the lube and condoms back where they belong, and when Alex comes back with a wet washcloth, he lets him clean up the sticky mess between his thighs.

“You gonna take your pants off and stay a while?” Michael teases him when he’s finished, head propped up by his right hand where he lies in the middle of the bed.

He expects Alex to laugh or roll his eyes, but he bites his lip instead as he considers his question seriously.

“Yeah, fuck it,” Alex decides after a moment, stripping off his jeans and shoes before he gets to work on taking off his prosthetic. The engineer in Michael is curious how it works, but that feels like a question for another day, so he crawls under the covers instead and waits for Alex to join him.

Michael snuggles up to him when he does, eager to feel Alex’s bare skin under his hands again. They share a single pillow as they lie facing each other on their sides, staring at each other for just a moment before Michael finally presses in close and brings their lips together.

They kiss like that for a while, soft and unhurried, until Alex pulls away. Michael lazily follows the curve of his jaw with his mouth, tired but not quite done with him yet.

“Mm, what time is it?” Alex asks, pulling him out of the moment a little.

“Uh,” Michael says, lifting his head off the pillow to look over Alex’s shoulder at the alarm clock on his nightstand. “About eleven.”

Alex lets out a soft, unhappy groan. “It’s getting late. I should probably get going.”

“You don’t have to,” Michael says, letting a fingertip trace a mindless path across Alex’s chest. “I’m not kicking you out.”

Alex bites his lip as he considers his next words, which is more distracting than it has any right to be.

“I didn’t really come prepared for a sleepover,” Alex admits at last.

“You can borrow some clothes if you want,” Michael offers. “We’re about the same size.”

“No, I mean… I have a routine, with my leg,” he explains, a little sheepish. “I don’t have what I need here.”

“Oh,” Michael says, feeling a little stupid for not thinking of that himself. “Okay.” He hesitates a brief moment before he adds, “You should come prepared next time, then.”

“Next time?” Alex asks, a hopeful smile tugging at his lips.

“Mhmm,” Michael hums, shifting closer to press a delicate kiss against his lips. “I make a pretty decent omelet. It’d be a shame for you to miss out when we do this again.”

Alex’s smile widens. “‘When’? Not ‘if’?” he asks, throwing Michael’s words from earlier right back at him.

“Shut up,” Michael laughs before pushing Alex back against the mattress, determined to kiss that smirk off his face.

Alex is happy to let him try.

[marshmallow-phd]

Nine Little Letters

Genre: College AU, Fake Dating AU, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before AU

Inspired By: This graphic made by @rcse-tvler​

Pairing: EXO x Reader

Summary: Just when you thought life was done shoving you down, it got much, much worse. After finding out that your latest crush was already in a relationship, you did what you always did when emotions ran high: you wrote a letter. Signed and sealed, you put it away with the eight other letters you’d written to past one-sided loves, never to be seen again. That is, until a mix up accidentally sends those letters out to their respective recipients and you find yourself in the middle of one confusing web of love. With fake relationships, insecurities, and revelations swirling around, things are bound to get a little messy.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11

The second letter you ever wrote was perhaps the most embarrassing of them all.

During the summer of your thirteenth year, Baekhyun had gone away to a summer camp that had lasted for over a month. Bored to tears due to the missing antics, you spent more time with your other friend, Yeonhee, though - as much as you loved her - her presence didn’t have the same level of comfort as Baekhyun’s did. You weren’t sure what the reason was, but there always seemed to be this invisible barrier between you and Yeonhee. You couldn’t get quite as close to her. There was so much relief the day that Baekhyun came back. But something else was there, too. Something that had been growing throughout the absence.

At first, you thought your heart was beating fast because you ran to the park where Baekhyun told you to meet him. You were excited - elated - to have your best friend back. When you saw him lying on the teeter-totter, you stopped. His skin was sun-kissed, hair a bit longer and tousled. You’d never realized how… handsome he was before. Your face was smiling before you knew it.

You liked him. That had to explain why you missed him so much, right? As soon as Baekhyun saw that you’d arrived, he lit up, jumping off the playground equipment and running towards you. He pulled you into a quick hug then stepped back, ruffling your hair.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“Come on.” He grabbed your hand and started pulling you away from the teeter-tatter. “Let’s go down to the creek!”

You followed him without hesitation, loving the feeling of his hand in yours. Later that night, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep because of this new information. At thirteen, you were a bit smarter than you were at ten, so you decided to put some feelers out. You would see if there was any chance that he felt the same way. The two of you were close, after all. The chance had to be there, didn’t it?

The answer was no. And you received that answer almost immediately. The next day Baekhyun went on and on about this girl he had met at camp. He talked about how funny she was and cute and playful. And beautiful. He wouldn’t stop talking about how pretty he found her. She was at a summer camp, for Pete’s sake, but somehow still managed to be soft and delicate and everything Baekhyun liked in girls. It felt like an uppercut punch to the jaw. You could be soft and delicate. You wore skirts and boots and cardigans. Your room was pastel colors! What was the difference between you and this girl he rambled on about?

Flashing back to Jongin and how much better you felt after writing him the letter, you sat down at the table while your parents were away at work and tried to see if it had the same effect.

 Dear Baekhyun,

How are you? I guess that’s an awkward thing to ask given how I always know how you are. You always tell me, whether you’re happy or sad or simply indifferent. You tell me everything. And I’ve always loved that, the fact that we could tell each other whatever we’re thinking. But lately, you’ve been telling me too much and I’ve been keeping quiet. You tell me so much about this girl you met at camp and how much you like her and what the two of you talked about on the phone last night and how you’ve made plans to meet up next week. You go on and on about her without seeing the hurt in my eyes. I stay silent because of that hurt. Because while you were away, I realized something. I realized that I like you. As more than just my best friend. I find myself wishing that you were talking about me that way. What does this girl have that I don’t, anyway? She sounds a lot like me. I even wondered at one point if you were secretly talking about me until you mentioned meeting up with her. You seem so happy, though. So, I wonder, should I say anything or should I just go on being just your friend? I guess I'll make the decision at the end of this letter. If I send it out or if I keep it hidden in my drawer. Do I come out and say it or do I risk forever thinking “What if?” Only time will really tell. Either way, I hope you’re happy. That’s most important.

Love,

(y/n)

 In the end, you decided not to mail it. Though you never met the girl from summer camp, Baekhyun ended up “dating” her for the fall semester of school - if it could be counted since they lived in different cities. He always went to see her, but she never made the same effort. That was why they broke up, according to Baekhyun. Though he never came to see you in the same light as far as you were aware, you found that you were able to move on, to see him once again simply as your friend. Perhaps the two of you were soulmates in the platonic way. You were thankful to your past self for not mailing out that letter. Where would your friendship be if you had sent it? Would there even still be a friendship?

“Okay, I know you’re not a professional or anything, but you’re even worse today. What’s going on?”

You blinked, coming out of your head just in time to watch your character crumple to the ground, dead. Great.

You weren’t the best at video games, but you found them fun and Sehun didn’t mind if you weren’t as good as him. He definitely carried the two of you in the team rounds.

“Nothing, I just have a lot on my mind.” Both the truth and a lie. You were mildly distracted at the moment. It was a small amount of connected things. Seeing Junmyeon with a girlfriend had conjured up some old insecurities. While you were fairly sure that you were over him, you were circling around your lack of love life - and lack of dating history. As in zero. Zip. A big old goose egg. Of course, when that happened, you tended to retreat into your books and movies. Which rom-coms you were going to binge tonight was currently at the forefront of your mind, held up by everything else.

“So, obviously, it’s not nothing,” Sehun pointed out over the headset. Touché.

“Okay, it’s not nothing, but it's not something you’d be interested in anyway.”

“Try me.”

You paused. “I was thinking about how I’ve never had a boyfriend, so I was going to watch romantic comedies tonight.”

Silence.

Well, not total silence since the video game was still on in the background, but there was no response from your partner. “Sehun?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m not that interested. But I also don’t see how watching movies about romance is a direct response to not having a boyfriend.”

You sighed as your character re-spawned and you continued with the game, covering Sehun from any surprise attacks as you inched closer to enemy territory. “They make me feel better.”

He took a pause to kill an enemy soldier before replying, “I still don’t get it. How can watching fake couples get together make you feel better? If you want a boyfriend, why don’t you go out and get one? It’s not like there isn’t a whole campus full of single guys.”

You scoffed. Yeah, right. Like it was that simple. There wasn’t a store or a catalogue that you could flip through and go “Oh, I’d like that one!” and have a boyfriend ready and raring to go. Although… someone should get on that revolutionary idea. It could be worth millions.

Part of you wanted to respond with “Fine, do you want to date me?” but you bit your tongue, knowing that you didn’t mean it. There had once been a time that you had thought about Sehun in that way. The two of you rarely saw each other in person. For a good year and a half, the two of you had been simple online buddies until you realized you lived in the same city. You’d invited Sehun along to outings with Baekhyun and Yeonhee, but they didn’t click very well, so it didn’t happen too often. After the first time you met Sehun, you thought he was cute. Que the letter.

 Dear Sehun.

I know you try to hide it, but you’re actually very sweet. And I know that you let me win sometimes. And you help me every chance you get. I like you because of that. Also, I never thought you would be cute. Is that bad? Do you think you could like me back? We could be that gamer couple. Those who play together, stay together, right?

Love,

(y/n).

 It was the cringiest of all your letters. Short, uninteresting, bland. After you wrote it, you realized quickly that those were the only reasons you liked him: his face and he was nice to you. Were your standards really that low? His letter always stayed at the bottom of the pile, hardly ever revisited. That was when you realized it was hard to truly like someone you didn’t know all that well. You still considered him a friend and could confide in him, but he didn’t make your comfortable triangle a square.

“Hey, (y/n)!” Baekhyun burst into your room with no warning. You jumped, letting out a rare curse into the headset.

“Baekhyun, what are you doing here?” On Saturdays he was usually busy giving piano lessons.

“And on that note, I’m out.” Sehun clicked off without a real goodbye. You shook your head. Boys.

You turned off your console and swiveled around in your chair. Baekhyun was seated at your vanity which made you nervous. He knew better than to go peeking into your things, but that hardly stopped him. And while he was aware of the letters’ existence, he was neither aware of his own nor where they were located.

“My pupil for the day canceled on me. They’re sick. I was bored so I came over. As per usual.” Looking over his shoulder at your mirror, he plucked off one of the pictures you had wedged into the frame. “Heard from your long-distance boyfriend lately?”

“Hardy, har-har.” You snatched the picture from him and replaced it. “He’s not my boyfriend and you know it.”

Zhang Yixing was your pen pal from high school. After seeing a flyer on one of the bulletin boards in the hallway, you jumped at the chance to communicate with someone from another country without really thinking about it. The partners were all chosen at random and you considered yourself quite lucky. The person you exchanged letters with was sweet and funny and really read what you wrote to him, always replying to your words before going into his own story. While life got in the way and the two of you weren’t able to exchange letters at the frequency you once had, you still received a surprise every so often.

And yes, before anyone asks, he was one of the nine. One look at his dimpled smile and charming eyes and anyone would be hooked. You’d giggled like crazy when you opened the letter junior year and his photo fell out. He’d wanted to show you the countryside school he’d volunteered at and the kids he’d helped. As cute as those children were, he was all you could look at. So, naturally, there was one letter you never sent. It didn’t make sense to send it. He was in an entirely different country. So, you used his letter as camouflage, keeping it on top at all times to hide the others underneath.

“And no, by the way. I haven’t gotten a letter for a little bit.”

“Too busy volunteering?” Baekhyun quipped.

“You could take a page out of his book, you know.”

“I do give back! I give free lessons all the time!”

Okay… that was true. Baekhyun did have a soft heart for kids that wanted to learn to play the piano but whose parents couldn't afford to pay for lessons. About twice a month on Sundays, he went to a local church and taught a class for anyone who wanted to join. It was actually kind of sweet. You’d gone a few times and he could be pretty adorable with the kids.

“Alright,” you said. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” Baekhyun pursed his lips and tapped a finger against his chin. His eyes slowly made their way around your room. He would smile when his eyes landed on pictures of the two of you or little souvenirs from your various adventures. Your room was like a scrapbook for the world to view. You enjoyed being surrounded by memories, like reading a book based on your life. “I’m kind of hungry.”

“Okay,” you laughed. “For what?”

He turned away from you, mostly still listening, but obviously distracted by something. “Let’s go to a grill.”

That suggestion sent sparks off in your brain. Your stomach, which had been neutral up until now, was roaring for the sizzling meat and spicy side dishes. In fact, you’d been distracted at the thought of a Korean grill that you didn’t notice Baekhyun’s hand twitching on the forbidden drawer. Before your brain could process what he was doing, the drawer was open. Baekhyun pulled the entire stack of letters out.

“Wow, you actually do keep all of these!”

“What the hell are you doing!” You bounced on him, tackling him down to the floor as you wrestled the envelopes from him. Once you finally pulled them free, you smacked his arm with the stack. “You jerk! You know those are private!”

He actually had the audacity to pout. “I just wanted to see!”

“They’re not for you to see!”

“Come on, (y/n),” Baekhyun sat up when you moved off him. You kept the envelopes close to your chest in case he tried for them again. “I thought I was your best friend.”

“Don’t you dare try to guilt trip me,” you snapped. “I have a right to my privacy. These aren’t meant for anyone else but me.”

“Fine.” He threw his hands up in defeat. “But you might want to find a better hiding spot. Let’s go eat.” He left your room, smiling to himself.

Grumbling to yourself, you placed the envelopes on your vanity. Later, you would find a better place to put them. For now, though, you draped a shirt over the stack so they were mostly covered.

You forgot about the letters for the most part by the time the two of you made it to the restaurant. Baekhyun had his moments where he didn’t think things through or he acted purely on impulse, but you could forgive those happenings. At least, when he was paying for dinner. On the way to the grill, you called Yeonhee to join.

“So, there’s this girl in my World Music three-oh-four class,” Baekhyun said right after shoving a stuffed sesame leaf into his mouth. “She’s really cute. And plays the cello. Her fingers are so nimble and small.”

“So, you going to ask her out?” you teased.

Baekhyun took some time to chew his food before answering. “Yeah. Actually, I think I might.”

“Does she seem interested in you?” Yeonhee asked. She was always the more practical one out of the three of you. She saw things in black and white. She either chose door number one or door number two. It was a philosophy she used in every aspect of her life. That realism rounded your little triangle out. Baekhyun was the carefree, never-knew-what-he-was-going-to-do-next type, you were the slightly anxiety-ridden, romantic daydreamer, and Yeonhee was the down-to-earth, rational one.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay. Then do it.” Yeonhee pulled her long, dark brown hair back into a scrunchy to keep it out of her face. To her, that was the end of it.

Baekhyun sent you a look, but he shrugged. “Alright. I’ll see her on Monday, so I’ll ask her to coffee then.”

Your phone vibrated against the table. Normally you would have ignored it, but given the lull in conversation, you checked to see the notification. It was a text from your mom.

I’m doing laundry. It looks like you have a full hamper. Do you want me to take some?

You smiled. You loved getting out of laundry. Yeah! Thank you!

Okay! A second text came through. Do you want me to take this shirt on the vanity, too?

Shirt? What- Panic swept through you. No! That’s okay! It’s clean.

Okay! Love you!

Love you, too!

Phew. That was close.

The rest of dinner was spent talking about classes and professors and new movies coming out. The three of you bounced from subject to subject, spending a good hour and half at the table slowly devouring the different meat courses. Multiple groups came and went while you sat there and enjoyed this time with your two best friends. When it was time to go home, Yeonhee volunteered to take you home since it was more on her way than Baekhyun’s. Once there, she parked in your driveway. Rounding the car, you bent down to tell her goodnight. A second or two later, Kyungsoo pulled into his parents’ driveway. He got out of his own car, eyes down on his phone. Noticing the two of you next door, he froze. There was an awkward tension as the exes made eye contact while you stood there like an unneeded third wheel on a bike. Finally, Kyungsoo broke the contact and went inside.

“Have you talked to him lately?” you asked.

Yeonhee shook her head. “Not at all. What’s the point? I ended it. Going back and opening the wound makes no sense.”

“Yeah, that’s understandable. I’ll, um, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

You straightened up and headed inside.

Yeonhee and Kyungsoo were a tragic story, at least in your eyes.

Kyungsoo was your next-door neighbor for your entire life though the two of you didn’t interact very often. He ran in different circles and seemed annoyed by Baekhyun most of the time - a pattern you were not blind to. But Yeonhee always took the time to talk to him if you happened to be in the front yard and crossed paths. Oblivious to what was going on while they conversed, you stood by, studying your neighbor.

He was handsome and sweet when he wasn’t frowning. In fact, his smile was quite stunning. And he was smart and, though rare, cracked jokes that had you in stitches. You found yourself admiring him. Imagine your shock when you discovered that he was dating one of your best friends. You were devastated. The strength of the feeling took you by surprise. But you’d managed to keep it together in front of both of them. Only when you were alone were you finally able to let it out. That night you’d locked yourself in your room, tears flowing in an unending stream. At some point, you were sitting down at your vanity, pencil flying across the page without you having to think it through.

 Dear Kyungsoo,

What am I even feeling right now? How am I feeling like this? You were always just my neighbor, the boy next door. Occasionally kind, helpful. I never even suspected that you liked Yeonhee or that she liked you back. I was completely left out, blind to what was happening in front of me. Mostly because I couldn’t see past myself. You were nothing like how I’d thought in our younger years. You are so much more. Amazing feels like too simple a word but that’s all I can conjure up. I’ve been so in awe that I couldn't completely understand what it was that I was feeling inside. But now… I feel like my heart has shattered. I had come to look forward to talking to you in between our yards. I never suspected you were coming out for Yeonhee. You chose her over me. I’m sure in your eyes, I was never even one of the selections. But why? Am I really that invisible?

You are a wonderful person. I’m not sure if there are enough adjectives in the world to describe how I see you. You’re like a portrait in the Louvre, unable for me to touch. You’re out of reach. And now that you’re with Yeonhee, you always will be. I know that you’ll treat her well. You’ll keep her hand warm with your own like I wish you could with mine. When she’s tired, she’ll rest her head on your shoulder. I hope you’re a comforting pillow. You seem like that kind of person. A comfort, a stronghold. I wish you could have been mine.

Love,

(y/n).

 They dated for two years before Yeonhee inexplicably ended the relationship. You knew she would have a very logical, analyzed reasoning for why she abruptly broke it off, though she never told you or anyone. However, you were surprised with how angry you were at her. How could she do that to someone like Kyungsoo, who had never treated her badly even for a moment? Your sympathy lied with him, but you had to show support for your friend. She wanted to move on, so you pretended to understand. She didn’t come around very often anymore in case of situations like tonight where she might accidentally run into or see him.

Up in your bedroom, you took a deep breath. Because it still hurt after all this time. You still longed to be the one he looked at, the one he wanted to see. Out of all your letters, his was the one that never worked. His was sealed up tight, but the feelings didn’t go away. They held on tight like a rock climber without a rope. You could distract yourself with other crushes, give in to fleeting feelings for others. And it would work for a little while. But in your weak moments, those feelings never failed to come back. Tonight was a reminder of that.

[hurting-fictional-people]

Cry for me

CW: restraints, vomit mention, electrocution, implied noncon, knife cut (?)

Before  |   After

“Do you know what day is today, precious?”

Kiara glared at Blake, willing all her hatred to show through her eyes since she wouldn’t dare to voice it. She knew if she did, it would only buy her more pain. 

They both knew the answer to the question. She had been asking him what day it was for the past… she didn’t know. The days started to blur together soon after she was kidnapped. And ever since they did, Kiara had been tormented by the helplessness of losing everything she ever had, even something as simple as knowing which day it was. Blake had taken so much from her already – her freedom, her house, her life. But it all only truly hit her when time was taken from her too.

Blake had watched her collapse to the floor and curl into herself as Kiara realized she was so completely in his mercy, she depended on him to know something as simple as the days. And he, always the bastard, rejoiced in her despair. Refused to tell her. 

If she had to, Kiara would guess she was with him for a month now. Maybe two. Or something in between.

Blake patiently waited for her to answer, never looking away from her blazing gaze. Kiara sighed and hissed through gritted teeth “No, Blake, I don’t.”

“Better yet. Do you know what day is tomorrow?”

Kiara seethed. Oh, how did she want to spit in his face and tell him to fuck off. How did she want to scream and punch him senseless. If the threat of being pinned down and tortured mercilessly wasn’t constantly hovering over her head, she would’ve seriously considered it.

“Come on, don’t be like this, I’m only teasing you.” Blake crooned, brushing a finger under her chin and lifting it slightly. “Tomorrow is your birthday, sunshine.”

With only one sentence, a few well-chosen words, he knocked out all the air from her lungs. Tears welled up in her eyes, but Kiara made sure to squeeze them shut before Blake could see them.

Kiara would be 25 years old when midnight came. She had planned to throw a big party to celebrate it. Had been talking about it since she turned 24. Now, she would spend it with the man who was breaking her piece by piece, probably lost in a daze of hurt and despair. What a birthday.

“Don’t make this face,” he pouted, “you’re turning 25, it’s a beautiful age.”

“How do you know my age?” she asked, turning her face to the side, hoping he would let go of her chin. Thankfully, it worked.

“I know everything about you,” he grinned. A chill ran down her spine, even though she already knew that. She would’ve probably told him whatever he wanted to know either way – when he decided to take something from her, there was no holding it in. “What do you think about a birthday gift?”

She peered suspiciously at him. “A gift is only a gift if there are no strings attached to it. You never give me anything without expecting something in return.”

“You wound me like that, Kiara” Blake breathed, placing a mocking hand over his heart. “Now, seriously, I mean it this time. You’ve been good to me and I think you deserve a treat. So, what do you want?”

“For you to let me go.” His smirk vanished instantly at the response, and something dark replaced it, making her heart skip a beat. She was quick to correct the mistake. “I want a book.”

Tilting his head to the side, Blake narrowed his eyes and unclenched his fists. “Which book?”

“Any book. You can choose.”

She only started breathing again when Blake sighed and smiled, the immediate danger leaving his eyes as she gave him a wobbly smile of her own. He muttered an all right then before taking a handcuff from the nightstand and closing it around Kiara’s wrists. She shuddered, but let herself go limp under him and tried to think about which book he’d choose as he pulled her into the already well-known world of pain and fear. 

-

The book was covered in ugly orange and blue wrapping paper. Blake sat across from her in the living room as she opened it, watching her intently. As soon as she set her eyes on the book, Kiara had to bite her lip to hold back the tears. 

Heartless, from Marissa Meyer. The same book her brother had given her the Christmas before, and she had never read.

“Do you like it?” Blake asked, drinking in each emotion that passed through her eyes. “You had a lot of fantasy at your place, and the girl at the bookstore recommended it. It’s an imagined backstory to the Queen of Hearts.”

She didn’t know what was worse, for him to actually know which books she’d like, or that she actually felt a hint of gratitude sparking in her chest. It was twisted and painful, but he had given her a piece of her brother, even if he didn’t know it. A piece of the life she used to have, the person she used to be. Kiara nodded and thanked him, sincerely for once.

“I have a job to do, so I’ll leave you to it,” he said, seeming vaguely disappointed by her lack of enthusiasm. Little did he how fast her heart was pounding, or how hard it was to draw breath through the tightness in her throat. 

-

Kiara missed a lot of things. Everything. But having a distraction, losing herself in a good story, was what she wished for the most after she’d accepted she wasn’t getting out of there anytime soon. Alone in the penthouse – aside from Blake’s employees, who never came too close to her –, she dived into the book until the story took her away from all the hurt, fear, and sadness. 

The hours ticked by, but she only stopped reading to go to the bathroom once before returning to the book. As it was, she would be happy to be lost in just about any story, well written or not, but that was one of the good ones.

Pages flew by until she came to the end with tears streaming down her cheeks. It had been good, but so, so sad. Kiara sniffed as she closed it, a familiar peace enveloping her. That wonderful feeling of finishing a great book.

It didn’t last long, though. As soon as she looked up, green eyes pierced into her soul with a seriousness that made her quiver. 

“You’re crying,” Blake stated. 

“It was a good book,” she said, slowly. “Really good, but also really sad.”

“You never cry because of me.” 

Kiara held the book to her heart as if it could protect her from the danger dancing inside of Blake’s eyes, around the edges of his words.

“You scream, and beg and comply, and yet you never once cried,” he said, taking a step closer. “But I leave you alone with a book for a day, and find you crying over a piece of paper.”

His voice was low, but there was something in the way he said it, the way his eyes swept over her, that had Kiara ready to go down on her knees and plead him for mercy.

“It suits you, the tears. It’s cute. But I want you to cry for me.”

Her stomach churned as Kiara brought her knees to her chest, uselessly hoping that if she made herself small enough, he might forget she was there. She knew it was an empty hope even before she did it. It always was, when he was staring at her like that, taking slow steps in her direction, just to watch the fear blossoming in her eyes.

He was right. He had done a lot to her, hurt her in more ways she could ever dream existed, more than she could remember by now, and yet she hadn’t cried once. Refused to. It was the last thing she had control over. The only thing.

“Cry for me, Kiara,” Blake ordered, crouching in front of her. “Cry for me and I won’t hurt you.”

The part of her that had learned to bend and obey shuddered, ready to do it. It wouldn’t be hard. She was always on the verge of tears nowadays. But even though part of her begged her to comply, Kiara gritted her teeth, raised her chin, and stared straight into his eyes.

“The fun way it is, then,” Blake crooned.

Before she could do as much as take a breath, he yanked her out of the couch, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her away, yelling and clawing at his back.

She knew it would only make things worse if she fought, but she also knew she would only cry if he did his worse anyway, so why not throw everything to shit? Her nails found skin under his shirt, and then blood. She was thrown on a table before any real damage could be done, though. Pity.

Kiara thrashed and cursed as Blake closed restraint after restraint around her until she could no longer move. Ankles, wrists, stomach, chest. She could only pant when he finished and towered over her defenseless figure.

“It really is a shame that you decided to behave like this on your birthday, of all days,” he sighed, holding up a knife where she could see it. Kiara’s entire body went rigid as its sharp point touched her temple. “This is for scratching me,” Blake whispered as he pressed the knife until it broke the skin in a shallow cut. And then dragged it down, all the way from her temple to her chin.

Kiara yelped, too stunned to even scream. It burned. Blood soaked her hair, slipped down her neck, warm on her already sweaty skin.

“I hate you,” she choked out, “you can say what you want to, but scaring me not to tell you how much I despise you doesn’t make it go away. I’ll always despise you. I’ll never be yours, no matter how many times you force me to repeat it.”

Blake snickered. 

“We’ll see about that, sunshine.”

She continued to spit each hateful, panicked thought her mind could conjure. In the end, she knew all those words would render her was more pain, but at the moment the anger was something to hold on to other than fear. It almost muffled the hurt, too, so she grabbed the rage desperately and used it to try and shield her heart.

Something was stuck to her arms, her legs, her collarbones, but she didn’t give herself time to fear or wonder and just kept jerking against the harsh restraints and shouting her hatred. 

Blake worked in silence, watching her resistance with a furrow in his brows.

“You are a fucking psycho, and you never–“ she grunted, cut off by a thick cloth being shoved into her mouth, making her gag. Kiara glared at Blake with wide, furious eyes, hoping he would read her contempt there. He only licked his lips, as if he could already taste her pain.

And then, in the blink of an eye, the entire world shattered around her and was replaced by pure agony. 

Electricity coursed through her body, making her muscles constrict, her breath hitch, and a high-pitched screech fill the room. She was beyond any form of rational thought or normal sensation. The pain swallowed her whole until Kiara was nothing more than anguish and despair. 

It stopped as suddenly as it started. In a moment she was enveloped in pain, and in the other she was trying and failing to curl into herself, begging muffled pleas. 

When the last bolts of pain started to subside and her muscles slowly tried to relax from the painfully constricted position they were in, Kiara found Blake staring at her, looking amused. “The pain suites you, precious. The blood does too. At least you look pretty for your birthday.”

A sob tore through her throat and she closed her eyes fiercely to stop the tears from falling. As soon as she closed them, a pain unbelievably bigger took her away from any rational thought once more. 

Pain was too small of a word to describe the unbearable shock that stole away anything she ever was, felt or thought, and left in her place a puddle of hurt.

It lasted forever. A life. Eternity.

When it ended, she felt bile in the back of her mouth, but couldn’t even vomit with the cloth pressed against her teeth. She sagged on the metal table, sleek with sweat, and choked on the gag and the dread. 

Her throat felt raw from screams she didn’t remember screaming and her entire body shook and ached. The electricity might have stopped, but the pain didn’t, not in the slightest.

A chuckle filled her ears, accompanied by a gentle hand caressing her cheek. “If I take the gag out, will you be rude to me again?”

She didn’t have the energy to do anything. Not to nod or spit or even open her eyes, really. So Kiara kept them closed and tried to breathe through her nose as Blake pulled the cloth out of her mouth.

“I’m so very pleased with you, Kiara” Blake crooned, slowly unbuckling each restraint. She just laid there on a puddle of her own blood, too drained to move or think or talk. “It’s over now, my precious. You can rest.”

He sounded utterly amused. It was only when he opened the last restraint that her heart stopped for a moment.

Blake was pleased. But she hadn’t…

With shaky fingers, Kiara reached toward her eyes. She felt the wetness there, knew what it meant, but didn’t believe it until her fingertips stood right in front of her eyes, gleaming with tears. 

“You didn’t even realize you cried, did you?” Blake murmured, running his fingers through her bloody hair. “Do you realize you’re crying right now?”

This time, when the sob came, there was nothing she could do to stop it. As well as the tears she suddenly felt as burning paths on her skin.

He had truly done it. He had taken everything from her. Every last thing.

Kiara sobbed as Blake picked her up and carried her to the room. She wept throughout the bath he gave her. As he tucked her in and shackled her hands to the bed, there was a steady stream of tears trailing down her cheek, even when the whimpers and sobs stopped. 

She thought the tears were stopping when sleep made her eyelids heavy. She would be dehydrated if it went on for much longer. 

But then, when Blake leaned in to kiss her cheek and murmured “happy birthday, sunshine,” the sobs started all over again. 

[wrenhyperfixates]

Party Favors

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Loki comes to the rescue when your nephews’ birthday party is on the brink of disaster. Warnings: some curse words and implied smut; fluff

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“No! Don’t run there. It’s slippery.”

“Hang on, the bathroom’s right inside.”

“There’s going to be cake later, and you don’t want to get a tummy ache.”

Gosh, kids were tiring. You’d promised your sister, Katie, that you’d help out at your nephews’ birthday party. It was a sticky summer afternoon, but the heat did nothing to slow down the thirty-something kids running around the backyard. Between neighbors, classmates, and camp friends, the birthday boys had quite the guest list. Your sister and brother-in-law were both chaperoning the party, along with some other parents, but you were still outnumbered. Even if you weren’t, kids in large groups seem to have a penchant for trouble. It sure didn’t help that they were all at the age where chaos seemed like average fun.

Spotting the twins, you decided to take a few photos for your sister, who was busy running around to make sure everything was running smoothly. “Hey, Timmy. Hey, Tommy. How’re my favorite nephews today?” you said after snapping a few shots.

“But Auntie (y/n),” Timmy started, “we’re your only nephews.”

“Yeah, and we’re eight now,” Tommy continued for his brother. “You can’t trick us anymore.”

“We’re big boys now,” they finished together.

“I guess you are,” you replied, laughing. “Not too big for the bouncy house, I hope.”

“Of course not, Auntie. Bye!” they shouted, running towards the inflatable castle.

You walked over to the boys’ father, Lucas, and helped him check all the Slip 'N Slides and water balloon supplies. Just when you thought you might get through the day without any disasters, your sister came running up to you and Lucas.

“The clown just cancelled. There was a huge traffic jam and he can’t make it in time,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper.

“That’s all right,” Lucas said. “I’ve been saving some grade-A dad jokes for a situation like this.”

Both you and Katie groaned, eliciting a hurt scoff from her husband. And then a genius idea hit you.  

“Wait a minute, guys. I literally work with superheroes.”

A few years ago, you’d scored a position at Stark Industries and, though you’d never worked in the field, often helped the team from the lab. You’d even played a large role in designing Tony’s latest suit.

“Could you really get one of them to come? I mean, aren’t they busy?” your sister asked.

Truth be told, you weren’t sure that they were free, but they definitely owed you a favor. You’d saved their butts more times than you could count. It was, at very least, worth a try. You found the quietest place you could, then called Tony. Then Thor. Then Steve. Then Nat. None of them picked up. In a desperate last attempt, you phoned the Tower hoping someone would pick up. F.R.I.D.A.Y. answered and confirmed the presence of one Avenger in the Tower. You immediately asked her to put them on, not bothering to check who it was.

“Hi. I have an urgent matter and need to call in a favor.”

“And since when do I owe you one?” a smooth baritone came from the other end of the line.

Shit, you thought, of all the people in the Tower it had to be him. You and Loki got along well enough, but you weren’t friends, per se. The two of you constantly kept up a witty banter that was often flirtatious. The others teased you about it, and you were sure they placed bets on which one of you would ask the other out first. That, of course, was stupid, as Loki obviously did not feel that way about you. And how you felt? Well, it was best not to dwell on it.

“Oh, hi Loki. Sorry, you weren’t who I was expecting. Where’s everyone else?”

“Out at the movies. They should be back in half an hour, if your urgent matter can wait that long.” You let out a frustrated groan, which prompted him to say, “Well, that’s certainly not how I imagined getting that sound out of you.”

You were thankful he wasn’t there to see you blush. You didn’t know if you could wait that long for the rest of the Avengers. That didn’t even include the time it would take for them to actually arrive. You were about to hang up and tell Katie she better try to find a replacement clown or magician when you got your second great idea that afternoon.

“Loki,” you said, “I’m sending you my location. Just come over as fast as you can. I’ll explain when you get here.”

Then you hung up before he could respond. You raced to the front of the house to wait but were nervous that he wouldn’t show. You didn’t have long to worry, though, because he suddenly materialized, making you jump a little. Sometimes you forgot that he could teleport.

“Your savior is here,” he declared, striking a dramatic pose.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. My hero,” you said before explaining the situation to him.

“Well, I’m afraid I’m not very popular with the masses, (y/n). I think you’d be better off waiting for one of the others.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he tried to hide the sadness behind those words. Before he could leave, you protested, “Kids may love superheroes, but you know what they love even more? Magicians!”

He raised a skeptical eyebrow at that. “I’m not sure how you came to that conclusion. Besides, I don’t much appreciate being reduced to a mere magician.” He stopped for a second to tap his chin as if deep in thought, before continuing, “But, I suppose if you ask nicely, I might consider it.”

You made your best puppy dog eyes and stuck out your lower lip while giving him a pouty please. He considered you for a moment before responding.

“Very well,” he said. “I will save you this time. Just remember that you owe me. In fact, I’ve already got just the thing in mind.”

The devilish grin he gave you with that last part caused an involuntary shiver to run down your spine. He noticed but decided not to push his luck. Besides, he genuinely found it cute. In fact, he found everything about you cute. However, he refused to acknowledge the way his heart beat faster when you took his hand to lead him into the house. As you were walking, he conjured a classic magician outfit for himself. Though, he opted to have green accents instead of the traditional red. When you turned back around to face him, you couldn’t stop the girlish giggle that escaped your lips.

“Like what you see, darling?” he asked, striking a pose.

“Oh, fuck off.”

Despite your harsh response, you were blushing. As much as you were loath to admit it, he was rather dashing in the suit and top hat. You felt a sudden rush of nervousness as you introduced him to Katie and Lucas. You could see on their faces that they were trying to figure out where they knew Loki from. The second they connected the dots, their faces fell, but the reassuring smile you gave them must have worked since they started gathering the kids for the show. In all honesty, you hadn’t thought about their reaction to his being there. Or the other parents’ reaction, for that matter. It was hard to remember that the world was still clinging to the madman he’d been at the battle of New York when you knew he was just a witty prankster. Actually, he did a lot of good for the world. To you, he was just Loki.

You offered him a grateful smile as he stepped up in front of the kids and introduced himself as Loki the Magnificent. For as reluctant as he was in agreeing to this, he was putting on quite a show for them. It was a good thing, too, considering how brutally honest kids could be. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding when it became apparent how enraptured all the children were with his act. He even brought Timmy and Tommy onstage to assist him with a few tricks. You made sure to take tons of pictures, partly for your sister, but mainly to tease Loki with later.

Once he finished his last trick, the kids were seated at various tables and the cake was brought out. You wanted to run up to Loki and thank him, but you had to help distribute the cake. After double checking that all the kids got a slice, you brought a piece to Loki.

“Hey, you were great up there. And I guess you really saved my ass,” you said, mumbling the last part.

“It was my pleasure. Believe it or not, I had fun.”

He raised a bit of cake on his fork in a sort of salute to you. You fully expected him to leave once he finished eating, but, to your surprise, he stayed even after all the guests had gone. You two were cleaning up the junk in the backyard when you found yourself thanking him again.

“Really,” you said, “I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

“Well mortal, let this be a lesson on how superior I am and-”

His sentence was cut short by you dumping a bucket of water down his back. You were laughing so hard that you didn’t notice him get one of his own to return the favor. You shrieked in delight as he started hurling leftover water balloons at you. You ran away from him, but his aim was impeccable. Pretty soon, you were drenched. Though you were able to seize some ammunition of your own, you were no match for the god.

“Okay, okay,” you shouted to him, bent over, trying to catch your breath. “Truce.”

“No way,” he replied, running up behind you and grabbing you by the waist. Lifting you into the air and spinning, he said, “I’m claiming this as a victory!”

Your laughter was making such a racket that Katie came to see what was going on. Through giggles, you apologized to her, but she just waved you off. Seeing as you and Loki were both sopping wet, she thanked you for all your help and sent you home to dry off. You wondered why she didn’t let you stay there to do so, but the smirk on her face answered that. Rolling your eyes at her, you said goodbye and then shouted farewells to Lucas and your nephews, who were inside.

You and Loki made your way to your car in a peaceful silence. You offered him a ride, but he insisted on teleporting you home instead. Only problem was, he brought you straight to his bedroom, not your home. You gave him a quizzical look that demanded he explain himself.

“Don’t forget, little one. You owe me a favor.”

“Oh yeah? Bring it on.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After their movie ended, the Avengers tried to return your calls. You never did pick up. They didn’t have to wonder why for long, though. The sounds coming from a certain bedroom answered that question perfectly.

[wallwriterstuff]

Teeth || Demetri Volturi x Reader ||

A request from @volturidoll13 that is continued from this headcanon right here ——-> Demetri Reacting to a Stimming Reader <——-. I hope I’ve done you justice once more with this one chickadee :D </b>

Part 2: This fic

Part 3: Control (fic)

Warnings: TW for anxiety. Readers stimming will stem from anxiety, if you are having a rough time with yours right now be careful reading this one, and please know you’re not alone! I guess maybe a warning for biting to? There’s some biting going on.

Words: 2620

Summary: It’s been a little over two months since Demetri discovered your stimming. He’s remained vigilant ever since, keeping your anxiety at bay with a whole host of tips and tricks he’s learned over the course of your time together. The one thing he cannot stop is the march of time, and yours is running out fast…

You weren’t sure what had made you so nervous back then, why Demetri finding about your autism was such a big deal, why you were so afraid your stimming would be an issue between you both, that your anxiety and it’s side effects would somehow ruin his perception of you. In reality, telling Demetri the whole truth had been the best thing you had ever done. His sensitivity was astounding to you, because he really was diligent in checking in with you and keeping things as calm as possible in your now shared room – your baths had become a now weekly occurrence. He never treated you like you were made of porcelain either despite all his little interventions, no, he whole-heartedly encouraged your every attempt to explore and integrate yourself into the Volturi with your new found confidence, but when you needed the support he was always prepared.

Your newfound confidence came with a price.

After just a week of venturing out of your shared room you had been called to the throne room, a terrifying moment in itself given you had met them only once before to explain why you hadn’t been bleeding out with the rest of your tour group on the floor, and Aro had taken your hand with a sickly smile before joyfully exclaiming something in Italian you had had no idea how to go about translating. That was two months ago, and now you had only a single month left to live before you joined them in their immortality, perpetually frozen as you were, never moving forward, never evolving. The concept was terrifying given the stories you’d heard of newborns. You didn’t want to hurt people or be that volatile little newborn who became violent on a whim. You didn’t want to feel the inferno in your throat begging you to commit unspeakable acts of cruelty against a race you were currently still apart of.

A month left of mortality.

A month left before you became someone entirely new.

Felix’s sudden grunt snapped you out of that particular reverie, and you blinked at the bright sunlight invading your eyes despite the shade you had situated yourself in under a twisted old red maple, planted in Didyme’s honour oh so long ago and still going strong thanks to Aro’s tender loving care. They had chosen to sit beneath the branches simply because it made their skin sparkle less, which was far easier on your eyes and far less distracting since you had a tendency to try and rub off Demetri’s sparkles, like they were glitter on his skin you could just remove. Jane was smiling at your giant friend, whose teeth were clenched tight before he suddenly relaxed and shot her a glare.

“Now now children play nicely.” Demetri chided from beside you. He’d been sat a while, smoothly redirecting conversation from you when he saw your attention falter. You had been zoning in and out a lot the past few days, your mind clearly elsewhere. He’d kept half an eye on you as the twins debated a book they’d been reading the past week, Felix teasing them as was his usual manner until Jane caved to the temptation to cripple him with her trademarked glare. You clearly were not okay, but you hadn’t come to him to say as such just yet, so he’d not pressured you into talking. Perhaps after this afternoon he should? You usually jumped at any chance you got to spend time with them all, enjoying the social interaction after the long days you spent either studying Italian or with them absent performing duties you would soon help them undertake.

“What do you think Y/N? You said you’d read The Hunger Games before, what do you think of the idea that the death of Primrose is symbolic of the death of the last of Katniss’s innocence?” Alec questioned. The boy was equally as perceptive as Demetri, having found himself insatiably curious since the day Demetri had quietly spoken with them about it to ensure they didn’t harass you, and consequently had gone on to read everything he could get his hands on about your condition. It was painfully obvious to all of them your head wasn’t in the conversation but none of them brought it up, instead finding ways to lead you seamlessly back into the group when you wandered off. Your brows furrowed as you tried to think over Alec’s question, but your mind was pulled in too many directions at once. You were so focused on the dark thoughts swirling around your future immortality that your mind struggled to conjure the image of the book cover, never mind its contents.

“Erm…I don’t really…she lost it way before that.” You stumbled your way through the answer and it was audible to everyone there the way your teeth clanked together when your jaw clenched. You did your best not to flinch as Demetri cast you a concerned glance. You’d been doing that a lot, your teeth gnashing and grinding as you clenched your jaw over and over. It was a tic he had seen before, though not quite as frequently as this, and it set alarm bells ringing in his head as a thousand articles and memories hit him full force. Alec hummed, not looking entirely like he agreed with you while Jane grinned, triumph in her eyes.

“Ha! See brother, I told you!” she didn’t seemingly notice the way you flinched, teeth gnashing audibly once more at her exclamation. Alec’s face was immediately taken over by a scowl, and the pair were bickering once more while Felix watched on with obvious amusement. Demetri had given you his sole attention instead, tuning out their argument to instead take notice of the way the muscles in your jaw moved, your gaze distant and entirely unfocused as you lost yourself to your thoughts again. He didn’t actually think you were aware of the way your hand moved until he gently snatched it mid-air. You blinked, staring uncomprehendingly at the frozen fingers clasped around your wrist, centimetres from your open mouth that you quickly snapped closed. Demetri made no comment after that, sliding his hand up to intertwine your fingers together and squeeze your palm lightly.

You squeezed back with a weak smile, mentally already berating yourself for your behaviour. You hadn’t even noticed you were about to bite yourself but now you had you could feel the way your jaw ached, the entire lower part of your jaw tense from the amount your stimming had overworked it that afternoon. Demetri soothingly ran his thumb in circles over your knuckles but even his cool touch wasn’t enough to drag you from your misery today. You had less than a month to live and there was so much you wouldn’t get to do after that. You had always wanted to travel to try some of your favourite foods in their home contexts – you could only imagine how good authentic Chinese food would taste. You wanted to sleep in a five-star hotel just to see what a memory foam mattress might do to improve your sleep.

It was all trivial stuff (you were painfully aware since Caius had told you so when you’d brought it up) but they were simple things for your bucket list, you dared not even consider the big dreams you had because they would be impossible once you were-

“Ah ah ah.” Demetri caught your hand again. He still held one in his grip but the other had whipped up to make it’s way into your mouth. You completely disregarded his warning, a burning need inside of you driving your head forward in an effort to clamp your teeth around your finger, sure in the knowledge it would bring some relief if you could manage it. Demetri didn’t let you, and your head quickly turned for his hand instead. He didn’t comment when your teeth almost broke trying to break through his skin. You immediately recoiled, both horrified and mortified at what you had done, but despite the fact you wouldn’t meet his eyes, Demetri pulled you close to his chest and kissed the top of your head.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“What have I told you about apologising to me about this?” he tutted, lifting your chin with one of his index fingers. He quickly had to let go when your hand flashed up to your mouth again, desperate to chew down on something.

“To stop apologising. Sor-er…I…” you cringed, the apology ready to fall from your lips but your fear of disappointing him latching it’s claws into you and making you bite down on your tongue instead.

“You never need to apologise to me for this my love, I love every part of you, even the parts of you you struggle to love yourself.” Demetri assured you quietly. Your teeth began to grind once more because what if he didn’t see you that same way after your change? What if your crimson eyes and still heart were abhorrent to him since he revered your human-self so much?

“Can we go?” you mumbled, your head spinning with all the worrisome thoughts tumbling about it. Demetri searched your face briefly as he nodded, very well aware that this wasn’t something he could encourage you to keep fighting and you needed to tap out now and recover.

“Of course. Excuse us you three.” He glanced to them briefly, knowing they’d have heard your quiet conversation anyway so to lie would be pointless. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at them, too embarrassed by your stimming today to meet their eyes. You’d bitten your vampire mate in front of them, after all.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, keeping your head down as you walked along beside him. Demetri hadn’t let go of one of your hands, squeezing gently every now and then to try and encourage you to channel your anxiety into your hand instead of your mouth. Perhaps he ought to buy you a stressball? You’d liked the last one, though it had disappeared somewhere around the castle and sadly, his gift only worked on people and not tracking down inanimate objects.  

“Don’t thank me yet, might I give you some advice?” he enquired. You looked up at him, your expression inviting him warily to speak, though you weren’t sure what he could add since this was your lived experience, and one he had only read about. “As you go to bite down open your mouth a fraction wider, it will allow you to clamp your teeth into a wider surface area and hold your prey stiller.” He advised, half a smirk dancing on his lips. He was failing abysmally at trying to hide it.

“I – excuse me?” you were somewhat astonished he’d given you advice on how to bite yourself better. What happened to your caring mate? The one who did his best to help you calm your anxiety. The one who held your hand on nights it felt like you couldn’t breathe?

“I thought it would be sound advice,” he said, giving up on his efforts now to fight back his smirk, “As my little vampire in training, you need to know how to bite down properly. If I had been your prey just now I would have easily escaped, and you would be left hungry.” You stopped stock still, eyes bugging a bit in your head as your brain just…stopped working.

“What…did you just call me?” you asked. Demetri had walked on ahead as if nothing was wrong, but he paused to turn back towards you now with a shit-eating grin on his face, crimson eyes sparkling.

“My little vampire in training. Unless of course, you would prefer puppy? They chew on things to, no?” he tilted his head at you while your jaw dropped. Just for a brief moment there was clarity in your head, the sheer absurdity of his comment punching through all your anxious thoughts. You felt you should be insulted, was it an insult? Coming from someone other than Demetri maybe it would be but this was the man who listened to every little thought in your head, wiped away every tear and held you while you cried. No, Demetri could never do you harm, whether it was with words or fists he was bound to protect you always, he was incapable of insulting you meaningfully.

“Your little – Demetri!” you scolded. God did your jaw ache. He chuckled.

“Alright alright forgive me…though can I say, I feared your bite far more than Felix’s.” he held out his hand to you and you automatically sidled up to slip your palm against his, Demetri turning you both back in the direction of your shared room before you began to walk once more.

“Felix’s has bitten you?” you asked, your curiosity sparked.

“Oh yes. You see, when I first joined the Guard Felix was assigned to my combat training. He won every round. I, however, am a quick learner, and once I began to pick up his teachings I won my first spar against him quite easily…and the one after that, and the one after that…he gets bitey when he loses.” He revealed. You bit your lip, fighting back a smile as you imagine the hulking man tossed onto his back by your own, lithe tracker. It was a funny enough sight in itself, but adding the image of him lunging with teeth barred to gnaw on your mate was even funnier. It should have been frightening but you knew the gentle giant too well to think he would ever attack his comrades with any malicious intent.

“Alec best watch his back then, he’s getting close to Felix’s high score on Crash Bandicoot.” You mused. Demetri snorted briefly.

“Yet another fun story…Alec once locked himself in his room for three whole days when Jane picked up one of his games and completed a level he’d been stuck on for weeks on her first try.” He told you. Your smile grew a little wider, stretching across your face as you imagined the calmer witch twin throwing said hissy fit. Demetri continued his stories long after you entered your room, laying on his side with you opposite him as he regaled you with one story after another. Aro had once dropped a book on his foot after a late night of studying, looked around to ensure nobody had seen, and stuffed it back on the shelf so fast he had placed it back upside down. Jane had a beautiful singing voice but had been startled so badly by Felix interrupting her once she’d slipped right up the scale on the last word and tortured poor Felix for a whole hour straight for ruining her song.

Story after story you listened, enraptured by his smooth baritone while he played with your hair, soothing your turbulent mind as you focused on his words and his words alone. You might wake up tomorrow and find you were once more trapped in the cycle of anxiety that you were hard-pressed to escape one it got you in it’s clutches, or maybe this blessed moment of relief would last and tomorrow you would be free once more for a little bit longer until the next moment something you felt was too big too manage came along. For today, Demetri had lulled you to sleep against his side, your breathing slow and even for the first time that day. Whatever you had to face next, whatever challenges might come your way, you knew on your worst days Demetri would always be with you to help you overcome them, armed with all the latest mummyblog advice for you to rebuke.

[samwritesforyou]

Booked (pt.2)

Summary: you decided to go grocery shopping since the amount of people in your house significantly grew and diego keeps you company. after that crazy hargreeves family prompts you for a beach trip?

Warnings: gender-neutral reader

Wordcount: 2.1k

A/N: this fic is making me feel things, i cant quite place it. like... whenever i write it i feel weirdly at home?? idk :D feel free to share your thoughts either in tags or comments! its Very appreciated and motivating, actually! have a lovely day! <3

part one can be found here!

“Okay but if we kill them, nobody will have any questions, will they? We just bought a house and they moved somewhere far away!” was the first thing you heard, as you have awakened from your “nap”, deciding to keep your eyes shut just for a moment longer, not to lose it again.

“Five!” seems like everyone else said that in unison, grunting and groaning.

Okay, they don’t want to kill you. That’s great. You think it’s safe to open your eyes now.

You were laying on the king-sized bed upstairs, all siblings huddled up around you, watching intensely.

All the chatter between them came to a stop when they noticed that you woke up.

“So.. you’re like all superheroes or something?” you said tiredly, despite feeling rested.

Your mind still felt fuzzy from that info, hearing about such thing only from the tv series or sci-fi genres.

“Guess so,” Luther piped up, shrugging his massive shoulders and offering you a small smile.

Your eyes slowly drifted towards the kid standing by the frame of the bed, wearing a serious expression.

He sighed and frowned at you.

“To be clear, I’m not a kid and I’m actually older than all of you here. I’m a time traveller and I witnessed more in my life than any of you,” his passive-aggressiveness was directed at you, but by the choice of words it felt like he was talking to everyone who was present in the room, “There’s going to be an apocalypse by the end of the summer and our job is to stop it. We failed once, but we won’t fail twice. We rented this house, thinking it would be a good place where we can practise our powers without anyone interfering with us, so please,” his face turned into an exaggerated, wide smile, “don’t get in our way nor mention it to anybody. Thank you,” and as he finished his angry monologue, the blue colour filled the space around him as he disappeared in the thin air, right in front of your eyes.

Hm. Okay?

Only two seconds passed after that, when another sibling started talking to you.

“And I can talk with the dead!” he said happily, spreading his hands in the air like so monk preaching.

“We have a dead brother who’s named Ben and one day I will definitely let you two meet once I learn how to properly conjure him,” he concluded, very pleased with himself.

“Hi, Ben,” you just said with a warm smile on your face, somewhere into the air next to Klaus.

He literally cooed at your action, coming over to you and giving you a quick hug with a pat on the back.

“Okay, maybe we can reveal all our powers later, but let’s leave (y/n) to rest a bit, alright?” Allison proposed, rushing everyone out of the room and then just sparing you a wave and an apologetic smile, closing the doors and leaving you alone.

Maybe you can get used to all this madness. To this family.

You really rested after that.

A room had a roof-window, so laying on that bed allowed you to look up at the sky and lazy, white clouds that every so often rolled along with the blue background.

Soon enough you heard muffled chatter downstairs, this old house being absolutely the worst in being soundproof.

It all reminded you of simpler times, actually, no matter the crazy circumstances.

But enough was enough, and closer to the middle of the day you managed to get out of the bed and descend to the first floor by the wooden stairs, looking around.

Suddenly it seemed quiet.

You shrugged at that and just made your way towards the door, energetically jumping down the few stairs from the veranda and felt your feet hit the hard tartan surface.

Since it was six (plus one spiritually) more people than you were used to having in your home, you decided it was only logical for you to go and buy more food into the local store.

You almost reached the gate to go outside of your property as you heard some fast steps behind you, catching up to you.

When you turned around, you saw a man with longer hair and almost expression on his face.

“Uh... hey, you’re going somewhere?” he asked, brushing the back of his neck.

“To the market, why?” you asked, tilting your head sideways at him.

“Well.. don’t laugh, but I wanted to jog a little, but got concerned that I might get lost..” the end of his sentence was almost inaudible already as he lowered his voice, “so.. mind keeping me company?”

That kind of surprised you and as you slowly realised the meaning of the said words that came out of his mouth you bit the inside of your right cheek *hard*, just not to laugh.

What a silly guy. Getting lost in this hole?

But sure, why not keep him company.

“Be sure to catch up with me though,” you teased as you basically broke into the run, opening the gate and hopping straight onto your bike and starting pedalling really hard to get as far away from him, finally bursting out laughing at the significant distance.

“What?!” was the only thing you heard from him and then you felt the breeze from the hot summer air caressing your cheeks as you were passing your neighbours in the well-known road.

“You seem happier than usual today, darling!” some granny said to you from her garden and you just waved in reply with a huge grin plastered on your face.

After spending last years of your youth more or less alone, you couldn’t even phantom the thought of people your age living with you for the eternity of one summer.

You could never complain about a life you had here, it was all you ever wanted, but the connection with the people of the similar age to you was really lacking sometimes.

And the absolute joy that was washing over you right now was the witness.

You slowed your pace after some time, pretty soon being followed by jogging Diego, beads of sweat rolling down his muscular hands.

Your gaze lingered for a second longer than necessary and you quickly tore it away from him, a slight blush creeping on your cheeks as you now looked straight ahead of you at the road.

“I’m not the best runner, but also not the worst, hun,” he said between the breaths as you continued your ride/walk and you just smiled.

“Pretty decent, I’d say,” you finally stopped at the market’s “parking lot” where there were two spaces for cars and at least a dozen of handles for bikes.

You put yours into one of them, not even bothering to lock it. Everyone knows each other here and everyone knows you.

A young person in the village mostly consisted of people in retirement.

“Alright, what do we have here,” said Diego as he followed you into the store that reminded him of something out of the 70s, really old school design and brands that he never heard of before.

“Everything is mostly homemade here,” you answered, making your way towards the fridge with cold drinks, opening it and throwing him a cola can, “except these bad boys.”

“Hell yeah,” he smirked and then looked around, but his gaze kind of kept wandering back at you, while you were too busy picking the right type and amount of groceries.

Why would you live here all by your lonesome?

“So..” you finally heard him say, as you checked out and we’re both putting the groceries into the deep basket on your bike, “you seem pretty chill with us being.. abnormal.”

You briefly looked up at him when your fingers accidentally touched between the cans of soda and glasses of milk and then your hand moved the other way, eyes too.

“Well.. who’s to say what’s normal and what’s not in this world, honestly?” you jumped on your seat when you were done with loading and started your ride back.

“I know,” he agreed, jogging way less intensely now as your pace appeared much slower, “but seven siblings all having some weird shit powers is... kind of crazy, don’t you think?”

That made you nod, “Yes, of course. But still, I’m not too baffled about this. What are the odds that a village person like me would even get into a situation like this?” you asked rhetorically, gaze fixed on the rocky-sandy road ahead, “You should accept life as it is! Confusion and denial are a waste of time,” you concluded and extended your left hand as you were driving past an apple tree and managed to rip two fruits at the same time, offering one to Diego - all while still riding a bike.

“I have my superpowers too,” you laughed a little and winked at him, making him flustered as he tried to hide it by biting into his apple.

.

.

“What do we have here?” Klaus welcomed both of you at the entrance to the summer house, topless and in a skirt.

“We just bought some groceries since we’re capable of eating the whole fridge out in a day,” Diego deadpanned as he - despite your protests - unloaded your bike storage and went into the house to put the bags there, his arms showing extra muscle that’s normally hidden when his body is relaxed.

Your stare lingered for longer than necessary and Klaus *definitely* picked upon that.

“Darling, if you want to get Diego, be a bit more straightforward with him. He’s a dum-dum,” with the last word he knocked on his own head with a finger and rolled his eyes, giggling playfully afterwards and smacking you on the shoulder.

You defensively did the same, blushing and looking anywhere but at Diego nor Klaus.

Hmmmm, such interesting trees you’re having at your own garden all of the sudden.

“But hey, we’ve all decided that before we start training for the inevitable doom of us all, we would take a break for at least a few days and just go to the beach. When we were coming up we noticed the sea behind all the forests, like.. four kilometres from here?” he looked at you with question, “Have you ever been to the beaches there? Could you guide us?”

You gave it thought only for a brief second and then nodded with a confident smile.

“Sure! I haven’t been there in a year or two but the beaches are still the same, I bet,” you answered and put your hands on hips in a cool posture.

“Thank god!” he impulsively hugged you and let go that instant, “otherwise Five said he wouldn’t let you go with us,” he pouted and then sighed, making his way towards their rusty turquoise-ish car.

You followed him, his words piquing your interest.

“Why does he hate me so much? And why is his name Five?” you narrowed your eyes, plopping yourself on the front seat and sat sideways so you could look at Klaus while talking to him.

“Well, darling...” he started, animatedly throwing his arms in the air, “Five was always a strict man, especially after he came from the future, where he spent like billion years and now he’s 50 year old and always shoves this fact into our young baby faces,” he clearly complained and with annoyed expression continued, “and he’s Five because my name is “officially” Four, but Five was the only one of us who disappeared from the house before our dad even bothered to give us names instead of numbers,” he finished but then remembered and continued, “Actually, it was our AI robotic mom Grace who gave us names,” now he was finished, from somewhere materialising a bottle in his hand and taking a sip from it.

“Anyways, beach trip, babeyyyy!”

“Huh..” you just blinked a few times at him as you heard a hoard of different voices going your way.

You wanted to get out of the car to let them sit however they wanted - you were the odd one out after all - but then they all hoarded in there so quickly that you couldn’t even react, being left in the front seat.

Driver’s seat next to you was empty for now.

As you looked back, Klaus was sitting right behind you, next to him Vanya and on the other side Diego, looking out the window.

Behind them was supposed to be a storage area but they apparently turned it into some diy seats as well, Luther and Allison sitting there, not minding the small space.

Soon the blue sort-of-teleport appeared next to you at the driver’s place and Five briefly threw his gaze at you, swiftly starting the car.

The whole inside of the vehicle roared and you were on your way towards the beach, with you as a main gps they had.

Lovely taglist: @radcloudenthusiast @spacenerdpascal @white-wolf-buckaroo @a-girl-who-loves-disney  @undead--ghost​

NEXT PART→

[itachi-with-a-chicken]

Come be my teacher - a vhope fic pt. 1

I can't believe I'm doing this

So

Vope/vhope parent/teacher au

Jk is Hobi's baby but for real

Taetae is his teacher

Jiminie is JK friend and Namjoon little bro i don't even know if it's relevant but technically this is a side namjin

As. They are there. Maybe I'll talk about them. Maybe I'll never mention them anymore

Anyway, DISCLAIMER: I DON'T KNOW SHIT. This is not accurate, doesn't want to be accurate and mostly is only for my own enjoyment

Everything I'll write is just garbage and i love BTS all of them yes all of them

And I'll show my love by laughing at them as any mature piece of shit would do

But anyway

Jungkook has this teacher and he loves him the most

Has a father, and he also loves him the most

Jungkook believes that good people should be together

And he also has eyes. He's a seven years old, smarter than any of his peers and with a talent for discovering everything that could give his beloved father an headache

Hoseok is a 30-something editor of a local publishing company

Stable work, stable house, stable life, everything for his own beloved child, so that he'll never feel anything missing

Kim Taehyung loves kids and loves teaching them how to read, write and understand the world around them

He has friends, he has hobbies, he has his own world

And he may or may not have a crush, but that's a issue that he'll not dwell into

As he'll not dwell in the way his eyes linger every time he's waiting for the children to go out and being picked up from their parents, looking for a specific pair of eyes that never fail to acknowledge him and give a nod

He should not, it's unethical, and yet he can't help being mesmerized by the beautiful man

So it's already a precarious and difficult task he has on heart when Jung Jungkook decides to make it worst asking "so, do you like my dada?"

Taehyung felt every hunch of life leave him, leaving behind an empty cold shell of a man

"w-what"

"you like him, he's a cute man, right? You told us that some people like women and some like men and some like both, but honestly i really didn't unde-under-under---- get it. I mean how can anyone know if they like every men and every women, wouldn't be easier to just like one person at the time?"

The waterfall of words nearly overwhelms Tae, but he gets back at it quite fast

"you're right, Jungkook" he says, and smiles, hoping that the bells will save him

Almost like their role were reversed and he went back to ten years ago and he didn't study for the day

"So, you like my father, right? Hoseok, he's the brown hair nicely dressed man that comes to get me every day"

"I know your father" he manages to say " and he's a very distinguished man" he hopes it's enough to distract him

"what does it mean distinguished?"

Mission accomplished.

Or so he thinks

"DADA DADA HE SAID YOU'RE DISTILLATED"

The high pitch was higher than any of the voices it the little yard

Tae is super good at run inside the school pretending he has many important serious things ™ to do

He'll not be able to meet the man eyes for a while

Speaking of the man himself, Jung Hoseok

While he finds weird the abrupt departure of the teacher, who usually have the decency to be sure that all the kids went to the right parent and similia

Didn't think much of it. How could he, when the little hurricane he's rising literally threw himself at him yelling something

"wh-who-what? Slow down kookie"

"my teacher, Mr Taehyung-ssi" the kid was already buckled up in the back of the car

"who said what, brat" asks the voice in the front. Min Yoongi, Hoseok best friend and Jungkook other father figure.

Maybe granpa figure

"my teacher" Jungkook is tired of repeating himself. "He said dada is really distilled"

The words met a wall of silence. Yoongi fought back a laughter, while Hoseok waited until it was safe to stop before asking why, on earth, his teacher would say that about him

"because I asked him if he liked you" the "DUH" was implicit.

Of course.

I mean. Of course. Yes. Make sense. Hoseok is not at all shaken by the fact that the day after he was going to get to work later and apologize for whatever is going on in his child mind

Of course a child wouldn't know why all of that was totally inappropriate

Of course a child wouldn't know what "all of that" even is

But now Yoongi was laughing loudly and Jungkook as well because he was after all a precious child and Hoseok decided it was Yoongi fault

He drives Jungkook home to his babysitter, as per usual, and then back to the office, as per usual

(He ought to remember to leave Namjoon a bonus by the end of the month. It was December, after all)

No words about the weird teacher situation were spoken until Yoongi didn't decide to bring it up

"is the one always checking you up when you pick up the spawn of satan?"

Hoseok stared at him. His expression was enough to make Yoongi retreat. "Okay, not the spawn of Satan. The babiest of the babies that ever babied. But it's him right"

And boi it was him and okay, okay, Hoseok might have noticed that he's not exactly hideous

And being Jungkookie teacher he of course managed to speak with him a couple of time

And okay he knows he's, like, probably a great person based on how his child is being raised

But still. Kid's teacher. Nothing more.

"OH IS SO HIM" Yoongi shouted clapping his hands and calling the elevator

Right, work

They were there he precisely took Yoongi out of his cave to meet with him at the office so they could finish the book once and for all

"you won't avoid the filing work of your own book by distracting me" hoseok mutters, and Yoongi hisses.

"Hoseok. My friend. Soul of my mate. I would never deceive you on a such important matter as the word by word checking we need to do today but"

They stood outside the office, and an hunch Hoseok can explain only as parent instinct told him to wait

"if you were finally screwing someone you oughta tell me"

Exactly

Hoseok face went red and then white. His lips faced downward and the grip on the handle intensified

"I am not. Screwing. My kid's teacher"

He thought his voice was at a normal level but a few concerned looks on the people around then suggested him that it may not be exactly the truthful truth

"DUH! That is exactly the problem"

So, life choose violence that day on Hoseok.

Replies are overrated anyway. He just march inside and sit at his desk and no more mention of Kim Taehyung will be made for the rest of the day

.............................. Ok no mention but his brain cannot be faulted if sometimes conjured up the image of the man. The glasses, the soft sweater, the curly dark hair.

It's not like he didn't struck up to Hoseok in general, and in a different situation he would handled things differently maybe

But reality is reality because is real and is it

So the next morning he accompanied Jungkook at school and the boy even had the audacity to smirk at him when he asked for a word with the teacher

The man looks positively surprised, but when he reaches him he speaks normally

"so, when Jungkook told me I look distilled he meant.."

"Distinguished. Yes. Exactly. I just told him his father looks distinguished"

"well, thank you" oh my Hoseok is smiling and it's like looking at the sun directly

"I-I'm sorry if it overstepped.. something. We just went through the different kinds of relationship and I guess kids are.. excitable

"oh don't worry, it was just funny. I know how Jungkook doesn't really know the difference between spontaneous and obnoxious, and I'm quite sure if anyone is to blame here is Yoongi hyung"

Now, Taehyung is smart enough and aware enough to know he was probably talking about Min Yoongi, the novelist

Also he has seen them often out of school

And Jungkook talked about him like a second father or uncle

So even if he had a little squick of surprise, he wasn't surprised at all

It was only natural that someone as beautiful as Jung Hoseok would have someone by his side talented as Min Yoongi. He read his books. He knows it.

He smiles politely, and so does Hoseok, before departing

And if Hoseok lingered a bit when Tae was walking back to the class

No one would never know

Hope you liked it! Hope I'll come soon with the second part! Byee